Sixteen and Dying by Lurlene McDaniel Page A

felt cold and hard in her grip. Once she stepped out of the room, this part of her life would dissipate like smoke. She wanted to run back to him, throw herself in his arms, and beg him to hold her, kiss her. She knew in that moment that she loved him, but could never tell him.
    “Good-bye,” she whispered. And with more bravery than she ever dreamed she possessed, Anne stepped quickly into the night.
    She arose early the next morning and went straight to the lodge. The aroma of fresh coffee, sizzling bacon, and baking biscuits filled the air, and a radio played country music in the background.
    When she entered, Morgan struggled up from oneof the sofas and came toward her. “Morning,” he said. His eyes looked guarded.
    “You feeling all right?” she asked, her heart thudding.
    “I ache all over. Uncle Don’s relieved me of my duties for the next week; the doctor told us it’ll take at least six weeks for the ribs to completely heal. Anyway, I’m supposed to be taking it easy.”
    “Then you should still be in bed, resting.”
    “I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to apologize for last night.”
    Anne nervously glanced down at the floor. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”
    “I was out of line. I never should have asked you what I did.”
    She didn’t want him taking it back. She wanted to think, even now, that he’d meant what he’d said. “It’s okay. Forget it.”
    “I guess that bronco rattled my brain,” Morgan said with a sincere smile. “I’m sorry if I insulted you.”
    “You didn’t insult me.”
    “Then you’re not angry at me?”
    “I’m not.”
    Morgan tipped the brim of his hat to her, then limped painfully away.
    Anne thought the matter was settled and that she and Morgan were finished, so when Maggie asked her to go see Morgan down in the barn, she was surprised and mystified. She hurried to the barn, eager to spend any time she could near him. When she came in out of the hot, bright sun, she saw Morganleaning against the gate of a stall, the fancy leather-and-silver saddle thrown over it.
    “It came!” Anne cried, hurrying over. She’d forgotten all about it. “Do you like it?”
    “I thought my apology was enough.” His voice sounded cool.
    Anne felt her smile fade. “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Did you think you had to soothe my feelings with this?”
    She was confused by his hostility. “I thought you’d like it. That you would use it on the bay, during parades. I thought you’d be pleased.”
    He shook his head and pushed stiffly away from the stall. “You little rich girls are all alike. You think that you can buy anybody’s favor, purchase anything you want with Daddy’s money.”
    “Rich?” She couldn’t believe his assumption. “What makes you think I’m rich?”
    “I know what that saddle cost. I’ve looked at it many times. Don’t tell me you didn’t spend a fortune on it.”
    Anne was speechless. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t wealthy, hadn’t been born into the lap of luxury. Yet, how could she explain? She clamped her lips tightly. There was no way, of course. It was far better to allow Morgan to cling to his false assumptions about her than for her to explain reality. “It’s a gift, Morgan, with no strings, no hidden motives.”
    “I don’t want it.”
    She held her head high. “It’s yours anyway. If you really don’t want it, you can throw it in the garbage, for all I care. Rich girls like me can buy others.” Shespun, kicking up dust and hay with her boots, and jogged quickly away from the barn and the gleaming saddle.
    The next week dragged for Anne. She didn’t feel well, either. Her glands were swollen, and a persistent cough plagued her. Sometimes she awoke in the night sweating profusely. Her appetite decreased, but she attributed that to the unhappiness she felt over her estrangement from Morgan.
    One afternoon, a steady rain forced all activity on the ranch to a standstill. Anne confined herself to a game of