Cary looked at Vivi. “You’ll have more than enough to take some home for later. One roll usually lasts me three meals.”
Vivi felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “I thought I’d take one home to Byron.”
“Byron has a big sweet tooth. Take him one of these and you’ll have a friend for life.”
CHAPTER SIX
Byron knew trouble when he saw it—or heard it. Ever since Cary had mentioned the Harvest Dance, he’d made himself scarce. It was just an innocent remark, made at dinner one night, but Byron noticed the look in her eye.
He’d watched a few years ago when Cary had played matchmaker to Pansy and Kade. Despite his doubts, the Cary-orchestrated romance had turned out okay, but Pansy and Kade had a history. Byron didn’t want or need a history with anyone.
He paused by the gate and zipped up his jacket. The weather had turned from warm late fall to chilly early winter in the space of a couple of days. He rode the four-wheeler through the pasture, checking cattle. While he worked, his thoughts wandered back to what he was sure was Cary’s plan.
He almost felt sorry for her.
Byron didn’t dance. He’d never liked the crowds or trying to make small talk with the girls he’d been forced to ask out by either his mother or well-meaning friends. The only time he’d enjoyed himself was when he’d taken his brother as his date.
Watching Milty wave his arms as he swayed to the music always made him smile. Milty enjoyed everything. A few different people had dared to laugh at his brother. One look from Byron, and they’d not only quit snickering, they’d joined in the dance.
After setting out salt blocks and making sure the pairs they’d gathered were where they were supposed to be, he headed for home, once again, missing Chase’s company. The barn came into view. He’d have to be careful to stay out of sight until the others left for the dance.
He parked the four-wheeler below the hill and snuck up to the back door of the barn. With everyone else getting ready, he figured he’d be safe spending a few minutes feeding the kittens.
He’d scooped kibble into the bowl set high on the ledge in the tack room. A few weeks ago, he’d made a ramp so the cats could get up but the dogs couldn’t. At the sound of the scoop, the three kittens came running. The little calico had gotten over her initial fear and now was his buddy.
She crawled up his leg then climbed his shirt and settled on his shoulder. “Hey, Camo. How’s my mouse killing machine?”
As he stroked the kitten’s soft fur, he heard footsteps in the barn aisle. And him without an escape route.
Cary stuck her head in the door. “Aww, they are so cute.” She scooped up the gray kitten he’d named Stormy and cuddled him to her chest. “I saved you some dinner.”
“Thanks, Cary, but I’m going to eat in town tonight.” He hadn’t been going to do that, but there was no way was he hanging around.
“Oh, you’re going to the dance.” The kitten began furiously wiggling, and Cary bent to sit the little thing on the ground.
Byron heaved a sigh. If he handled this right, maybe he’d convince Cary to leave him alone. “No.”
She stopped and tilted her head as if she was thinking. “You can come with Micah and I. Vivi will feel less like a third wheel with someone else there.”
“Aw, Cary. I—”
“Please, Byron. You don’t have to stay all night. Just for an hour or so. Please.”
And what the hell was he supposed to do with that. Cary had gathered him up and become a friend when he’d needed one. She didn’t ask favors very often. She usually respected his boundaries, especially when he’d made the boundaries very plain. “I don’t like to dance.”
“I know. You don’t have to. Just talk to Vivi for a while and maybe introduce her to a few friends.”
“You know I don’t have any friends.” Byron thought that might get through to the woman.
Her face brightened. “Wonderful. Then she’ll give you someone to talk to at the dance, too. Thanks, Byron. You’re the best.” And she was gone. Just like that. Before he could convince her this wasn’t the best idea.
The conversation run through his head again as he tried to figure out where he’d lost the battle. With a sigh, he stood.
He could do an hour.
If he took his truck, he could stay just long enough to be polite then let Vivi ride home with Micah and Cary. It wouldn’t hurt him to spend an hour talking to the townspeople, and he hadn’t seen Pansy all summer. With his hours at the ranch and Pansy’s at the café, they didn’t have much time to socialize.
