An Act of Love

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An Act of Love Page 14

by Marion Ekholm


  Immediately, Dennis put a hand on Marley’s arm. “Don’t worry. He was only acting. Put on a good show, too, and we got kicked out.”

  When it appeared that Dennis planned to continue, Brant waved dismissively and directed Marley to the dance floor. “So, does he know you’re an actor?” Marley asked, placing an arm around Brant’s shoulder. They were well into the dance before he answered.

  “I didn’t tell him.” Brant wrapped both arms around her waist and drew her close. “You have any particular reason for hating actors? For the most part, despite the paparazzi propaganda, we’re a pretty nice lot. In fact, I know more people in accounts receivable who belong behind bars than I know actors who do.”

  Marley chuckled and placed her arms around his neck. “Touché.” They glided on the ballroom floor for several minutes, and Marley marveled at how well he danced. He made it seem effortless, something few men of her acquaintance were capable of doing. “You’re the only actor I know, and I’m getting an entirely new perspective. I’m really beginning to like actors,” she whispered next to his ear.

  “I only want you to like one,” he whispered back and kissed her ear. “You’re a wonderful dance partner. Is it natural or learned?”

  “I taught ballroom dancing while in college. One of the many hats I wore to help pay for my schooling.”

  “But didn’t your family help?”

  “Except for child support, my father was out of the picture, and I would never have considered asking him for anything. Mom was supporting the family with her catering business, and Poppy was dealing with Nana’s sickness. He had a mountain of bills when she died.”

  “Dancing paid your tuition?”

  “No, only contributed to it. I managed to get some scholarships and student loans. What about you? Yale has to be expensive.”

  “You know that ranch I mentioned?” Marley nodded. “Long before my family ever went into ranching, my great grandfather discovered gold on our property.” He shrugged. “I never had to worry about tuition.”

  Before Marley could comment, her grandfather tapped Brant’s shoulder.

  “May I have this dance?” he asked Marley. With a nod, Brant stepped away, giving her hand to Poppy.

  As they moved around the floor, Poppy said, “I approve. Not that you’d care one way or the other, but I think he’s good for the long haul.”

  “Thanks, Poppy.” She placed a kiss on his withered cheek.

  Michelle joined Marley and wanted a dance with her. As they circled the floor, Brant came over. “Why are you two beautiful ladies dancing by yourselves?” He picked Michelle up and held her with one arm while he grasped Marley with the other. He stopped. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting this young lady. What’s your name?”

  “Michelle.”

  “And who do you belong to?”

  “Aunt Marley.”

  Brant turned to Marley. “Sounds like you’ve got an admirer.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” Michelle glowed as she looked at Brant with total admiration. “I think this little princess just zeroed in on her prince.”

  For a fraction of a moment, Brant eyed Michelle with concern; then he switched back to his devastating smile. Boy, he could turn that admiring look on anyone. Michelle appeared enchanted.

  “Aunt Marley, do you mind if I take the princess for a spin?” And he was off, in perfect step with the music, leaving Marley on the sidelines.

  Chloe approached her. “I’m going to leave, but I’d hate to spoil it for Michelle. She’s quite smitten with Brant. Could you watch her the rest of tonight? I need to rest so I can participate in the wedding.”

  Marley hesitated. She didn’t want more pressure on Chloe. She’d never forgive herself if Chloe lost this baby. “Of course. No problem.” She’d take Michelle over to her mother’s and work out something there. Maybe the camping equipment she’d used the night before.

  “I’ll have Al get some of her things from home and drop them in your car. Thanks.” Chloe hugged her sister and said softly, “Don’t squeeze too hard. I’m having a really hard time keeping my food down tonight.”

  For pretty much the rest of the night Michelle stayed with Marley or played with her cousins. Brant danced with all of Marley’s sisters, and Marley had a chance to partner with all her brothers-in-law. Although dodging their feet was difficult because they put plenty of exuberance into their dancing, she felt happy that her sisters had found these men. Even her father had one dance with her before Richard came over.

  “May I?”

  “Of course.” She felt relieved to be with someone else, since she found it so hard to talk to her father.

  As Richard drew her into his arms, he said, “I remember when we met. You were teaching dance, and I made it a point to take up as much of your time as possible.”

  “I did a good job. You’re definitely one of the better dancers here.”

  “Not as good as twinkle toes, though.”

  When the band began a song with a Latin beat, he hesitated, and Brant cut in.

  “You mind, Richard? I’d like to dance with my fiancée.”

  Thankfully, Richard backed away.

  “You’re one of the few people here who can actually follow this music,” Brant said. “I’ll have to introduce you to my dance classes. You’ll really enjoy them.”

  How wonderful, she thought, a man who knew what he should do with his dance partner. Was it because he’d been taught or was it something that came naturally? When they finished the dance, people clapped, and she noticed for the first time they were the center of attention.

  Marley gripped Brant’s arm. “Chloe isn’t feeling well, and I’m taking care of Michelle. She’ll be sleeping with me at my mother’s.”

  He broke into a slow grin. “She’ll be sleeping with you at the motel. Two beds, remember?” He zeroed in on the men in the band leaving the stage. “I’ve got plans, and they include both of you staying at the motel.”

