by Laura Drewry
“Where is Carrie?” he asked. “You’d think she’d be right in the middle of all this, wouldn’t you?”
“She must be here somewhere,” Joanna said, sounding a little unnerved. “Believe me, she’ll turn up. Probably just waiting to make her grand entrance.”
No, he thought. That’s not it. Something’s wrong.
Half-way through the song, Levi caught sight of Jimmy making his way towards them, a smile on his face, his brow raised in silent question as he nodded toward Joanna. Levi answered with a hard glare that sent Jimmy heading back to his crowd of half-drunk cowboys.
Levi’d promised Joanna she wouldn’t have to dance with anyone else and that was one promise he intended to keep – even if it was for purely selfish reasons. The music played on for another half an hour and neither Levi nor Joanna made any attempt to leave the dance floor.
When Big Bill announced a short break, the disappointment Levi felt was mirrored back in Joanna’s eyes.
Boy, was he in trouble. Joanna had no idea how vulnerable she looked just then; how everything she was feeling shone clear from her face. And it was one thing for him to be able to see it, but they didn’t need the rest of the town seeing it, too.
He cleared his throat and nodded toward the yard. “Shall we?”
She blinked hard, as though suddenly remembering where she was. “Oh, y-yes,” she stammered. “Let’s walk.”
They moved across the grass, his hands clasped behind him, hers twisting at her waist.
“Carrie still hasn’t shown her face.” He instantly regretted saying it out loud.
“So what?” Joanna eyed him carefully. “Why’s it so important to see her?”
“It’s not that. . .” he stopped. No need to ruin Joanna’s one night of fun by sharing his worries about her sister. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Just think it’s odd, that’s all.”
“No, I’m sorry,” she said, only loud enough for him to hear. “I shouldn’t be so prickly. And I’m sorry about that dance, too.”
Levi frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You know.” Her face flushed. “Back when I. . .and then you groaned. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable like that.”
Levi stopped in mid-stride. “Uncomfortable?”
She had stopped, too, but kept her gaze on the ground. “Yes. It’s not fair of me to get you so. . .upset. . .like that.”
Levi released a tight laugh. “You didn’t upset me,” he said, shaking his head.
“But you hardly spoke to me after that.” She looked up quickly, then away again. “I just thought. . .”
She really didn’t understand, did she? Levi raked his fingers through his hair and looked around, trying to find a way to explain it.
Milly Jean Carlson and another girl about the same age stood a ways off – but not far enough for Levi’s liking. He started walking again, nudging Joanna along beside him, yet a safe distance apart. Where the hell was Carrie?
“Joanna,” he said. “The things you say and do to me don’t make me uncomfortable.”
“They don’t?” she almost looked disappointed.
“No. I didn’t say anything because the things I wanted to say would have gotten us both into a lot of trouble.”
“What. . .?” There was a brief look of confusion in her eyes, before understanding finally dawned. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Oh.”
They stopped under a giant cottonwood; Joanna leaning back against it and Levi standing with his back to the yard. The constant chatter of the crowd filled the air around them, but neither paid it any mind.
He shouldn’t do it, but she’d tortured him so badly the other night, that he couldn’t help but retaliate. Especially with so many people moving around – it was too good a chance to make her crazy. Sure, he’d be ready to burst, too, but watching her reach that point would be well worth it.
He tipped her chin up so she had to look at him. “There are things I want to say to you, Joanna; things I want to do to you. But I made you a promise and I mean to keep it even if it kills me.” He offered her a wry grin.
Her face flamed scarlet. She looked away, her fingers twisting feverishly at her sash. “I’d like to, um, well, I mean. . .”
“What?” he whispered. “What would you like?”
In typical Jo fashion, she lifted her chin and looked at him defiantly. She hated to appear weak – especially in front of him, and he knew it.
She took a breath and let the words fall from her lips. “I’d like to hear what you have to say.”
