came into the hall with Bob and Merrily and removed her long winter coat, throwing it on a pile with the others. A temporary stage had been erected, where a fiddler, a piano player and a man with a banjo provided the entertainment. They were currently taking a break.
She gazed around, noticing that sawdust was sprinkled on the floor for dancing. The wooden tables on the left-hand side of the hall held homemade desserts and punch. Kids sat under them watching the adults.
On the far right, three rows of chairs had been set up for those who were more interested in visiting than dancing.
Linnette had never seen anything like this, had never been anywhere like this.
Shortly after they’d taken off their coats, Buffalo Bob and Merrily left Linnette to join some of their friends. After an uncomfortable moment of hovering near the front entrance, Linnette sauntered over to the punch bowl and helped herself.
The music started again and before she’d taken her first swallow of punch, three men were shouldering one another aside in an effort to reach her first.
“Want to dance?” Charley Dawson asked her.
“What about me?” DeWayne Block wanted to know.
“It was my idea,” Brian Ledel insisted.
Linnette straightened. A girl could get used to this kind of treatment. “I believe Charley asked me first,” she said and, putting down her punch glass, offered him her hand. The band had just struck up a country waltz.
Linnette realized her mistake the third time Charley inadvertently stepped on her foot.
“Sorry … I’m not much good at this dancing business,” he muttered.
“You’re doing fine,” she assured him and watched him mouth the words: one, two, three, one, two … Even before the dance had finished, DeWayne Block was there to take his turn. Unfortunately, DeWayne seemed to have the same dance instructor as Charley. If this continued, she’d be hobbling around with two bruised and possibly broken feet.
When Pete Mason showed up to claim a dance, she nearly protested that she was ready to sit one out. But that would mean he’d escort her to the rows of chairs and stay with her. Linnette would rather endure another session of trampled toes than have Pete lean over to some stranger and expose another tidbit of her personal life.
Unexpectedly, Pete turned out to be an accomplished dancer. Not once did he come even close to stepping on her feet. More unexpected yet—during the entire dance he didn’t say a word.
With his jaw resting against her temple, he expertly whirled her about the room with moves Arthur Murray himself would’ve approved. They might have been on a ballroom floor in New York City instead of a sawdust-covered Grange Hall on the prairies.
When the music ended, Pete released her with a brief bow. She blinked, viewing him with fresh eyes.
“Where did you learn to dance like that?” she asked. After all, the man was a farmer.
“College,” Pete said, obviously somewhat chagrined. “The dance class passed for a physical education elective, and I figured it was an easy A.” He gave her a wry smile. “I was wrong. I’ve never worked harder for a grade in my life.”
By unspoken agreement, they walked off the floor and over to the chairs. He sat down next to her and suddenly they were both ill-at-ease.
“What I wouldn’t give for another tornado,” he mumbled.
Linnette looked at him in shock. “I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing.” He stared straight ahead.
So did Linnette, until she saw her three earnest beaux heading in her direction. Her toes curled up in the fancy borrowed cowboy boots. If she danced with any of those cowboys again, she’d be lucky if she could walk by the end of the evening.
Before DeWayne could reach her, Pete stood. Clasping her hand, he led her back onto the dance floor.
“My hero,” Linnette whispered and felt his smile as he drew her into his arms. It was a slow dance, and she could hardly believe how well they synchronized their steps, almost as if they’d been partners many times over.
“I’m waiting,” she said as the music wound down.
“For what?”
“Some remark intended to embarrass me.”
Pete nearly missed a step. “Yeah, well, I could see that wasn’t working.”
“Working?” she repeated.
“Never mind.”
She frowned at him. “I don’t understand.”
He cleared his throat. “Are you leaving Buffalo Valley anytime soon? Because if you are, I’d prefer to hear about it now.”
The question startled her. The musicians declared another break, and they walked back to the seats they’d previously occupied. When they were both sitting, Linnette turned to ask him, “Why should you care if I stay or if I go?”
Pete folded his arms and glared at the floor. “Are you planning to leave Buffalo Valley?”
“Do you want me to?”
His eyes flared wide. “No.”
“What makes you think I’m going to leave?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I figured a city girl like you probably wouldn’t stick around for long.”
This conversation was starting to get interesting. “Why do you want me to stay?” she asked. “If that’s what you’re saying.”
He stared back at her as though he resented the question. “Have you noticed how many times I’ve come into town in the last two months? We’ve got an excellent cook out at the farmhouse, and my brother and I eat real well. The food at home is just as tasty as Buffalo Bob’s. Maybe tastier.”
In other words, Pete was telling her he’d driven into town because of her.
“You never asked me out,” Linnette reminded him.
“With good reason.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “I seem to remember you telling me you’ve got a broken heart.” He expelled his breath, then uncrossed his arms. “I figured you needed time to get over this other guy.”
“Oh … kay.”
“Why do you think I’ve been coming to Buffalo Valley so often? It’s an hour’s drive each way!”
“I’m not a mind reader, Pete.”
“I had to make sure no one else was showing any interest in you.”
Linnette nearly swallowed her tongue. “What did you just say?”
