“Oh, that would be great.” Kate slipped her arm around Rorie’s waist and gave her an enthusiastic squeeze. “Thank you, Rorie. I know you’re trying to reassure me, and I appreciate it.”
That had been exactly Rorie’s intent.
“It probably sounds selfish,” Kate continued, “but I’m glad your car broke down when it did. Without any difficulty at all, I can see us becoming the best of friends.”
Rorie could, too, but that only added to her growing sense of uneasiness.
Nightingale was a sleepy kind of town. Businesses lined both sides of Main Street, with a beauty shop, an insurance agency, Nellie’s Café and a service station on one side, a grocery store, pharmacy and five-and-dime on the other. Rorie had the impression that things happened in their own time in Nightingale, Oregon. Few places could have been more unlike San Francisco, where people always seemed to be rushing. Here, no one seemed to feel any need to hurry. It was as though this town, with its population of fifteen hundred, existed in a time warp. Rorie found the relaxed pace unexpectedly pleasant.
“The library is across from the high school on Maple Street,” Kate explained as she parked her Ford on Main. “That way, students have easy access.”
Rorie climbed out of the car, automatically pressing down the door lock.
“You don’t have to do that here. There hasn’t been a vehicle stolen in…oh, at least twenty years.”
Rorie’s eyes must have revealed her surprise, because Kate went on, “Actually, we had trouble passing our last bond issue for a new patrol car. People couldn’t see the need since there hasn’t been a felony committed in over two years. About the worst thing that goes on is when Harry Ackerman gets drunk. That happens once or twice a year and he’s arrested for disturbing the peace.” She grinned sheepishly. “He sings old love songs to Nellie at the top of his lungs in front of the café. They were apparently sweet on each other a long time back. Nellie married someone else and Harry never got over the loss of his one true love.”
Looping the strap of her bag over her shoulder, Rorie looked around the quiet streets.
“The fire and police station are in the same building,” Kate pointed out next. “And there’s a really nice restaurant on Oak. If you want, we could have lunch there.”
“Only if you let me treat.”
“I wouldn’t hear of it,” Kate said with a shake of her head that sent her braids flying. “You ’re my guest.”
Rorie decided not to argue, asking another question instead. “Where do the ranchers get their supplies?” It seemed to her that type of store would do a thriving business, yet she hadn’t seen one.
“At Garner’s Feed and Supply. It’s on the outskirts of town—I’ll take you past on the way out. In fact, we should take a driving tour so you can see a little more of Nightingale. Main Street is only a small part of it.”
By the time Kate and Rorie walked over to Maple and the library, Rorie’s head was swimming with the names of all the people Kate had insisted on introducing. It seemed everyone had heard about her car problems and was eager to talk to her. Several mentioned the Grange dance that night and said they’d be looking for her there.
“You’re really going to be impressed with the library,” Kate promised as they walked the two streets over to Maple. “Dad and the others worked hard to get the levy passed so we could build it. People here tend to be tightfisted. Dad says they squeeze a nickel so hard, the buffalo belches.”
Rorie laughed outright at that.
The library was the largest building in town, a sprawling one-story structure with lots of windows. The hours were posted on the double glass doors, and Rorie noted that the library wouldn’t open until the middle of the afternoon, still several hours away.
“It doesn’t seem to be open,” she said, disappointed.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got a key. All the volunteers do.” Kate rummaged in her bag and took out a large key ring. She opened the door, pushing it wide for Rorie to enter first.
“Mrs. Halldorfson retired last year, a month after the building was finished,” Kate told her, flipping on the lights, “and the town’s budget wouldn’t stretch to hire a new full-time librarian. So a number of parents and teachers are taking turns volunteering. We’ve got a workable schedule, unless someone goes on vacation, which, I hate to admit, has been happening all summer.”
“You don’t have a full-time librarian?” Rorie couldn’t disguise her astonishment. “Why go to all the trouble and expense of building a modern facility if you can’t afford a librarian?”