He smiled – slow and wickedly. He’d hoped she’d say that. “Would you now?”
“Y-yes.”
“Good because I really want to say it.”
She clenched her hands in front and tipped her head to the side as though bracing herself. Levi chuckled softly. She’d need a lot more than clenched hands by the time he was done with her.
“Do you know why I chose that dress?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
She shook her head slowly.
“Because it was one of a kind – just like you. I knew no other woman would dare wear such a bold color; no other woman would be able to wear such a color. No silk for Miss Joanna McCaine, either – silk is too common at dances like this. You needed something totally unique, but nothing with ruffles, because you’re not a ruffles kind of girl.”
She laughed lightly and seemed to relax against the tree. He’d have to fix that.
“Wanna know how I knew the size?”
She nodded - barely.
Levi took his time in answering. As he spoke, he moved slowly around the tree until he stood on her left.
“I closed my eyes and pictured you in my arms, with my hands on your skin, under your shirt, sliding over your silky skin.”
A soft moan slipped from her lips.
“Your waist was this big.” He held up his hands as though he was spanning her waist again. “Under all that heavy denim and cotton, you have this tiny little waist. And the way my hands rested on your hips. . .”
“Oh God,” she half-choked, her eyes slipping shut.
“Open your eyes, Joanna,” he murmured, stepping closer and waiting until she did. Her neck and chest had turned the sexiest shade of pink. He lowered his voice even more, knowing she’d have to strain to hear more if she wanted. “I remembered the way your breasts felt in my hands. The way they filled them perfectly, as though they were meant for my hands. And I remembered how they tasted, too.”
Joanna’s chest heaved with each intake of breath.
“The rest,” he said, “I’ve been imagining since the day I first met you at Sal’s.”
He moved to face her again, loving the way her cheeks looked almost aflame. “I’ve spent every night dreaming about what was under your daddy’s clothes and every day wondering how I would ever find out.”
Joanna opened her mouth, but he silenced her. “Shh, I’m not done yet.”
He glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. “Then you gave me the chance I needed. You put me in charge of finding your dress, Miss Joanna. And I’ve got to admit,” he raked her head to foot with an appreciative gaze. “You’re even more unbelievable than I’d imagined. There’s only one problem.”
“W-what?” she squeaked.
“You make it impossible for me to keep my hands to myself.” He moved around the tree again, whispering into the still night air. “I want to touch every inch of you, Joanna. I want to taste every inch of you; to feel your bare skin against mine; and to let you feel me against you.” He paused, swallowed hard and forced back his own groan of anticipation. “To let you feel me inside you.”
Another whimper slipped from her lips. Levi faced her again, but her eyes were closed, her mouth open the tiniest of slits.
“Would you like that, Miss Joanna?” he murmured. If he didn’t stop soon, he was going to need a good long soak in the creek, but he couldn’t help himself.
Her head moved in the bri
efest of nods.
“Remember how good it feels when we kiss?” he asked, and smiled when her fingers moved over her lips at the memory. “How we fit together – that’s what I want to feel again. I want to taste your sweet mouth against mine; I want to feel you shiver at my touch.” He took a moment to catch his own breath. “And then I want to slide my. . .”
“Let’s dance!” Big Bill’s voice shattered the moment.
Joanna’s eyes flew open; her breathing labored and choppy.
“Tell me,” Levi said, grinning down at her. “Would you rather I said all that on the dance floor?”
“N-no,” she stammered through a short laugh. “I, um. . .wow.”
“Yeah, that’s one word for it.” He straightened his already straight tie. “Shall we dance?”
She scanned the area. “I don’t know. Should we? I mean. . .after this. . .I don’t know if I can.”
“Well I can.” He grabbed her hand and almost ran back to the dance floor. He’d be damned if she was going to slip away that easily. Not when they had each other to hold on to.
