“I made a mistake.”
“Probably.”
“I promised a dance.”
“You did.”
“I cannot dance.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“The entire town knows.”
He looked murderous.
The Ranch Woman laughed.
“Come on.”
She took his hand.
He resisted.
She pulled.
He outweighed her substantially, so physically nothing happened.
She stared at him.
He sighed.
Then followed.
His first attempt nearly ended in injury.
He stepped on her boot.
Apologized.
Turned the wrong direction.
Apologized again.
Almost collided with the Storekeeper.
Refused to apologize for that.
The Ranch Woman laughed the entire time.
“You’re enjoying my humiliation.”
“I’ve waited three years.”
“That sentence applies to too many things.”
Her laughter stopped for half a second.
The Widowed Rancher realized what he had implied.
His ears reddened.
The Ranch Woman smiled slowly.
“Interesting.”
“Forget it.”
“Absolutely not.”
He looked toward the exit.
She tightened her grip.
“Don’t run.”
“I’m not running.”
“You’re considering it.”
“Yes.”
She moved closer as the music slowed.
“Stay.”
He did.
The room faded around them.
The Widowed Rancher’s hand rested carefully at her waist.
Her fingers lay over his shoulder.
This dance required less movement.
He managed.
The Ranch Woman looked into his eyes.
“Better.”
“I dislike your tone.”
“You’re improving.”
“Barely.”
“That counts.”
He swallowed.
Then said, “You’re beautiful.”
The Ranch Woman missed a step.
He smiled.
“Now who can’t dance?”
“That was underhanded.”
“What?”
“You never say things like that.”
“I’m learning.”
She looked away because suddenly the lanterns seemed too bright.
His hand tightened slightly.
“Ranch Woman.”
She looked back.
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
The music ended.
Neither immediately moved.
People around them applauded.
Not for them.
Probably.
The Widowed Rancher became suspicious anyway.
“Everyone is staring.”
“Let them.”
“I hate this town.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Tonight I do.”
She took his hand.
They walked outside.
Stars covered the sky.
Cold air cut through the warmth they carried from the hall.
The Widowed Rancher offered his coat.
The Ranch Woman accepted.
They stood near the hitching rail.
Neither hurried toward the horses.
The Ranch Woman looked at him.
“What?”
“You keep asking that.”
“You keep looking.”
“I’ve been looking for three years.”
He became still.
She stepped closer.
“Only now you notice.”
The Widowed Rancher lifted one hand.
Touched a curl near her cheek.
He had touched her hands.