“You’ll have to ask Town Council that,” Kate returned, shrugging. “It doesn’t make much sense, does it? But you see, Mrs. Halldorfson was only part-time and the Council seems to think that’s what her replacement should be.”
“That doesn’t make sense, either.”
“Especially when you consider that the new library is twice the size of the old one.”
Rorie had to bite her tongue to keep from saying more. But she was appalled at the waste, the missed opportunities.
“We’ve been advertising for months for a part-time librarian, but so far we haven’t found anyone interested. Not that I blame them—one look at the size of the job and no one wants to tackle it alone.”
“A library is more than a place to check books in and out,” Rorie said, gesturing dramatically. Her voice rose despite herself. This was an issue close to her heart, and polite silence was practically impossible. “A library can be the heart of a community. It can be a place for classes, community services, all kinds of things. Don’t non-profit organizations use it for meetings?”
“I’m afraid not,” Kate answered. “Everyone gets together at Nellie’s when there’s any kind of meeting. Nellie serves great pies,” she added, as though that explained everything.
Realizing that she’d climbed onto her soapbox, Rorie dropped her hands and shrugged. “It ’s a very nice building, Kate, and you have every reason to be proud. I didn’t mean to sound so righteous.”
“But you’re absolutely correct,” Kate said thoughtfully. “We ’re not using the library to its full potential, are we? Volunteers can only do so much. As it is, the library’s only open three afternoons a week.” She sighed expressively. “To be honest, I think Dad and the other members of the Town Council are expecting Mrs. Halldorfson to come back in the fall, but that’s unfair to her. She’s served the community for over twenty years. She deserves to retire in peace without being blackmailed into coming back because we can’t find a replacement.”
“Well, I hope you find someone soon.”
“I hope so, too,” Kate murmured.
They ate a leisurely lunch, and as she’d promised, Kate gave Rorie a tour of the town. After showing her several churches, the elementary school where she taught second grade and some of the nicer homes on the hill, Kate ended the tour on the outskirts of town near Garner’s Feed and Supply.
“Luke’s here,” Kate said, easing into the parking place next to a dusty pickup truck.
“Luke?”
“Our foreman. I don’t know what Dad would do without him. He runs the ranch and has for years—ever since I was in high school. Dad’s retirement age now, and he’s more than willing to let Luke take charge.”
Kate got out of the car and leaned against the front fender, crossing her arms over her chest. Rorie joined her.
“He’ll be out in a minute,” Kate said.
True to her word, a tall, deeply tanned man appeared with a sack of grain slung over his shoulder. His eyes were so dark they gleamed like onyx, taking in everything around him, but revealing little of his own thoughts. His strong square chin was balanced by a high intelligent brow. He was lean and muscular and strikingly handsome.
“Need any help, stranger?” Kate asked with a laugh.
“You offering?”
“Nope.”
Luke chuckled. “That ’s what I figured. You wouldn’t want to ruin those pretty nails of yours now, wou
ld you?”
“I didn’t stop by to be insulted by you,” Kate chastised, clearly enjoying the exchange. “I wanted you to meet Rorie Campbell—she’s the one Clay was telling us about the other night, whose car broke down.”
“I remember.” For the first time the foreman’s gaze left Kate. He tossed the sack of grain into the back of the truck and used his teeth to tug his glove free from his right hand. Then he presented his long callused fingers to Rorie. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“The pleasure’s mine.” Rorie remembered where she’d heard the name. Skip had mentioned Luke Rivers when he’d told her about the Grange square dance. He’d said something about all the girls being attracted to the foreman. Rorie could understand why.
They exchanged a brief handshake before Luke’s attention slid back to Kate. His eyes softened perceptibly.
“Luke’s like a brother to me,” Kate said fondly.
He frowned at that, but didn’t comment.
“We’re going to let you escort us to the dance tonight,” she informed him.
“What about Clay?”
