by Kris Kendall
~***~
By the time they got to the gathering, most of the food was gone. Channie wasn’t surprised. Most folks’ pantries were bare by the end of winter. You came to Spring Gathering for the games, music and dancing, not the food.
Momma gave orders as she spread their quilt out next to Old Pappy and Aunt Wisdom. “I expect everyone to stay in the clearing. Don’t go wandering off into the woods. Abby, don’t let them babies outta your sight for one second, you hear me, girl?”
Abby rolled her eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Channie, take the food to the community table and if you see so much as a single fly, recharge the bug-be-gone spells.”
“For the whole table?” The darn thing was made out of heavy cedar planks and spanned the north end of the clearing. If she protected the entire table, not only would it drain most of her magic, it’d leave her too tired for dancing.
Momma raised her eyebrows and put her hands on her hips. “You got a problem with that?”
“No, ma’am.” Channie waited until she was out of range then cast a bug-be-gone spell on herself. She kept her gaze lowered to the ground to be sure she didn’t see any damn flies.
A line formed behind Channie as she wove her way through the crowd.
Momma fed the family biscuits and gravy before they left so Channie wasn’t hungry. She set Momma’s squirrel casserole on the table and scooted it to the side so the folks behind her could dig in. But she hovered over the apricot pie and scanned the crowd, looking for Hunter.
The pie would be gone in a matter of seconds, so she cut a piece and put it on her plate. Her mouth watered but this piece was for Hunter. Where the hell was he?
Hunter’s daddy waved her over. “I’ll give you a catfish for that there piece of pie.”
“Sorry, it’s spoken for.” Channie ducked her head to hide the blush heating her cheeks.
Mr. Feenie rubbed his chin and smirked at her. “You wouldn’t be planning to waste that on one of my boys, now would you?”
“Uh …”
He laughed and patted her back then pointed towards a crowd of young men. “They’re all over yonder, watching Hunter and Shep arm wrestle.”
Channie’s face went from warm to hot. “Thank you, sir.”
Hunter had looked mighty good when they met in the middle of the night under the sycamore tree. He looked even better in broad daylight.
At the last gathering, Hunter’s hand-me-down dress shirt had hung off his shoulders and covered all but the tips of his fingers. Now, it strained across the muscles of his upper body. The cuffs ended a good three inches above his wrists.
Shep was eleven months older than Hunter, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at the two boys. Shep scrunched his face into a grimace and ground his teeth. His whole body trembled.
Veins stood out on the backs of Hunter’s hand, but his arm didn’t so much as twitch. A smattering of fine blond hair dusted his upper lip and sparkled in the sunlight. He grinned at the crowd, obviously enjoying all the attention.
When his gaze met Channie’s, she lifted the plate to show him the pie, and mouthed, “For you.”
Shep slammed Hunter’s arm onto the stump they were using as a table then raised his fists over his head with a shout of triumph.
Hunter grabbed Shep’s arm. “I was distracted by Channie’s pie. I wanna rematch.”
Shep laughed and shook his head. “I’m gonna go get me a piece before it’s all gone.”
“Too late.” Channie had just come from the table. “This is the last piece and I got it for Hunter.”
Shep elbowed Hunter out of the way and reached for the plate. “To the victor go the spoils.”
“You don’t want this.” Channie dodged his grasp and tapped into her power-name, but Shep got his shield up in time to repel her persuasive magic.
“Oh yes I do.” He made another lunge towards Channie.
Hunter stiff-armed him with one hand and reached for the plate with the other. “You keep away from Channie.”
Shep arched an eyebrow as his gaze darted back and forth between Channie and Hunter. “I thought you and Lovie—”
“Uh-uh.” Hunter shook his head. It was hard to understand him with his mouth full of pie, but it sounded like he said, ‘Lovie’s just for fun.’
Shep snorted and rolled his eyes. “Does her daddy know?”
Hunter’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared at Shep. “You keep your big mouth shut, Shepherd Feenie.”
Shep smirked and held his hand out, palm up. “The only way to shut my mouth is to fill it with pie.”
Hunter pressed his lips together so hard a rim of white encircled his mouth, but he handed the plate to his brother.
Shep shoved the rest of the pie into his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed as he groaned and smacked his lips.
Channie glared at him. “If you’re done with my plate, I’d like to have it back, now.”
He licked it like a dog then shoved it at her. “Thank’s for the pie, Miss Enchantment. It was delicious.”
Channie crossed her arms over her padded chest and stepped back. “You are not welcome. And you can just go put that plate in my momma’s basket. I’m not touching it after you slobbered all over it.”
Hunter took Channie’s hand and led her away from the group of laughing boys. “It was right nice of you to bring me that piece of pie.”
“I’m sorry your jerk of a brother stole it.”
“Me too. But I’m in enough trouble with Lovie's daddy. I don’t need Shep spreading rumors.”
“What’s going on with you two, anyway?” Channie licked her suddenly dry lips. “What’d you mean ‘Lovie's just for fun?’”
Hunter dropped Channie’s hand and shot her a sideways glance then scratched the back of his head. “There’s two kinds of girls. The kind you have fun with and the kind you marry.”
Channie untied her shawl and let the ends hang loose. She pulled her shoulders back, pushing her padded chest forward just a bit. “Why can’t a girl be both?”
“It don’t work that way.” Hunter’s eyebrows arched as his gaze traveled the length of Channie’s body. “Though lord knows, I wish it did.”
Channie grabbed the ends of her shawl but before she could tie them, Hunter stepped in front of her and took both her hands. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’re definitely the marrying kind of girl.”
Channie’s heart leapt into her throat. Was Hunter declaring his intentions? They were a little young to get engaged, but Momma and Daddy had gotten married when they were sixteen.
Hunter caressed the back of Channie’s hands with his thumbs. “And someday—”
A shrill whistle interrupted Hunter. Someone yelled, “Grab a partner and line up!”
Channie recognized “Fire on the Mountain” even before the fiddler joined in. Hunter grabbed her around the waist and ran with her to line up in front of the band.
All the Feenie boys were light on their feet, but Hunter was by far the best dancer in the entire Ozark region. He whirled and twirled Channie ‘till she was so dizzy she could barely stand. His feet were a blur as he beat out a rhythm on the ground that had people dropping out to watch. When the music stopped, he kissed the back of Channie’s hand, thanked her for the dance … and disappeared.