Beneath the Heavens

by Barlow, Lindsey;

  “There’s the schoolhouse. I’m surprised we made it back in time,” she laughed, arching her back slightly like a cat. She turned to Joseph, “Thank you. I know I was reluctant, but I do appreciate you coming with me.”

  Joseph nodded. “My pleasure, Miss Esther, and don’t forget I will be coming with you every morning,” and I will love you always.

  Fourteen

  Esther stared at the red dress. It was by far the best sewing she had ever done, and the fabric still took her breath away. Still, should she wear it tonight to the dance in front of everyone—in front of Joseph? Tonight, she felt unusually self-conscious about how she would look in front of others, but mostly how she would look in front of Joseph. The thought of him being pleased with her appearance made her blush and also scared her. She didn’t want him to fall for her any more than he had done. Maybe she was enjoying his attention, but she did not want to toy with him. She didn’t want to be cruel.

  Biting her bottom lip with conflicted intensity, Esther finally flung off her calico dress and put on the red one. After all, she had promised her aunt, and it would not hurt to see how it looked on her with her hair done up and her lips and cheeks rosy. She would wear the ruby-drop earrings her uncle had given her for a birthday. The shimmery satin fabric slid over her slender body like poppy petals. She buttoned the back, put on her shoes and earrings and looked in the mirror. Her own appearance surprised her. True, she usually made an effort to look pretty, but now she looked—

  “Wow!” Michael exclaimed as he walked into her room. “Momma, you look beautiful. You’re like a princess from a story book.”

  Esther grinned lovingly at her son. “Thank you, handsome, but I think I may change. This dress is a bit too fancy.”

  Michael looked at her like she was crazy. “But you have to wear it. You look beautiful!!” he exclaimed.

  Esther looked back in the mirror. She took two of the small red roses from a vase on her vanity and placed them gently in her hair, which she had done up in soft silky curls. Maybe she would wear it. What harm would it do?

  Nodding to herself with courage, she turned to face Michael. The boy stood proudly in his shiny boots, his crisp white shirt tucked into his leather belt with his worn, gaudy belt buckle and his new hat that barely covered the rebellious curls sneaking out from underneath. He looked both handsome and adorable. Esther held out her arm.

  “Would you be so kind, sir, as to accompany me to the dance?” she asked in a mock proper voice.

  The two laughed and Michael rushed over taking her arm, “I love you, Momma.”

  Esther pulled him close. “I love you, too.”

  /

  Abby could hardly contain her excitement as she and Joseph pulled up to the dance. There was an abundance of pumpkins, painted squashes, strings of autumn leaves, brightly-colored lanterns, and jars holding candles. It looked like a fairy dance, beautiful and festive. She was already in a good mood and felt especially lovely.

  After Joseph had settled down his horse and tied him to the hitching post, he and Abby walked together into the dance. Joseph felt the eyes of a dozen women flicker at him. Abby noticed it, too, and she gave Joseph a small nudge. “Well, big brother, if Esther doesn’t work out, there are plenty of other women who I believe would be more than happy to take her place,” she giggled, and then stopped short when she saw Will with Rachel. Goodness he looked handsome, and Rachel, much to Abby’s despair, looked rather pretty.

  You don’t need him to enjoy yourself, Abby reminded herself. You’re an independent woman.

  “Speaking of Esther, do you see her or Michael? I see her uncle and his wife talking to Sheriff Ben, but I don’t see Esther.”

  “She’s probably coming along with Michael. I’m sure she will be here any minute,” Abby reasoned, scanning the dance for young men to talk to. Her eyes fell on Harry, Kyle Lampton’s nephew; he was a nice boy, handsome and shy. “Excuse me, Joseph,” Abby fluffed up her hair and pinched her cheeks.

  The Mayor suddenly stood up on a stack of hay bales, ringing a bell for attention. He was a little man with thick glasses and a kind, intelligent face. By him stood his short, plump wife who looked up at him with pride.

