by Laura Drewry
Panic slid through Jo’s veins. “But Mrs. Lloyd is going to be here tonight – she’ll see me in it.”
“You didn’t let me finish.” Ginny sighed through a smile. “He took the catalogue numbers, wired a store in Humbolt and had them send it straight to him.”
So much trouble – just for her. Surely this must be wrong. Nothing that felt this sinful could be right.
“What would Mama think about all this?” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud and started when Ginny answered her.
“You Mama was a smart woman, Joanna. She’d want you to be able to enjoy tonight as much as anyone else.” She squeezed Jo’s hand. “You’re a smart woman, too. You’re not about to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, nor are you about to let anyone tell you what you should or shouldn’t be doing.”
Jo chewed her lip. Why was she suddenly struck with such uncertainty? Travers loved her and she loved him. That’s all that should matter. Yet she couldn’t stop the doubts creeping through her mind.
She didn’t want anyone thinking any less of Travers, but oh, how she wanted to wear that dress. And more than that, how she wanted to dance all night with him. The last two days had been nothing less than torture knowing they were finally going to be together, but not knowing when.
Still, Jo couldn’t help but smile. “I haven’t worn a dress in years – not since the pink one you made me. How did you know what size to order? And there’s no corset, either.” She winked at her aunt. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
A deep blush flooded Ginny’s cheeks. “Levi told me what to buy – and what not to buy – and he knew the sizes, too.”
“But how. . .?”
“You’ll have to ask him, dear.”
Jo’s mouth snapped shut. Of course Travers would know how big she was – he’d had his amazing hands on her enough times to at least make a guess. “But what if it doesn’t fit? There’s no time to make alterations.”
Ginny laughed softly. “We’ll worry about that later. In the meantime,” she pointed to the other side of the bed where the tub had been set under the window, steam rising from its depths. “I want you to scrub every last inch of your body – do you understand me? You’re going to be the belle of the ball tonight.”
“Let’s not get carried away, Ginny.” Jo hugged her aunt close. “I’ll leave all that nonsense to Carrie. I’d be happy to make it through the evening without spilling punch on that dress.”
“You’ll be fine,” Ginny assured her with a teasing smile. “Just don’t go near the drink table.” She turned to go, then stopped.
“Oh, there’s one more thing,” she said. From beneath the pile of crinolines, she pulled an old brown leather belt. “He told me to give you this. Said you’d know what it meant.”
Jo looked at it for a minute, then once again found herself laughing and crying at the same time. Ginny finally gave up trying to understand, and left Jo to stare at the belt in disbelief.
After Ginny left, Jo spent a long time doing things she hadn’t done in too many years to count. She took her time brushing out her hair, one hundred strokes, just like Mama used to do. She played with the length – up, down, twist, ringlets. No, she wouldn’t wear it in twists or ringlets. No doubt Carrie would be, and the last thing Jo wanted was Peter Carlson accusing her of trying to be like her sister again.
She took her sweet time in the bath, watching through the window as the sun began its slow decent in the west. People would be arriving soon, but Jo didn’t care. The soap Ginny gave her left a delicate strawberry scent on her skin and in her hair. It was no wonder Carrie loved to be pampered – it was glorious! Of course, tomorrow, it’d be nothing but a memory. But for as long as it lasted today, Jo would savor every last second of it.
o0o
Levi looped the string tie around his collar and tightened it just enough to be respectable. Damn, but he hated those things. In fact, he’d sworn them off years back, but he’d bought one for tonight. He wanted to look his best for her tonight, so she’d be as proud to be seen with him as he was with her.
He’d even gone so far as to shave a second time today and, with the help of a smug Will, he’d cut his hair. No matter how respectable he looked, it was sure to be a hard lesson in self-control with Miss Joanna McCaine on his arm all night, wearing that dress.
And what a dress. The minute he’d seen it, he knew it as the one for her. The color was the exact same as her eyes when she was yelling. Wasn’t anything frilly about it, either. There was a time when he’d liked all the frills and frippery some women wore, but not on Joanna.