He’d been wrong before. About not having friends. He and Pansy had become friends when she’d come to town three years ago, mainly because they were both a little different, and they didn’t have expectations about being anything more.
Byron had been dubious when Kade had first come back into Pansy’s life, but Kade seemed to really love her. Good thing, too. He could beat the shit out of that little bronc rider.
He headed for the bungalow.
The clock said almost eight. He threaded his horsehair belt through the loops on his pressed Wranglers then pulled on his best boots. Why he was going to all this trouble, he didn’t know. Digging his good hat out of the box he kept it in, he settled the black felt on his head just as someone knocked on the door.
The vision that stood on the doorstep—Vivi in a full length, body-hugging purple dress and heels—took his breath away. He’d been expecting jeans and boots. There was something to be said for being a city girl.
Her hair hung in loose curls to below her shoulders and for the first time since he’d met her, she had jewelry, lots of jewelry. An antique squash blossom necklace circled her slender neck and every bracelet that had ever been made lined her wrists. At least it looked that way to Byron. Engraved silver earrings graced her ears, and three large silver and turquoise rings were on her fingers. When she moved, everything tinkled.
“Ready to go?” She gave a shimmy and did a twirl. “I don’t know how to do these western dances, well, any dances, but I can’t wait for you to teach me.”
Byron didn’t dance. He should have stopped her right there, and told her to find another teacher but his tongue was pasted to the roof of his mouth. His brain had stalled, and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes from bugging out of his head.
Grabbing his coat from the hook by the door, he spent the seconds it took to shrug his arms into the sleeves attempting to do something he normally did on auto-pilot. Think!
When they’d gotten to the pickup, Byron opened the passenger door.
Vivi studied the interior, glanced at him then tried to hike her skirt high enough to modestly climb in. Without running boards, there was no way.
“Could you turn your back, please?” She twirled her finger and gave him an embarrassed grin.
“Turn my back?”
She pointed at her skirt. “The only way I can climb in is if I pull this up to my waist.” She faced the truck and started working her skirt up her legs.
Although Byron would have liked to watch the show, he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Let me help.” Wrapping his hands around her waist, he lifted her onto the seat.
Their faces were even, her lips just inches away. He hesitated and before he could decide whether to give in to his desire to kiss her, she leaned in and kissed him. “Thanks.”
The touch was soft and light, more of a feathering across his lips, but he wanted more, with a craving that shocked him. He leaned into her, breathing in the sweet scent that was Vivi, and brushed his lips across hers. If he kept this up, they’d never make it to the dance. With dogged determination, he dropped his arms, stepped away and closed the truck door.
The feel of her lips had his mind doing cartwheels, and he forced himself to concentrate on turning the key, putting the truck into gear and driving toward East Hope.
While he kept quiet, Vivi chattered non-stop, giving him nervous glances from time to time. On
the north edge of town, a warm yellow light glowed from the Grange Hall windows, and the parking lot was filled to overflowing. The nearest spot was in front of Foodtown several blocks away.
He parked and turned toward Vivi.
She had her knit shawl wrapped tight around her shoulders. Shivers shook her body.
“I’m an idiot.” She pointed one pink tipped finger at her this dress. “The weather was so warm today I didn’t realize it would cool off so quickly. It’ll be warmer inside, won’t it?”
Byron jumped out of the truck, hurried around to the passenger door. He slipped out of his jacket and settled it around Vivi’s shoulders.
“Won’t you be cold?” She tried to slide it off and hand it back, but he tugged it back into place and buttoned the top button.
“I’m used to this.” He helped her down, keeping his hands at her waist a moment longer than needed. He could smell her citrus scent and feel her warmth. For the second time tonight, if he didn’t move his mind on to other things—like the way she’d change if they became serious—they might not make it to the dance at all.
