CHAPTER SIX
This was bound to be an interesting evening, Cal Patterson thought. He climbed into his truck wearing fresh-washed Wrangler’s, a string tie and polished boots. The big dance. Which meant there should be lots of entertaining activity as men and women of all ages flirted outrageously; making fools of themselves and each other. A few romances were always made at this kind of event, and a few broken. Yup, it was fascinating to watch, all right, especially if you were a disinterested observer. Like him.
But not like Glen.
Cal wasn’t sure where Glen had gone Wednesday afternoon, but his brother had returned in one hell of a mood. While he might not know the particulars, Cal would wager a case of beer that his brother’s rotten mood involved Ellie Frasier.
When Cal had made the mistake of mentioning Ellie in connection with the big dance, Glen had all but exploded. Even before Cal could ask any questions, Glen had slammed out the door, but not without dropping a couple of hints first. If Cal guessed right, Ellie had decided to accept Richard Weston’s invitation over Glen’s.
While her choice surprised him, Cal was the first to admit that women were inconstant creatures who rarely knew their own minds. Best to keep your distance. Next thing Cal knew, his little brother had asked Nell Bishop; it hadn’t done Glen’s ego any good when she’d turned him down, too.
Cal himself had been fool enough to let one woman kick him in the gut and had found the experience as painful as anything he’d ever known. By God, he wasn’t about to let it happen a second time. Glen, however, seemed destined to learn this particular lesson on his own.
Apparently his younger brother was a slow learner, because tonight he’d come downstairs in a new denim blazer and a pair of blue jeans so crisp they squeaked. His boots were polished to a gloss. One look dared Cal to comment.
He didn’t, but he could tell it wasn’t dancing that interested Glen. His brother intended to prove to Ellie, and quite possibly himself, that he didn’t need her to have a good time. In other words, he was determined to act like a world-class idiot in front of the entire town.
Cal could almost guarantee that before the end of this night, Glen was going to do something really stupid. Now, that would have some entertainment value, but more important, Cal considered it his brotherly duty to be there to pick up the pieces afterward. He felt for Glen; he’d been through this, too. Heartbroken and humiliated.
Oh, yeah, definitely best to keep your distance from women.
Cal heard the band playing when he parked his truck in a long line of vehicles outside the Grange Hall. Cars and trucks were crammed bumper to bumper on both sides of the two-lane highway; obviously the parking lot had filled early in the evening. From the look of things everyone in town had shown up for the dance that traditionally kicked off summer.
The piercing strains of a fiddle cut into the night, followed by a banjo and Pete Hadley’s melodic voice. Light spilled out of the open doorway and Cal could see a number of the married men clustered outside for a breath of fresh air. That, and a swallow or two of the hard stuff. Cal wasn’t much of a drinking man himself. A cold beer now and again was more to his liking.
Someone shouted a greeting and Cal raised his arm in silent salute, but didn’t stop to chat. He’d given his brother two hours—two hours during which he’d have his pride booted to hell and gone. If all went according to his calculations, Glen would be drunk soon or wish he was. Give him another hour. At that point Cal would step forward and haul him home.
The poor guy was in love, and while that alone guaranteed disaster, the worst of it was that Glen refused to admit it. Seeing his brother in such sad shape was akin to looking back two years and remembering the way he’d been with Jennifer. It amazed him now he hadn’t seen her for what she was. He’d been so deeply infatuated with her he would have done anything to make her happy. Anything to prove how much he cared.
He’d asked her to be his wife, and six months later she’d humiliated him by canceling their wedding at the last minute. All because he wouldn’t give up ranching and move to San Antonio or Houston. Jennifer, who’d transferred from Phoenix, Arizona, to take a short-lived job as an assistant bank manager, had wanted out of small-town America. She’d wanted to move him to a city so crowded he’d never be able to breathe.
Cal had loved Jennifer, but he couldn’t change who he was, not even for her. When he wouldn’t dance to her tune, she pulled out of the wedding only two days before the event. Then she’d skipped town, leaving him to deal with the explanations and the embarrassment. Last he’d heard, Jennifer was living in Houston with some salesman.
He should have realized from the first she was a city girl at heart. But, like Glen, he’d been in love and hadn’t recognized what was right there in front of him. Pushing thoughts of his ex-fiancée from his mind, he headed toward the hall.
The huge room was packed, forcing Cal to twist and turn as he made his way through the crowd. Men and women stretched across the hardwood floor in long rows, line dancing to the “Boot Scootin’ Boogie.” He remembered a few steps himself; Jennifer had insisted he learn the basics, despite the fact that he’d been born with two left feet.