She was simply the most beautiful woman in the world and she sure as hell didn’t need any frills or other crap to make her more so.
Though, knowing Jo, she’d probably strangle him with his damned string tie for not buying her ruffles, but that was one risk he was just gonna have to take.
Guests had started arriving almost an hour ago, but Levi hung back until Will was ready to go, too. Couldn’t let anyone think he was too anxious, even if his heart was hammering inside his chest and his throat was dryer than the Mojave.
They made their way toward the house and the crowd milling around it; women in fancy silk dresses with bustles and bows, men in expensive-looking suits and hats, and cowhands, dressed in their cleanest denim and leather, ready to dance the night away. Or drink the night away, whichever seemed more promising.
Good thing Carrie and Ginny had stocked up on plenty of whiskey.
The yard had been raked and swept until every last leaf and twig was in place. And God help the first breath of wind that dared blow any of it back. Tables and chairs had been set up in long lines beside the porch, each table decked out with flowers of every color and shape, while great huge pink ribbons hung on the back of each chair and from the porch.
Joanna’s dance floor sat smack in the middle of the yard; a huge wooden platform, raised about two inches off the ground, and sanded smooth of every last splinter.
Levi left Will to talk to Jimmy while he made his way through the crowd, stopping along the way to speak with friends, or taking the time to introduce himself to strangers. Seemed most folks were amazed by his transformation and wanted to find out what had caused it, because for every step forward he took, he was pulled back two, until the house looked farther away than when they started out.
Levi cast a glance up at the top floor windows just in time to see the curtains flutter closed. Anticipation riddled his veins. He couldn’t wait to see her – couldn’t wait to dance with her, to touch her again.
God help him if the dress didn’t fit.
He nodded politely to Big Bill and his wife and excused himself. If he didn’t get to that house soon, he was going to explode right there in front of everyone.
“Watch where you’re going there, Travers.” Mac’s warning came just in time to stop Levi from falling up the porch stairs. A frown tugged at the corner of Mac’s mouth as he leaned over the railing. “Little distracted, are you?”
Levi straightened his tie, then loosened it a bit. He couldn’t stop from chuckling nervously. “Little. Is Joanna ready?”
Mac’s lips tightened into a thin white line. His nod was barely discernable.
Levi swallowed hard. Of all people, Mac was the last person he should be asking, but he couldn’t stop himself. “How does she look?”
A faint smile lit Mac’s tired eyes. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he mumbled. “Just remember what I said – the first hint that you’re messing with her or you’ve upset her in any way. . .”
Levi nodded and gave Mac a pat on the shoulder. Before he pushed through the door, though, he reached over the porch railing and plucked a single red rose from one of the bushes. He’d never been one to bring flowers before, but it seemed the thing to do.
Carrie was just coming through the parlor when he walked in. As usual, she looked like something right off the candy counter – pink and fluffy and sweet enough to make a bell
y ache.
“Hello, Mr. Travers,” she sang. “You look very handsome.”
“Thank you, Carrie. You look fine yourself.”
Her lip came out in its usual pout. “Fine? I look fine?”
“Well, yes, ma’am. You sure do.” It took some doing not to laugh at her, but he managed.
“Is Will with you?” There was a strange look in those blue eyes, but Levi couldn’t be bothered to try and figure it out.
“No, he’s talking to some of the boys outside.”
“Oh good, he hasn’t left then.”
Unease settled in Levi’s belly. “No, I don’t reckon he’ll head out until tomorrow sometime.”
She smiled, but still, that look lingered until her little button nose scrunched. “Has that horrible Milly Jean Carlson arrived? I can’t bear to see her yet.”
“Wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen the girl before.”
“Believe me, you’ll know her.” Carrie leaned closer. “She’s quite a . . . sizeable. . .girl who will, no doubt, be dressed in a white silk dress that’s three sizes too small.”