Byron stepped back, but she reached out and threaded her fingers through his, then led him toward the dance.
~-~
Golden light, country music and laughter poured through the open doors of the East Hope Grange Hall. The sound of voices was barely discernable over the guitars and drums.
“I’ve never been to a dance, let alone one where the whole town joined in. I couldn’t wait. Byron held back, but in her excitement, she pulled him toward the faded clapboard building.
When she stopped short in the doorway, Byron bumped into her, but she didn’t move or apologize. She leaned back into his strength, and he stifled the desire to wrap his arms around her waist.
“That looks hard.” She glanced at Byron over her shoulder. “The dancing. Can you do that?”
“I can. I don’t.”
“Ah, you choose not to. I understand that.” Then she took his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor.
At that moment, the music changed from a Texas Two-step to She’s Everything by Brad Paisley. Paisley had never been Byron’s number one choice for artist of the year, but with Vivi swaying to the music, the song just became his new favorite.
Smiling, she moved closer and wrapped her arms around his neck. As she swayed to the beat of the music, he froze. She tipped back her head enough to see his eyes. “You just stand here, and I’ll try to figure this out myself.” Then she laid her head against his chest.
He’d warned her he didn’t dance. If he stood like a statue, maybe she’d get the hint and go find someone else to bother, but the thought of Vivi dancing with one of the other men made his lungs clench. He didn’t like to dance, and that was a fact, but standing in the corner watching Vivi in someone else’s arms was not going to happen.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and let the music carry him away. The song ended too soon, and he held her waiting for the music to start up again.
Damn local band. When Dusty Reynolds, the lead singer of Call Me Country, called for a break, Byron could have strangled him.
Vivi took a step back, taking all her sweet scented warmth with her. “Want to get something to drink?”
As if he had any choice. “Sure. Lemonade or tea?”
She ducked her head and looked at him from beneath her lashes. “Anything is fine with me.”
As they crossed the floor to where the local Baptist ladies had set up a table with soft drinks and cookies, Carl, one of Micah’s other employees, stopped him. “We got a bottle of Fireball outside. Want some?”
Vivi turned her attention to Carl and smiled. “What’s Fireball?”
Carl stammered before he got control of his tongue.
Byron knew the feeling well.
“Well, well, it’s cinnamon whiskey, ma’am.” Carl turned to Byron. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were with Miss Vivi.”
Carl looked at Byron and took a step back. “Not right now, Carl.”
Vivi put her hand on Byron’s chest. “I’ve never tried that. Could we?”
He had the reputation of being the toughest man on the Circle W, even though he’d never once resorted to violence. All anyone ever had to do was put this woman in front of him, and he became a total wuss.
“Are you sure you don’t want lemonade?”
“I’ve had lemonade and tea. I’d love to try the Fireball.” She took his hand and ran her thumb over the back. “Unless you don’t want to. I can try it another time.”
Carl moved closer to Vivi and pointed toward the door. “Come on with me for a moment. We’ll find Byron when we come back.”
Byron didn’t drink much. He’d learned years ago he was uncomfortable being out of control, but no way was he letting Vivi go outside by herself. He put his arm around her shoulder and followed Carl out the door. Just off to the side stood a group of men and women, all of whom he knew.
“Hey, By-ron.” The man dragged out his name into several beats. Ronnie Snap was an ass. He’d tried to ride bucking horses at the small local rodeos. Byron had never seen him make eight, but Ronnie played up the rodeo cowboy part. “You didn’t make it to practice last Thursday—again. You really have become a hermit.”
Byron ignored him and led Vivi to the other side of the group.
As usual, Ronnie couldn’t take a hint. “And who is this? She’s much too pretty to hang around with a ranch hand.”
Vivi looked at Byron, confusion written across her face.
Micah stood from where he’d leaned against the battered Chevy truck. “Ranch hand?”