When that song was over, the couples dancing started. Cal peered around, looking for Glen, and finally spotted him. His brother stood on the opposite side of the room, leaning against the bar, his narrowed gaze trained on the dancers. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who held his attention.
Ellie.
Cal’s eyebrows arched when he saw the object of his brother’s affection. He’d never seen Ellie look prettier. The dress wasn’t one with a Western flavor, which appeared to be the popular choice, but more old-fashioned. Elegant. She looked damn pretty, and Glen wasn’t the only one who’d noticed, either.
Richard Weston had his arm tightly wrapped around Ellie’s waist. From all appearances they were deeply involved with each other. This was worse than Cal had expected. He knew the type of man Richard Weston was, and he’d figured Ellie would’ve caught on fast enough herself. Apparently he’d overestimated her ability to judge character. It was a shame, too, because Richard was a user.
This protective feeling toward Ellie surprised Cal. He didn’t want to have any feelings toward women. Whatever you did, you got your teeth kicked in. Wasn’t worth it. No siree, he’d learned his lesson the hard way.
As he looked back at his brother, his eyes strayed to the woman standing directly to Glen’s left. It took him a moment to remember who she was. The new doc. The first time he’d noticed her she’d worn a power business suit to a barbecue; now she was dressed in jeans and a snap-button Western shirt. Not exactly appropriate attire for the year’s most formal event. Cal couldn’t help feeling sorry for her, even if she was a city girl, but suspected she found this hick-town dance highly amusing. He could picture her phoning her city friends and making fun of the way people dressed and talked in Texas.
The doc must have sensed his scrutiny because she glanced across the room and looked squarely back at him. He glared in her direction, wanting her to know that he didn’t like her attitude—or what he assumed her attitude to be.
The music ended just then, and before Cal could stop him, Glen marched onto the dance floor and headed straight for Ellie.
***
This was working out even better than Ellie had hoped. Glen hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her all evening. Richard viewed Glen as competition. She was well aware that his attentions had more to do with one-upmanship than any real interest in her; nevertheless she found flattery a balm to her wounded pride. She knew it was a superficial and childish reaction, but she couldn’t help it. Glen had really hurt her by asking Nell to the dance. Temporarily, at least, being with Richard was a way of assuaging that pain.
The one bad side effect was that Glen’s presence had brought out a possessiveness in Richard she wasn’t sure she liked.
The only man she wanted to dance with hadn’t even approached her. He’d followed her every move but hadn’t made one of his own. Glen must’ve been reading her thoughts, though, because as soon as the music ended, he squeezed through the maze of people and stopped directly in front of her.
“The next dance is mine,” he announced, his grim eyes challenging her to contradict him.
She stared at him, astonished. This was a side of her friend she’d never seen. Demanding, intense. Generally he took everything in his stride, live and let live, that sort of thing. But this… Ellie didn’t know what to think.
“You’ve danced with Richard three times now. It’s my turn.”
“You’re counting?”
“Yes,” he snapped. He grasped her about the waist, dragged her close and clenched her hands as if expecting Pete to break into the “Beer Barrel Polka.”
“Isn’t this dance mine?” Richard asked with a look of sardonic surprise.
“She’s dancing with me,” Glen responded before she had a chance to answer.
“Ellie?” Richard turned to her with lifted brows.
Glen’s arms tightened around her defiantly.
“It’s all right,’ she assured the other man. “I’ll dance with Glen.” She waited until Richard had left the dance floor, then burst out, “What’s gotten into you?” She had to raise her chin to look him in the eye.
“Plenty,” he responded gruffly.
The music started again and Glen whirled her to the opposite side of the room and as far away as possible from Richard. The dance number was a mournful ballad about love gone wrong. Ellie found it a fitting choice. Couples flocked onto the dance floor, their arms around each other like clinging blackberry vines.
Glen didn’t say anything, but he held her close, arms tight, jaw tense. But gradually he relaxed and so did she. They’d just found their rhythm when Richard approached and tapped Glen on the shoulder.
“My turn,” he said with the smug certainty of a man who knew he’d eventually get what he wanted.
Ellie saw Glen’s eyes flare in annoyance before he slowly released her. With his high sense of drama Richard grabbed her about the waist and dipped her backward until Ellie gasped, thinking her feet were about to go out from under her. Then Richard pulled her upright and danced her to the other side of the room, away from Glen.
Just when she’d adjusted her steps comfortably to Richard’s, Glen was back. Without a word he tapped Richard on the shoulder. Richard gave Glen a flinty-eyed glare, then unwillingly released her.
