by Carol Rose
Of course, it would help if he could lower his body temperature seven or eight degrees. Asking her to dance hadn't been the brightest move.
When the song was over, they ended up on the far side of the dance floor. Bret had half turned to head back to their table when the band broke into a bunny hop.
All around them couples were hooking up in choo-choo style, their feet keeping rhythm with the steps. On impulse, Bret caught Nora's hand and pulled her into the line. Not wanting anyone else's hands on her waist, he got behind her himself.
With each kick-step, kick-step, hop-hop-hop, her fanny wiggled to the music. Bret could barely keep from stumbling over his own feet. As they bunny-hopped their way across the dance floor, Nora threw back her head to look at him, laughter breaking over her beautiful face. He found himself laughing with her.
Kick-step, kick-step, hop, hop, hop. He heard her giggling as they went, her tension dissolving in the foolish dance.
Bret's feet went on auto-pilot as he tried to remember the last time he'd heard anything more arousing than her laughter.
When the music ended, they were breathless. Nora tossed back her tumbled hair and smiled up at him. "That was fun."
"You bunny hop like a pro," he teased, leading her off the dance floor.
"Years of experience," she said. "Can't you see Richard hopping around a dance floor?"
He couldn't help but chuckle at the image. Nora's smile widened. Standing at the edge of the dance floor in the noisy, smoky bar, she looked beautiful. Her face glowed with the exertion of the dance and relaxed laughter. Every hint of the cool self-possessed woman she usually was seemed to have evaporated.
Meeting her eyes, he felt a twinge of emotion he couldn't identify, something warm and gentle that centered in his chest.
"Want to play pool?" he blurted out.
"Pool?" She looked doubtfully toward the pool room. "It looks kind of crowded."
"Come on," he grabbed her hand, "we'll find a table."
The pool room seemed quiet after the band's noise. Towing Nora past the first row of tables, Bret found an open table in the back.
"You hold the table, I'll go get us set up," he told her.
'When he returned a few minutes later, he found her eyeing the game at the next table as an attractive silver-haired man lined up a shot.
Bret started racking up the balls.
"] hate to sound like a broken record," Nora said, "but I haven't played pool in a long time. I'm not sure I'll remember."
"No problem," Bret assured her. "There's only one basic rule as far as you're concerned. If you have to make any shots where you stretch over, make sure your back is to the wall."
She looked down at her brief skirt and giggled.
"I'll remember that. Now aren't we supposed to do something with the little round things on the table?"
The next half hour was grueling for Bret. How could he have thought this would be better than dancing? He'd never before realized that teaching someone to play pool could be considered a contact sport.
"Okay," he said, standing back. "Those are the basics. Take your best shot."
Nora positioned herself and sent the cue ball rolling across the table's green surface to thud into the pack. When the nine ball kept rolling and, totally by luck, fell into the far pocket, she raised her cue stick and cheered.
By some off chance, her next shot sent the three into the side pocket. This time Bret cheered.
Three shots later, they were drawing the attention of the tables around them and he was beginning to think he'd been hornswoggled.
Bret hooked his fingers in his pockets and stood watching her.
Who'd have guessed that sweet little Nora could play pool like a shark?
This game was taking on a whole new level of excitement. He couldn't help but itch to discover her other hidden talents.
******
Chapter Four
Two more balls rolled across the table, settling into pockets. By the time a third banked off the side and ended up in the corner pocket, play had stopped at the three tables around them, and a small crowd had gathered, drawn by Nora's little cries of triumph.
Bret leaned on his pool cue and glared at the woman gracefully poised over the table.
When the last ball dropped and their impromptu audience cheered, Nora straightened and turned toward him, an excited sparkle behind the too-innocent look in her eyes.
"Whew, she beat you bad," volunteered a guy from the next table, pushing back a battered cowboy hat.
Leaning his own cue against the table, Bret grasped hers and brought it up as a barrier between them. She smiled demurely, her hands bracketed between his on the cue.
