When Edith and Walter left the table to join the dancers, Dal turned to her. “Do you want to dance?”
Ellie shook her head.
“Do you want to leave?”
She turned him. “Do you?”
“Not if you don’t.”
She leaned back to examine him more thoroughly. “You didn’t want to come in the first place.”
“At first, but I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“Well...” He scratched the side of his neck. “Last night—”
“Imagine that, Dal Roberts bringing someone besides his sister to the ball.”
A chill rippled over Ellie’s shoulders. She’d heard that voice someplace before and shifted in her chair to turn around enough to see who it was.
Her heart stumbled at the sight of the woman who had caused the commotion in the dress shop.
“Imagine that,” Dal said. “I finally met someone I don’t mind taking out in public.”
Ellie almost choked on her own saliva, and spun around to gape at Dal. He sounded like the arrogant Dal again, not the man who moments ago had been acting nervous, or the one who had been so charming and pleasant all day.
“Come on, Ellie, let’s dance.”
He stood and pulled her to her feet. Though she didn’t want to dance, had no idea how to dance, she did want to get away from that woman.
Dal led her among the other dancers, and copying what the other women were doing, she put one hand on his shoulder while he clasped her other one.
“Just let your feet follow mine,” he said.
It took her a few clumsy steps, but finally she understood what he meant, and soon they were gliding across the floor as elegantly as the other couples. Those people faded away and so did all her other thoughts as Dal guided her. He was smiling down at her, and she couldn’t look away. He did that to her—could catch her gaze so deeply she felt as if he could see right inside her. This time, that didn’t even scare her, not like it usually did, and she didn’t mind not looking away. As a matter of fact, there wasn’t anywhere else she wanted to look. Not even when the music ended and they parted in order to applaud.
As the clapping stopped, someone pushed her from behind. Ellie caught herself from tripping by planting both hands on Dal’s chest. He gripped her waist and, secure in the strength of his hold, she looked over her shoulder.
It was that woman again. Only this time a man was with her, who with two black eyes was almost unrecognizable as the man who had been at the dressmaker’s shop.
“Caroline, come on,” he said, pulling on the woman’s arm.
“But, Ed, I want to introduce you to— No, wait, that’s right,” the woman said loudly while pointing a finger at Ellie. “You aren’t Dal’s wife, you were just pretending.” Twisting about, she said into the crowd, “She was just pretending.”
Ellie’s spine stiffened as her stomach sank.
Beside her, Dal growled, “Mansel, I told you last night to control your wife.”
The man’s name clicked in Ellie’s mind, and suddenly so did Caroline’s. Was this the Caroline who had broken Dal’s heart? That seemed impossible. And the man beside her certainly wasn’t more handsome than Dal, not in any way.
“I’m sorry, Dal,” the man said while grimacing. “I—”
“You’re sorry?” the woman interrupted. “For what?”
“For your behavior,” the man replied.
“My behavior?” Caroline screeched.
“Yes. Do you think I don’t know you only agreed to marry me in order to make Dal jealous? It didn’t work, Caroline.”
Stomping a foot, Caroline shouted, “She’s the one running around town claiming to be married to him.”
“No, she didn’t,” Dal said.
“Oh, shut up!” she snapped before spinning toward her husband. “He stands up for a lying little tramp, and you—”
“That’s enough, Caroline,” the man said.
“No, it’s not enough!” Spinning back around, Caroline shouted, “She shouldn’t even be allowed at this ball. Her father was a cattle rustler, and he’s a stupid fool for thinking—
Ellie didn’t hear the rest of Caroline’s words, nor did she take the time to think through her reaction. Anger filled her and rather than duck as she had at the dress shop, when the woman came at her this time, Ellie swung a punch. “Dal isn’t stupid, or a fool!”
It wasn’t until Caroline hit the floor, blood coming out of her nose, that Ellie realized what she’d done.
Shouts sounded and people rushed forward, and Ellie wanted to disappear. Knowing that was impossible, she looked at Ed Mansel, who was kneeling beside his wife. “I’m sorry. I—I— So sorry.”
He waved a hand, and Ellie spun around to Dal.
“I’m sorry, but she had no right to call you a stupid fool.”
Dal did the most unexpected thing. He didn’t shout or stomp away. Instead, he pulled her close and kissed her square on the lips.
Ellie went into complete shock. At least that was what she assumed had happened. Why else would her knees want to buckle and bees be buzzing in her ears? Dal’s hold kept her upright as he continued to kiss her. She gasped for air when his lips left hers, and her head fell forward. Dal kissed her on the forehead before pulling her against his chest.
His arms around her felt so wonderful, she stood there until her senses returned enough that she could comprehend the rumble coming from his chest was laughter. The rest of her off-kilter senses returned, and she snapped up her head.
“What are you laughing at?”
“I think that was the best right hook I’ve ever seen.”
Ellie stepped back and rubbed the knuckles on her right hand, which were throbbing. Thinking about what she’d just done, she glanced about gingerly. People were still gathered near, but no one was pointing. They were grinning and nodding, and one man even winked at her. Peering back up at Dal, she asked, “Where’s Caroline?”
