The Kissing Tree

by Bice, Prudence

  After lunch, he had taken it to the jeweler, Mr. Hobbs. He was able to polish it up somewhat and fix the latch while Ridge waited.

  When he had returned to put up the last of the decorations, he decided he would get close enough to Georgiana to slip it into her pocket. The task had proved difficult indeed. Obviously part of her new decision involved staying as far away as she could from him.

  When Samantha called him over to the heavily laden dessert tables to hand him a note that had been delivered for him, he knew it was his only chance. So, leaning forward between the two women, he snatched a piece of cake with one hand and slipped the chain in Georgiana’s pocket with the other. From Samantha, he got a playful swat . . . and of course the cake. Georgiana had only given him a glare.

  Frustrated, Ridge recalled the note Samantha had handed him. It had been from Cordelia. She had written to tell him that due to some unforeseen circumstances, she would be late this evening. She sent her apologies and asked that he save her a dance. He’d wadded up the note and threw it away, secretly praying her unforeseen circumstances would keep her from the dance altogether.

  After Ridge watched Georgiana from across the room a little longer, he stood up from the wall and began walking in her direction. She may be avoiding me, he thought, but I’m not avoiding her—not any longer, anyway. He’d made his own decision this afternoon. As he passed the refreshment table, he grabbed two glasses of punch and walked the rest of the way to where she sat.

  “Ya looked like you could use somethin’ to drink,” he said, smiling down at her.

  He handed her the cup and was pleasantly surprised she accepted it without any protest.

  “Thank you, Ridge. You’re very thoughtful.” As she spoke, the song that was playing ended and another one began immediately. Dawson and Samantha continued dancing.

  Ridge gestured to the seat next to her.

  “Do ya mind if I . . . ?”

  “Of course not,” she answered and politely moved the folds of her dress to one side to allow him ample room to sit.

  Inwardly relieved, Ridge sat down next to her. He was two for two, and he hoped his luck would hold. Turning to watch the dance floor for a while, he found himself staring at Dawson and Samantha. He knew Samantha was a good dancer, but apparently Dawson was as good, if not better. They were certainly dominating the dance floor and having a good time doing it.

  Ridge glanced over at Georgiana. She was watching them as well.

  Suddenly he felt sorry for her. She probably wasn’t enjoying herself so far. He was contemplating what he could say to her when she starting speaking, almost duplicating his thoughts from a moment ago.

  “I had no idea Samantha could dance so well. I know how good Dawson is. They look like they’re really enjoying themselves.”

  “Yes, but what about you? You don’t seem to be havin’ much fun,” he commented.

  “I’m just fine,” she informed him, then added, “really,” when he looked at her doubtfully. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to dance much with this foot of mine. I’ve been walking on it way too much.”

  “How is it healin’?” he asked but turned back to the dance floor briefly when he heard an enthusiastic applause. A crowd had assembled around Dawson and Samantha as they danced.

  “Amazingly well, thanks to you.”

  Ridge turned back to look at her when he heard the emotion in her voice.

  “By the way,” she began, her eyes searching his, “I want to thank you for this.” She touched her father’s chain with one hand and laid her other hand on his arm. Ridge shook his head. “Don’t try to deny it, Ridge. I know it was you. You’re not as sneaky as you may think.”

  When he didn’t answer either way, she removed her hand and turned her eyes back to the dance floor. The song ended again, and a slow one began. When it became apparent that Dawson wasn’t coming for her, Ridge stood up and offered her his hand.

  “Shall we dance?”

  She smiled up at him and placed her hand in his. After helping her to stand, he led her to the dance floor.

  Before they started dancing, he cautioned her. “If your foot begins to pain you too much, let me know right away.”

  She nodded her affirmation, and taking the proper position, they slowly began the waltz.

  He struggled with the desire to hold her closer than was proper. Angus wasn’t here to scowl at him, and Dawson was temporarily distracted. But, despite what he wanted, Ridge was also determined not to cause her any discomfort, though her very nearness was nigh to causing him to falter.