"Nora Elizabeth, you lying woman," he said. "You must have played pool when you were in diapers."
Her laugh was low, a husky sound that traveled through him like a heat wave. "All I said was that I hadn't played in a long time, and that's true."
"I'd say you got hooked up with a shark," suggested the silver-haired man who'd been playing with the cowboy. He smiled at Nora. "You thinking about turning pro, ma'am?”
She smiled back, her face glowing with accomplishment. "I don't think I'm quite that good."
The man looked vaguely familiar to Bret, which wasn't surprising since the Roadhouse pulled customers from all the surrounding area.
"I have to agree with your friend," the older man said. "You play like you grew up in pool halls."
Nora laughed, shaking her head ruefully. "Thanks, but it was partly luck. I haven't touched a cue since college, and even then only played on a dusty table in the dorm basement."
"We've got such lousy players around here, like poor Wyatt," the stranger gestured toward his partner in the battered hat. "You could probably earn your livin' off them."
"Jake!" the cowboy protested. "I ain't that bad."
"Well, I'm not a pool shark," Nora jumped in. ''I'm a riding instructor. I'm setting up an equestrian academy in Stoneburg."
Bret glanced at her in surprise. She was loosening up nicely. If she kept moving in this direction, the woman wouldn't have any trouble convincing people she meant business.
"Equestrian? That's English style riding, isn't it?" the stranger asked.
"Yes." The question seemed to dim her excitement a shade. "Some people think Western is the only way to ride, but equitation and dressage are very beneficial in helping kids learn discipline and good horse care."
The older man smiled kindly at her, his humorous gaze touching Bret's for an instant. "Folks around here can get stuck in their ways. You'll probably have to put dynamite under some folks to get them to think different."
"That's not a bad idea," she agreed, smiling.
"Sounds like time to change the direction of the conversation," Bret said, taking the cue out of Nora's hands. He snagged her hand and led her around the table. "Let's dance."
"It was nice talking to you," she called out to the older man as Bret towed her toward the dance floor.
"You, too, ma'am."
"Hey, Bret!" a man called out as they made their way to the dance floor. "You gonna win the Riding Club Championship again this year?"
''I'm giving it my best shot," Bret said, not stopping.
"Let me buy you a beer," the guy offered.
"Thanks." Bret smiled. "Maybe later."
The dance floor was more crowded now, the air smokier. He cradled Nora to him, not minding the close quarters.
"The guy in the pool room was nice," she said as they danced.
"Very nice. Most people around here are," Bret reminded her. "You've got to help them get to know you."
"I grew up here," she said with asperity. "The worst of the gossips have known me since I was born."
"No," he disagreed gently as he smoothed the tumble of hair away from her cheek. "They knew the quiet Nora Hampton who lived here half the year and in Wichita Falls half the year. But you've got to help them see this Nora, the grown-up woman who wears sexy dresses a
nd plays dirty tricks on her pool partners.”
She stared up at him, her eyes struggling to see in the smoky darkness. "Ruffling people's feathers isn't a good way to start a business. I came tonight because I was mad at Principal Stewart."
"Whatever the reason," he whispered, drawing her closer against his body, ''I'm glad you're here."
Bret lowered his mouth to hers. She tasted like red silk, warm and soft and hungry, her mouth clinging to his. A bolt of piercing need shot through him. He angled his mouth over hers again, sampling her dampness, aching to taste all of her.
In his arms, she felt like every dream he'd ever had, soft against his hardness, erotically curved and pliable. He slid his hands down her back, savoring the feel of her through her flimsy dress. His fingers detected the thin restraint of her bra strap and his mind envisioned her bare breasts cupped in his hands.
Lifting away from her lips, he heard her gasp as their bodies came into full contact. He was only dimly aware of the bar full of people and the shuffling, crowded dance floor.
Nora pulled back slightly, her face soft with lingering passion, her eyes dazed. She glanced around as if only then becoming conscious of their surroundings.
"I need to leave," she gasped.