CHAPTER 14
Jo held onto Levi as tight as she dared, but not nearly as tight as she wanted to. Whenever she thought of what he’d just said to her, her whole body trembled again. She shouldn’t have let him say those things to her; but worse than that, she shouldn’t have been thinking the exact same things he was.
Every step they made on the dance floor, every breath she took, she heard his voice, low and husky, telling her over and over again how much he wanted to kiss her and touch her and. . .and more.
The warmth of his hand on her back soothed her taut nerves, yet at the same time, played havoc with them. A few times she thought she’d collapse right at his feet, but he held her up; her rock, her strength.
“May I?” Mac’s voice sounded behind her.
Levi stopped moving, his gaze moving between Jo and Mac. “Sorry, Mac,” he said. “But Joanna promised me every dance tonight.”
A sly smile spread across her uncle’s face as he leaned closer. “Even if I let her stand on my toes, too?”
Jo laughed, feeling very foolish all of a sudden.
“Just one,” Mac continued. “I’ll give her right back, I promise.”
When Levi made to protest again, Jo stopped him. “It’s okay, Levi. Just this once.” She gave him a meaningful look. “Why don’t you go, uh, cool off for a minute?”
His warm brown eyes crinkled at the corners, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his mouth. “Good idea.”
Jo took Mac’s hand and continued the dance – now standing on his boots instead. As she watched Levi walk towards Ginny, she saw him mouth the same question he’d asked too often already. Where’s Carrie?
You look real pretty, Joey,” Mac said. “Are you having a good time?”
“Yes,” she answered, a little too quickly. “Are you?”
“How couldn’t a fellow have fun here? Lots of good food, fiddle music and the McCaine women – it just don’t get any better than that, does it?”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” He nodded for emphasis. “Now tell me – how’s Travers treating you?”
Out of nowhere, tears burned against her eyes and her bottom lip trembled.
“That bad?” Mac asked with a wink. “Or that good?”
“Oh, Mac,” she breathed. “I know you don’t like him but he’s not what you think. He’d never do anything to hurt me.”
He squeezed her hand a little tighter. “Listen.” His voice was tighter. “I’m not sure what I think about Travers. Knowing he’s not responsible for the Pearson girl makes it a little easier to like him. Not much, but a little.”
He chuckled softly. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to abide him messin’ with you, though. You be real sure before you let yourself get too close. D’you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. In the meantime, though, enjoy every minute of tonight. And if he wants to treat you like a queen, then you darn well let him!”
Jo laughed again and let him twirl her around the floor until the music stopped.
“Time’s up, Mac.” Levi stood at the edge of the floor, arms crossed, trying his best to look stern through his smile. “She’s mine.”
Color flooded his cheeks the moment the words were out.
Mac scoffed. “She ain’t yours yet, Travers.”
“Not yet,” Levi agreed. “But soon.”
Jo stood between the two, not knowing where to look or what to do with her hands. With a low chuckle, Mac kissed her cheek, then shook Levi’s hand.
“Take care of her,” he said. “’Cuz I hear ol’ Newt’s looking for a reason to hurt you.”
“I’ll do my best,” Levi said.
“Hell, Travers,” Mac grinned as he backed away. “You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that.”
The music started again and Jo stepped into Levi’s arms again, laughing at his quiet stories about the people dancing around them.
Four more times other men asked to dance with Jo, and each time, Levi politely but firmly denied them. And each time, her heart warmed a little more until she was sure it would burst. Even though she was probably breaking every one of his toes, he was keeping his promise.
They danced in silence, but the hold they had on each other said everything they didn’t. And if the whole town noticed they danced all night, all the better.
Bill called another break and everyone made their way to the tables for refreshments. Jo had never been doted on before, but that’s precisely what Levi had done all night; filling her cup as soon as she emptied it, and bringing her tasty morsels from the food tables.
As they moved through the crowd, Levi seemed to keep one eye on her and one searching the yard. At first, she thought he was watching for the Carlsons, but after walking past them twice, it was clear that wasn’t the problem at all.