  “Alright folks, we welcome you tonight for our annual barn dance hosted by our very own Sean Pennsworth.” He nodded to a ruddy-looking rancher who blushed when everyone cheered. “Now, we have dancing and then in an hour we will break for our picnic auction and some dinner generously put together by the good women of Tall Pine.” Another cheer. “And then we will resume our dancing until Sheriff Ben is ready to arrest us all.” The Mayor rang the bell again and everybody laughed.

  Joseph chuckled as Sheriff Ben held up handcuffs to the crowd threateningly. A fiddle and guitar began to play in unison and people lined up to dance. Joseph sighed, wondering if Esther was even going to come. He started to make his way toward Ben when he saw several heads turn in one direction. Joseph followed the spectators’ gaze, and his jaw dropped.

  Esther had arrived wearing an intoxicating red dress that emphasized her slender, curvaceous figure. Her proud shoulders were bare of any shawl, and her eyes sparkled. Joseph rushed forward. Esther would be his tonight, and he pitied any man who thought otherwise.

  /

  Abby gave a whoop along with all the other women dancing. She usually did not do vigorous dancing such as this, but goodness it was fun. Her skin was hot, refreshing after the chilly days of late, and she loved the sense of camaraderie she was now feeling among the people of Tall Pine. Harry, as it turned out, was a good dancer, and stronger than his thin body looked. He easily spun her, lifted her, and all in all was an excellent partner. After Harry she talked to Spencer who asked her for a dance; he was not as good as Harry, but Abby was surprised how good-looking he was. He had such a nice smile. How come she had not noticed before? So enthralled with her enjoyment, Abby hardly noticed Will who, despite being kind to Rachel, was glowering at Abby. She certainly seemed to be enjoying herself and Will felt like a boiling teakettle about to explode. Men’s gazes were lingering on her lithe form, talking about the lovely schoolteacher. She did look especially nice in the silvery-gray dress that highlighted her eyes and fairy-like features. And, she seemed especially popular with the young men, which enraged Will.

  Rachel finally huffed and folded her arms, “If you are gonna stare at her all night then I best be leaving, huh?” she asked with a scrunched-up nose.

  Will shook his head. First and foremost he was a pastor, and a pastor was supposed to be kind. He held out his arm to Rachel, “Shall we dance the next one?” he asked with a smile, knowing full well from the musical introduction that the next dance would be one of switching partners.

  Abby stiffened when she saw Will come onto the dance floor with Rachel. Were pastors even supposed to dance? It didn’t matter. She was enjoying herself, and though she loved Will, he had not asked her to the dance, and she need not sit on the bench and wait pityingly for him.

  The dance began and Abby tried to keep her focus on the music, smiling gaily with Spencer when he spun her around, but this was a complicated dance where one switched partners every few seconds. Soon Abby was spun around to another man and then another. She knew she was coming closer to Will. When she finally reached him, his arms clasped around hers like a vice making her wince.

  “What are you doing?” Will hissed at her.

  Of all the nerve. “Excuse me, Pastor? What in heaven’s name do you mean?”

  The two linked arms and skipped in a circle before Will pulled her to him, closer than the dance allowed. Firecrackers went off through Abby’s chest as her torso was pressed against Will’s.

  “Dancing with all these different boys.”

  “Young men,” Abby corrected, “and why can’t I dance with different men? I’m not tied to anyone,” she said with a mischievous smile before being whisked off to the next partner.

  Will practically tripped over the older woman in front of him, as he was still looki
ng at Abby. He apologized to Lucinda Hampton, Sheriff Ben’s wife.

  “I’d be stuttering, too, if I were a young man,” she laughed with a knowing glance at Abby. “She’s an awfully lovely woman.”

  Will smiled politely. Abby was not merely lovely. She was bewitching, enchanting. How could he not have fallen for her the moment he saw her? Why had he been so stubborn? What if he was too late?

  Rachel returned to him as his partner. He noticed her eyeing Spencer with Abby, and she looked perturbed. Will clenched his fists when he saw Spencer kiss Abigail’s hand and heard her giggled response. He may not have taken Abigail to the dance, but he sure wanted to be the one driving her home.