Glen gathered her back in his arms, but they hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps before Richard interrupted a second time. The two men scowled at each other.
“This is ridiculous!” Ellie cried. “What’s the matter with you, Glen?”
“Me?” he exploded.
“You heard the lady,” Richard said with a mocking smile that suggested Glen was making a nuisance of himself.
“You’re no better,” she snapped, hands aggressively on her hips.
The music faded and the couples closest to them stopped dancing to stare at the unfolding scene. Ellie had never been so embarrassed in her life. Before another minute had passed, Frank Hennessey was standing between the two men. Although he wasn’t at the dance in his capacity as sheriff, he was the law in town and no one questioned his right to intervene. Dovie Boyd, who was with him, cast Ellie a sympathetic look.
“Is there a problem here, boys?” Frank asked, placing emphasis on the last word. It was a not-so-subtle reminder that this sort of skirmish was generally reserved for adolescents.
“Nothing Richard and I can’t settle outside,” Glen said.
“Glen!” Ellie couldn’t believe her ears.
“That’s fine with me,” Richard answered quickly, raising his fists.
“Just one minute.” Frank put a hand on each man’s shoulder. “No one’s going outside. If there’s anything to settle, we’ll do it right here and now.” He nodded at Glen. “What’s the problem?”
“I’d like to finish the dance with Ellie without Richard cutting in.”
“Hey, it’s a free country,” Richard said, his tone cocky.
“Richard and I can settle this between us, man-to-man.” Glen flexed his hands a number of times, letting Richard know he welcomed the opportunity to shove a fist down his throat.
“Neither of you is leaving this hall,” Frank stated in a friendly but unmistakably firm tone. “At least not in your present frame of mine.”
“I asked Ellie to dance first,” Richard insisted.
“The hell you did!” Glen shouted.
“Ellie?” Frank turned his attention to her. “Which one of them yahoos you want to dance with?”
She glanced from one man to the other. Richard wore a smug contemptuous look and Glen’s dark brooding expression didn’t make her feel much better. It was as if he thought he had squatter’s rights or something.
“Neither one,” she announced coolly.
Glen’s mouth sagged open. “Fine,” he muttered.
“But, sweetheart…” Richard objected.
Unwilling to listen to either one of them, Ellie turned abruptly and muttered to Dovie and Frank, “I’m going to get a glass of punch.” Glen and Richard were insufferable fools, she told herself, both of them plagued with oversize egos. She refused to allow them to make an idiot out of her, too.
Every eye in the room was focused on Ellie as she marched off the dance floor. She could feel the heat building in her face; she could hear the curious whispers all over the room.
Savannah and Caroline met her at the edge of the dance floor and gathered close around her. “Are you all right?” Savannah asked.
Ellie didn’t know how to answer. Glen and Richard had made spectacles of themselves and a laughingstock of her. “I’m so furious I could scream.”
Savannah nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. Sit down and I’ll get you a glass of punch. It’ll calm your nerves.”
In her present mood it would take a whole lot more than a cold drink to calm her. Thankfully the music had started again, and as people resumed dancing, they seemed to have forgotten the incident. To Ellie’s annoyance, Savannah wasn’t the one who returned with the punch; Glen brought it to her, instead. She glared up at him before accepting the glass.
He stood beside her for a couple of moments, then wordlessly claimed the empty chair next to hers.
Ellie crossed her legs and turned slightly, granting him a partial view of her back.
“You might have let me know,” he said after several tense minutes.
“Know what?”
“That you’d accepted Richard’s invitation to the dance.”
“Oh, that’s rich.” She twisted around to face him, struggling to keep her voice under control. “You make a point of asking if I was going to be at the dance and I thought—I assumed… I spent a fortune on the dress, and the next thing I hear, you invited Nell.”
“You bought that dress for me?” His face brightened and the beginnings of a smile edged up the corners of his mouth.
“You’d look pretty silly in a dress, Glen Patterson. No, I bought it for me.”
He grinned roguishly at that, but his amusement faded when it became clear that Ellie was about to end the conversation.
“You’ll note I’m not here with Nell,” he said softly.
“Nell came with Grady, then.”
“Grady asked her, too?” Glen’s mouth snapped shut and he leaned hard against the back of the chair. He focused his attention on the dance floor. “I’d never have invited her if you hadn’t agreed to go with Richard. I thought you and I were going to meet here.”
“That’s what I thought, too.”
“But you said yes to Richard, anyway.”
Ellie bristled. “I didn’t until I’d heard you’d asked Nell.”
