by Rita Hestand
"Yes, very close." Emma smiled in fond remembrance a tremor of loneliness shooting through her.
"Or Sammie Jo's dad. How come?"
Emma shrugged, "I don't like dwelling in the past. Besides, he wasn't worth talking about . . ."
"Where'd you meet him?"
Emma grew uncomfortable; she should tell him the truth now that he opened the gate for it. But something kept her silent. Perhaps because they were going to a dance and the evening had started out so nicely. She didn't want to ruin that feeling. "Joel grew up in the same small community. Like Devil's Corner, everyone knew everyone."
"And Charlie?"
"Charlie was our next door neighbor, so to speak."
"What about your father? Did he kick you and Sammie Jo out?"
Emma shook her head and looked him straight faced. "No, it was nothing that serious. I guess I've given you the wrong impression about my father, but he wasn't a mean person. Just a little near-sighted."
Emma preferred thinking of her father in this manner. She never felt sorry for herself, she simply lived the life she'd been dealt.
"It's just–he's not comfortable around women. I learned how to cope with it, through the years, but I didn't want to subject Sammie Jo to his biased way of life. We are better off on our own, anyway."
"You're not alone anymore Emma." Deke stepped on the brake and came to a standstill. His arm rested along the back of the seat and heat radiated up her spine from the realization. Their expressions met and held for a long second, till good sense prevailed. His words held her heart captive.
For just a hesitating second she thought Deke was going to kiss her again, but he motioned that they had arrived and the moment was broken.
The community dance hall was held at an old abandoned warehouse out in the middle of an empty field. Emma didn't know what to expect from the looks of it. However, from the moment they walked inside, the atmosphere changed.
Dim lights, a live country band, and lots of conversation floated about the huge old building wrapped in a have-fun decor. People were dressed in every fashion, from jeans and T-shirts to fancy square-dance dresses to evening attire.
The sawdust dance floor took up a large portion of the middle area, as punch-bowls and snack tables lined both sides. Small tables were put together all around, and the place was packed with people mingling everywhere.
Deke's mood lightened the moment they stepped inside. He'd been howdy'd to death. He took Emma by the elbow and guided her about, introducing her to friends and neighbors. Before they were seated long she was asked to dance. Emma glanced at Deke and he winked. "Go ahead, have some fun, Emma."
Emma tried to beg off, but the old gentleman was having none of that and swung her into a quick two-step. Emma did her best to keep up, she stumbled a couple of times. Didn't rattle the old man a bit, he just kept on dancing.
After the first dance, the man's wife appeared and took him in tow. Silently grateful, Emma walked back to the table.
"That was Henry Parish," Deke informed her. "He's the custodian at the Sweetwater First National Bank. He used to have one of the biggest spreads this side of the Red River. But unfortunately, he only had one son, not enough to keep the ranch going. He's seventy-four years old and hasn't missed a dance in over fifty years." Deke informed her. "Have a seat Emma; I'll get us some punch. Are you hungry?"
"No, not really. You mean to tell me they've had this particular dance for over fifty years?"
"Not in the same building, of course, but yes, that's right."
Emma gasped.
"I'll be right back," Deke said, as he bent closer. Close enough for Emma to get a whiff of his clean woodsy after-shave. "Remember you are here to enjoy yourself, Emma. Relax."
Emma nodded woodenly, glancing about. Regrettably she was letting the boss affect her, she knew better.
Afraid she might stand out like some kind of idiot while on the dance floor, she looked around to see if anyone was staring. No one was. Everyone here seemed to be either absorbed in conversation with friends or dancing.
Emma let out a little sigh of relief and relaxed into the chair as she watched several couples on the floor. By the way they danced she could pick out the ones that had been together for a while. They seemed to melt into a routine of dances, their movements coordinated. She'd wanted to line dance since she had been a kid, but had been afraid to try.
Deke was detained by a beautiful young blonde woman while Emma was whipped upon the dance floor several more times. Finally, Clint rescued her.
"So, are you enjoying the dance, Emma?"
"Yes, It's–fascinating."
