They headed for the kitchen at the same time, but they both were careful not to touch or even look at the other one. She reached for a bowl of squash with her left hand and a plate of steaming hot biscuits with her right. Her right hand brushed against Harper’s arm and not one single little fizzle of a spark danced across the floor. The fingertips on her left hand barely touched Trace’s as he reached for the same bowl of squash and something akin to lightning bolts lit up the whole kitchen.
He jerked his hand back and asked, “You ready to talk?”
“Are you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Then we’ll wait another day,” she said.
“Putting it off so you don’t have to own up to the truth?” he asked.
“I’ll talk anytime you want to. I’m not putting off anything. But I wouldn’t even want to talk to St. Peter right now. I’m hungry and when I get hungry I get real cranky. Granny calls it my Jesus mood. She says even Jesus couldn’t live with me when I’m hungry. So it would not be a good time to test my mettle, cowboy.”
“My name is Trace,” he growled.
“Cowboy. Trace. It doesn’t matter if it’s Donald Duck. You better let me eat before we get into this talk,” she said.
“Tomorrow is early enough.”
“Are you playing games with me?” she asked on the way to the table with him so close to her side that she could smell his cologne.
“I could ask you the same question,” he answered.
“If you two don’t stop talking and get that food over here, we’re starting without you,” Harper singsonged.
Gemma heard Jessie giggle, but she didn’t look toward the table.
Chapter 11
Carly tossed an old magazine in front of Gemma and pointed to a picture of a movie star wearing a fancy ball gown. Her hair was swept up in a slick twist with a riot of curls on the top of her head.
“Where’d this come from?” Gemma asked.
“I got it out of the trash last year and I brought it with me. That’s what I want to look like tonight,” she said.
“Honey, I don’t sew and if I did I couldn’t make a dress like that in five hours,” Gemma said.
“I’m not talking about the dress. I want my hair to do that and I want to borrow some of your makeup. I’ll wear my green sundress for the dance, but I want to be pretty and you are a hairdresser. You said so. And I bet you know how to put on makeup, too.”
The other nine girls gathered round to see what Carly wanted to look like.
Deanna held up her hands. “And fingernails. Can you do a French manicure? I always wanted one of them, but do you know how much they charge at the mall to do your nails like that?”
“Please!” Jessie begged. “We’ll help. Just tell us what to do.”
“Okay,” Gemma agreed. “The end of the craft table will be our beauty shop. First we’ll do nails, then hair, and finally makeup.”
“What do we do first?” Katy asked.
“You will all take a shower and wash your hair. Pay attention to dirt under your nails and toenails. We might as well do both while we’re at it. Princesses or cowgirls, neither one go to the ranch dance with nasty toenails. Carly, Deanna, Katy, Angie, and Jessie, you all go to the showers first. The rest of you clear off the craft table. Move all the excess paint and decorations onto the cabinet. I’ll get out the curling iron, nail polish, and hair spray while you do that.”
She checked the clock. Ten girls in five hours would be pushing the time frame, but she could do it if they all pitched in and helped.
Fiona jumped off her bunk and started to work. “What do you want me to do with our craft boxes?”
“Put them on the kitchen table. We won’t be needing night snacks since we’ll be coming home from the party late. Beth, you come with me and help me carry stuff,” Gemma called over her shoulder.
She handed Beth the cosmetic case and looked seriously at the big tub. Five girls at a time could soak their feet in bath salts in that thing if the sides were flat enough for them to sit on, but they weren’t.
“What are you thinking about? You got this weird look on your face,” Beth said.
“I’m trying to figure out something to use as a foot bath. Before we do toes we need to soak your feet and lotion them up so they’ll be all pretty,” Gemma answered.
Beth opened the cabinets under the sink and pointed. “We got one of them in our bathroom too. Carly says that it’s a puke bucket, but Jessie said it’s for mopping up the floors. We could use them both and do two at a time.”
Gemma hugged her.