  Esther had barely sat down, letting Michael run off to where several games for children were being hosted, before a shadow fell over her. She looked up to see Joseph. He was especially handsome tonight with his longish hair combed back and his face clean-shaven.

  “Is that another gift from an Indian?” she asked, motioning to his bolo tie with a miniature carved cattle skull.

  Joseph looked down at it and grinned. “Would you believe me if I said it was?”

  Esther laughed and shook her head. “Probably not.”

  Joseph shrugged, defeated. “The bracelet and buckle are all I have from them besides a few close friendships. Sadly, even the friendships don’t always last since they’re being moved around,” he said grimly.

  “Our country doesn’t treat them as we should, do we?” she agreed.

  Joseph gave a curt nod, his hand stretched and then tightened. “Miss Esther, would you give me one of your disapproving stares if I told you that you look incredibly beautiful tonight?”

  Esther smiled, meeting his gaze unabashedly. “Even if I disapproved, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy the compliment.”

  “And would you refuse me if I were to ask you for a dance?”

  Esther blanched and looked away. The dancers looked like a rainbow of colors, and the air held an intoxicating smell of pumpkin pies and pork roasting on the spit. All in all, the atmosphere should have induced her to dance, but dance meant touch, close touch. She didn’t think she could do it.

  “I’m sorry Joseph, but I don’t dance. However, there are many young ladies here who I know would love to dance with you.”

  “There are other ladies here?” he asked, blinking as if he had not noticed.

  Esther’s cheeks flamed. The man was incredibly charming.

  “Sorry, I can’t dance.”

  “Can’t? Or won’t?” Joseph asked persistently.

  Esther’s smiled faded. “Does it make a difference?” She really didn’t want him to ask any more.

  Joseph sighed and sat down on the bench. “Well, Esther,” he was past using Miss, “you leave me no choice.”

  Esther frowned. “To do what?”

  “I have formulated a list in my head as to why you have to dance with me. Let’s just say I came prepared.” He cleared his throat. “I bought your son boots, and a hat; I taught him how to ride without breaking his neck. I have accompanied you for a whole week on your calls. I fixed your wagon, and I plan on doing whatever it takes to get you on the dance floor.”

  So eager was Joseph’s mischievous grin that Esther could only shake her head with a laugh. “You’re blackmailing me! Goodness, and I thought your intentions were pure,” she teased.

  Joseph stood up and held out his hand. “They were and are, but let’s just say that I don’t let important opportunities pass me by.” He held out his hand, again.

  Esther stared at the hand for several seconds. It was large, calloused, and had experience written all over it. She could see where the skin was roughened by the long days of riding. He was right. He had been very kind to her and Michael. Surely she could swallow her fears and her anxieties for one dance.

  Lord, give me strength. She placed her hand in his, feelings his fingers hungrily clasp around hers.

  Joseph smiled gently, his eyes filling with triumph as he led her out. Esther could feel every one gaping at her and Joseph, whispering to each other. It was common knowledge that Esther danced with no one, and here she was holding hands with a Texan.

  Why did I have to wear red? she moaned to herself.

  The music began and Joseph twirled Esther in front of him. She laughed nervously, feeling awkward. It had been so long since she had done anything like this. Thankfully, this was not a slow dance but a lively one. She need not touch him often. In a heartbeat, Esther was clapping and stomping along with the other women. The men followed and then joined hands forming a bridge for couples to dance under. The laughter and music had a magical quality. Esther found herself feeling energized and having fun. Some of the couples tripped or did funny things as they paraded under the human bridge. When Joseph took her hand, he lifted her by the waist, sending an unexpected jolt through her as he spun her in the air before setting her down so they could skip to the end.

  She knew he was trying to make eye contact, to see if she were mad, upset, or pleased. Esther would not look at him, focusing on the following couples. Truth was, when he had held her waist she felt something strong: it could have easily been anxiety, and yet she was not shaking.

  The dance ended and everyone applauded. Esther gave Joseph a grateful nod.

  “Thank you, I enjoyed that. It has been so long since I’ve danced.” She did an awkward curtsy and began to walk away. Joseph grabbed her wrist as a slow dance began to play.

