Chief Cook and Bottle Washer (13 page)

"Yes, very close." Emma smiled in fond
remembrance a tremor of loneliness shooting through her.

"Or Sammie Jo's dad. How come?"

Emma shrugged, "I don't like dwelling in the
past. Besides, he wasn't worth talking about . . ."

"Where'd you meet him?"

Emma grew uncomfortable, she should tell him
the truth now that he opened the gate for it. But something kept
her silent. Perhaps because they were going to a dance and the
evening had started out so nicely. She didn't want to ruin that
feeling. "Joel grew up in the same small community. Like Devil's
Corner, everyone knew everyone."

"And Charlie?"

"Charlie was our next door neighbor, so to
speak."

"What about your father? Did he kick you and
Sammie Jo out?"

Emma shook her head and looked him straight
faced. "No, it was nothing that serious. I guess I've given you the
wrong impression about my father, but he wasn't a mean person. Just
a little near-sighted."

Emma preferred thinking of her father in this
manner. She never felt sorry for herself, she simply lived the life
she'd been dealt.

"It's just–he's not comfortable around women.
I learned how to cope with it, through the years, but I didn't want
to subject Sammie Jo to his biased way of life. We are better off
going it on our own, anyway."

"You're not alone anymore Emma." Deke braked
the truck and came to a standstill. His arm rested along the back
of the seat and heat radiated up her spine from the realization.
Their expressions met and held for a long second, till good sense
prevailed. His words held her heart captive.

For just a hesitating second she thought Deke
was going to kiss her again, but he motioned that they had arrived
and the moment was broken.

The community dance hall was held at an old
abandoned warehouse out in the middle of an empty field. Emma
didn't know what to expect from the looks of it. However, from the
moment they walked inside, the atmosphere changed.

Dim lights, a live country band, and lots of
conversation floated about the huge old building wrapped in a
have-fun decor. People were dressed in every fashion, from jeans
and T-shirts to fancy square-dance dresses to evening attire.

The sawdust dance floor took up a large
portion of the middle area, as punch-bowls and snack tables lines
both sides. Small tables were put together all around, and the
place was packed with people mingling everywhere.

Deke's mood lightened the moment they stepped
inside. He'd been howdy'd to death. He took Emma by the elbow and
guided her about, introducing her to friends and neighbors. Before
they were seated good she was asked to dance. Emma glanced at Deke
and he winked. "Go ahead, have some fun, Emma."

Emma tried to beg off, but the old gentleman
was having none of that and swung her into a quick two-step. Emma
did her best to keep up, although the routine wasn't familiar and
she stumbled a couple of times. Didn't rattle the old man a bit, he
just kept on dancing.

After the first dance, the man's wife
appeared and took him in tow. Silently grateful, Emma walked back
to the table.

"That was Henry Parish," Deke informed her.
"He's the custodian at the Sweetwater First National Bank. He used
to have one of the biggest spreads this side of the Red River. But
unfortunately, he only had one son, not enough to keep the ranch
going. He's seventy-four years old and hasn't missed a dance in
over fifty years." Deke informed her. "Have a seat Emma, I'll get
us some punch. Are you hungry?"

"No, not really. You mean to tell me they've
had this particular dance for over fifty years?"

"Not in the same building, of course, but
yes, that's right."

Emma gasped.

"I'll be right back," Deke said, as he bent
closer. Close enough for Emma to get a whiff of his clean woodsy
after-shave. "Remember you are here to enjoy yourself, Emma.
Relax."

Emma nodded woodenly, glancing about.
Regrettably she was letting the boss affect her, she knew
better.

Afraid she might stand out like some kind of
idiot while on the dance floor, she looked around to see if anyone
was staring. No one was. Everyone here seemed to be either absorbed
in conversation with friends or dancing.

Emma let out a little sigh of relief and
relaxed into the chair as she watched several couples on the floor.
By the way they danced she could pick out the ones that had been
together for a while. They seemed to melt into a routine of dances,
their movements coordinated. She'd wanted to line dance since she
had been a kid, but had been afraid to try.

Deke was detained by a beautiful young blonde
woman while Emma was whipped upon the dance floor several more
times. Finally, Clint rescued her.

"So, you enjoying the dance, Emma?"

"Yes, It's–fascinating."