Glen’s face went blank, then his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why, that slimy…” he muttered. “Richard told me—” Glen stopped abruptly as if he’d already said more than he intended.
“Told you what?” Ellie pressed.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter,” he muttered.
“There’s no need to get short-tempered with me.” Ellie crossed her arms and glared straight ahead.
Beside her, Glen crossed his arms, too, and scowled darkly at the other side of the room.
***
It was now or never, Caroline decided. Pete Hadley had just announced that the next dance was ladies’ choice. Heart pounding, Caroline slowly approached Grady. He sat next to Cal Patterson, and they were deeply involved in conversation. Her guess was that it had something to do with Glen and Ellie. The pair were the subject of a great deal of comment tonight. Little wonder, considering the scene they’d created earlier. Both of them now sat at the end of a row of seats, arms crossed and looking about as miserable as any two people could get.
About as miserable as she’d been the past few days—since her most recent encounter with Grady.
Couples were already heading toward the dance floor, and if she waited any longer, she’d miss the opportunity entirely. Savannah, on Laredo’s arm, cast her an encouraging smile and nodded in Grady’s direction. Savannah had actually been the one to persuade her to clear the air with Grady.
Grady and Cal’s conversation halted as she reached them. Grady looked up at her as if he couldn’t imagine why she was standing in front of him, blocking his view.
“Would you care to dance?” she asked, gesturing weakly toward the couples already circling the polished floor. Her pulse increased by fifty beats a minute, and she was sure he was going to humiliate her by refusing.
Grady frowned.
“It’s ladies’ choice,” she elaborated, her voice growing small.
Grady glanced to either side. “You’re asking me?”
“No,” she snapped, her anger saving her. “I thought I’d start at the front of the row and work my way down. If you refuse, I’ll ask Cal next. Come on, Grady, it shouldn’t be such a difficult decision.”
It seemed for a moment as if he was about to decline, then, to her enormous relief, he got to his feet. “I’m not much good at this,” he muttered.
He walked stiffly at her side to the dance floor. Then he put his arm around her waist, but maintained a space between them as if he feared she carried something contagious.
“I don’t generally bite,” she said, amused more than insulted.
“Promise?” he asked, and drew her somewhat closer.
The music was soft and mellow, and they shuffled their feet a bit, not really dancing, which was fine with Caroline. Her skill was limited, too. She looked out over the dance floor and recognized quite a few couples. Savannah and Laredo were lost in each other’s arms. How she envied the happiness her friend had found. Caroline’s heart ached with a sudden loneliness for that kind of love and contentment.
“Why’d you ask me to dance?” Grady asked gruffly.
“I figured I’d have to,” she said. “The last time we spoke, you said I’d have to ask you.”
She felt some of the stiffness leave his body. “In other words the ball’s in my court now.”
Caroline grinned. “Something like that.”
Grady’s hold on her tightened and he gave a deep sigh as he eased her closer. For several moments, neither one spoke.
Caroline knew she’d have to bring up the subject of their last argument. This was her opportunity to mend fences with Grady, and she didn’t want to waste it. “I felt bad after our conversation the other day.”
“I did, too,” he said. “I’m a bit of a hothead.”
“And I’m too impatient.”
They didn’t seem to have much more to say after that, and before long the dance was over.
“I didn’t step on your toes, did I?” he said as they walked off the floor.
“I seem to have survived.”
He grinned, and she smiled back. Caroline held her breath, hoping maybe now he’d ask her to dance. He didn’t.
“Thanks,” he said when they returned to the sitting area.
“You’re welcome.” Caroline turned away, swallowing her disappointment.
***
Glen couldn’t sit still. He’d been home from the dance for an hour and hadn’t stayed in any one position for longer than five minutes. He sat down in front of the television, then bolted upright and stalked to the kitchen, thinking feverishly.
He brewed himself a cup of instant coffee and carried it into the living room. Cal was watching the late-night newscast and glanced curiously in his direction.
Glen sat back down, but was squirming a few minutes later.
“What in tarnation is the matter with you?” Cal demanded when Glen bounded out of the recliner for the sixth time in as many minutes.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Glen lied.
“You’re thinking about Ellie again, aren’t you?”
He was, but Glen had no intention of admitting it. “What makes you say that?”
Cal gave a bark of laughter. “Because, little brother, you’ve got it written all over you.”
“Got what?”
“You’ve fallen for Ellie.”
Glen opened his mouth to deny it, but changed his mind. After the spectacle he’d made of himself in front of the entire community, he’d look like an even bigger fool claiming otherwise. He did have feelings for Ellie, but he hadn’t decided what they were. He was protective of her, like a brother, but his reactions to Richard and his behavior that evening had proved it was more than that. He wasn’t sure anymore what he felt.
