At last there was a change in the angle of their man's locked fists: Will had inched the other arm back.
The Swede bared his teeth and straightened their locked grip again, but now their hands shook with tension. The bystanders cheered and shouted encouragement.
Will gained the inches again. Sweat dripped off the other man's forehead, and now Will's face was beaded with perspiration as well, but the thunderous gaze that bored into his opponent's remained unchanged.
A tiny smile lifted Linnea's lips. By all appearances, the Swede stood a better chance of winning: he was marginally larger, rippled with muscle and honed by swinging a hammer all day before a glowing forge. Will was no featherweight in comparison, but she suspected that his unshakable countenance-that glare he had perfected—was his ace in the hole.
The tension drained from Linnea's body at the reassuring thought. Glancing at the men around her, she noted the pride and excitement on the faces of Will-men as they cheered him on. At the ranch, he hung back and never participated in their nightly gatherings around the fire, but here, for this event, he was in the limelight.
Even Aggie watched with a fierce expression, her eyes bright and one gnarled fist raised in the air as if she were helping him.
A shout went up and Linnea turned her attention back to the contest.
Sure enough, inch by inch, the Swede's arm gave way, twisting backward toward the table. He emitted a growl in his frustration, and the crowd yelled above him.
With a final, mighty shove, Will pinned the back of the man's hand to the tabletop and held it there for a moment. Then he released his hold and jumped from the chair to stand.
The crowd was wild with shouts and applause.
Linnea and Cimarron exchanged grins and the other hands whooped with excitement over their boss's win.
Will was accepting congratulations and wearing a lopsided grin. He approached the Swede and they shook hands good-naturedly. The crowd surrounded them and Linnea lost sight of Will.
People dispersed, and Linnea observed the women setting out and uncovering food again. She was considering going to help when Will sought her out. His face and hair were damp, as though he'd washed, and he was once again wearing his shirt.
"Congratulations," she said to him.
He ducked his head, almost boyishly. Too bad some of that muscle ain't between your ears, boy," Aggie said from beside Linnea.
He ignored her comment to ask, "Are you ladies hungry?"
"I believe I am," Linnea replied.
Why don't you both go back to our shady spot and I'll get your food."
You don't have to—" she began.
This is your day to relax," he interrupted. "Stop arguing."
Without further argument, she led Aggie to their blankets.
By the time the sun set and the fireflies came out, and had organized and tuned up. Will and the men arranged blankets and stools near the wooden floor that had been constructed.
The town's mayor made a speech and the schoolchildren, led by their teacher, sang patriotic songs. Linnea spotted the Pruitt children right away. The crowd clapped and cheered when the pupils finished.
The smells of beer and watermelon drifted on the night air. Conversation and laughter were a constant drone, and lanterns hung from posts illuminated a wide area.
Linnea's nap had refreshed her, and she enjoyed talking to the ladies who sat nearby and then watching the musicians perform and eventually the dancers move out onto the wooden planks.
Mavis and Piper were among the first couples to step out, and others joined them. Sarah and Petey slept on their nearby quilts. Linnea observed the Pruitts as they danced, marveling over how smoothly they moved and the smiles wreathing their faces: Mavis's was beaming, her husband's enamored. Their relationship was a marvel to Linnea. Mavis adored her husband and it was obvious he felt the same way toward her.
Respect and love were apparent in their speech and actions and in their interaction with their children.
An intense yearning came over her and she hoped the yawning ache inside wasn't jealousy. She didn't begrudge the Pruitts a moment of their happiness.
Linnea experienced a slice of pain at her own situation. Her child would not have a father, would not know security the way the Pruitt children did. She would love her child, of course, but that was the only thing she was prepared to give. It was more than she'd ever received as a child, but it wasn't as much as her child needed and deserved. At the thought, she got weepy and swiped at her eyes.
"The music stopped then. Popping sounds echoed across the pasture and bright lights burst in the sky overhead. Fireworks!
Linnea watched in awe, silent while others clapped and ahhed. She'd seen fireworks in the distance a time or two, but never this close. The colorful show went on for nearly half an hour, then dwindled to a few sporadic bursts, and the band began playing again.
You ready to give it a whirl?" Will knelt beside her on the blanket, one wrist dangling over his upraised knee. The lantern light glowed on his dark hair.
She blinked self-consciously. "You mean—" she glanced uncertainly at the dancers who resumed their steps "—dance?"
Chapter Eighteen
"I mean dance." He took her elbow. "Come on. I won't let you say no."
''But I can't dance," she objected. You never have?"
"No."
"There's nothin' to it, really, I'll show you. Come on."
He had urged her to her feet, but she still resisted his tug on her arm. "I don't think so. I'm—I'm—"
"You're what?"
"I'm clumsy," she finished.
her forward.
Linnea planted her feet firmly and refused to move any farther. "I'm as big as a barn, Will Tucker, and I am not going to make a spectacle of myself!"
Her objection was spoken in a loud whisper above the music.
"I'm not askin' you to do a reel, just something easy. Nobody's lookin'."
"Everybody's looking, what do you think all these people on the sides are doing?"