“Oh, he’ll meet us there. I thought the three of us could go over together.”
Rorie wasn’t fooled. Kate was setting her up with Luke, who didn’t look any too pleased at having his evening arranged for him.
“Kate, listen,” she began, “I’d really rather skip the dance tonight. I’ve never done any square dancing in my life—”
“That doesn’t matter,” Kate interrupted. “Luke will be glad to show you. Won’t you, Luke?”
“Sure,” he mumbled, with the enthusiasm of a man offered the choice between hanging and a firing squad.
“Honestly, Luke!” Kate gave an embarrassed laugh.
“Listen,” Rorie said quickly. “It ’s obvious Luke has his own plans for tonight. I don’t want to intrude—”
He surprised her by turning toward her, his eyes searching hers. “I ’d be happy to escort you, Rorie.”
“I’m likely to step all over your toes…I really think I should sit the whole thing out.”
“Nonsense,” Kate cried. “Luke won’t let you do that and neither will I!”
“We’ll enjoy ourselves,” the foreman said. “Leave everything to me.”
Rorie nodded reluctantly.
A moment of awkward silence fell over the trio. “Well, I suppose I should get Rorie back to Circle L and see about finding her a dress,” Kate said, smiling. She playfully tossed her car keys in the air and caught them deftly.
Luke tipped his hat when they both returned to the car. Rorie didn’t mention his name until they were back on the road.
“Luke really is attractive, isn’t he?” she asked, closely watching Kate.
The other woman nodded eagerly. “It surprises me that he’s not married. There are plenty of girls around Nightingale who’d be more than willing, believe me. At every Grange dance, the ladies flirt with him like crazy. I love to tease him about it—he really hates that. But I wish Luke would get married—I don’t like the idea of him living his life alone. It’s time he thought about settling down and starting a family. He was thirty last month, but when I said something about it, he nearly bit my head off.”
Rorie nibbled on her lower lip. She inhaled a deep breath and released it slowly. Her guess was that Luke Rivers had his heart set on someone special, and that someone was engaged to another man. God help him, Rorie thought. She knew exactly how he felt.
The music was already playing by the time Luke, Kate and Rorie arrived at the Grange Hall in Luke’s ten-year-old four-door sedan. Rorie tried to force some enthusiasm for this outing, but had little success. She hadn’t exchanged more than a few words with the foreman during the entire drive. He, apparently, didn’t like this arranged-date business any better than she did. But they were stuck with each other, and Rorie at least was determined to make the best of it.
They entered the hall and were greeted by the cheery voice of the male caller:
Rope the cow, brand the calf
Swing your sweetheart, once and a half…
Rorie hadn’t known what to expect, but she was surprised by the smooth-stepping, smartly dressed dancers who twirled around the floor following the caller’s directions. She felt more daunted than ever by the evening ahead of her. And to worsen matters, Kate had insisted Rorie borrow one of her outfits. Although Rorie liked the bright blue colors, she felt awkward and self-conscious in the billowing skirts.
The Grange itself was bigger than Rorie had anticipated. On the stage stood the caller and several fiddlers. Refreshment tables lined one wall and the polished dance floor was so crowded Rorie wondered how anyone could move without bumping into others. The entire meeting hall was alive with energy and music, and despite herself, she felt her mood lift. Her toes started tapping out rhythms almost of their own accord. Given time, she’d be out there, too, joining the vibrant, laughing dancers. It was unavoidable, anyway. She knew Kate wouldn’t allow her to sit sedately in the background and watch. Neither would Clay and Skip, who’d just arrived.
“Oh, my feet are moving already.” Kate was squirming with eagerness. Clay smiled indulgently, tucked his arm around her waist and the two of them stepped onto the dance floor. He glanced back once at Rorie, before a circle of eight opened up to admit them.
“Shall we?” Luke asked, eyeing the dance floor.
He didn’t sound too enthusiastic and Rorie didn’t blame him. “Would it be all right if we sat out the first couple of dances?” she asked. “I ’d like to get more into the swing of things.”
