And Then You Dance

by Heather A Buchman

  “We talked about this last night. I told you it might be too weird for me to stay here. If you’ve decided you agree, all you have to do is say so.”

  “And I answered you last night. I want you here. I mean Jesus, Renie, look at all this.” He waved his hand around in the direction of his mess. “I wanted to make you breakfast.”

  He looked dejected. Her natural inclination was to rub his back and tell him how much she appreciated it. Or hug him. But since he flinched every time she touched him, she decided against an affectionate response.

  “Thank you Billy. When will it be ready?”

  “It’s ready now, go sit down.”

  “Stop pouting. You look as though somebody kicked your puppy.”

  “I suck at this. I wanted to make us breakfast. You cook for me all the time. Now look at the kitchen.”

  He’d done a good job of making the biggest mess she’d ever seen, but he’d put his heart into it. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  “This is the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me Billy. It’s sweet, and I’m starving.”

  That got a grin out of him, and when she kissed his cheek, he didn’t flinch.

  “I’ll even clean the kitchen.”

  “Nah, I can’t let you do that, but I’ll let you help.”

  She had to admit breakfast was good. Nothing was burnt. The pancakes had an odd taste, not bad, just different. She was afraid to ask him what he put in the batter.

  “Wanna go for a ride later?” he asked.

  “I’d love it. But Billy…I wish you’d stop flinching every time I touch you. It’s starting to give me a complex.”

  What was he supposed to say? Christ. Right now, he wanted to lick the bit of syrup off the corner of her mouth, and run his hands over the smooth skin on her legs. Her ridiculously long legs that he could see every bit of because of her impossibly short pajama bottoms.

  “Billy, did you hear me?”

  “Yeah. So do you want to ride or not?”

  “I told you I did, but you haven’t answered me. Why are you acting so weird?”

  “Just go get dressed,” he barked at her.

  “Keep talking to me like that, and you’re gonna be cleaning the kitchen by yourself cowboy. You might be finished by next weekend.”

  “I won’t be here next weekend.” Now he was growling.

  She threw her napkin down on the counter and stood. She put her dishes in the sink and went downstairs.

  Great. Now he made her mad.

  Less than two minutes later she was back upstairs. She was dressed and had her bags with her.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going home Billy. Everything I say or do makes you mad. Sorry about leaving you to clean up the kitchen, but it’s best if I go.”

  Oh no, no. This wasn’t what he wanted to happen. He paced around the kitchen and ran his hand through his hair.

  “Jesus Renie, I’m sorry. Look, we do need to talk. I just don’t know where to start. The last thing I want you to do is leave though.”

  She dropped her bags on the floor. She looked as though she was getting ready to cry. Renie almost never cried. He kept making things worse.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling her by the hand. “Let’s ride.”

  She went to get Pooh out of her stall while he figured out which horse to ride. She was so quiet. It wasn’t like her to be so quiet. Under normal circumstances, she’d be giving him hell for how he was acting.

  He walked to where she was brushing Pooh.

  “Come here,” he said and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what my problem is. Everything is off kilter this weekend. I can’t explain it.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “I hate this. We’re never like this. Why are we like this?”

  “No idea,” he answered, but he was lying again.

  They followed the heavily-treed trail until they reached the top of the short incline, in another few feet they’d come to a large meadow. Renie coaxed Pooh into a gallop.

  He stayed a few paces back, watching her ride. It was a beautiful thing. She was a perfect rider, a very natural one. Her long blond hair blew in the wind. It was cold enough today that he could see her breath and her horse’s. There was a mist hovering over the trees that made up the Black Forest.

  “Let’s go see your mom,” she shouted out before she took off in that direction.

  The best view of his parents’ house was from this meadow. The house wasn’t as modern as Liv’s house—his house now. It had been built in the traditional Colorado-style, with log siding and a tin roof. Each of the three levels had decks off the main rooms; the railings were painted forest green. In the summer, his mom hung baskets filled with colorful flowers off the decks. There were two stone fireplaces, one on each side of the house. Smoke streamed from the one near the kitchen.

  Renie climbed off Pooh and had opened the gate to the pasture by the time he rode up to the barn.

  “Meet you inside,” she said, running in the direction of the back door.

  His heart ran right along with her. Why had it taken him so long to realize she took it with her wherever she went?

  Renie went in, pulled her gloves off, and hung her jacket on the hook by the back door.

  “Dottie? You in here?” she called out.

  “Right here sweetheart. I saw you two out riding, so I put milk on the stove to make cocoa. Come in here and warm up by the fire.”

  Dottie pulled her into a big hug. Nobody gave hugs like Dottie. She held on a little longer than usual and then kissed her cheek. “Everything okay with you honey?”

  “I’m okay. But I don’t think Billy is,” she said, biting her lip. “He’s out of sorts.”

  “Pancakes didn’t go so well?”

  “No, the pancakes were fine. Wait. How did you…?”

  “He called and asked me how to make them. In the time he took to write the directions, I could’ve ridden over, made them for him, and ridden back home.” Dottie laughed. “It seemed important to him.”

  “He made bacon too.”

  Dottie raised her eyebrows.