"Well, they're not havin' as much fun as the dancers, I know that." But he released her arm.
Fun? Had he just spoken of fun? She blinked at him again. A burst of color lit the night sky above. Will glanced up. How much beer had the man consumed?
Slowly she slid her gaze to the Pruitts and the other couples, dancing just for the simple enjoyment of it.
"You work as hard as anybody here," Will told her. "You deserve a good time." He held out his hand.
She wanted to join in and know what dancing was like. She didn't want to feel awkward and out of place. She wanted to have fun. She regarded Will's extended hand.
Hesitantly she reached for it, and his large warm fingers swallowed hers. He led her forward.
"What will people think of us dancing together?" she asked.
"That we like to dance. No harm in that," he replied. "Look, there's a father and daughter, the Homers are sister and brother, I even see in-laws together. Enoch Brimley danced with Rachel Pruitt a while ago, did you miss that?''
She must have, she'd been so fascinated by Rachel's parents.
He guided her onto the wooden planking and between the dancers, where he stepped before her, kept her hand in his and wrapped his other arm around her waist. "Put your hand on my shoulder."
She did so. Thank goodness, he had long arms, but her belly still reached him waist level. "Follow me," he said as though he didn't notice, and counted, "one, two, three, four…one, two, three, four…"
Linnea wasn't as clumsy as she feared, and she caught on quickly. Beside Will she didn't feel as enormous as she thought she was most of the time, and as she'd noticed before, he made her feel more womanlike than she'd ever known.
She'd spent so many of her years feeling like a worthless girl that the concept of being a woman and having someone desire her company was difficult to grasp. The fact that others chose to visit with her, ask her questions about herself, simply notice her had been a revelat
ion since she'd been on the Double T.
Will wanting her as a dance partner didn't even register on her scale of possibilities. "Do you feel sorry for me?" she asked out of nowhere.
He drew his brows down. "Why, is somethin' wrong?''
"In general. Do you feel sorry for me?"
Thinking, he glanced aside, then back at her face. "I know you've had some hardships, what with losin' your husband and needing work and all. I sympathize with your situation."
She thought over his words.
His expression had relaxed. "Have I ever treated you as though I felt sorry for you?"
He had shouted at her, piled on the work, assigned her chores and responsibilities, ordered her about, chased her down under a bush to rave at her… "No, I don't believe you have."
"There's your answer, then."
The fireworks had ended. The night smelled of sulfur arid beer. The music changed, the rhythm becoming a little slower, and he drew her closer, firming his hold at the small of her back. Her belly pressed against his belt.
"That uncomfortable?" he asked.
"No."
The baby inside her chose that moment to shift, the thump reaching Will's shirt above his belt. The roll and kick came again.
Linnea dared a glance up at his face.
He was studying her. "That happen all the time?''
She nodded.
"Does it hurt?"
"Not there. Under my ribs, it's painful sometimes."
"That's amazin'."
She couldn't hold back a smile. She had never shared the miracle of her unborn child with anyone. "It is, isn't it?"
It seemed Will was moving slower, just so he could feel the baby when it kicked. It happened again and they shared a private grin.
For Will, feeling the life inside Linnea was an incredible revelation. He'd felt the bellies of mares with foals and of cows with calves, had witnessed the births of a hundred animals, but he'd never been this close to a woman carrying a child before. There was no real comparison.
There was something entirely unique and intimate about such a feminine condition, and its very mystery enticed him.
Since Linnea's arrival in the spring—and since his discovery of her secret—he'd watched her expand with the growth of her child. Thinking herself unobserved, she sometimes placed a hand at the small of her back as though it ached; occasionally she flattened her palm over a place on her belly, as though something had drawn attention, and he'd wondered.
With her close like this, the scent of her freshly washed hair teased his senses, and the image of her brushing it out before the stove that morning rose in his mind's eye. A dozen times he'd pictured her hair as it had been that first night she'd brushed it out before the campfire. And the sight had been breathtakingly erotic. He studied the highlights now in the glow of the lanterns and wondered how the texture would feel in his hands.
The more he saw, the more he knew, the more he wondered. A mere taste of Linnea provoked a man to want more.
And now he'd kissed her. That memory was confusing and provocative at the same time. He'd thought of her as a mouse, a frail, frightened creature that scurried at the sound of a footstep. Initially, she had run from him.
But not so lately. She stood up to him more and more, even voicing her thoughts and opinions. She didn't seem like the same person who had arrived on the wagon that first day.
Her former life was still a mystery. He didn't know where she'd lived, what her life had been like or anything about her relationship with her husband. She had revealed only that he hadn't wanted her to read. If she'd been grieving for the man, would she have allowed Will's kiss that night in the kitchen? Or was she lonely, confused and hungry for comfort? Maybe she still feared Will.
He didn't think so. She had at one time, but that wasn't the case now. He'd spent a foolish amount of time thinking over these things—things he wouldn't have given two seconds' thought a year ago—six months ago.
She was looking up at him, and she had eyes so dark and full of mystery, Will could fall right into their depths. Her innocent reaction to his kiss still flustered and aroused him, and he wanted to kiss her again right then and there.