That must be a huge blunder in the fashion circles, but he couldn’t have cared less about Milly Jean Carlson, her dress, or her size. The only girl he cared to see was certainly not sizeable and she wouldn’t be wearing white. In fact, of all the fancy dresses out in the yard, not one came even close to the color of Jo’s.
Was that a good thing? If pink was the popular color, maybe he should have gone with that instead. Damn, but he was losing his mind. Since when did he care about dress colors? He couldn’t help but smile. Ever since he met Miss Joanna, that’s when.
“Joanna will be down in a moment.” Carrie sashayed closer. “Shall I save you a dance, Mr. Travers?”
He smiled as charmingly as he could. “Sorry, Miss Carrie. I’m spoken for all evening. Maybe next time.”
“All evening? My goodness, Mr. Travers, after that big speech you gave Uncle Mac, you still have an eye for the ladies, don’t you?”
“Nope,” his felt his smile turn into a big dopey grin. “Just one.”
Her blue eyes opened in disbelief, glanced up the stairs, then back at him. With a loud humph, she lifted her chin and flounced past him.
Levi paced the parlor, twisting the rose between his fingers. What if she hated the dress? What if she’d changed her mind? She hadn’t actually spoken to him about the dance since the day in the mud, so maybe she’d had second thoughts. Maybe. . .
A sharp gasp made him turn. “You cut your hair.”
Beautiful didn’t do Joanna McCaine a bit of justice. The deep green of the dress – Ginny told him it was taffeta - made the emerald fire in Joanna’s eyes blaze. And it fit even better than he hoped. The neckline swooped low enough to let him admire her bare shoulders, but was still modest enough to not cause any raised eyebrows. A matching ribbon sash and tiny shoulder bows were the only adornments on the bodice that molded against her like a second skin.
No silk, no lace, no pearls; just a simple gown that seemed to be made just for her.
It was nothing like Carrie’s.
It was perfect.
Levi’s throat burned, but try as he might, he just couldn’t swallow.
Joanna’s hair, rich and glossy, sat in a loose pile on the crown of her head, with the two combs he’d sent tucked neatly along the sides. A soft fringe covered her forehead, but there wasn’t a ringlet or a twist in sight. It was almost as if she’d read his mind.
“Your hair,” she repeated, with what he could only call a look of horror.
“Y-yeah,” he stammered, fingering the edges. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
“Why did you do it?” There she went, chewing that lip again.
“I-I wanted to. . .” He stopped. Had he ever felt more the fool?
“You wanted to what?” she stepped closer, edging his fingers out of the way and replacing them with her own. The cool softness of them made his breath catch.
“I, uh,” he swallowed. “Wanted to look good for you.”
“Oh, Travers,” she purred. “You always look good to me. And tonight you look even better. But you’ll let it grow back, right?”
When he caught his breath, he stepped toward her, slowly. He knew his mouth was hanging open, but he didn’t care.
“You look. . .” What was the word?
“Fine?” she teased.
“No.” He blinked. “I mean yes, but that’s not it.”
“Nice?”
“Nope.”
“Handsome?”
“Definitely not.” He tapped a finger over his mouth as he continued to stare. Okay, he wasn’t staring, he was ogling, but since she hadn’t belted him yet, he’d just keep on doing it.
“What’s wrong with handsome?” She began to fidget with the sash. “Everyone said my mother was a very handsome woman.”
“I’m sure she was,” he answered as matter-of-factly as he could. “But that’s not you.”
Jo’s brow lifted. “Pretty?”
“Sorry.”
A tiny frown pulled her mouth down. That delicious soft mouth. He took her fingers in his and lifted them to his lips. A tiny flame smoldered in her eyes.
“Unbelievable,” he murmured.
“W-what?”
“You. You’re unbelievably beautiful.” When she blushed and moved away, he turned her face back with the tip of his finger. “I knew you’d be more beautiful than usual, but this. . .” He whistled. “You’re unbelievable.”