  “The kitchen looks as though a war took place in it, and the main weapon used by both sides was flour.”

  “Oh dear. I can picture it.”

  “I don’t think that’s his problem though.”

  ***

  Dottie knew what his problem was. Billy figured out the obvious. Renie Fairchild held his heart in the palm of her hand. She’d been waiting for this day.

  ***

  “Hey Mama,” he said, coming in the back door and shedding his gloves and jacket as Renie had.

  “How’d the pancakes go this morning?”

  He glared at her, which made Renie laugh. “Billy I’ve known you most of my life, and I’ve never seen you cook anything. Did you think I’d believe you whipped them up all on your own?”

  He grumbled something she didn’t catch.

  “What are you two doing today? Besides cleaning the kitchen?” Dottie winked at Renie.

  “I’m beginning to think I made a mistake buying the house next door.”

  “Oh stop, you love livin’ next door to your mama.” Dottie patted his cheek.

  She was right, he did. He’d loved Liv’s house since he was a little boy, and they built it on the open ranch land next to his parents’ place.

  It had two floors, the main one, where the kitchen, family room, master bedroom, and two other bedrooms were. On that floor there were two big stone fireplaces, both were double-sided. One was between the kitchen and the family room; the other was between the master bedroom and bathroom. It was one of his favorite things about the house.

  On the lower level, there were three more bedrooms, and another double-sided fireplace that opened to the deck outside the walkout great room.

  The house had three bathrooms on the main floor and another three on the lower level. Billy doubted he’d ever set foot in more than two of them, but he
supposed if the time came that he ever had a family, they’d come in handy.

  The house sat on one hundred acres that bordered his parents’ land. Technically he lived next door to his parents, but there was a lot of open land, and a big, forested hill, between their two houses.

  Chapter 3

  Renie woke with a start. She’d been dreaming about Billy. Again. She wished she could find the damn off-switch for Billy dreams. She’d give anything not to think about him, not dream about him, yearn for him, ache for him, not miss him so much that her heart hurt the way it did.

  She thought by now it would have gotten easier, but it felt the same today as it had earlier this year, when she’d left him in San Antonio, standing in the hospital doorway holding the baby.

  It was different during the summer; she’d had a distraction then. Now that she didn’t have that distraction anymore, she felt as though she was right back where she started. A tear ran down her cheek. She didn’t bother to brush it away, tears running down her cheeks were as familiar to her as the pain she carried around with her every day.

  “Renie, are you in there?” asked Luke, Ben’s ten-year-old son.

  “Yep. You can come in,” she answered.

  Luke opened the door slowly and walked into the dark room.

  “Are you crying Renie?”

  “Nah.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You’re on to me, aren’t you?”

  Luke opened the blinds in the bedroom.

  “What are you doing?” she covered her eyes against the sunlight that streamed in.

  “It’s afternoon, time to get up and do something with your day.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m your worst nightmare,” Luke joked, sounding more like his dad than a little boy.

  “Go away.” She buried her head under her pillow. “I worked at the Goat until two in the morning Luke. I’m tired.”

  “Let’s go ride today Renie.”

  “No.”

  Luke got used to her saying no to him. And her getting mad at him every time he asked her to go riding. He also knew that if he pestered her long enough, she’d give in.

  He loved it when they went riding because it made her happy, and she smiled. He wanted her to smile all the time, the way she used to. Renie used to be the happiest person he knew. Now sometimes he thought she was the saddest.

  Renie stayed in a room on the lowest level of the three in Ben’s house. It reminded her of her mother’s house, where Billy lived now, but it had another level.

  There were two other bedrooms on the bottom floor, where Jake and Luke stayed when they were here, instead of at their mom’s. All three bedrooms had their own bathroom attached. There was also a family room on this level, complete with a big screen television, a pool table, foosball, and a ping-pong table.

  The main level had another family room, along with the kitchen, dining room, and master bedroom. Her mother used the small bedroom next to the master as an office. The top floor of the house had been converted into a recording studio, conference room, and office for Ben. His band, CB Rice, had exploded in popularity in the last couple of years. Prior to that, when he wasn’t touring, he’d worked at the Goat, and with his brothers on the ranch. He no longer had time to do either.

  — • —

  Billy wrote a text to Renie. Not going this weekend.

  Why not? she answered.

  Feeling off.

  Why?

  He wasn’t sure, but things had been off for him for most of the year. At the end of the previous year, he was the saddle bronc champ. This year he considered retiring. He knew it would mentally be worse for him to go out this weekend and have another crappy showing, than it would be for him to stay home and try to get his head on straight. He didn’t know where to start; so many things in his life weren’t working right.

  Are you coming down? Two could play the answer a question with a question game.

  Wasn’t planning to.

  Now what? Should he ask her to? That was part of the reason he wanted to stay home. He wanted to see her. Maybe by Friday she’d change her mind.

  She didn’t.

  ***

  Billy pulled up to O’Malley’s Pub in Palmer Lake, the town northwest of Monument. It would be crowded on a Friday night, and loud. He wanted loud. Maybe it would drown out all the stuff going on inside his head. The stuff about Renie.

