by Natalie Dean
Her triumphant smile slipped into another kind of smile. A softer, more intimate one. It rocked him back, though he stood rooted to the spot. What was this between them? This…understanding? This connection?
When Harley thought about it too long, like he was doing now, he couldn’t avoid the fact that everything within him wanted to come close to her. To know the feeling of her soft body in his arms. Of her lips on his.
He gasped and took a step back. He had to get out of there. This had been a terrible idea.
Without completely turning tail and running, he dipped his head. “Thanks for agreeing to see me. I—I brought more meat. Chance can give me a check at church or something. I—I’m just glad you’re no longer sore at me.”
Then, without waiting for her response, he turned around and nearly ran from the house.
He wasn’t proud, nor did he feel brave, but at least he’d gained his forgiveness and set things to right. If he never got paid for the meat, he’d count this experience as both a good thing and a terrible idea.
Adeline was still reeling from the intensity of the look Harley had given her before he ran out of the house. She’d thought for certain that, after he apologized, he’d realized there was something more between them than simply being acquaintances. But instead, he’d run away.
Had he really only come to make sure she wasn’t mad at him? Was that the only reason?
She felt sick to her stomach and rested her hand there. From where she stood at the window, she could see Harley flicking his reins to send the horse off back toward his ranch. His straight back disappeared around the bend, and with it, her hope to grasp an understanding of the man.
When she’d seen Harley pull into the yard with a side of beef in the back of his wagon, something she didn’t expect Chance to have ordered again so soon, she’d wondered at his appearance.
Then, when he’d seemed pleased that she’d been the one to open the door, she’d found herself surprised and yet happy to see him again. After their meeting at the brook, she’d not thought that possible, but when he stood there before her, she couldn’t deny that she still had feelings for the man.
But what was she to make of this? How was she to reconcile their obvious connection with him running away—again? Did he mean to push and pull her back and forth? Was he as uncertain of his own emotions that he couldn’t begin to understand hers? That seemed likely as most men she’d known were like that.
Yet what was she to make of his appearance today? Was she really to believe that he couldn’t bear for her to be sore at him? If that were the case, then shouldn’t he consider that there was something much greater than a simple misunderstanding?
A smile slipped onto her lips, and she let out a small sigh. Perhaps she’d been too hasty to discount Mr. Swinney after their last encounter. Perhaps there was still hope for him yet.
Chapter 8
“I don’t think I can go.” Jasmine burst into another fit of tears and buried her face against Adeline’s shoulder.
Adeline rubbed soft circles against the girl's gingham dress and waited until her friend calmed down somewhat.
“Now, dear,” Adeline began when it seemed the woman had somewhat composed herself. “I know that things are…difficult right now.” More tears brimmed in the woman’s eyes. “But you’re only going to harm yourself if you don’t come to the dance tonight. You like to have fun, don’t you?”
The woman nodded.
“And you enjoy dancing, don’t you?”
She nodded again.
“Then why don’t we get you all dolled up and show that fella you don’t need him to have a good time. That you are just fine on your own.”
“On my own,” Jasmine said, more tears flooding her eyes and spilling over onto her cheeks. “All alone.”
“Well, not exactly, dear. You’ve got me and the other ladies. You won’t be alone, I promise.” She looked on the edge of yet another breakdown, but Adeline tried again to redirect her attention. “Perhaps you’ll meet someone new at the dance.”
“Do you think so?” she said, sniffing.
Adeline thought it impossible that the woman wouldn’t at least meet a few someones, whether or not they were eligible young men was another matter, but Jasmine Rose Hammond was known for her ability to create conversation out of thin air, so Adeline had a feeling she’d have no trouble at the dance.
“Positive,” Adeline said.
Jasmine sniffed, wiping at her eyes with a dainty handkerchief. “Thank you, Adeline. You are so kind.”
“Not at all. You are my friend, so of course, I’ll listen to your troubles.”
Jasmine let out a self-depreciating laugh. “You want troubles, I’ll give you a list a mile long. I cannot believe I was jilted—yet again.”
Adeline looked over at her friend, worried that this line of conversation would bring her back to tears, but she seemed to be past self-pity. “It is hard to believe.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Jasmine said, leaning closer to the mirror and examining her puffy eyes. “I’m not a catch like some women, and I chatter—I know I do—and I’m allergic to chickens and cows and, for goodness sake, I can’t even cook, but I thought this man would be different.” She let out a burdened sigh and looked over at Adeline. “You know?”
Adeline’s mind flashed to an image of Harley, his gray eyes locked on hers. “Yes, I know,” she said, turning her attention back to the mirror and fixing her hair.
“Perhaps there is no one for us.”
“Now don’t talk like that,” Adeline said more firmly than she’d intended. “You’re not hopeless, and we’ll find men to marry. I know we will.”
Jasmine offered her a kind look that said she wished it were true but wasn’t holding out hope. “Now let’s get into our dresses before Chance leaves us behind.”