Shocking himself, he drew his attention from the delicate bow of her upper lip to the other couples. No one was paying attention, thank goodness. His body had become uncomfortably aroused and heat and humidity dampened his skin.
When Cimarron interrupted, requesting a dance with Miz McConaughy, Linnea's eyes showed her surprise at Will's easy acquiescence. Will released her and backed away from the dance floor to stand in the cooler air… catch his thoughts… compose his physical reaction.
She and Cimarron began the dance a little stiffly, as she adjusted to the younger man's steps, but within minutes they blended in with the other dancers. Will studied them together.
She probably needed a young husband like Cimarron, someone affable and outgoing, though Will had never seen any indication that she regarded Cimarron in a romantic way. Had Cimarron had any fanciful thoughts toward Linnea? Probably. "Boss!" Roy called.
Will turned and followed the voice, which led him toward the wagons.
Roy and Ben were unceremoniously dragging Clem toward Will's wagon. The older man's head flopped to the side and his heels dragged along the ground. They reached the wagon and Will helped them lift Clem into the bed, climbing in so they didn't drop him or bang his head on the side.
Clem lay where they placed him, snoring.
Ben staggered when he stood up, out of breath and chuckling, then attempted to climb down.
Roy helped him, and both nearly fell in a heap at Will's feet. Will couldn't help a laugh.
"I'm goin' into Rock Creek," Ben told them. "Don't look for me back tonight."
"You plannin' to service that pretty filly, Gussie, again?'' Roy asked, referring to one of the sporting women at the Big Horse Tavern. "Hope she has a coffeepot in her room or you'll look just like him." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the drunk in the wagon bed.
Ben punched Roy's upper arm good-naturedly, guess you wouldn't know what Gussie has in her room, would you?"
They ambled away, and Will returned to the festivities.
Cimarron was leading Linnea from the dance floor. Several of the others were leaving as well, gathering their families and belongings.
Linnea's face was flushed, and her dark eyes twinkled. He'd never seen her looking so carefree and happy.
"Ready to head home?" Will asked.
She nodded.
He woke Aggie, who dozed in her chair, and carried the rocker while Linnea waited with her. He came back to carry Aggie, and Linnea walked beside him in the dark, holding his arm for guidance.
"Sorry, Aggie, but you'll have to sit back here with Clem. He won't bother you."
"Clem tied on a good one, eh?" Aggie asked with a cackle.
Will helped Linnea up onto the seat and guided the team home.
It took him half an hour to assist Aggie in, cany Clem to the bunkhouse over his shoulder, and put up his horses for the night. When he returned from the barn, Linnea had lit a lantern on the kitchen table, and made a pot of coffee. "Want a cup?" she asked.
He did, and he thanked her. "I'll drink it outside, want to join me?"
She followed him out the door to the porch and settled on the top step.
Will stood leaning against a post and sipped his coffee. "I set the crates with the dishes on the porch there, covered with the toweling. I'll help you wash them tomorrow."
"I'd appreciate that."
After a few moments of silently enjoying the bright stars and the crickets' night melody, she said, "You were right."
He glanced down at her. "What?"
"About meeting other women. I really liked Mavis. It was good to talk to her."
He didn't want to know the details of their talk; it was enough that she'd had someone to question about female things.
"She said she'd come if I sent for her. You know, w
hen it was time."
"That's good."
"If Mavis comes, you won't have to send for the doctor, will you?''
He didn't know why she was opposed to the doctor, but she had made her aversion plain on more than one occasion. "It's just wise to have a doctor attend you," he replied.
She pressed her lips in a line and looked the other way.
He was going to make sure she had the best care possible; she didn't have to be happy about it.
In the distance a coyote howled, a sad lonely sound that always made Will feel comfortably isolated from the noise and confusion of the populated regions. He would check the horses in the corrals before turning in. Their calm or restlessness was his key to nearby danger, and he relied on their senses.
The approach of a single rider snagged his attention, and he studied the dark outline as Roy rode near.
"Who is it?" Linnea asked.
"Roy."
"How can you tell?"
"The sorrel, the way Roy sits the saddle."
Roy spotted them on the porch and reined to a halt several feet away.
"The rest of 'em go into town?" Will asked. The men probably wouldn't return until the early hours of the morning.
"Yep. Clem in the bunkhouse?''
"You might want to take your bedroll outside tonight," Will replied.
"That bad? You should have left him outside," Roy answered good-naturedly.
"Considered it, but he wouldn't wake up if a grizzly stood on his chest."
Roy chuckled. "Night, ma'am," he said to Linnea. "I'll help you with those pans in the morning."
"Will said he'd do it," she answered. Thanks anyway, and good night."
Roy urged his horse toward the barn and dismounted to open one of the double doors and lead the animal inside. A moment later, light spilled out of the opening, and the door closed.
Will had unexplainably liked the sound of his name coming so conversationally from Linnea's lips. Will said he'd do it. He lashed the simple words and the sound of her saying them into his memory with unfamiliar pleasure.
"Roy's a nice man," Linnea said softly.
The Tenderfoot Bride Page 15