“You are a genius,” she said.
Beth blushed. “Will you tell my momma that?”
“Anytime, darlin’.” Gemma grabbed the bucket and turned on the water in her bathtub. She adjusted the temperature, threw a handful of bath salts into the bucket, and filled it with warm water.
“Want me to bring the other one in here?”
“Did you see what I just did?” Gemma asked.
Beth nodded.
“I want you to do the same thing. Set that case in my bedroom and your next job is to fix another bucket of water.”
Gemma carried the bucket to the table and met Carly coming out of the bathroom. Her head was wrapped in a towel and another one was tucked around her body. “What do I put on? My nightshirt?”
Gemma nodded. “That’s fine until it’s time for hair and then you will wear one of my snap-front Western shirts so that your hair doesn’t get messed up when you pull the shirt off.”
Carly looked at the bucket of water. “What is that for?”
“To soak your feet. I told you that we’re doing pedicures too. Put your feet in it while I do your nails and then we’ll work on your toes,” Gemma explained.
Carly sat down, stuck her feet into the bucket, and splayed her fingers out on the table in front of Gemma.
“That water feels soft on my feet,” Carly said.
“It’s bath salts,” Gemma explained.
“Who gets this one?” Beth asked.
“Angie,” Gemma said. “When Carly is done, Angie will be next. Someone will take Carly’s bucket to my bathroom and dump the water in the tub. Beth will show you how to do the next one. When it’s her turn then someone else can take over.”
Gemma was filing Carly’s broken uneven nails when Fiona led the last five out of the bathroom and they all settled into their chairs.
“While I do this you can pick out your polish. Whatever you pick out for your nails goes on your toenails too. And I do have a few jewels so you can each choose some for your big toenails,” Gemma said.
“Pink, red, blue, or purple.” Carly touched each bottle. “I want blue because my green dress has big blue flowers and I want diamonds on my toenails.”
“You other girls be deciding,” Gemma said. “We don’t have time for hum-hawing around.”
“What’s hum-hawing?” Jessie asked.
“That’s like not being able to make up your mind,” Angie told her.
“Well, there ain’t none of that hum-crap for me. I want pink and I want them red stars on my toes,” Jessie said.
Gemma had made a trip into town on Wednesday to pick up a few more supplies for their craft project and on the way back she’d passed a dollar store. She needed a package of emery boards and hair spray and while she was in the cosmetic aisle she noticed the fingernail polish. She’d bought each of her girls a small bottle of fingernail polish, a tube of flavored lip gloss, and a fingernail file. After a whole week of making the boxes it seemed only fitting that they find a surprise when they opened them up on their way home the next day.
“Hey, girls, before I forget. When you come home from the dance tonight you are going to be too hyped up to sleep so you have one more project to finish,” Gemma said.
“What?” Jessie asked.
“There will be some stationary, a pen, and an envelope on your pillow. I want you to write a letter to your partner. Tell them anything
you want, but remember someone is writing about you while you are writing about them. When you get done, put your note in the envelope, seal it, and put it on the table. I’ll take care of them in the morning.”
“Oh, man! I’m not good at that stuff,” Fiona said.
“Then it will be a good lesson,” Gemma told her.
Carly was so mesmerized by her pretty nails that she couldn’t look at anything else until her toenails were done and then they took center stage. “Look, Deanna. Ain’t they pretty? And look at the sparkle on my toenail. Man, I’m going to be a princess tonight.”
Deanna smiled and patted her on the shoulder. Gemma’s heart almost burst with pride. But by the time she finished the last little girl’s makeup, she felt like she’d been put through an old wringer washing machine. “And now it’s my turn. Can you all sit right here and wait for me? And if any of you get into a catfight and mess up one of my hairdos or chip a single fingernail, I swear, I’ll make you stay in this cabin all night and no one will see how pretty you are.”
“Yes, Momma Gemma.” Jessie giggled.