"My big brother treating you right?"
"Y-yes, he went to get some punch," Emma replied glancing about and seeing him still standing beside the blonde.
"Uh-huh, got snagged by Lori Martin again, I see. She's had her eye on Deke a long time, but he never took the hint. My brother is kinda dense about women. He's had his head filled with cattle and ranching' too long. He needs to relax and forget about responsibility."
"Why hasn't he married, or any of you for that matter?" As soon as the question was out, she wanted to bite her tongue, but it never stood to reason why these gorgeous men were not married.
"Deke's been carrying the load since Dad got sick, reckon he just don't have the time. As for me, well, I've come close a time or two." Clint's eyes took on a somber expression. Then a broad smile burst across his face as he pulled her closer. "Rusty, he's a one woman man, and he'll probably be the first to settle down. Jake, well, Jake's got bigger plans. He just doesn't want to leave Deke in no spot. I look for Jake to be movin' on, anytime now."
"Would he leave Deke in a spot?" Emma queried.
"No. Not intentionally. But he can't stay here forever. Even Deke wouldn't hold him back. You see Jake's studying law. Put two years in at SMU. Worked his butt off to get there too. Yeah, I reckon he's the only one with a head on his shoulders. His education got interrupted, a little, but he's planning on going back first of next year. He'll probably end up a lawyer or at least a sheriff. Jake's a tough one, law is what he's interested in. He'll be the only one of the bunch to really make anything of himself."
"You don't believe that. Everyone has potential, Clint. Everyone. Tell me, are you going back to the rodeo?" Emma looked him in the eye, unable to understand why a man with so much future would want to break his neck on a bull.
"Probably. Don't have any better sense. Had an Uncle like that. Guess it's in the blood."
Emma tried to smile.
"Ranching is sorta dull. I mean, heck, I was raised on a ranch, know everything there is to know about it. It's so stationary. Once you get a taste of rodeo life, it sorta sticks. And I've seen that same look in Deke's eye, too. I know it's dangerous." He whirled her about with a quick dip. "But I like it."
Emma laughed, just as Deke stepped up to the two of them.
"May I cut in?" His face was like a storm cloud.
Why did he look so angry?
"Sure big brother, but don't hog her, she's a sweet change from the locals around here." Clint laughed and let Emma go into Deke's arms.
"Where's Abby?"
"Don't know. I run into her old man said she left town a while back and hasn't been back."
"That's strange," Deke frowned.
"Yeah, it sure is." Clint hung his head and walked off.
Dancing with Deke was immensely different; Emma quickly decided as he took her in his arms and cradled her softly against him. It wasn't necessarily the kind of dance that a man has to pull a woman close, but he did, and she didn't resist.
Their body heat seemed to make both of them aware of each other and Deke quickly pulled back just a little. She inhaled the scent of wood, hay, and leather. His cheek felt amazingly soft when he finally managed to relax enough to let her rest there.
Emma felt stiff though. Dancing with Clint was easy, he did all the fancy moves, and all she had to do was follow. But with Deke she felt an immedi
ate awareness that left her awkward again. As though her feet didn't belong on the floor. She sensed he was pulling away from her for some reason and it made her nervous. If he didn't want to dance with her, why had he broken in?
"You know Deke, you aren't obligated to dance with me," Emma muttered. "You've done your share at making me feel at home."
"That's what you think," Deke pulled away so he could probe her.
Her hands sweat into his as he stared down into her puzzled face. She wished he wouldn't look at her like that–so intense.
"It's pretty obvious, you don't want to dance with me," she blurted, wanting to run away, before she cried or said something she'd regret.
"I told you I don't dance," he explained, pulling her up closer, so that her body fit against his.
"You're doing a pretty fair job of it," she barely recognized her own voice.
Strange how they seem to fit so perfectly together. Her lack of composure had her slipping into overdrive–again. Being in Deke's arms played havoc with her heart and mind, and Emma couldn't stop the feeling of drowning into him. She couldn't afford to. She couldn't afford another Charlie.
