to cross the room. Walker stepped to the right and captured Lindsay’s hand. “Dance with me.”
Her eyes widened. “Dance...with you?”
“Come on.” He swayed his hips and swung their arms. She stayed stiff, reluctant. He could hardly blame her. After all, just a few hours ago, they’d been facing off in court. “It’s the weekend. Let’s forget about court cases and arguments and just...”
“Have fun?” She arched a brow.
He shot her a grin. “I hear they do that, even in towns as small as Rust Creek Falls.”
That made her laugh. Her hips were swaying along with his, though she didn’t seem to be aware she was moving to the beat. “Are you saying my town is boring?”
Boring? She had no idea. But he wouldn’t tell her that. Instead he gave her his patented killer smile. “I’m saying it’s a small town. With some great music on the juke and a dance floor just waiting for you.” He lifted her hand and spun her to the right, then back out again to the left. “Come on, Ms. Dalton, dance with me. Me, the man, not me, the corporation you’re suing.”
“I shouldn’t...” She started to slide her hand out of his.
He stepped closer to her. “Shouldn’t have fun? Shouldn’t dance with the enemy?”
“I shouldn’t do anything with the enemy.”
He grinned, to show her he wasn’t all bad. Keep her on her toes, keep her from predicting him, and keep the advantage on his side. “I’m not asking for anything. Just a dance.”
Another song came on the juke, and the blonde and her friends started up again, moving from one side of the dance floor to the other. Their movements swept Walker and Lindsay into the middle of the dance floor, leaving her with two choices—dance with him or wade through the other women to escape.
For a second, he thought he’d won and she was going to dance with him. Then the smile on her face died, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones, but I don’t dance with people who don’t take responsibility for their mistakes.”
Then she turned on her heel and left the dance floor and a moment later, the bar.
Walker tried to muster up some enthusiasm to dance with the other women—any man in his right mind would have taken that opportunity—but he couldn’t. He excused himself, paid his tab then left the bar. The victories he’d had today in court and later in the bar rang hollow in the cool night air.
* * *
Lindsay headed home, her stomach still in knots. She rolled down the driver side window of her sedan, letting in the fresh, crisp October Montana air, and tried to appreciate the clear, blank landscape ahead of her and the bright stars in the sky. But her mind kept going back to Walker Jones, to that moment in the bar.
Had she almost danced with him?
What was she thinking? He was the enemy, the one responsible for little baby Georgina’s illness and scary hospital stay. Maybe not him personally, but his company, and the lack of standards at his day care centers, was indeed responsible. Not to mention how many of her letters and phone calls to Jones’s corporate headquarters had gone unanswered, as he clearly tried to ignore the problem or hoped it would go away. He’d been aware of the problem from the minute the outbreak happened in town, and yet he had done nothing. Hadn’t flown in to check on the day care, hadn’t responded to the worried parents.
She had no interest in Walker Jones. No interest at all. And that little moment in the bar when he’d asked her to dance had been an anomaly, nothing more.
Walker Jones thought he could buy her town through alcohol and joining in on a few line dances. Well, he could think again. Neither she nor Rust Creek Falls would be so easily swayed by that man.
Lindsay headed into the ranch house where she’d grown up. She’d come back home to live after law school, partly because she needed to save money and partly because she’d missed her family. Now it was just her, her brother Travis and their parents. The house didn’t ring with the same noise as it did when Lindsay was young, but it still felt like home whenever she walked in the door.
The scents of fresh-baked bread, some kind of deliciousness the family had earlier for dinner and her mother’s floral perfume filled the air. It was late, and her parents would have already gone to bed, but Lindsay saw a light on in the kitchen.
“Hey, Trav,” she said to her brother as she entered the room. “What has you home early?”
Travis was the one who was known for partying late, dating a new girl every week and living a little wilder than the rest of the Daltons. She adored her brother, but hoped he’d settle down one of these days. He was a good guy, and in Lindsay’s opinion, there were far too few of those in the world.
“My date canceled. She got the flu. Didn’t feel like heading to the Ace, and so here I am.” He crossed to the fridge and pulled open the door. “Plus I heard Mom made meat loaf for dinner.”
Lindsay laughed. “I knew it had to be something bigger than a date canceling.”
“Hey, I don’t get my favorite dinner often enough.” He gave her the lopsided grin that had charmed dozens of women over the years. “Want a meat loaf sandwich?”
“Nah, I’m good. I was just going to grab a glass of wine and head out to the back deck. It’s a nice night.” Hundreds of thoughts and worries jockeyed for space in her mind. She needed some fresh air, some open space. The soft nicker of the horses in the stable, the whisper of a breeze across her face. Not the confines of the kitchen.
Travis handed her the open bottle of chardonnay from the refrigerator door. “Wine on a weeknight? Must have been a hell of a bad day.”
“It’s Friday night, so technically it’s the weekend.” She didn’t mention that she’d already had a couple of glasses at the Ace in the Hole. Nor did she admit Travis might be right.
“Yeah, right. You, little sister, are about as wild as a house cat lying in the sun.” He grinned, then started assembling his sandwich. A thick slice of meat loaf on top of some homemade white bread, then ketchup and a second slice. “Except when you were dating Jeremy back in college and thinking about running off to the big city.”
The two of them walked out to the back deck and sat in the Adirondack chairs that faced the wide expanse of the ranch. In the dark, it seemed like the Dalton land stretched forever. The sight was calming, reassuring. “I never thought about running off to the big city,” Lindsay said. “That was Jeremy’s idea.”
Her former fiancé had been smart and witty and driven. She’d met him in law school and liked him from the start. Then, as they neared graduation, he’d told her he had no intentions of living in Montana. He wanted to move to New York and practice law in a place that made him feel alive. For Lindsay, life was here, in the rich soil, the graceful mountains, the clean air. She never wanted to live anywhere else.
“You know, I still keep in touch with old Jer,” Travis said. He’d met her fiancé on a visit to see Lindsay, and they’d become fast friends. “He did move to New York. Doing pretty well up there and working in corporate law.”
Lindsay sat back against the chair and looked up at the stars dotting