  “What kind of plans?” she asked warily.

  He came closer and whispered, “I plan to charm you with what we discussed about music.”

  Panic. She felt it immediately. “No, Brant. I want to stay at my mother’s.”

  “Where would you sleep?”

  “We’ll camp. I can use the same stuff I used last night, and we can sleep on the floor in Lindy’s room.”

  Without commenting, Brant reached for his wallet and went over to one of the guitar players.

  How could she make him understand her sister’s well-being was more important than continuing their discussion of music?

  Marley recognized the two men were speaking Spanish, but she was too far away to hear exactly what was being said. How had Brant managed to find a Latino east of the Allegany? He gave the man a bill and took the guitar. The man looked her way and smiled.

  Brant moved in front of the stage, threw the strap over his shoulder and began to strum. Marley, who had begun a conversation with Lindy, stopped. Something close to fear gripped her for a moment but subsided as she began to enjoy the music. Michelle walked over to her, and one of the men offered Marley a chair. She sat down, cradling Michelle in her arms.

  “Some things don’t come easy,” Brant began as he strolled over to her. She recognized the song from one of her favorite albums by England Dan and John Ford Coley, one that she often played while strumming her guitar. Was this one of the songs he’d heard her play?

  Michelle turned around in her arms and looked at Marley. “He’s singing to us.”

  “That he is.” Did Marley have the same glow as Michelle? “And he’s good, too,” she whispered against her niece’s ear. The girl’s soft blond curls tickled her check, and she patted them in place. If the glow wasn’t on Marley’s face, it certainly was in her insides, turning the
m to mush. If this is what he planned as charming her by music, it was working.

  Michelle squirmed on her aunt’s lap, keeping time with the music.

  He sang another, “Baby, I’m-A Want You,” a romantic love song that she recognized from the group Bread. So he was as familiar with music from the 1970s as she was. All this time he focused on her as though she were the only person in the room. She found it difficult to take a full breath. As he sang, a connection she’d never considered possible began to grow. Who would have thought only days before that Brant Westfield could totally turn her life upside down?

  Someone behind Marley said, “Wow, I wish my guy could sing like that.”

  When Brant was through, he walked closer to Marley. As people around them clapped, he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. “Next time we play together,” he said. “I’ve got to return this.” He took her hand, pulled her from the seat and headed over to the bandstand with Michelle holding her other hand.

  Even though the person who had loaned him the guitar spoke in rapid Spanish, Marley had no trouble understanding it. After thanks on both their parts, the men shook hands. When the dancing began again, Brant picked up Michelle and spoke to Marley. “He asked me—” Brant started, but Marley interrupted and repeated the conversation in Spanish.

  Brant’s jaw dropped. “Lady,” he said, pulling her tight with his other arm, “never stop surprising me.”

  “I told you I learned Spanish.” The man had asked Brant to join their group for another song. “Why don’t you? I enjoy listening to you.”

  “Will you play, too? I’m sure they have extra guitars.”

  She felt the color drain from her face. “No. I—”

  “I know. You have to have everything laid out, carved in stone before you’ll take a chance.”

  “Are you saying I have no spontaneity?”

  He nodded. “I calls them the ways I—”

  “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  With an ear-to-ear grin, still holding Michelle, Brant elbowed his way through the crowded dance floor. After a short discussion, Brant placed Michelle on the stage and lifted Marley to stand next to her. Marley and Brant took the offered guitars.

  “You okay?” he asked Marley.

  “I’ll manage.”

  “She’ll do fine. Won’t she, Michelle?”

  Michelle nodded and glanced shyly around, pressing her body against Marley’s leg.

  “You know this. I’ve heard you playing it many times.” He announced to the band, “La Bamba,” and Marley and Brant began playing the traditional Mexican wedding song. It was one Marley had hoped to play for her sister’s wedding, so she was very familiar with it. Obviously, so was Brant because he sang the Spanish words with decisiveness, in perfect harmony with the other man in the band.

  The audience was transfixed. Marley managed to keep up with Brant and found it exhilarating. They played several more tunes until their bridal party began to disperse.

  The three of them got off the stage to applause as the adults gathered their children. Michelle continued to stick close to Marley, although she never let Brant out of her sight. The oldest grandchild, Matthew, who was ten, approached Brant. “I know who you are,” he said. “You’re Comoto.”

  Brant glanced at Marley and Michelle, then went down on one knee so that he was closer to Matthew’s height. “How’d you figure that out?”

  “I’ve got the DVD. Watch it all the time.”

  Brant stood up and ruffled the boy’s hair. “No kidding. You enjoy it?”

  “Sure. I’m going to be a komodo dragon this Halloween.”

  “Good for you,” Brant said, and the boy took off. Brant pressed his lips together and glanced in every direction except at Marley. When he did look at her, he sighed. “I was the voice of the komodo dragon, Comoto, in the movie.”

  “Should I be looking you up on Google?”

  “Please don’t,” he said, wrapping her in his arms. “I’ve made so much progress with you so far, and I don’t want it all ruined.” He released her and headed for the band. “I’ll be back in a moment.” When he returned, he carried two guitars by their necks.

