“It’s worse luck for the groom to be an hour late for his own wedding.” Meg pulled free from her mother’s grasp and ripped open the door. “Where have you been? You agreed to get married on Lockwood time and—” Suddenly aware that something was terribly wrong, she bit back the rest of her sentence.

Tommy looked as sober as an owl in a barn. Even more worrisome was his attire—old canvas trousers held up by blue suspenders. He appeared haggard, as if he hadn’t slept, and his unruly red hair stood on end like a rooster’s comb.

“We have to talk.” He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out of the room and down the hall.

She held back. “Thomas James Farrell, stop right now. You hear me? I said stop!”

But he didn’t stop, not until they reached the cemetery behind the church. It took a moment for Meg’s eyes to adjust to the bright autumn sun.

Tall, granite grave markers stood at attention like pieces on a chessboard waiting for someone to make the first move.

She snatched her hand from his. “What do you think you’re doing? What’s going on?”

Tommy grimaced. “Meg, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I can’t marry you.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. This can’t be happening. “What are you saying?”

“I’m sayin’ I can’t be the husband you want. I can’t spend the rest of my life workin’ on watches in my father’s shop. All those hairsprings and gears and stems and—”

“This is how you give me the news?” She gave him an angry shove. “Tommy Farrell, I’ve known you nearly all my life, and you’ve caused me plenty of grief along the way, but this takes the cake!”

“I’m sorry.” He slapped his hand to his forehead. “I’m goin’ about this all wrong. It’s not that I don’t want to marry you. I just can’t.”

“And you waited for our wedding day to tell me this?”

“I feel bad, I do.”

“You feel bad? How do you suppose our guests feel after being kept waiting all this time? And what about the town? Our fathers promised to end their feud—”

“I know, I know.” He grimaced. “Right now, I’m only thinkin’ of you.”

“By humiliating me in front of the entire world?” She stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. For years, she’d made excuses for his lackadaisical ways and had even defended him to his own father. She’d forgiven him for forgetting her birthday—not once but twice! But this…this was by far the worst thing he’d ever done.

“I’d make you miserable,” he continued, his Texas twang even more pronounced than usual. “I’m not ready to settle down. I want to see the world. To travel to Europe and Asia and…and the Pacific Islands. I read somewhere that they’re real nice.”

“You’ve said some mighty dumb things in your life, but this has got to be the dumbest.”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand.”