The ride to the barn where the dance was being held was a short one from the Redburn house, and the moment they neared the barn, they could already hear music. Jasmine’s spirits were much improved from earlier, and Adeline found that even she was looking forward to an evening of fun and dancing.
They walked into the barn and many eyes—those of men and women—turned toward them. It was no secret in Bent that Chance had a whole passel of women under his roof and that most would be married off to the available men in the town.
Adeline couldn’t stop herself from looking into the faces of those in the crowd, her eyes searching out one particular set of muscular arms and the firm set of a certain jaw. Before she could find him—if he were even there—Jasmine pulled her onto the dance floor, and they hopped into a lively jig.
The night wore on, Adeline still looking for Harley and mostly giving up when she only caught a side glance of him before she was asked by yet another young man to dance. Now, as she sipped punch in an effort to cool down from the last jig, she thought she caught sight of his mussed hair. Considering the ramifications of going up to him and asking for a dance, she had just set her cup down when a hand alighted on her shoulder.
“Miss Miller—Adeline.”
She jolted away from the touch, surprised, only to turn and see that it was Earl. “Oh, hello, Mr. Peters.” He raised his eyebrows as if in reprimand and she capitulated. “Earl.”
“How are you this fine evening? Enjoying yourself?”
His cotton shirt was damped at the neck with sweat and opened a button too low in her estimation. She’d seen him on the dance floor with pretty girl after pretty girl, and now to find him speaking to her gave her a sort of thrill.
Her gaze wandered to where she’d thought she’d seen Harley.
“Would you care to dance?”
Adeline opened her mouth to say no, but then she caught Harley’s gaze. He looked between her and Earl and if she wasn’t mistaken, she caught shock in his gaze. Perhaps a little competition would be good for him.
Turning to Earl, she extended her hand with only a modicum of shame for her devious plan. “I’d love to.”
> His grin widened, and he pulled her out onto the dance floor with a flourish. They slipped into an easy dance, the conversation centered on the usual things like the weather and how the evening had been for them both. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught the towering shape of Harley leaving the barn.
“Would you excuse me?” she said abruptly, only then realizing that she’d cut Earl off in the middle of what he was saying.
“Won’t you finish the dance with me?” he asked, holding her a little tighter.
She grimaced inwardly and chastised herself for the petty trick she’d played on Harley, even though he didn’t realize it. She had never been a woman to play games like this, but here she’d done just that.
And the worst part? She’d not only injured Harley; she was about to disappoint Earl, too.
Harley scuffed his boot along the dusty ground. He’d just needed air, that was all. Or so he’d told himself and those who asked if he was leaving. It would be rude to leave too early, but if it meant staying in the barn and watching Adeline grin and cling to one of his hired hands, he’d pass.
He shook his head in disgust as he walked toward the fence line. He leaned up against it, his forearms pressing to the rough wood, and stared up to the heaven of stars above him. Now that was a stunning sight.
A memory of his father taking him out to the middle of their field with a blanket over one arm and a few hot, sweet rolls wrapped up in the other. They’d laid out the blanket and sat down, enjoying the rolls then laying back to take in the night sky.
His gut ached thinking about that memory, the time with his father now over. His mother only a memory as well. Why did the good things in life have to pass so quickly?
“Har—uh, Mr. Swinney?”
He jerked forward and uttered a silent oath.
“Are you all right?”
The scent of sweetness followed the appearance of Adeline Miller. “What are you doing out here?”
“You jerked forward. Did you get a splinter in your arm? That wood is awfully rough.”
He wanted to roll his eyes, but something about the look of concern in the expression stilled his words. “I—I might have.”
“Let me see,” she said, angling him toward the light. She stood to the side as he rolled up his cuff, then leaned in close to see.
He felt her warm breath on his skin and her soft touch against his arm. It made his heart pound in an unfamiliar rhythm, and he had to swallow several times to help gain his composure.
“There,” she said, yanking back with her fingers. “Got it.” And, right between her pointer and thumbnail rested a good-sized splinter.
“Thank you,” he said, quickly rolling down his sleeve and taking a step back from her.
“Do you prefer to be outside when there is a party on?” she asked, her head tilting in a teasing manner.
“Not always. But sometimes.”
Her face was half in the shadow of the darkened pasture and half-lit by the lanterns surrounding the barn. It made her features more pronounced but did nothing to mask her beauty. He looked away to the night sky.
“It’s nice out here.”
She followed his gaze. “It is,” she admitted. Then her hand jutted out to latch on to his arm. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I lost my balance.”
He turned away so she wouldn’t see his grin.
“Are you having a good time?” he asked. Though he really wanted to ask why she was dancing with Earl. Had she already moved on past him to the next available man? And what did Earl have that he didn’t? Then he had to remind himself that it was his doing she had been turned down.
“I suppose,” she said.
“That doesn’t sound convincing.”
He caught her shrug in his peripheral vision. “You didn’t ask me to dance.”