Carrie. Everything always came down to her.
Levi jerked away from her, muttering curses below his breath.
“Wha. . .?” Jo stepped back, staring at him. He turned in a slow circle until she saw the growing wet spot on his shirt.
“Jeez, Travers,” mumbled Big Bill. “I’m sorry as hell.”
“It’s okay,” he said, watching as the spot from Bill’s spilled drink made its way around to the front of his shirt. “I’d better go change,” he grumbled, then turned to Jo. “Will you be okay here or do you want me to take you to Ginny til I get back?”
“No,” she answered with more conviction than she felt. “I’ll wait for you here.”
With an apologetic smile, he hurried off toward his cabin, leaving her to feel all alone in the middle of the crowd.
People moved around her, stopping briefly to chat, then moving on. Seemed she spoke with everyone while she waited for Levi to return. Everyone except Carrie. And what was taking Levi so long, anyway?
“Come on, Bill,” Mac called above the crowd. “Let’s get these people dancing.”
Several men whooped and whistled and before she could catch her breath, the dance floor was full again. Still Levi didn’t return. She dared glace toward his cabin, but couldn’t even tell if he was inside.
Maybe he’d fallen. Maybe he was hurt. Maybe. . .
Fear clutched Jo’s heart. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t. Would he?
Fearing her knees would buckle beneath her, she made her way carefully up to the house, keeping her hands clutched together to keep them from shaking so.
Widow Burke stopped her at the bottom of the stairs, a glass of punch in one hand and a tiny pastry in the other.
“Where’s that sister of yours, Joanna?” Her voice grated against Jo’s spine. “Haven’t seen her all night.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’s here,” Jo answered, trying to sound sure when her heart already knew the truth. “Excuse me, please, Mrs. Burke. I must go check on something.”
“Of course, of course.” The widow had already started walking away,
anyway.
Gripping the rail in her hand, Joanna forced her feet up each and every step until she was inside the door. It was quiet. Too quiet.
“Carrie?”
Nothing.
Jo moved through the parlor and the kitchen, but her sister wasn’t there.
“Carrie?” she called a little louder. Again, nothing.
With her heart pounding in her throat and her eyes already burning behind unshed tears, she mounted the stairs, dreading each step she took. Down the hall until she reached Carrie’s room.
She reached for the door handle, swallowed twice and forced her hand to turn it. Empty. She knew it would be. The problem was, it was emptier than she’d hoped. Gone was Carrie’s doll from her bed, gone were all the primping products she usually stored on her vanity and even without looking, Joanna knew all would be gone from the wardrobe, too.
In the middle of the bed lay a single sheet of rose-colored paper. She didn’t want to read it, didn’t even want to look at it, yet there she was, lifting it from the quilt with fingers that trembled too hard to hold the page steady.
Dear Joanna
We’ve gone on to San Francisco as planned. I’ll write once I’m settled at Aunt Meredith’s. I hope you won’t hate me forever.
Carrie
No. She wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something. But Carrie had taken everything with her. How could she do this? How could he do it? He’d told her he loved her; said he wanted to marry her. He’d even convinced Mac – again – that he was trustworthy. And now he was on his way to San Francisco with her sister. Her younger, much prettier, sister.
Oh, how she hated him. How she hated herself for being so stupid. She knew better than to think any man would choose her over Carrie, yet she’d let him fool her. And he was good, too. Pretending he didn’t want to bed her – it was probably because he was having his way with Carrie the whole time.
She’d never be able to face anyone again. The whole town had seen how she’d carried on with him out on the dance floor; how he’d only danced with her; how she’d come out of hiding for the first time in years to dance with him. With Levi Travers.
The thought of their pity made her hate him more. She made a dash for the chamber set and threw up into the bowl. Over and over, she retched, until there was nothing left, and still her stomach heaved.