“Ed carried her out the door,” he answered. “You want some ice for that hand?”
She shook her head. “No, it’ll be fine. I’ve punched my brothers harder than that.”
When the piano player hit the keys, Dal took her hand. “In that case, let’s dance.”
Chapter Twelve
As Ellie carefully wrapped the beautiful yellow dress in the paper it had arrived in, she wished she didn’t have to give it back. But knew she did. Last night would forever live in her mind as the dream that really had come true. She didn’t need a dress she would never wear again to remind her of dancing with Dal. Of laughing like she’d never laughed before. Of feeling as if she wasn’t an outsider, a weed among flowers.
She set the package on the table with the others as a knock sounded on her door. Drawing in a deep breath, she placed a hand on her chest in an attempt to slow the commotion of her heart. Dal had only kissed her that once, right after she’d punched Caroline, but when he’d said good-night, she’d thought he had been about to kiss her again and had bolted into her room, only to regret having done so. In fact, she had regretted it so much, she’d lain awake most of the night.
Disappointment flooded her system when she opened the door and found it wasn’t Dal on the other side.
“Mr. Roberts sent me to haul your luggage down to the lobby,” Oscar said. “The carriage will be around to get you shortly.”
“Thank you,” she said. “It’s all right there. Lottie knows where those packages go.”
He nodded. “Mr. Roberts—”
“Is right here.”
Her heart somersaulted at the sound of Dal’s voice.
“Good morning,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”
The commotion inside her continued, but she managed to say, “Yes, tha
nk you. You?”
“Yes, you wore me out. I haven’t danced that much in years.”
As usual, his teasing calmed her nerves and gave her the courage to retort. “Well, I’ve never danced that much, so we’re even.”
“I hope I don’t have blisters. Do you?”
“Do I what? Have blisters or hope that you do?”
Dal chuckled and took her arm to lead her out of the room. “New boots can cause blisters.”
“Not those ones,” she said, referring to the pair that had been delivered to her room yesterday before the ball. They hadn’t been the pair of shoes she’d picked out for Clara; those were packed and ready to be delivered back to Buckley. She’d packed up the new boots, too, along with her dress, in order for them to be returned to the shoe store, but she’d never forget them. Not only had they been extremely soft and comfortable, they’d been embroidered with yellow flowers that had perfectly matched the dress she’d worn. “I packaged them up. Lottie knows where to return them.”
“I heard you tell Oscar that,” he said. “Ready for breakfast? You’ll want to eat as much as possible. I think we’re in for a long day of traveling. The snow is really coming down out there.”
“I noticed that from the window,” she answered. “So much for an early spring.” She hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but the gloomy sky on the other side of the window was depressing. As if she’d needed a reminder that her future wasn’t full of sunshine and trees covered with blossoms. “It won’t slow the train, will it?” she asked.
“Anxious to get home?”
They were walking down the stairs, and she feigned interest in her steps. She wasn’t the least bit anxious to get home, but she certainly couldn’t tell him that.
“Don’t worry, trains can travel through the snow.”
Of course they could. Nothing as simple as the weather could prevent her from returning to the world in which she belonged. “I know,” she answered. “I hear their whistles all the time. Even when it’s snowing.” She held in a sigh, thinking about all the times she’d heard those whistles, wishing she was on one of those trains and not in her sod shanty sparingly burning twists of grass and tree roots to keep from freezing.
They ate a large breakfast, thanked Sara for the wonderful meal and the basket of food she’d packed for their day of traveling and then climbed into the enclosed carriage that would take them to the train station. Ellie was surprised at the amount of snow that had fallen, and was glad she didn’t have on the embroidered boots or the cape with the fur collar. The wet snow would have damaged them. Her worn boots and old coat were much more suited to this weather. Much more suited to her life.
Once she and Dal were seated across from each other on the train’s hard seats with only the basket from Sara on the floor, she asked, “Where are our bags?”
“I had them put in the baggage car along with the things we bought for Clara.”
She nodded and glanced around. “There are more people on the train this time.”
He scanned the car before agreeing. “A few, but I don’t see a cat.”
“You didn’t see Miss Priss until she wanted your sandwich.”
“You’re right, I didn’t.” He scanned the car again, this time leaning down to glance under the benches.
“Oh, stop it,” she said, tickled by his actions.
“Hopefully Sara packed enough to share.”
She frowned. “Why? Did you see a cat?”
“No, but as you pointed out, I didn’t last time, either.”
The train jerked and jolted a few times before it began to roll more smoothly. Through the falling snow, Ellie watched buildings roll past the window until the last one had disappeared completely. She couldn’t stop the sigh that left her lungs.
“Did you have a good time?” Dal asked.
There was no reason to deny it. “Actually, I did. Did you?”
“Actually, I did, too.”
She grinned at how he teased her, and then bit her bottom lip, unable to think of anything else to say. The trip would soon be over, and things would return to the way they’d always been. The way they were supposed to be.