Ronnie looked at Micah and laughed. “You’re the owner so you don’t count, but everyone knows the only guys who work on ranches are the ones who can’t make it riding bucking horses.” No one had ever accused Ronnie of being smart.
When Micah went to step forward, Byron waved him away. He tightened his grip on Vivi’s hand and turned to go back inside the building. He could crush this idiot with both hands tied behind his back, but it wasn’t worth it. His size had nothing to do with the person he’d become.
As they reached the door, Vivi wiggled her hand loose and turned back to Ronnie. “I thought I recognized you.”
Ronnie’s chest puffed out like an overfilled balloon. “You saw me ride?”
Vivi’s smile would have melted chocolate, and she tapped her cheek with her finger. “No, I haven’t been to a rodeo yet. You’re the guy who took Cary’s groceries to the truck the other day. You work for Millie, right?”
The crowd erupted in laughter, and Byron leaned against the wall of the grange hall to watch the show.
“What is it that Millie calls you?” Vivi smiled at Ronnie like they were best friends. Giggles from the others got louder the longer Ronnie didn’t answer.
“Dumb ass,” Millie said as she made her way through the parked cars toward the group. “It’s my pet name for him.”
Ronnie’s face flushed red. Without another word, he hurried through the parked cars, away from the crowd.
Vivi brought a cup of amber liquid over to where Byron stood. He liked watching her move. She should have been a dancer. Maybe she was. He’d never asked.
“This is a great beverage. So warming.” She took another sip then held out the cup to him.
“You know what else is?” Then he uttered a word he thought he’d never say to a woman. “Dancing.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Vivi opened her eyes to the bright reds and blues of a Pendleton blanket hanging on the wall. Rough wood shiplap paneling rose to meet log beams. The flickering of flames from the wood stove danced shadows across the walls and gave the room an otherworldly feel.
She rolled to her back, waited a second for the room to stop spinning then took in her surroundings. A handmade wedding ring quilt on the twin bed she was snuggled into was done in shades of brown and tan with a splash of turquoise here and there.
Hefted herself onto her elbows, she made sure not t
o aggravate the pounding in her head. This was Byron’s house, but Byron wasn’t here. She dropped back down, trying to bring the evening before into focus.
The one dance she’d had with Byron had been magical. She’d met several new friends and one jerk, enjoyed the cinnamon whiskey. After that things got a bit blurry. She had a vague memory of Cary asking if she was all right. The memory of Byron carrying her to the truck must have been a dream.
What the hell was in that stuff anyway?
Things were coming back now. She didn’t remember the drive home, but remembered Byron lifting her out of the truck. The air had been icy, and she’d welcomed the warmth of his arms around her. “The house is locked, and I’m not sure when Micah and Cary will be home.”
“I can sleep in the truck. I’m not that cold.” She was, but she’d have been fine if Byron had wrapped her in his coat.
“Close your eyes. I’ve got a better idea.”
The chill of the night air had brushed against her skin as she snuggled deeper into Byron’s arms. A girl could get used to this. “You’re pretty strong, you know.”
Byron had tightened his grip as he mounted the steps to his cabin. The door clicked shut, closing out the wind, and the heat from the pot-bellied stove licked at her skin.
He’d put her in his bed, leaning down to brush her hair off her face, and that was her last memory until this morning.
Faint streaks of light outlined the hills to the east. Vivi untangled her long skirt from around her legs and sat up, taking an extra moment to give her brain time to stop spinning.
A small kitchen was nestled in one corner. A door to what must be the bathroom was on the other wall. Washing her face and rinsing her mouth out did wonders for how she felt.
Just as she finished pulling Byron’s comb through her tangled hair, the door opened and a gust of cold air accompanied him into the house.
What was she supposed to say to a man she’d spent the night with? Sure, nothing happened, she was sure of that, but she’d never been in this situation before. “So how long did we stay at the dance?”
Cowboy's Sweetheart (Sugar Coated Cowboys Book 3) Page 5