Her legs no longer belonged to her, her mouth went dry, her hands melded into his, her heart pounded so loud she feared detection. God, what was wrong with her? None of the other men affected her this way. They were only dancing. She had to get a grip on reality.
The music changed somewhere in between their heated glances and slowing conversation.
This would never do, Emma's mind screamed in alarm. She couldn't allow herself to make a fool of herself. She needed to escape Deke's wonderful arms. She'd beg off politely.
But the music ensconced her, into a dream-like state. Those big protective arms of his became her cocoon. Oh yes, this must be what people called a little bit of heaven, Emma sighed as her head came to rest comfortably on his shoulder and her eyes closed momentarily.
"You smell nice Emma," his words were softly spoken, "like Jasmines", his lips almost touching her cheek. He sounded sincere, yet almost regretful. As though he said those kinds of things against his own nature.
But Emma didn't care anymore, she was in Deke's arms, where she wanted to be, and she wanted to enjoy it–just a little. Even though her brain kept whispering hints of alarm, she ignored it.
Oh yes, she was enjoying herself now. All the months of pent up frustration, the months of running and hiding, and trying to make ends meet didn't seem to matter. Now she was safe, and warm, and drifting on some gossamer cloud. A cloud where only she and Deke seemed to exist.
"Waltz across…," the country singer wailed, as Deke continued to hold her close, continued to whisper sweet little words into her ear, until she forgot everything but Deke Travers.
Maybe she imagined them. Maybe she invented them. She couldn't be sure, the way she was feeling.
All too soon someone tapped Deke on the shoulder and she was whisked into a quick two-step again and lost in the crowd, with a stranger. Emma glanced about, her eyes flying open and around the room for Deke, but she no longer saw him, and her mind came back to reality with a fast jerk.
God, what had she been thinking, letting a dance carry her away like that? She probably dreamed Deke's words. Of course she had, Mr. Cowboy wouldn't say he wanted her on a dance floor, in front of all these people. Wanted her? She'd better get a grip on reality fast. Deke Travers was her boss, and only being kind to her. She had better sense than to go making something of it.
Mingling during the next number she spotted Bertha.
"So, how's workin' at the 4 Bar None?" Bertha came up beside her.
"I'm enjoying it, Bertha." Emma replied glad to see a familiar face.
"I guess this place is a little overwhelming for a first timer. But neighbors so seldom get together out here. Holding a dance once a month was a good excuse to catch up on all the gossip."
"We never did anything this big, back home, I mean, not as a community," Emma said as she smiled and her nervous foot began to keep time with the music.
"So where is that beautiful little baby of yours? I was anxious to see her again," Bertha blurted giving her quick once over, as a friend passed and she waved.
"Cal's watching her," Emma replied, sipping the punch she hadn't gotten around to drinking.
"Is he now? That rascal. I sorta wish he'd have come. He could've brought her with him."
"He said he might."
"I hope so. So how they treatin' you at the 4 Bar None?"
"Oh it's wonderful out there Bertha, so quiet and peaceful, and the Travers bunch are so nice."
Bertha chuckled.
Emma watched a couple out on the floor, kissing, dancing, and all wrapped up in each other.
Bertha chuckled as her gazed flitted from Emma to the couple. "That's Bill Gillespie and his new bride. Been married all of four days now."
"They certainly look happy with each other, don't they?"
"Four days, honey! They're still honeymooners. Wait till they been married a while. Then she'll be over at the food table arranging things, and he'll be off like your man, Deke there, talking to the other ranchers."
Emma looked in the direction Bertha was staring. Deke stood in the middle of a small crowd of men, his face serious, and his head nodding.
"Oh, he's not mine, Bertha. He was kind enough to escort me here so I might meet some of my neighbors, that's all."
"Uh-huh. Well, Deke rarely escorts anyone. I can tell you that much. Rarely dances, so don't kid me, honey. I just never figured it would be him." Bertha was studying Deke like a fly under a microscope.
"Never be him? What are you talking about, Bertha?"
"Half the towns laid money it would be Jake or Clint."
"What would be Jake or Clint?"