“Richard drove her home,” he muttered, stating for the first time what had been on his mind since leaving the dance.
“You don’t trust him to be a gentleman?”
“Damn right. I don’t.” The more Glen thought about Richard alone with Ellie, the more agitated he got. It would be just like that scumbag to try something with her. Ellie knew how to handle herself, but she was vulnerable, and Richard was just the kind of man who’d try to take advantage of that.
“I’m driving into town,” he announced. He wanted to reassure himself that Richard had gone—and he wanted to talk to Ellie.
“Now?” Cal glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly midnight.”
“I don’t care what time it is.” Decision made, Glen reached for his jacket and hurried to the door. He should have followed Ellie home, that was what he should’ve done, but they’d barely spoken after their big scene.
“You might phone her first,” Cal suggested.
Glen paused and considered his brother’s idea, then shook his head. “I have things to say, and that’s best done face-to-face.”
“What are you going to say to her this time of night?” Cal wanted to know.
“I’m not sure yet,” Glen admitted, letting the screen door bang shut. He hadn’t worked anything out; maybe the moment would bring some inspiration.
The drive into town was accomplished in record time. He parked on her street, drew a couple of shaky breaths and headed for her house. He rang the bell, and when she didn’t immediately appear, he pounded on the door.
The porch light went on and then he heard Ellie moving about on the other side. “Who’s there?”
“Glen!” he shouted loud enough to wake half the neighborhood. “Open up, Ellie. I need to talk to you.”
“It’s the middle of the night,” she protested, but he heard the lock turn.
She was wearing a flannel robe cinched at the waist. Her hair was mussed and he could see he’d roused her from bed. She didn’t invite him inside, which was just as well.
“I’m warning you,” she muttered. “This had better be important.”
“It is.” Then to his acute embarrassment, his mind went blank. Not only that, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Even without makeup, her hair flattened on one side, she was beautiful. It astonished him that he’d spent all that time with her week after week, year after year, and never really seen her.
“Would you kindly stop staring at me!”
Glen hadn’t realized he was. “Is Richard with you?” he asked, and knew immediately that this was the worst possible thing he could have said.
In response Ellie slammed the door in his face.
Glen clutched the frame, knocked his forehead against the door and gritted his teeth. Hoping she’d give him the opportunity to redeem himself, he pressed the doorbell again.
“Ellie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he shouted, praying she could hear him.
His apology was met with silence. Then finally, “Go away.”
“I can’t,” he said, utterly miserable.
The porch light went out. Feeling completely dejected and the biggest fool who’d ever roamed the earth, he sat on the top step. He propped his elbows on his knees and dangled his hands between his legs, lacking even the energy to get up and walk to his truck.
He must have sat there a good ten minutes before he heard the door open softly behind him. If he hadn’t been so thoroughly depressed, he would have leaped to his feet and begged Ellie to forgive him. But in his current frame of mind, he was convinced she’d phoned Sheriff Hennessey. He wouldn’t have blamed her.
To his surprise she sat down next to him.
“I’m sorry, Ellie,” he whispered, still not looking at her. “I can’t believe I asked you something so stupid.”
“I can’t believe you did, either.”
“I kept thinking about him driving you home, and I don’t know, something crazy came over me.” Even knowing he’d probably infuriate her further, Glen asked, “Did he kiss you?”
She groaned and, leaning forward, buried her face in her hands.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“It means it’s none of your business.”
So Richard had kissed her. Glen would bet just about anything on that. It was obvious; otherwise she’d have been quick to deny it. His heart sank. At one time it wouldn’t have bothered him, but now it did. A hell of a lot.
“What’s happened to us?” she asked. “We used to be such good friends.”
“We were,” he agreed. “Good friends.”
“And then you kissed me.”
Talk about mistakes—but Glen really couldn’t make himself regret that kiss. He’d relived it for days, remembering how it felt to hold Ellie in his arms, taste her lips, touch her hair. How it felt to be so close.
“Damn me if you want, but I’d give anything to kiss you right now,” he whispered.
He was aware of her scrutiny and half turned to meet her gaze. “Because you think Richard kissed me earlier?” she asked.
“No,” he said softly. “Because I need to.” He reached for her, and his heart swelled with joy when she met his lips with an eagerness that matched his own. This was what he’d wanted, what he’d needed all along. Ellie in his arms. Ellie at his side.
“This is what I want, too,” she whispered, her lips moving over his.
Glen kissed her again. For the first time that evening—that entire week—he was at peace.