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Her friend bit her lip, but got slowly to her feet, still looking as if she expected the hounds of hell to plow through the crowd and scoop them up for even contemplating having a grown-up drink.

Lindsay tried not to bite the girl’s fool head off, since she was the only real friend she had. The only one who shared her passion—her obsession—with horses, and had for most of their lives. She tried to look encouraging when Kathy shot her a last desperate glance before sneaking along the edges of the crowd to the bar.

She finally returned bearing two fizzy glasses of champagne. Lindsay groaned. “Oh, hell, Kathy, I can’t drink that stuff.” Kathy frowned at her then sat, sipping hers. Lindsay got up and sneaked behind the bar. While the young bartender was serving and the old guy was chatting with one of her father’s friends, Lindsay snagged a bottle from an open box and quickly retreated to the table.

Kathy had finished both glasses of champagne and was glaring out into the crowd. Lindsay elbowed her, indicating the bottle she was holding beneath the tabletop. Her friend pressed her lips together but pushed the empty champagne glasses over so Lindsay could fill them. They giggled, and clinked, and sipped. Kathy shuddered. “Yuck,” she said, wrinkling up her nose at the amber-colored liquid.

“It’s not the good stuff, no,” Lindsay said, refilling her glass—they were pretty small, after all—and refilling Kathy’s as well. The other girl held her nose and downed the contents. Face hot, Lindsay put a hand to her mouth, unable to suppress the giggles, or the hiccups, that hit her. Kathy joined her laughter, and they emptied about half the whiskey bottle between them before Lindsay’s mama got wind of it.

“Well, hey there, Mama,” Lindsay said, blinking fast. Her vision doubled while she grinned up into her mother’s furious face.

“Let’s go,” her mother demanded, glancing around at the diminishing crowd. “I have no earthly idea what possessed you to get drunk at your own engagement party but …” She blew out a breath. For a moment, Lindsay was tempted to confide in her, to ask her mother why she had to marry a man she’d never cared for, even as a boy. Why she couldn’t go to college and then on to vet school the way she wanted. What, exactly, she could expect when things progressed beyond kissing with a man. How come she wanted to go there, way beyond there, with the handsome man who tended her horses.

Then she realized she must be really drunk.

“Kathy, you go on and have the valet bring my car,” her mother said while Lindsay stared down at her feet, marveling at how nice they looked in the shiny red leather shoes.

“Get up, young lady.”

“Ow, Mama, that hurts.” Lindsay rubbed her arm where her mother had grabbed her and hauled her to her unsteady feet. “I’m gonna take this with me.” She reached for the bottle, confused by its absence, until she realized it was still under the table. “Hang on a sec.”

“Don’t you dare, Lindsay Alice,” her mother hissed in her ear as she half-dragged Lindsay through what was left of the party. “Where did your fiancé go, anyway?”

“Dunno,” Lindsay said, waving at the nice people who were grinning at her while her mother pushed and prodded her along. “Oh, hey, there’s Will’s mama. Let’s go ask her.” She turned and almost fell to her knees when her feet got tangled up in themselves. “Hey, Missus Scott. My mama wants to know where Will’s gone off to.” She cursed under her breath and slipped her feet out of the dangerous shoes, sighing with relief and noting the look of horrified satisfaction that settled on her future mother-in-law’s ugly face.

“Well, I’m sure I don’t know.” The woman raised an eyebrow at her two ugly daughters who were hovering, all smirky and self-satisfied.

“He left with Don and them, Mama,” one of the twins said, visibly recoiling when Lindsay flopped into a nearby chair and stuck her stockinged feet on another one. Just as she looked for someone who’d bring her a fresh drink, her mother caught up with her.

“So sorry, Dorothy,” her mama said, yanking Lindsay to her feet again and giving her arm an extra-hard pinch. “Poor Lindsay here is a little … nervous is all. You know how it is.”

Will’s mother pursed her lips even tighter.

“You look like a fish,” Lindsay said with a giggle.

“Well, I declare,” the woman said, putting a hand to her chest and moving away, as if Lindsay might be infectious.

Her own mother blew out a breath and called more apologies over her shoulder while shoving Lindsay in front her this time, until they were outside the club’s front doors. The night air was oppressive and close, pressing against Lindsay’s skin, making her wish she could hang her tongue out and pant.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, stop it,” her mother said, giving her a firm shake. Lindsay realized she must have given into that urge, but honestly couldn’t recall doing it. The Mustang convertible sat idling, top down, with the valet kid standing next to the open driver’s side door.

“Help me with her,” her mama snapped at him.

The young man obligingly trotted around and opened the passenger’s side door. Lindsay frowned at him. “No, I’m okay Mama, really. I think I’ll stay a bit longer. Maybe have another …” She moved over to the heavy wooden double doors and yanked at one of the handles. “If I can just get … in here. Crap!” She’d been trying the wrong one. But as she touched the other handle, someone lifted her up by the waist, turned and tossed her into the backseat of the car. “Hey!” She righted herself and tried to climb out.

“No. Stay,” a male voice said. Lindsay blinked.

“Anton, that you?”

“Who?” her mother demanded as she climbed behind the wheel, handed the valet a dollar, and put the car in gear.

“Never mind,” Lindsay said, slumping low in the seat. Nausea rose with every curve in the road, but they finally pulled into the circle drive in front of her childhood home. Lindsay sat gazing up at its painted white Georgian pillars, highlighted by carefully positioned light fixtures, stark against the deep red brick of the two-story mansion.

“I’m gonna just lie here a minute, Mama,” she muttered, flopping over to her side. The energy required to go inside, strip out of her stockings, girdle, and dress, then get into a bath, simply didn’t exist right then. She patted the soft leather, so warm and comfy and perfect.

“Lindsay Alice Halloran, you get yourself up and out of that car this minute.” Her mother appeared, looming over the door, her face a mask of fury and melting, overdone makeup.

“No, no, I’m fine. Go on in. I’ll be along. Soon.”

“I’m getting your brothers.”

“Okay,” Lindsay said, dreamy and already drifting as she turned over to look at the twinkly stars between the limbs of the giant oak tree which dominated the front lawn. She stuck her feet on the open window, crossed them at the ankles and grinned. Her mother left her alone, for how long Lindsay had no idea, but just as she was drifting into sleep, someone grabbed her ankle, making her yelp and sit up.

The quick movement had been a very bad idea. Her mouth watered as she tried to focus on who stood there. “Oh, no … Move!” She shoved whoever it was aside and threw up over the side of the car.

Chapter Six

The sun pierced her eyes, making Lindsay groan and roll over. But the pounding in her head seemed to suffuse every corner of her existence. There was no escaping it. She tried dragging a pillow over her head, but the pillow weighed too much. The whole world hurt. Her hair hurt. Even her toenails ached. Her mouth seemed stuffed full of cotton, or maybe hay. A knock at her door was followed by a creak when she didn’t answer.

“Good morning, sunshine!” her brother JR boomed. “Up and at ‘em!” He yanked her covers off and threw open the curtains, flooding her room with light that went straight to her brain in a shaft of agony and yet more nausea.