  “I must say, Ridge, you dance very well too,” she complimented him sincerely.

  “I have Samantha to thank for that,” Ridge admitted honestly. “She grew tired of me always stepping on her toes, and so she made it her goal one year to teach me.”

  ◁ ◊ ▷

  Georgiana felt a sudden twinge of jealously when she thought of Ridge and Samantha dancing together. For the first time, she wondered if Samantha and Ridge had ever had feelings for each other, and an even larger wave of jealousy washed over her. Suddenly she felt an angry swell ebb its way in, and she fought to keep it at bay. How could she have missed out on so much? She should have been here. When they’d moved to New York, she’d left too much behind. Looking up into Ridge’s face, she concentrated on suppressing her jealous feelings. She was determined not to be annoyed with him tonight.

  When she had begun changing her clothes at Samantha’s home to get ready for the dance, something fell out of her pocket onto the floor in front of her. She had immediately picked it up and inspected it. It was the chain her father had given her—the one she tried to retrieve from the creek! It had been recently polished. There was no question as to who had placed it in her pocket. When Ridge had leaned forward to snatch a piece of cake earlier, she had felt his hand brush up against her. She distinctly remembered getting angry at the thrill that had warmed through her body. He must have dropped it in her pocket then.

  Watching him now, his eyes suddenly caught hers. She blushed to be caught staring, though she did not look away. The same thought kept spinning and spinning around in her head.

  She loved him—fully, and without reservation. She could no longer deny it. His name was etched upon her heart, and it had forever been so. If he could not love her in return, she was doomed to live a life forever longing for the one man who touched her soul and owned her so completely.

  The dance came to an end, and Ridge slowly released her and offered his arm as they walked to the edge of the dance floor. Dawson was instantly at her side, and Ridge stepped back. Dawson placed his hand at her waist and nodded to Ridge.

  “Good evening, Ridge.”

  “Dawson,” Ridge nodded back.

  Dawson turned his attention to Georgiana.

  “I wondered where you were until I spotted you on the dance floor. I went to get Samantha some refreshment after our dance, and when I returned, you were gone.” He paused, then asked, “Is your foot feeling better?”

  “Yes, a little,” she admitted, feeling slightly guilty for denying him a dance and accepting Ridge’s offer.

  “I hadn’t intended on leaving you so long.” Now he wore a look of chagrin. “Samantha is a very good dancer, and you know how I enjoy dancing.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. The both of you looked wonderful out there. Besides, I was fine. Ridge here kept me company.” She turned toward Ridge, smiling. “By the way, I didn’t thank you for the dance.”

  “The pleasure was mine.”

  And mine, Georgiana thought. She felt Dawson draw her possessively closer.

  “Where did Samantha run off to?” Georgiana turned to Dawson, gently forcing his hand to fall from her waist.

  “There was an incident at the refreshment tables that needed tending to.” As he spoke, another dance began, and Dawson turned toward her and held out his hand. “May I?”

  “Of course.” She smiled up at him and took his hand.

  �
�Excuse us, Ridge,” Dawson said as he led her onto the dance floor.

  Georgiana glanced over at Ridge when she passed by but couldn’t decipher the look on his face.

  “I wanted to apologize about earlier today,” Dawson began immediately as they started to dance.

  “Earlier?” Georgiana’s mind had still been contemplating Ridge’s expression.

  “Yes, I was a little out of sorts this morning, and I’m afraid I may not have been as cordial as I should have.”

  Georgiana’s mind was still trying to catch his meaning when it dawned on her that he was talking about his somber demeanor when he was teaching her how to drive the wagon.

  “You do yourself a discredit, Dawson. You are always gracious company no matter what your mood.”

  He smiled and endeavored to hold her a little closer. They danced in silence for a while before he spoke again.

  “Georgiana, I’ve been thinking.”

  She instantly felt apprehensive.