She began to shake her head, but he nodded.
“Yes.” He hadn’t released her fingers. Didn’t want to. In fact, if she’d let him, he’d touch her all night long – and it would include more than just her fingers.
“Thank you.” She seemed to have a difficult time with that word. “If I am pretty. . .”
“Not pretty,” he interrupted. “Unbelievable.”
Her color deepened. “If I am what you say, it’s all your doing. You shouldn’t have gone to all the trouble.”
“Believe me,” he smiled. “It was well worth it.”
“Thank you, Levi.” Even her voice was softer. “It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.” Her eyes glistened behind unshed tears.
“No.” He shook his head. “Thank you. I’m going to be the envy of every man out there.”
She rolled her eyes. “I doubt that very much, but it’s nice of you to say.”
“I, uh, I. . .” he exhaled a long breath, then grinned back at her. “Wow.”
“You look pretty ‘wow’ yourself, Travers.” A sparkle danced in her smile.
“Call me Levi.” He stepped closer until only their joined hands separated them. The pulse in her neck quickened and her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip.
“Nice tie, Levi.”
“I think it’s choking me.”
“I like it.”
“Then I’ll never take it off.”
Her soft giggle tickled his ears. And damn it all if she didn’t smell good, too – just like strawberries.
“Is that for me?” She glanced down at the rose he’d practically crushed in his fingers.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry.” It was beyond repair, but he had to try. Much as he hated to, he released her fingers and tried to straighten the petals. “It looked a lot better when I picked it a minute ago.”
“You picked one of Aunt Ginny’s roses?” Her eyes widened in feigned shock. “She’ll have your hide tacked to the barn wall.”
Levi held the bud toward her and winked. “For you, I’d pick every last one of them.”
“My, but you’re laying it on awfully thick, aren’t you?” She accepted the withered offering and held it beneath her nose. “Between the rose and the belt. . .”
Levi’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Ginny thought I was crazy when I told her to give it to you. But I knew you’d understand.”
“Oh yes, Travers. I understood perfectly.”
They stared into each others eyes for
a long moment, then whispered at the same time, “No more notches.”
“Best gift anyone’s ever given me.” Joanna’s smile lit the room. “But I think I should warn you.”
“Warn me?”
She nodded. “You may have plied me with more gifts tonight than I’ve had in my whole life, and I might even look like a little different tonight, Travers. . .”
“A little?”
She ignored him. “And we might even have agreed to get married.” Her eyes teased him beneath her lashes. “But no matter what, I’m not about to let you wrinkle this dress.”
“Is that so?” He offered up his brightest smile and for a second there, he thought he’d almost won her over. Almost.
“Yes, that’s so.” With her head tipped slightly to the right, there was a something strange in her voice; she was still teasing him, but there was something else there, too. “It wasn’t my idea for you to buy me all these fancy things. I was happy to go sit in the loft, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.” Then it hit him – she liked being all dressed up! Despite all her bluster, she truly enjoyed the fuss and fanciness. He ran his finger down the length of her jaw.
She shivered. “But now that you’ve gone to all this trouble and spent all your hard-earned money--”
“Hard-earned doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
She swatted him softly. “You won’t be getting any. . .”
Levi’s grin widened. “Any what, Miss Joanna?”
“It’s Jo.” She lifted her chin, but a smile still tugged at her beautiful lips. “And as I was saying, you won’t be getting anything from me tonight, in this dress, that you wouldn’t give to me when I was wearing my pants and hat.”
He pushed his smile away, but couldn’t help winking at her. She was so cute when she acted tough. “First of all, you are anything but a Jo tonight. You’re very much a Miss Joanna.”
She chewed her bottom lip, but gave no other outward sign of what she was thinking. He couldn’t wait to taste that lip again.
“And secondly,” he raked his gaze over the length of her. “After seeing you dressed like this, I don’t think I can ever allow you to put that thing you call a hat back on your head.”