"Afternoon, ma'am." The ranch hand tipped his hat as he and Nora passed in the barn door.
"Afternoon," she responded, grateful that some people maintained their courtesy regardless of gossip. In the face of the talk about her, she'd dealt with innuendo and outright propositions from some men in town. But the hands who worked at the Maddock ranch had always been polite.
Taking off her riding helmet as she stepped into the sunny February day, Nora stopped a moment to let her eyes adjust.
It wasn't until she turned toward her car that she noticed the woman in the white Mercedes coupe. Parked next to Nora's economy car, the expensive sports car gleamed with a high polish.
The woman getting out of the Mercedes wasn't quite so highly glossed, but she had that indefinable aura of prosperity.
She didn't seem much over twenty-five, her blond hair looking natural and chic and her clothing casual.
Nora started across to her own car, curious but not wanting to stare.
"Excuse me," the woman called out.
"Yes." Nora's steps faltered.
The other woman smiled, the friendly gesture enlivening her attractive face. She came forward, offering her hand. "I'm Melanie Lockhart. Are you Nora Hampton? I'd like to talk with you about riding lessons for my daughter."
Excitement bubbled through Nora. "Oh! Of course. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lockhart." With the rock that gleamed on the woman's finger, she didn't have to guess about her marital state.
"I'm glad to meet you, too, Nora. Please call me Melanie."
"Thank you, Melanie. How old is your daughter?"
The other woman smiled. "She's eight, and she has more energy than I know what to do with."
Nora nodded. "Learning proper riding technique is an excellent way to channel high spirits."
"Sounds wonderful," Melanie said ruefully, "because I'm almost worn out from keeping up with her. Her father is the one who suggested that riding might help. I don't know if you'll remember him, but he said he saw you whip the pants off Bret Maddock at pool the other night."
Nora felt as if she'd turned to stone. "Oh. Yes. I-I did." This gorgeous woman couldn't be married to the cowboy in the battered hat, but that left only the silver-haired man. The other observers couldn't have known about her teaching riding.
"Jack was very impressed with your pool playing abilities," Melanie said humorously. "He said anyone who could handle a guy the way you handled Bret Maddock could probably make sure that Lyssa stays out of trouble."
Apparently, Jack hadn't seen the kiss on the dance floor or he might have been more concerned about the way she'd "handled Bret."
"Well," Nora managed a weak smile, ''I'll certainly do my best. How did your husband know how to find me?"
The other woman shrugged. "I guess he asked around about the riding academy." She looked around. "You're finished with lessons for the day? Or don't you give them on Mondays? I hope I'm not bothering you on your day off."
"Not at all." Nora hesitated. ''I'm really just getting the academy started."
"Of course." Melanie smiled. ''I'll pay for the first month."
"Fine." Nora's conscience stabbed her as the other woman drew out her checkbook. Jack and Melanie Lockhart were nice people. Did they know about the scandal? Surely, he'd have heard about it from whoever told him where to find her.
For weeks, all she'd wanted was to find people who didn't know about the gossip and get them to sign their children up for lessons. And here she stood about to acquire a student well able to afford a year of lessons, and she found herself battling with the sensation that she was deceiving this friendly woman.
"Mrs. Lockhart-Melanie," she blurted out. "I think you should know that part of the reason I don't have more students is that there's been some...talk...about me in Stoneburg. "
The other woman looked up from the check she was writing, a faint smile on her face. "Really? Did you rob a bank?"
"No! Nothing like that," Nora gasped. "My former fiancé claims I was unfaithful-"
"Oh, that kind of talk." Melanie handed her the check.
"Nora, I'm married to a rich man who's twenty-four years older than me. Gossip no longer scares me."
"Uh, thank you." Embarrassed, Nora took the check.
"I tell you what," Melanie suggested. "If you won't believe that I married Jack for his money, I won't believe whatever your fiancé says about you."
Nora smiled tremulously. "Thanks."
