by Vivian Arend
“He did not!” Hope slapped a hand over her mouth before looking totally embarrassed. “I’m sorry. He should know better.”
Nope. No matter how hard Becky tried she couldn’t keep a straight face. “I’m kidding. Matt didn’t say anything other than ask if he could talk to you.”
Hope planted her fists on her hips and mock-glared, a smile twisting her lips. “You’ve been hanging out with Trevor too long. He’s the biggest tease, and you’re learning bad habits.”
“Trevor’s amazing,” Becky said, shocked at how breathlessly satisfied she sounded. “And so are you, thank you for this.” She waved the envelope containing her salary in the air for a moment before tucking it into her purse.
“You’ve been a big help. I’m glad you’re working here, and I’ll be even more glad in the months to come.” Hope lowered her feet from the stool where she’d had them propped up, rising slowly to vertical and stretching her lower back. “I don’t feel bad, but I do feel pregnant. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like once my stomach is bigger than muffin-top size.”
“My sister said for her the biggest challenge in the last trimester was to try not to get overtired. It’s harder to get caught up, if that makes sense.”
Hope nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t have any family to ask what my mom’s pregnancies were like, so I’m going in blind here.”
Over the past couple of days Becky had begun to talk about Sarah more, which was wonderful, but made missing her all the stronger. “If I ever have kids, I’d probably get frustrated if my pregnancies are way different than hers, so I figure generalities are best. For the rest, see what happens.”
“That’s a good way to look at it,” Hope agreed, “It’s nice that you’re close to your sister. I wish I was closer to mine, but that’s never going to be possible.”
“People change,” Becky said letting optimism and hope colour her voice. “Who knows what might happen?” She got up to greet a customer who’d come in the door, and the conversation faded.
Concern struck briefly at the end of the day when she looked up to find an RCMP officer striding though the door, at least until she recognized the woman.
“Anna.” Hope moved forward. “Tell me you want to learn how to quilt and blow my mind.”
Trevor’s sister made a rude noise. “Sorry, sweetie. I know you’ve seduced most of the clan over to your evil side, but the domestic arts and me stopped getting along sometime back in the tenth grade. If I can’t fix it with duct tape or a stapler, it’s not worth fixing.”
Hope held up her fingers in the shape of a cross as if warding off evil. “You just wait. You gonna wake up one morning and the nesting instinct will kick in. The next thing you know, you’ll be wearing prairie dresses and canning pickles.”
“When pigs fly in space ships,” Anna said sweetly before turning to Becky. “I’m here with something for you.”
“For me?”
Anna pulled a legal-sized envelope from under her coat and held it forward. “Whoever you got to help you was damn smart. I’m very pleased to present you with an official copy of your birth certificate.”
It was suddenly hard to breathe. Becky reached to accept the envelope, her hand shaking and her knees unsteady. She used her free hand to clutch the cutting-board counter next to her for support. “What—?”
“You got your new ID,” Hope said excitedly. “That’s great news.”
It was hard to believe, but it was true. Becky opened the envelope and peeked inside, pulling out a large rectangular paper to stare at the names in shocked disbelief.
Rebekah Hall. Born: Joyful, Manitoba. Her parents’ names. Her birthday.
Hope leaned over her shoulder to read as well. “Rebekah. That’s a pretty way to spell it, but I like calling you Becky more.”
“I like being Becky,” she confessed, turning back to Anna. “I didn’t expect anything to come to the RCMP. Thank you for bringing it to me.”
Anna nodded. “It’s one of the safest channels, and I’d guess the lawyer you used wanted to make sure everything arrived properly.”
“This doesn’t mean you have her on a police file, or anything?” Hope asked.
“Oh, no. Just means at some point the RCMP were used as a step in gathering the information to prove that you exist, which you obviously do.” Anna hesitated before admitting, “I vouched for you. That you’re living here, and a productive member of the community.”
The sensation of intense gratitude was easy to diagnose. “Thank you for that, and yet I’m sorry I got you involved. I hope it wasn’t a bother.”
“Not at all. If you need help, I’m available,” Anna offered. “Now, the next steps are for you to take that and get the rest of the resources you need. Health card, photo ID, driver’s license, social insurance number.”
“Library card,” Hope teased.
Her mind was spinning. Becky clutched the envelope to her chest. “Thank you,” she said again.
“You’re the one who has to fill in all the government forms.” Anna adjusted her coat, preparing to leave. “You may not be thanking me after the first hour or two of that.”
Becky didn’t care how much work it was. This was as good as a miracle.
Hope glanced at the clock. “You’re not going to get any work done this afternoon. Why don’t you go and start some of that paperwork? You can apply for photo ID at the insurance office. If you go now, you might have it before the end of the week.”
“I’ll give you a ride over,” Anna offered.
Which was how Becky found herself filling out paperwork and shoved in front of a camera and told not to smile. Before the flashbulb glare had faded completely from her vision, she was handed a plastic card with her picture and birthdate.
She damn near danced home.
A heavy knock sounded on the back door an instant before Trevor’s voice echoed through the house. “Can I come in?”