  “I borrowed these. We’ll finally have a chance to play together alone.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  MICHELLE’S FATHER, AL, who was six-five, the tallest of all her brothers-in-law, met them at Marley’s car. “Here’re all her clothes and car seat. We really appreciate this. All the stress from this wedding has both of us worried.” Al picked up Michelle and hugged her before placing her in the car seat in the backseat of Marley’s car. “You be good for Aunt Marley.” After he straightened, Al pulled Marley into a big hug. “Thanks.” He kissed her forehead before stepping away.

  Although Brant didn’t say anything, he had a questioning expression. Al turned to him and shook his hand. “We’ve only told Marley. Chloe’s pregnant, and she needs her rest.” Brant nodded.

  With the guitars stored safely in the backseat, Marley drove Brant to the motel. Michelle amused herself by singing music only she understood.

  “How come you didn’t get all out of shape with Al when he hugged and kissed me?”

  “You think I’m crazy? He’s bigger than me. Probably could take on a sumo wrestler with ease.” Brant reached over and moved her hair away from her face, momentarily caressing her cheek with his thumb. “Besides. There’s nothing going on between you two.” After a short pause, he asked, “Why are they worried?”

  Before answering, Marley glanced at Michelle. The little girl had fallen asleep, so Marley felt safe in discussing the details with Brant. “Chloe had a miscarriage two years ago in the early stages. She won’t tell anyone she’s pregnant until she begins to show.” Fearful, Marley took in a deep breath. “Chloe doesn’t want to deal with all of us...you know, feeling sorry for her if she loses this one.” Marley pressed her lips together. “I hope and pray she’s able to...”

  Brant placed his hand on hers and entwined their fingers. “Me, too.” He glanced around at Michelle. “She deserves a sister or brother.” When he looked back at Marley, he asked, “Why do you get the honor of watching her?”

  “Does it bother you? I mean—”

  “No, of course not. She’s an absolute delight.”

  “You know, she adores you.”

  “All little girls do.”

  “Brant, you have the biggest ego.” She took a quick look over at him and realized he was teasing.

  “Why you? How come you’re watching Michelle when there’s a grandmother and four other sisters? Is this another thing put on you because you’re the oldest?”

  “Chloe is the closest to me in age, and I’ve always had a special bond with Michelle. And Al. He and I used to date before Chloe got her claws into him.” She chuckled. “But you’re right. There’s nothing between us now but friendship.”

  When they reached the motel, Brant said, “Come in for a moment.” He retrieved both guitars from the backseat. “I need to show you a problem I’m having with my tux.” When she didn’t move from behind the wheel, he added, “It’s okay. You’re safe. Besides, it won’t take long. And you left all your stuff inside.”

  He headed for the room without looking back.

  For several moments, she just sat there. Marley checked on her niece, who was still asleep, and debated what she should do. It wouldn’t take long, he promised and if he had a genuine problem.... With a sigh of resignation, Marley gently removed Michelle from the car seat and carried her to the motel door that remained ajar.

  “I couldn’t leave her in the car,” she said as she walked into the room.

  “Of course not.” Brant took Michelle from her arms and placed her on the overstuffed chair. He still wore his western shirt, but had changed into the black pants that belonged to his
tux. He held out his arms and asked, “What do you think?” Shocked, she took a gulp of air and placed her hand over her mouth.

  “I can drop them,” he said, lowering the waist below his butt and exposing his boxers, “the way the juvenile delinquents do in Phoenix. Or I can wear my boots, which come right to the cuffs. Of course, when I sit, the pants hike up to my knees.” His expression remained serious. “Any suggestions?”

  She walked over to him. “The bride should get all the attention, not the best man and his blue butt.” She took out her cell phone. “I’ll give Denny a call—”

  Brant placed a hand over her phone. “Don’t. I’ve already discussed it with him. These pants probably belong to one of the other men.”

  “You’re kidding. I don’t know anyone in the group who’s that short.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll trade tomorrow.”

  Marley clicked off the phone and put it back in her pocket. “So you didn’t need my opinion?”

  “Not about that.” His expression remained neutral. “You surprised me tonight, several times, in fact.”

  “How?”

  “The way you dance.” He took her into the dance position he’d used earlier that night, both arms circling her waist. “I usually step on my partner’s feet at least once but you—you made it look as though I really knew what I was doing.”

  “You did know.” She placed her arms around his shoulders. “Take it from someone who appreciates a good partner.”

  “Oh, Marley,” he said, hugging her close. “There’s so much I need to learn about you.” He kissed her cheek. “Stay here tonight. You and Michelle can have one bed, and I’ll take the other.” When she hesitated, he said, “Or you can have both, and I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

  “No.” Marley pushed out of the embrace and started for her niece before her resolve disintegrated. She was about to pick her up when Brant began strumming a riff on the acoustical guitar.

  “You know you want to.” He played several more bars. “Admit it. Tonight was the best night you had in a long time. I know it was for me.” He walked over to her, still fingering the frets while he strummed. “And it doesn’t have to end.”

 

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