***
“Just one more time,” Tyrelle begged Trace. “I ain’t got that last part down just right yet.”
“Okay, Damian, come on over here. You are ready and Tyrelle needs a partner,” Trace said.
“Ah, man! I don’t like bein’ the girl. I like to lead and I’m goin’ to show Jessie how it’s done tonight. I bet them girls ain’t been practicing like we have,” Damian said.
“Well, you’re going to help Tyrelle one more time,” Trace said. “That’s what partners are for.”
“Okay, but man, you better not wig out on me and stand over in the corner after I teach you all about this dancing stuff,” Damian said.
Trace was proud of his boys. They’d come a long way from that wary passel that had stumbled into his cabin that first night. Their hair was slicked back, their faces clean, and their shoes or boots shined. They’d brushed their teeth and even used some of his aftershave as cologne.
Trace pushed a button on the CD machine and George Strait sang “I Cross My Heart.” It was a good beat for two-stepping and they’d practiced two nights on the dance. Trace just hoped that when they got to the dining cabin that they all didn’t “wig out” as Damian said.
“Hey, guys, remember this will be a country dance,” he reminded them.
“We could do this to rap, man! We are that good!” Tyrelle told him. “Okay, Damian, my bro, I got it now. And then I’m going to tip her back like they do in the movies and she’s goin’ to know that us boys are the winners for the whole week.”
The song ended and the boys all lined up for one more inspection before they walked out the door. Trace checked each of them, straightening a collar here and dusting off a shoe there.
“Okay, boys. You’ve worked hard all week. Go make me proud tonight. Show those girls you aren’t afraid to dance, but most of all go have a good time,” Trace said.
Even their walk changed as they went to the dining hall where the dance music was already playing loudly. Their backs were straight and their strut pronounced. They were ready to show the girls they were real cowboys and real cowboys could two-step.
***
Hill and Harper had decorated the dining cabin, making it into a ranch house dance. Country music played on the CD machine. Hay bales were stacked up in the corner, and oil lamps sat in the windows.
The punch bowl was ready, and cookies in the shape of horseshoes, Stetson hats, and cowboy boots filled platters.
“Oh, my,” Gemma exclaimed when she led her girls into the dance. “You guys did a great job. How on earth did you transform it to this since suppertime?”
Hill grinned. “Thank you, ma’am. We had to work fast, but Harper had it all designed on paper and we just did what he said.”
Carly gasped. “It’s like a cowboy movie.”
Deanna whispered. “It’s beautiful.”
Damian boldly crossed the room and held out his hand to Jessie. “May I have this dance, ma’am?”
She looked at Gemma and for a fleeting moment Gemma thought she might bolt and run like a coyote on a hot summer night. But when Gemma smiled, Jessie took his hand and nodded. He led her to the middle of the dance floor and with at least a foot of space between their bodies, they two-stepped to a George Strait tune.
“Your girls are lookin’ good,” Trace said.
She’d never get used to the oozy feeling his warm breath on her neck caused. She wanted to kiss him right there under the mistletoe and then sneak off to the nearest hayloft or blanket under the stars to do more than kiss. But there was still the cold war to deal with before there would be any more kisses.
“Yes, they are, and so are your boys. Look at them dancin’ with the girls. How’d you get them to do that? Most boys are too shy to dance,” she said.
“Thank you, ma’am. It took as much work for me to put enough confidence in them to dance as it did for you to make all those girls look like princesses tonight.”
“And I can see what you and those boys have been doing in the evenings the past two nights. How many of them had even heard of two-stepping?”
He put a hand over his heart. “Guilty as charged. I couldn’t teach them what I didn’t know, so two-steppin’ and a little swing is going to be it for the night. Damian could do some fancy footwork to rap, but it wouldn’t work with country music songs. He caught on faster than any of them.”
She looped her arm through his. “Are you going to ask me to dance or do I have to wait for Tyrelle? Or are we still fighting?”