Now he felt more than saw the full force of her attention on him. He kept his gaze skyward but tried to remain calm. “You looked…busy.”
When she didn’t answer right away, he looked over at her. She had her arms crossed and was giving him an assessing look.
“What?”
“I would have said yes.”
“What?”
“If you’d asked me to dance. I would have said yes.”
He didn’t know why, but Harley felt a peculiar warmth puddle in his middle at her words. At the simple way she said them. There was no chastisement, only raw honesty.
“I’m not a very good dancer.”
“Neither am I,” she countered. Then she took a step forward. “Do you not like to dance, Mr. Swinney?”
“Call me Harley,” he said before he could think better of it.
“All right. Do you not like to dance, Harley?”
Harley felt the internal battle he waged grow to a deafening level at her use of his name. The sound of it rolling off her lips felt right somehow.
“I—I do. Sometimes.”
“Then would you like to—”
“There you are!”
Both Adeline and Harley took steps back from one another at the same time. Apparently, both of them hadn’t realized how close they’d moved to the other person.
Earl bounded up like a puppy and grinned, as if oblivious to the awkward situation he’d just stepped into.
“Earl,” Harley acknowledged.
“Howdy, boss,” he said with a grin.
Adeline looked between them then back at Earl, who looked back at her. After a moment of this, he spoke again. “I was, uh, looking for you for another dance. You know, you said you’d be right back.”
While it was hard to tell in the dim light, it looked to Harley like Miss Miller was blushing. Was that because she was embarrassed to be found outside with Harley? Or did she not want Earl seeing them together?
“I’ll be in shortly if you’d like to claim another dance,” she said, though it sounded diplomatic and stiff to Harley.
“Right. Sure thing,” Earl said. He looked more cautiously between them then turned to go.
“You’d better head in,” Harley heard himself say, though the last thing he wanted was for her to leave. “Wouldn’t want to miss that next dance.”
She looked over at him, the half-shadow hiding her true emotions. “I suppose I’ll say goodnight then, Mr. Swinney.” And with that, she walked back toward the barn.
He watched her go, and a strange ache emanated from his chest. He wished it were him she was going to dance with. That she’d called him Harley instead of Mr. Swinney. That he’d made her smile before she went.
You have no one to blame but yourself.
He cringed at the internal monologue, though he knew it was right. He’d missed his chance to ask her to dance. She’d even told him she’d have said yes. There was almost no risk in it. In fact, he could go back into the dance now, find her, and ask for the dance he’d craved. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
Running a hand through his disheveled hair, he turned back to the darkened pasture. The memory with his father coming back into his mind. What had they talked about that night?
As if on cue, his father’s words resonated in his heart. “Son, you never know when life will ask you to take a risk. Maybe it’ll be about the ranch, or maybe it’ll be about a woman. Always say yes to that, son. Always.”
He remembered his young-self asking what his father meant, but the only explanation he’d been given was to say yes when the chance appeared.
Were those words for now? Was marriage really the last thing he wanted? Or, could marriage to a woman like Adeline be better than he could imagine? Was it possible that he’d had it wrong this whole time?
He remembered her gentle ministrations as she pulled the splinter from his arm. Was that a small view into what marriage could be like? Each helping one another? Not the distraction he’d imagined but a blessing instead?
Filled with a courage he hadn’t anticipated, Harley strode toward the open barn door. He had a mind to dance, and he wanted to dance with Adeline Miller. Perhaps
he would also see if he could call her Adeline instead of Miss Miller.
As he stepped into the doorway behind a few others catching the light breeze from outside, he stopped where he stood. She was in the middle of the dance floor with Earl again, but this time he had pulled her close. The song was slower and, as they swayed back and forth, Harley saw something that made him feel sick to his stomach.
Her smile. It was warm and genuine and…focused on Earl.
Stepping back into the night before she could see him, Harley turned toward the corral where he’d put his horse. He’d spent his time convincing himself that he didn’t need a wife and then, when he was open to considering the idea, he came to find it was too late.
Maybe that’s what his father had meant. You seized something when you were given the chance or else it would be snatched away from you like chaff in the wind.
Chapter 9
Adeline barely slept that night. She tossed and turned, her mind going back to her conversation with Harley. He had asked her to call him by his Christian name, something she’d hoped for from the beginning, but then when Earl interrupted, he’d all but pushed her into his arms.
The reality made her mad and more than a little frustrated. It was clear for her to see that Harley fancied her, at least on some level, yet he wouldn’t do anything about it.
The early morning fingers of dawn stretched across her room, and she decided to stop fighting the bedsheets and get up instead. Taking her journal, she went down to the back porch. Wrapped in a thick shawl and armed with a blanket, she sat down and took in the beauty of the sunrise.
Breathing in deeply of the crisp spring air, she recounted the night's events in her journal ending with her dance with Earl. He was handsome and a good dancer, but there was something about him that felt…wrong. As if a part of him were missing from the picture that made up Earl Peters.