After agreeing on lesson times, Nora watched the woman get in her car. Still in shock from the turn of events, she could hardly believe her luck. Even with the check in her hand.
The Mercedes backed out and headed down the drive, passing Bret's truck as he pulled up to the gravel area outside the barn.
Nora watched the white car disappear. If she hadn't gone to the Roadhouse with Bret, she'd never have met Jack Lockhart.
Maybe defiance had its reward after all.
"Who was that?" Bret slammed the truck door.
Nora turned, a silly grin taking over her face. "The mother of my newest student," she declared saucily, "and the wife of our friendly pool-playing stranger."
"Really?" Bret looked down the road.
"Yes. He was Jack Lockhart. Do you know him?"
"I know of him," Bret admitted. “I thought he looked familiar the other night."
"I didn't recognize him at all and I have no idea what made him decide on riding lessons for his daughter, but I'm deeply grateful." She carefully tucked the check in her pocket.
"From what I've heard, Lockhart moves in big money social circles, but he's a down-home kind of guy. I bet you'll be getting referrals from other socialite mothers who want a classy activity for their kids," Bret predicted with a smirk.
"I hope so," Nora said. "I know you think English riding is only useful for social climbing. Go ahead and sneer. I don't care. This is my first real break and I'm thrilled."
"I never said it wasn't useful," he said. "If nothing else, you brighten the scenery in those riding pants. I'm just not sure that your average Texan is gonna sign up."
"Then I'll have to attract above-average Texans," she retorted, turning toward the barn.
"An excellent plan," Bret agreed, falling into step with her. "Say, how about, we take a celebratory ride to mark the occasion of your first big break?"
Nora glanced at him. "Don't you ever work?"
"Of course," his voice was wounded, "come spring round up, I'll be so busy directing men that you'll hardly ever see me."
''I'll believe it when I don't see you."
"So how about the ride?" he pushed.
She looked at him. The urge to go and wallow in his presence felt almost like a physical need. Although he presented a risk to her peace of m
ind, her feelings about him were changing. Not only did she feel the edginess of her attraction, she also felt, at some basic level, peculiarly safe. A feeling of rightness settled over her spirit whenever he was near.
Why not go riding? temptation whispered in her ear. Nothing bad happened after the last time you went with him.
"I don't know," she said. "I've been wondering since the other night if being seen with you is damaging for my reputation."
"How can you say that, woman?" His eyes danced in contrast to the shock on his face. ''I'm the reason your luck has turned."
"Maybe so," she conceded. "And maybe the gossips are burning me in effigy. I haven't really gone anywhere over the weekend to see if I’m even allowed in town."
"Naw." Bret hooked an arm around her shoulders. "You're home free now. Just stick with me."
Nora laughed. "Jumping from the frying pan into the fire."
"Yeah." His arm tightened around her. "But fire can be so nice and hot. Come ride with me.”
"Well," she weakened, battling her own urges and the exhilaration of his nearness, "maybe for a short ride."
Nora's heart fluttered ,while she saddled Chessie. Hearing Bret whistling as he readied his horse, she decided to go with the moment. Just this once, she'd let herself revel in a golden afternoon with the man of her fantasies by her side.
They were unlikely to be seen and if they were, it couldn't do much more damage to her wary heart. As long as she remembered that fantasies had their place, she'd be fine.
Leading the horses out of the barn, they mounted up and rode down a hard-packed dirt road that wound beside the ranch house and then away into pasture land.
Last week's blue norther had drifted to the south, leaving them with pale blue skies and sun-warmed earth.
"Steady, boy." Bret held his impatient mount with a firm hand.
“I guess you haven't taken General out for a run lately," Nora commented. "He's full of energy."
"He had a good gallop yesterday. He just tests me every now and then," Bret replied as the horse settled down. "So, are you ready to go dancing with me again? Give me a chance for a rematch at pool when I'm not in a state of shock?"
A giggle escaped Nora. Never had she hoped to use her innocently-acquired ability to such good. ''I'm sure you could beat me if you were prepared," she said demurely.