  “I can only stay another four or five days, at most. I promised Father.” Dawson looked away from her a moment, as if he were stalling, but when he looked back, he seemed more determined to say what was on his mind. “We haven’t had too much time to talk . . . privately. Not as much as I had hoped.” He now looked nervous, and her uneasiness increased. “I was wondering . . . if perhaps you have had enough time to consider my last proposal?”

  “Dawson, I . . .” She looked away, trying to gather the right words to say.

  “If you need more time . . . ,” he hastily added, “I understand. I know you’ve had a rough go lately with your grandmother’s passing and returning here, as well as your responsibilities helping your grandfather.” He gently turned her face to look at him. “It’s just . . . that I had hoped . . . to bring you home with me.”

  An unexpected jolt made her instantly tense. She was not ready to leave! She knew that much for sure. In fact, she was fairly positive she didn’t ever want to go back to New York. No matter how things turned out.

  “Dawson, my grandfather still needs me. I don’t know if I can . . .”

  “So you’re not saying no to me, just that you can’t come home yet?” he gushed, not giving her a chance to answer before he let out a relieved sigh and leaned his head against the side of hers. “Oh, Georgiana . . . I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Georgiana groaned inwardly. This was going to be harder than she thought. She had once again inadvertently given him false hope, and she could not abide hurting him any longer. She opened her mouth to speak frankly, but before she got out a word, the dance ended, and he began walking her back off the dance floor. When they reached the edge, Samantha walked up to them. Her face shone with delight, and Georgiana couldn’t help but smile.

  “How are things going?” Georgiana asked her friend.

  “Splendidly . . . well, except for the mishap over at the refreshment table,” she explained. “A few plates got jostled and a few drinks spilled when Clyde Pickering found his two young sons Phillip and Miles hiding under the table sneaking treats when they were supposed to be home in bed.

  Georgiana looked at Samantha for a moment trying to keep a straight face, but soon both girls broke out in giggles.

  ◁ ◊ ▷

  Ridge smiled as both women broke down in merriment. He could barely keep from laughing with them as he recalled overhearing both women’s earlier recollections about when they had done something similar. He couldn’t help but wonder if they had shared a similar hiding place as the two wily boys.

  He looked over at Dawson. The man wasn’t laughing. However, he couldn’t help but notice the worried expression Dawson had worn earlier was replaced by something else, relief maybe, or perhaps hope.

  Thinking back to the intimate manner in which Dawson had been holding Georgiana only moments ago, Ridge tried to speculate what their intense-looking conversation had been about. His stomach tied in knots thinking of the man’s earlier confession that he had proposed marriage to Georgiana already, at least twice. Looking to Georgiana, he tried to discern if there was some secret she could be hiding.

  When she glanced up at him, mirth still evident on her face, their eyes locked. She may look happy, he pondered, but it is only a façade. Something is bothering her. As the music started up again, she turned to Dawson.

  “I’m afraid I must sit again for a while.” She glanced away from Dawson’s disappointed look.

  “I’ll stay and keep you company,” Dawson offered solicitously.

  Georgiana shook her head, still looking down. “Please, Dawson. Take Samantha out on the dance floor once again. I so much enjoyed watching the two of you before.”

  Ever so slightly, Georgiana turned her head toward Samantha and winked. Dawson didn’t notice. Instead, he looked sideways over to Ridge, trying to appear nonchalant. Ridge could tell he had no intention of leaving Georgiana alone in his care again, so he politely excused himself and went to ask the widow Swansen to dance. The night, he feared, was going to be a long one. At least to his good fortune, Miss Cordelia Jamison had not yet arrived.

  The thought had not yet even passed through his mind when he spotted her entering the hall and looking about, presumably for him. Gracefully, he maneuvered Mrs. Swansen to the far side of the dance floor. The older woman smiled and seemed to be enjoying herself.