  Gods somewhere were really fucking with him. If there were any girl alive—any single girl who walked the face of the earth—he shouldn’t be attracted to, it would be Renie. And she was all he could think about.

  He wanted to get drunk—rip roaring drunk.

  Several beers and a few shots of whiskey later, Billy realized was too drunk to drive home. He couldn’t think of anyone he could call to come get him. His parents would be sound asleep, not that he’d call them anyway. He was thirty-three years old, not twenty-three. Twenty-three. Renie was twenty-three. All week that’d been happening. No matter what random thought came to mind, something about her followed.

  He’d sleep it off in his truck until he sobered up. Wouldn’t be the first time.

  Renie decided to go to bed. She had no idea what made her drive down here in the first place. And now that she had, he wasn’t even home.

  Her phone chirped. Hey, said the text message.

  Hey, she answered.

  What r u doin?

  Hanging out in your house.

  My house?

  Yep.

  Thought you weren’t coming.

  Changed my mind.

  Renie waited ten minutes for another text from him. She sat there and stared at the phone. Waiting. Nothing. She walked around turning off lights, except the one in the kitchen. She might as well go downstairs and at least try to sleep. Tomorrow she’d drive back up to school. She wouldn’t get any studying done staying in Billy’s house.

  She was halfway down the staircase when her phone chirped again.

  Wish I hadn’t left tonight.

  Oh no. What did he expect her to say? Why?

  Cuz wish I was home.

  Where was he? In jail? Why don’t you come home?

  2 much 2 drink.

  Oh for Christ’s sake. Where are you?

  O’Malleys.

  On my way.

  Renie waited another two or three minutes to leave, in case he told her not to come, but he didn’t answer. It would take her at least twenty minutes to get there, he’d better still be there when she did.

  Billy was standing next to his truck when she pulled in. There wasn’t anywhere for her to park in the crowded lot. She stopped and rolled down her window.

  “Lookin’ for a ride cowboy?”

  Billy didn’t answer. He walked toward her car. Even drunk there wasn’t anything like watching Billy Patterson swagger. Renie was five ten, and Billy was at least six inches taller. He had dark, almost black hair. His eyes were blue, but pale, not dark blue like hers. By two in the afternoon, dark stubble would start to show on Billy’s face.

  His jacket was open in the front, and his red plaid True Grit shirt fit tight across his chest, even with the top two buttons undone. His tan suede cowboy hat sat low enough that his eyes were partially covered. He smiled at her, the kind of shit-eating grin that said he’d gotten exactly what he wanted. His perfectly symmetrical dimples helped him get away with more.

  “Hey there cowgirl,” Billy said, tipping his hat to her.

  Renie looked back and forth. “No cowgirls here.”

  He climbed in the passenger seat and turned sideways, so he faced her. “Come on Renie, you’re a cowgirl, you know you are. You have been since you were a little bit a nuthin’ ridin’ around on Pooh Bear.”

  “How much did you have to drink tonight Billy?”

  “Not enough to chase the ghosts away Renie.” Billy stroked the side of her face.

  Oh, no. “What ghosts?” she whispered.

  “Your ghosts Renie. You been ha
untin’ me tonight, you been hauntin’ me all week, and no amount of whiskey could get you out of my head.”

  Billy cupped the back of her neck. “You know what I’m talkin’ about Renie?”

  She couldn’t find her voice to answer. Billy was about to kiss her, but he was very drunk. If he did, and then didn’t remember tomorrow, it would kill her.

  “Please don’t Billy.”

  “I gotta.” He pulled her closer and put his lips on hers.

  She gasped, and her lips opened slightly. He must’ve taken that as a sign. His mouth went from gentle to rough, his tongue attacking hers.

  He pulled back, his hand still tight on her neck. “I knew it,” he said, his eyes looking deeply into hers.

  “What did you know Billy?”

  “Fucking amazing. I knew it would be.” He leaned forward and nipped her bottom lip, pulling it until her mouth opened to his again.

  When she started to get light-headed, Renie pulled back. “Let’s get you home,” she murmured.

  “Home.” He threw his hat over the seat. “I live in your house Renie.”

  “It’s your house now,” she pulled out of the parking lot on Highway 105 in the direction of home. “It used to be my mom’s house.”

  “I can feel you in it, even when you ain’t there. It’s your house too Renie. Your ghost hangs out there, hauntin’ me.”

  Yep, he was drunk. She had no idea what he was talking about and doubted he did either. She turned the music up, hoping he’d pass out between here and home. He leaned his head back on the seat; it looked as though he was well on his way.

  “Go to sleep Billy,” she said.

  When she pulled in, she woke him up, and helped him as far as the big sofa in the family room. She wouldn’t even try to get him in bed; that would mean she’d have to go in his room. She wasn’t ready to be in Billy’s bedroom with him.

  “Come here,” he said, lying on his back, reaching up for her.

  “Night Billy,” she said and tossed a blanket to him.

  “Wait Renie, come back, we need to talk.”

  We’ll talk in the morning if you even remember this, she thought as she went back down the staircase she headed down an hour ago. She wasn’t any readier to go to sleep now than she had been then.