Becky met him in the kitchen. “Usually people wait for an answer before—”
—and then she was squealing because he’d snatched her off her feet and was twirling them both in a circle. His arms strong and confident around her as he laughed, settling her on the floor and giving her a brief kiss before looking into her eyes expectantly.
“So? Where’s this shiny thing that happened to you today?”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out her ID. “How did you know?”
Trevor held her hand in his as they looked the card over. “You’re kidding me, right? The Coleman gossip chain carries news at one notch past the speed of light.”
Didn’t even matter that she hadn’t been the one to tell him. “I can’t believe it.”
He squeezed his fingers, pressing hers to the hard plastic. “That’s real, Rodeo. It’s right there in black and white and bad government photo, although you look a hell of a lot cuter than anyone else I know.”
“I still have a lot to do. I had to get all the things that Hope needs for work, and I want to practice before I try taking the driver’s test, and then I need—”
“But first,” Trevor said, tugging her toward the stairs, “we celebrate. Because that’s what we do when good things happen.”
She wasn’t sure where this was leading. “What kind of celebrating we going to do, Trevor Coleman?”
Trevor patted her on the butt then sent her up the stairs alone. “Why Becky Hall, I’m shocked. Did you think I was suggesting we go get into some wild and unruly shenanigans?”
Shenanigans sounded fine to her. She paused mid-flight, hand on the railing. “You aren’t?”
“I meant, you need to go put on a pretty dress so I can take you out.” He leaned forward and glanced up at her, temptation and mischief mixed together on his face. “We’ll grab some supper then go to Traders Pub, now that you have a shiny ID saying that you’re legal.”
It was impossible to take his gaze off her.
Becky glowed.
Instead of a dress she’d pulled on jeans
and a blouse that showed off her curves and gave him all sorts of ideas. They’d grabbed burgers and fries at the café before making the short trip over to Traders. She stood next to him at the pub entrance, her smile stretching from ear to ear.
“I’ve never been to a pub,” she confessed.
“I figured. Traders is a good one. Bunch of the family will be here since it’s Friday night. Less than a few years ago—some don’t come out every week anymore. But for the most part, this is where anyone in the clan who’s single can be found most Friday nights.”
They were there, in the midst of the noise and bustle, but it was easy to see where Becky wanted to head. Familiar faces turned toward them in the crowd, Rachel waving excitedly, Lee rising to his feet to pull in another couple chairs on the side of the long table away from the rest of the clan.
“It’s noisy in here,” Becky noted as he guided her forward.
He settled in the chair next to her, grabbing two glasses and filling them with beer from the nearest pitcher. “A few weeks from now we can have a bonfire,” he promised. “Steve plays his guitar, but otherwise it’s a lot less chaos. You’ll enjoy that too.”
“Hope and Matt told me they needed some deadfall moved,” Lee mentioned. “We could spend a few hours cleaning up around their place then have a hot dog roast.”
“Sounds good.” Trevor watched with amusement as Becky took the first sip of her drink, her face twisting and nose wrinkling up. “I forgot. Is that your first beer?”
She shook her head as she placed the glass carefully back on the table surface. “I tried some about a month ago, but this tastes different.”
“It’s a local brew.” He laid an arm along the back of her chair, moving in close enough that their thighs touched. “You want something else? You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.”
“Maybe just a pop,” she admitted, pushing the glass away.
Rachel had overheard. “I have an idea. One sec.”
She popped up from her chair and headed to the bar, coming back with a can of Sprite and a clean glass. She poured the glass half-full with Becky’s beer, then topped it up the rest of the way with Sprite.
Becky took the drink cautiously, but she seemed willing. And after the first taste she nodded. “That’s much better.”
“That’s called a Shandy.” Rachel leaned around her to offer a snarky grin to Trevor. “Sad for you. She likes my drinks better than yours.”
“Yeah? I bet she’ll like the way I dance better than the way you do,” he teased back.
“Hey, I know how to lead.” Beside her, Lee snickered, glancing away innocently when Rachel twirled on him, poking him in the stomach with her finger. “What’s that noise supposed to mean, bucko?”
“I don’t know how to dance,” Becky admitted, interrupting Rachel’s pretend assault on Lee, “but I’d like to learn.” She turned trusting eyes on Trevor who felt about ten feet tall at that moment.
“Then dancing it is.” He tipped his chin toward her drink. “Take that with you. We’ll head to the dance floor and take a look.”
He waved goodbye to the rest of the family, accepting with good humour the few teasing smirks that were tossed at them for leaving right after sitting down. They’d visit another time. Now? Becky wanted to dance.
Rachel and Lee grabbed their drinks as well, and the four of them made their way from the bar to the dance floor, volume rising as they rounded the corner.
It was early enough in the summer season the place was busy without being packed, and they found an empty table at the side of the dance floor. One of the tall ones without chairs, a place to stand and talk between time spent on the floor.
Trevor liked that it meant he could curl himself around Becky and stand close while he spoke in her ear. “For tonight’s dance lesson, we’ll focus on basic moves.”
She wiggled against him, and he reacted instantly, the feeling of her all soft and warm against him setting off the sexual tension between them that never seemed to completely go away.