“He’s got his eye on Fiona, but Miz Gemma, may I have this dance? And we still have a talk to do, but I don’t think we’re fighting.”
Hill punched a couple of buttons and Travis Tritt’s song blared from the machinery.
“Swing it is,” Trace said.
On one twirl Gemma noticed Hill and a brunette doing some fancy footwork and Harper and a short blonde wearing cowboy boots like hers, only in pink, weren’t doing such a shabby job either.
“Who are those ladies?” she asked.
“Current girlfriends. Lester has gone to pick up his woman. There he is coming in the door right now. She owns a Western wear shop in town,” he answered just before he swung her out again in a series of twirls.
When the song ended Gemma was panting.
“Is it me, the dancing, or are you out of shape?” Trace asked.
“All of the above,” she gasped.
Trace smiled. “Now that’s a good answer, darlin’. Want to sit out the next one? Looks like the kids are doing fine out on the floor so find a chair and I’ll bring you a cup of punch.”
She nodded and melted into the nearest chair. Jessie and Damian were dancing again, this time a little closer. Tyrelle was teaching Fiona a two-step with an extra kick thrown in the mix. The rest of the kids were dancing all in a pile like kids did these days, but when the song ended and a slow one began, they chose up partners and the two-stepping began all over again.
Trace put a cup of punch in her hands and sat down beside her. “Gemma, I didn’t mean to let this go on this long, but I was busy in the evenings teaching the boys to dance so I didn’t get over to your cabin. Want to take a walk right now? I’d say there are plenty of chaperones at this dance.”
Gemma shook her head. “No. It can wait. I don’t want to miss a single minute of all this fun. I worked five hours on those girls this afternoon.”
Trace leaned over and kissed her on the earlobe. “I’d let you work five hours on me.”
It took all her willpower to sit still, but she managed. “Be careful about making me all hot, darlin’. Remember what they say about paybacks.”
Trace chuckled and sat up straight. “At least I’ve graduated from cowboy to darlin’. That’s enough for one night anyway, Miz O’Donnell. We can talk after the rodeo tomorrow night when I show you who is boss one more time.”
“How the mighty are fallen,” she quippe
d.
“Hemingway?” he asked.
Lester walked up beside them and said, “David in the Bible when Jonathan and Saul were slain. I want you two to meet Georgia. She’s from Colorado Springs and owns a Western wear store over there.”
Gemma nodded up at the tall blonde wearing jeans and boots. “Pleased to meet you.”
“We’re on our way to the punch bowl. Can we bring you something?”
Gemma shook her head. “I’m fine right now.”
When they’d gone, Trace picked up her hand and teased the palm with his thumb. “So you think you are mean as David? You got a sling and a couple of rocks in your back pocket?”
“I got a determination to win in my back pocket,” she said.
His thumb was driving her completely crazy. How could one rough old cowboy thumb create so many naughty thoughts in a room full of kids, anyway?
“So do I, darlin’,” he whispered.
She wasn’t sure when Hill and his girlfriend crossed the dance floor, but suddenly there they were, right in front of her and Trace. The girl wore a cute little red sundress and a silver bead necklace.
“Gemma, meet Chris Smith,” Hill said.
Gemma pulled her hand free and stuck it out. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Chris shook with her and then slipped her hand back into Hill’s. “The kids seem to be having a good time. I teach this age group. It’s hard to get them on the dance floor together even when they’ve known each other for years. You really have done a lot in just one week.”
“They’ve come a long way,” Trace said. “If you’ll excuse us, Gemma promised me the next slow dance.”
He held out his hand and she stood up.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
He slipped his arms around her waist. “Tonight I don’t play well with others. I don’t want to share. I missed you, Gemma,” he said.
His heart was beating loudly in her ear. The steady rhythm seemed to be telling her that he was as solid as his heartbeat, that he’d never hurt her.
Just a Cowboy and His Baby (Spikes & Spurs) Page 15