“No problem.”
Luke looked almost grateful for the respite, which didn’t lend Rorie much confidence. No doubt he assumed this city slicker was going to make a fool of herself and of him—and she probably would. When he escorted her to the row of chairs, Rorie made the mistake of sitting down. Instantly her skirts leaped up into her face. Embarrassed, she pushed them down, then tucked the material under her thighs in an effort to tame the layers of stiff petticoats.
“Hello, Luke.” A pretty blonde with sparkling blue eyes sauntered over. “I didn’t know if you’d show tonight or not. Glad you did.”
“Beth Hammond, this is Rorie Campbell.”
Rorie nodded. “It ’s nice to meet you, Beth.”
“Oh, I heard about you at the drugstore yesterday. You’re the gal with the broken-down sports car, aren’t you?”
“That’s me.” By now it shouldn’t have surprised Rorie that everyone knew about her troubles.
“I hope everything turns out okay.”
“Thanks.” Although Beth was speaking to Rorie, her eyes didn’t leave Luke. It was patently obvious that she expected an invitation to dance.
“Luke, why don’t you dance with Beth?” Rorie suggested. “That way I’ll gather a few pointers from watching the two of you.”
“What a good idea,” Beth chirped eagerly. “We’ll stay on the outskirts of the crowd so you can see how it’s done. Be sure and listen to Charlie—he’s the caller. Then you’ll see what each step is.”
Rorie nodded agreeably.
Luke gave Rorie a long sober look. “You ’re sure?”
“Positive.”
All join hands, circle right around
Stop in place at your hometown…
Studying the dancers, Rorie quickly picked up the terms do se do, allemande left and allemande right and a number of others, which she struggled to keep track of. By the end of the dance, her foot was tapping out the lively beat of the fiddlers’ music and a smile formed as she listened to the perfectly rhyming words.
“Rorie,” Skip said, suddenly standing in front of her. “May I have the pleasure of this dance?”
“I…I don’t think I’m ready yet.”
“Nonsense.” Without listening to her protest, he grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet.
“Skip, I’ll embarrass you,” she protested in a low whisper. “I ’ve never done this before.”
&nbs
p; “You’ve got to start sometime.” He tucked his arm around her waist and led her close to the stage.
“We got a newcomer, Charlie,” Skip called out, “so make this one simple.”
Charlie gave Skip a thumbs-up and reached for the microphone. “We ’ll go a bit slower this time,” Charlie announced to his happy audience. “Miss Rorie Campbell from San Francisco has joined us and it’s her first time on the floor.”
Rorie wanted to curl up and die as a hundred faces turned to stare at her. But the dancers were shouting and cheering their welcome and Rorie shyly raised her hand, smiling into the crowd.
Getting through that first series of steps was the most difficult, but soon Rorie was in the middle of the floor, stepping and twirling—and laughing. Something she’d always assumed to be a silly, outdated activity turned out to be great fun.
By the time Skip led her back to her chair, she was breathless. “Want some punch?” he asked. Rorie nodded eagerly. Her throat felt parched.
When Skip left her, Luke Rivers appeared at her side. “You did just great,” he said sincerely.
“For a city girl, you mean,” she teased.
“As good as anyone.”
“Thanks.”
“I suspect I owe you an apology, Rorie.”
“Because you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself with me on the dance floor?” she asked with a light laugh. “That ’s understandable. Kate and Clay practically threw me in your lap. I’m sure you had other plans for tonight, and I’m sorry for your sake that we got stuck with each other.”
Luke grinned. “Trust me, I’ve had plenty of envious looks from around the room. Any of a dozen different men would be more than happy to be ‘stuck’ with you.”
That went a long way toward boosting her ego. She would have commented, but Skip came back just then carrying a paper cup filled with bright pink punch. A teenage girl was beside him, clutching his free arm and smiling dreamily up at him.
Country Brides Page 7