Dal stood and turned around, sitting down beside her on the bench. “I have something for you.”
Finding she wasn’t in the least disturbed by his closeness, she asked, “What?”
He reached inside his brown coat and pulled out a newspaper. “It’s today’s.” Snapping it open, he said, “We can read it together.”
The trip would end soon, but until it was over, there was no reason why she couldn’t enjoy the friendship they’d formed. “All right.” She leaned closer to his shoulder and he put one arm around her, holding the paper wide-open in front of both of them. By page three, or maybe four, the words turned into nothing but blurry smudges, and she stifled a yawn. The slow movement of the train was like a rocking chair lulling her to sleep. Well, that and being snuggled against Dal.
* * *
When Ellie’s head landed on his shoulder, Dal folded up the paper and tossed it onto the opposite bench before he rested his head on top of hers and closed his eyes. Not kissing her good-night at her door had kept him awake half the night. Or maybe it had been kissing her at the dance. For it had been the lingering taste of her kiss that had eaten away at him until the wee hours of the morning.
As well as the flashing image of the solid right hook she’d laid into Caroline. Ellie had the same attitude as him—mess with mine, and you’ll be sorry. Caroline had deserved that punch. It seemed everyone had thought so, and said he’d landed quite a catch when it came to Ellie. He’d admitted that the couple from the train had been wrong in assuming that they were married, but he’d never once protested against him and Ellie being a couple. He couldn’t say why, but that idea didn’t bother him. Not in the least.
* * *
Dal couldn’t say how long he’d slept, but when he awoke, the desire to taste Ellie’s lips again was stronger than ever. Especially when she stirred slightly and lifted her eyelids, looking at him with sleep-filled eyes.
He’d been wrong yesterday. She’d been stunning all dressed up for the ball, but right now, with those shimmering sleepy eyes, she was by far the most beautiful woman on earth. Without further ado, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.
It took Ellie a moment to realize she wasn’t still dreaming, and another to remember she was on a train, headed home. It was that final thought that made her snap her head back, breaking the kiss. Her heart raced and her lips tingled. She pressed three fingers against them and refused to glance toward Dal.
Her breathing was still haphazard when he asked, “Did you have a good nap?”
She nodded, but feeling the need to change the subject, she pointed out how slow the train was traveling. “I hope we make it to Buckley before dark.”
“We will,” Dal answered.
Ellie bit her lip and tried hard not to think about how her mouth was still tingling, along with other parts of her.
“Don’t worry,” he said.
“I’m not worried.”
“Good.” His tone said he didn’t believe her.
“I’m not,” she insisted.
“It was snowing the first time I rode on a train,” he said.
With a mixture of interest and skepticism, she asked, “It was?”
“Yes, I was eight and...
He easily drew her into a story of visiting his grandparents, and that led to another and another. She enjoyed learning things about him, and to her surprise, shared things about her own childhood while they ate from the lunch basket. Afterward, Dal invited her to join him in a walk through the car to share their leftovers with the other passengers. Everyone was thankful for the food, and she felt a sense of pride like she’d never known.
By
the time the train pulled into the Buckley depot, evening was well upon them. As Ellie walked down the steps she wondered how to say goodbye to Dal. She knew it should be a trivial issue, but somehow it wasn’t.
Sheriff Herber met them on the snow-covered platform. “I’m sorry, folks, but the train will be held up here. The snow storm’s too dangerous for any traveling. The hotel is full, but we have families who have agreed to take you all in for the night. Hopefully the storm will be over by morning and you can continue your travels.”
The biting wind and snow, as well as the passengers hurrying along, created a chaos that matched what was happening inside Ellie as Dal hurried her away from the train station. The weather had truly become her enemy today. Not only was it now delaying her separation from Dal—something she was already struggling with—but it put her in a very precarious position. The sheriff had directed them to his house. Her, Ellie Alexander, a rustler’s daughter, staying with the town lawman didn’t seem right. Where was spring when she needed it?
It turned out her fears were unfounded. The sheriff and his wife were friendly and welcoming, and their three young sons were utterly charming, especially the way they joked around with Dal. Her time at the sheriff’s home turned out to be as enchanting as the ball had been, minus Dal’s kiss, which filled her mind again that night while lying in Rupert’s bed. Rupert was the sheriff’s youngest son, aged only five, and he’d been thrilled at the prospect of sleeping with his mother and father—which brought teasing from his older brothers until Dal pointed out that they used to like sleeping with their mother and father, too. They’d agreed he was right when he’d admitted that he had liked sleeping in his parents’ bed when he was young.
His words must have stuck in her mind, because that night she dreamed about being snuggled in a big, soft bed with Dal and a tiny child. That dream, or the memory of Dal’s kisses, didn’t lessen in the morning. They stayed in her mind long after she had risen and dressed.
The weather seemed to take pity upon her, too. The storm had stopped during the night and the bright sunshine was melting the snow as fast as it had fallen the day before. Dal refused to allow her to walk and insisted upon renting a buggy to take them both home.
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