  “One more?” he asked.

  Esther swallowed. Not a slow dance! Before she could shake her head Joseph had stepped close to her, taking her right hand in his left, and placing his right hand on her lower back. Hesitantly, Esther placed her left hand on his broad shoulder, feeling the involuntary flex of his muscle. She exhaled slowly, unable to look at him as she concentrated on keeping her breath steady.

  They began to move in unison, slowly for a minute before Joseph gently pulled her closer. The satin of her dress rustled against his crisp shirt, his head above hers was close enough to feel his breath. Her ears pounded with her own heartbeat, and she began to tremble, but not out of fear. No, she felt far from fearful. Her skin began to prickle, tiny bumps running over her smooth arms. Her whole body, starved of physical affection, yearned to be closer to him. It needed more, more of being held by this strong man, more caresses, more skin, more everything. Esther wanted to break away. She was not used to these feelings; she had never had them, or if she had, she could not remember. It worried her and yet elated her. Hardly knowing if she were responding to the feeling in her soul or her touch-starved body, Esther allowed herself to be pulled closer, her chin brushing his arm, her lips close to his scarred collar bone.

  Joseph’s hand on her back tensed, pressing deeper into her skin, his breathing quickened, and he clasped her own hand tighter, placing it on his chest. He wanted to speak, but he was afraid if he did it would shatter the moment. He wanted to hold her forever. He wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her. He needed her to need him.

  The music stopped and for one more breath Joseph held Esther before she pulled away. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted in confusion.

  “I—” she stuttered, “I need to go check on Michael,” she said before turning like a frightened doe and disappearing into the crowd.

  /

  Will left Rachel chatting with some of her friends; he had pulled Spencer aside when he was left alone after Abigail had been asked to dance by another cursed young man. Through careful manipulation that Will was not proud of, he had convinced Spencer to take Rachel home at the end of the dance, explaining that he needed to do a pastoral visit to someone after the dance. Spencer had agreed and actually looked excited about it. Rachel herself did not seem too disappointed and began asking her friends what they knew about the handsome cobbler.

  Will found Abby talking with Eliza who looked unusually lovely. Her hair was done up, and she wore a pink dress that brought color to her face. Next to her was the giant
Kyle Lampton who seemed unable to go a moment without touching her hands, wrist, fingers—anything that he could properly touch in public.

  “So you would not mind playing the piano? I thought it would be so much fun to have lots of music interspersed in the play,” Abby said, her eyes bright.

  “I think it’s a great idea. Let me go through some of my music to see what songs would work with a Thanksgiving theme.”

  Abby clapped her hands. “Oh, that would be wonderful, and Mr. Lampton, you don’t mind making pies and cookies, do you? Yours are the best and I don’t want to tax the mothers too much with Thanksgiving and Christmas coming up and all.”

  Kyle chuckled in his Saint Nicolas way. “I’d be offended if you didn’t ask me. Besides, I’ll take any excuse to work with this lovely lady here.” He nodded at Eliza who gave him a “you are crazy” look. “Count me in.”

  Abigail was about to reply when Will somewhat rudely stepped, in placing his hand on her back. “Miss Eliza, Kyle,” he nodded curtly, “would you excuse Miss Abigail for a moment? I need to speak with her.”

  Abby smiled apologetically and allowed herself to be led away.

  “I was discussing the play,” she explained with annoyance. “You could have waited for me to finish.”

  Will said nothing, leading her out behind the wagons where they were out of sight and hearing.

  “Why are you taking me back here?”

  Will spun her to face him. “I just want to know why you are behaving in such a ridiculous manner. I am the pastor of Tall Pine and it is my job to oversee the school, and to make sure the teacher is acting proper.”

  “Proper?!” Abby exclaimed, her face turning red with anger. “You dare suggest that I am not behaving properly when you allow ‘Ravishing Rachel’ to drape herself all over you? When you rudely interrupt a conversation to lead me away secretly behind the wagons? Proper my foot! Pastor or no Pastor, what right do you have to tell me how to behave? I don’t need your permission or approval.”