"Why the one you'd want to marry, of course." Bertha chuckled as though there was a big joke somewhere, and she wasn't getting the punch line.
"Marry!" Emma shrieked.
"Well, that's what everyone's hoping of course. And who'd blame you with all those gorgeous men to choose from."
Emma felt her anger surge from nowhere. "You mean people here are taking bets on me–and them?"
"Oh now, don't be offended, hon, we don't mean no harm. It's just we don't have much to speculate on out here. Most of the locals are done took. It's purely natural that we'd think you'd pick one of those boys. You could do a lot worse for yourself. There ain't a throw away in the bunch."
"But Bertha, I'm not here to pick a husband!" Emma cried loud enough for a couple to over-hear and smirk. Wanting to set the record straight, Emma went on to explain. "I have a child to take care of. I don't have the time for a husband, or to look for one."
"That's all the more reason to look. A woman alone with a baby. You need a man, and don't you go thinkin' you don't. Besides, what's to look for, they're right at your back door. Anyway, you don't ever go lookin' for a husband, they just sorta happen. Oh now, don't go gettin' riled up about it, honey. It's only natural. So why the hell not? And if for no better reason than the baby itself."
Emma nearly spewed her punch in Bertha's face. She might have gone on with her protest if she hadn't spotted Cal coming her way with the cutest little angel on his hip.
"You brought her!" Emma cooed, taking Sammie Jo into her arms immediately and hugging her.
"There's my little scamp. Come here darlin, say hello to Bertha." Bertha grabbed Sammie Jo into her big arms and hugged her tight.
Sammie Jo giggled.
Cal shook his head. "Just like a woman, gotta start all that hugging and kissing."
"Oh Cal, she looks so cute, but where did you get that dress and boots?" Emma eyed him suspiciously.
"Remind me later, I'll tell you all about it. Excuse me ladies, won't you? I better go shake some hands, or I'll be accused of flirting." Cal chuckled as he sauntered away from them. "Save me a dance, Bertha."
"Sure darlin'. Oh that Cal." Bertha shook her head and watched him move into the same circle where De
ke stood. "He's a wonder. You know, he looks better somehow than the last time I saw him. Deke must be really gettin' after him about the cigarettes."
"No, actually, he's slowed down on his own," Emma remarked as she took Sammie Jo from Bertha.
"This little doll is going to be the belle of the party, aren't you sweetheart?" Bertha glanced at Sammie Jo.
From out of nowhere, Jennifer and Rusty appeared next to them. "Hey there Sammie Jo, want to meet someone?" Rusty stepped up to them and took the baby into his arms.
Jennifer smiled at them and looked at Sammie Jo. "Oh, she's so precious. Is she yours?"
That question haunted Emma. By all that was holy, she was, so she answered. "Yes, this is Sammie Jo–my daughter."
"Oh, you are such a little doll. And you look just like a rodeo queen," Jennifer cooed.
"Yeah, and Uncle Rusty is gonna show you how to two-step, right now darlin'." He took Sammie Jo out onto the dance floor. He held her tight and she snuggled right into his arms. It seemed Sammie Jo couldn't resist the Travers' charm any more than Emma.
Deke had started moving toward them from his circle of friends, he was halfway there when Emma was approached by Clyde Montana.
"Come on little gal, let's dance," the man pulled on Emma's arm and started dragging her out toward the dance floor.
"Uh, no, please, I'd rather sit this one out, if you don't mind."
"Oh but I do. I insist. I've had my eye on you all night. You've been dancin' with everyone but me . . ."
"Clyde, why don't you sit this one out," Bertha called from the distance.
"Sit it out. Not on your life. I'm gonna dance . . ."
"Clyde, she doesn't want . . ." Bertha began.
"Yes she does," Clyde muttered between gritted teeth. "My ole lady is sore and I'm gonna give her somethin' to be sore about," Clyde announced too loudly.
His hand on Emma's arm was biting into the flesh now and Emma tried to squirm free, but Clyde was having none of that. He slung her almost to the floor as he whirled about, drunkenly.
"You're not setting a very good example, Clyde," Deke said not far from his ear.