  “I haven’t seen you in town much this last little while, Mr. Carson, not since you picked up the post a few weeks ago. Been keepin’ to yourself lately? You know that’s not fair to all us women folk.”

  He smiled down at the woman. Though he gave no response, she continued. “Of course, you were a dear to mend my leaky roof today. It has been worryin’ me ever so.” A quick glance about the room gave her another avenue of conversation. “My, that Samantha Wallace did a splendid job with this year’s social. That girl just has a knack for this sort of thing. Remember last winter when they put her in charge of the Christmas pageant? Why, that was the best one I’d seen since, well . . . since ever, I reckon.” She stopped only to catch her breath and started up again. “Why there’s that sweet Mr. Alexander over there dancin’ with Miss Wallace right now. Don’t they make lovely looking dance partners? If that young man wasn’t so far gone on Miss McLaughlin, I would encourage that Wallace girl to snatch him up right fast. It was so tragic what happened to her. I pray she doesn’t hold herself back too long because of it though. The longer a woman waits, the less her chances. All the good ones are gone.” She looked up to Ridge. “What about you, Mr. Carson? Why haven’t you found yourself a nice girl, settled down, and had a few young’uns to bounce on one of them strong knees? Miss Wallace is sure a handsome girl, don’t ya think?”

  “Samantha? Yes . . . yes she is, but we’re just friends,” he told her, glancing over to where Samantha was dancing with Dawson.

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “Seems to me you used to say that about Miss McLaughlin, but I know you was sweet on her for a long time.”

  Ridge looked over to where Georgiana sat idly playing with her father’s chain. She looked troubled, not like a woman who had just accepted a proposal of marriage. As he watched her, Miss Jamison sat down beside her and began to engage her in conversation. Ridge worried as to what could possibly be the subject of a conversation between the two women. As he was thinking, Georgiana looked over to him, horrified. Miss Jamison had obviously said something that had caused that look. He needed to get over there. Dang! When was this blasted dance going to end?

  He watched helplessly as Georgiana stood up and made her way to the door of the social hall. Turning back to Cordelia, he stared at the smug look on her face. She caught him staring and smiled brightly over at him.

  When the dance finally ended, he thanked the widow Swansen and walked her back to her friends. Turning, he immediately headed to the door. On his way, he noticed Dawson looking for Georgiana, and avoided him. He wanted to get to Georgiana first. He had a sneaky suspicion whatever Miss Jamison had said to her to make her
leave was directly related to him.

  19. Returning Home

  “Ridge!”

  Before he could reach the door, he was stopped by Mr. Wallace. “I’ve been looking for you, son. I hope I don’t ruin your evening if I mix a little business with pleasure, but I need to discuss a financial matter with you.”

  “Mr. Wallace, can it—”

  “Now I promise it will only take a moment,” Mr. Wallace added quickly. Reluctantly, Ridge turned to the man and gave him his attention, though not undivided. “The Wells Fargo stage will be by first thing in the mornin’ to pick up a deposit and transfer it to Denver. You know ever since Mitch Tyler went missin’ a few years back, it makes me nervous every time I have business up that way. There’s been too much talk about Injun trouble, and if it’s not them, it’s the outlaws. The law around here isn’t what it used to be, and too many incidents have gone unsolved. Seems every gamblin’ Jesse James copycat is tryin’ his hand at thievery.” He made a disgusted sound. “I’ve been thinkin’ . . . since you’ve got about as much invested into seein’ the money arrives safely in Denver as any of us, that you might be willin’ to round up a few men to follow the stage for a while and make sure at least no one ’round these parts has a try at robbin’ it. Those Wells Fargo guys are sharp shooters, but the way I see it, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”

  Ridge agreed to ask a few men tonight if they would be willing to meet Mr. Wallace at the bank come sunrise. He knew Angus wouldn’t mind him helpin’ out. It was the right thing to do.

  Finally able to end the conversation, Ridge hurried through the door. He did not see Georgiana anywhere. Sighing, he leaned up against the side of the building to think.