Becky leaned back against his chest, tilting her head so she could speak toward his ear and not shout to be heard over the music. “Doesn’t look that hard, what they’re doing on the floor right now.”
“That’s not dancing,” Trevor whispered against her cheek. “That’s standing around bouncing.”
“Isn’t that what Tiggers do?”
A laugh escaped. “Some of the time, but not when I’ve got a pretty girl I can hold in my arms. That’s why dancing was invented in the first place, you know. It’s a way to get close to someone you wanted to get close to without leaving the room.”
She took another couple sips of her drink, and her cheeks were bright red as she turned toward him, slipping her arms up and threading her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. “You’re telling me it’s like sex, but in public?”
Another deep shot of lust struck. “You’re a live wire tonight, Rodeo.”
She licked her lips, staring at his mouth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Lee was grinning at them, and Rachel as well. Probably planning already to harass him about how totally gone he was, but he didn’t care. Guiding Becky out onto the dance floor and getting to curl his hands around her hips and bring their torsos together was worth any kind of teasing he might have to put up with.
“Dancing is about listening,” he instructed her.
Becky dipped her head in agreement. “The music. Staying with the beat.”
Trevor slipped a hand higher, pressing it to her lower back, slowing them down. “Forget the music.”
She tipped her head back to look at him with confusion. “Really? But I thought music was important.”
“Not as important as this.” He caught her fingers of her right hand and lifted them in the air, tucking her in closer and swaying their bodies together. Their feet moving in time with the music, yes, but more importantly, with the rising beat of his heart.
They weren’t trying anything fancy. There was no footwork or hijinks to trip them up. Instead they had heat, bodies in alignment. Her lips close against his neck as he guided her back-and-forth in an easy rhythm that just happened to coincide with the beat of the music.
“This is nice,” Becky said softly, barely a whisper compared to the singer in the music, but he heard every word.
He was so tuned in to the motion of their bodies, to the way that when he stepped forward, his leg rubbed between hers, his thigh settled tight against her softness. He turned his head and their lips met for a kiss. Sweet enough for public display, yet hot enough sweat ran down his spine, and anticipation took him from semi-hard to rock solid.
He’d only go the speed she wanted—he’d made that commitment and he was sticking to it, but the way she pushed forward eagerly, he wasn’t taking things too fast for her.
Listening. It was easy to do when the sounds were there, even with the riot of noise around them. Arousal and desire sang loudly as needy noises escaped her throat, breathy exhales and tiny gasps as they danced. He kept her turned toward the back wall so that no one else could enjoy the expression of pleasure rising on her face. That was for him. His eyes only.
They stayed on the dance floor, rocking together. It was like she’d said—damn near foreplay in public—until the music changed again.
The heavy beat called for something more active, and he forced himself to drag them apart, putting them into a more just friends position and showing her how to two-step.
Because she needed to know more than how turned on she could make him.
The evening flew by. Trevor took Rachel for a spin when Lee demanded his chance to dance with Becky, and she agreed.
It was a strange sensation, watching someone else take her in his arms. The first sign of discomfort from Becky and Trevor would’ve been there in an instant to rescue her, but he trusted Lee implicitly, and it was good for her to know how to dance with other partners.
“She’s not about to vanish,�
�� Rachel teased, letting him lead her across the dance floor. “She’s having fun.”
“I think so.” He glanced down at the woman who would eventually be his sister-in-law. “She likes you. A lot, and I’m glad.”
“Awww, well, I like her too.” Rachel looked thoughtful. “I don’t know all her secrets, and I don’t need to, but if you guys ever need someone to talk to, we got your back. Lee and I.”
Didn’t need to be said, but he was glad that she had. “You’re family. Of course you got my back.”
“Except during girls’ night out,” Rachel qualified. “That night is free-for-all, and we are dirt-talking you boys so hard your ears will burn.”
Jeez. The Coleman women on the loose—a disaster waiting to happen. “You’re going to be careful, right? Don’t get too wild.”
Rachel widened her eyes in shock. “Look at you being all straight-laced and cautious. Don’t worry, we won’t play white rabbit, or make any prank phone calls.”
“Those went out of style once people got call display.” Trevor kept his face absolutely blank.
A deadly glare hit him hard. “That better not be some crack about how old I am, buster.”
He gave her an extra-fast twirl, moving them toward where Lee and Becky were dancing. “I’m just as old as you,” he said, “now go torment my baby brother. I’ll take care of Becky.”
They switched dance partners in the middle of the floor, Becky settling in against him like she belonged there.
“Did you have fun?”
She nodded. “You’re right, though. Dancing is about listening. Lee is a good dancer, but I think we fit together better.”
A dirty image of them fitting together intimately flashed through his brain, and he had to take a deep breath to regain control. “I think we’re going to fit together just fine,” he assured her, lips against her cheek.
They stayed for one more song before he brought her to the truck, and headed out of town with the stereo playing and the windows rolled down.
Becky curled her hands around his biceps. “Where are we going now?”
“For a drive.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled in tight. “It’s been a good night.”