"My big brother treating you right?"

"Y-yes, he went to get some punch," Emma
replied glancing about and seeing him still standing beside the
blonde.

"Uh-huh, got snagged by Lori Martin again, I
see. She's had her eye on Deke a long time, but he never took the
hint. My brother is kinda dense about women. He's had his head
filled with cattle and ranching' too long. He needs to relax and
forget about responsibility."

"Why hasn't he married, or any of you for
that matter?" As soon as the question was out, she wanted to bite
her tongue, but it never stood to reason why these gorgeous men
were not married.

"Deke's been carrying the load since Dad got
sick, reckon he just don't have the time. As for me, well, I've
come close a time or two." Clint's eyes took on a somber
expression. Then a broad smile burst across his face as he pulled
her closer. "Rusty, he's a one woman man, and he'll probably be the
first to settle down. Jake, well, Jake's got bigger plans. He just
don't want to leave Deke in no spot. I look for Jake to be movin'
on, anytime now."

"Would he leave Deke in a spot?" Emma
queried.

"No. Not intentionally. But he can't stay
here forever. Even Deke wouldn't hold him back. You see Jake's
studying law. Put two years in at SMU. Worked his butt off to get
there too. Yeah, I reckon he's the only one with a head on his
shoulders. His education got interrupted, a little, but he's
planning on going back first of next year. He'll probably end up a
lawyer or at least a sheriff. Jake's a tough one, law is what he's
interested in. He'll be the only one of the bunch to really make
anything of himself."

"You don't believe that. Everyone has
potential, Clint. Everyone. Tell me, are you going back to the
rodeo?" Emma looked him in the eye, unable to understand why a man
with so much future would want to break his neck on a bull.

"Probably. Don't have any better sense. Had
an Uncle like that. Guess it's in the blood."

Emma tried to smile.

"Ranching is sorta dull. I mean, heck, I was
raised on a ranch, know everything there is to know about it. It's
so stationary. Once you get a taste of rodeo life, it sorta sticks.
And I've seen that same look in Deke's eye, too. I know it's
dangerous." He whirled her about with a quick dip. "But I like
it."

Emma laughed, just as Deke stepped up to the
two of them.

"May I cut in?" His face was like a storm
cloud.

Why did he look so angry?

"Sure big brother, but don't hog her, she's a
sweet change from the locals around here." Clint laughed and let
Emma go into Deke's arms.

"Where's Abby?"

"Don't know. I run into her old man, said she
left town a while back and hasn't been back."

"That's strange," Deke frowned.

"Yeah, it sure is." Clint hung his head and
walked off.

Dancing with Deke was immensely different,
Emma quickly decided as he took her in his arms and cradled her
softly against him. It wasn't necessarily the kind of dance that a
man has to pull a woman close, but he did, and she didn't
resist.

Their body heat seemed to make both of them
aware of each other and Deke quickly pulled back just a little. She
inhaled the scent of wood, hay, and leather. His cheek felt
amazingly soft when he finally managed to relax enough to let her
rest there.

Emma felt stiff though. Dancing with Clint
was easy, he did all the fancy moves, and all she had to do was
follow. But with Deke she felt an immediate awareness that left her
awkward again. As though her feet didn't belong on the floor. She
sensed he was pulling away from her for some reason and it made her
nervous. If he didn't want to dance with her, why had he broken
in?

"You know Deke, you aren't obligated to dance
with me," Emma muttered. "You've done your share at making me feel
at home."

"That's what you think," Deke pulled away so
he could probe her.

Her hands sweat into his as he stared down
into her puzzled face. She wished he wouldn't look at her like
that–so intense.

"It's pretty obvious, you don't want to dance
with me," she blurted, wanting to run away, before she cried or
said something she'd regret.

"I told you I don't dance," he explained,
pulling her up closer, so that her body fit against his.

"You're doing a pretty fair job of it," she
barely recognized her own voice.

Strange how they seem to fit so perfectly
together. Her lack of composure had her slipping into
overdrive–again. Being in Deke's arms played havoc with her heart
and mind, and Emma couldn't stop the feeling of drowning into him.
She couldn't afford to. She couldn't afford another Charlie.

Her legs no longer belonged to her, her mouth
went dry, her hands melded into his, her heart pounded so loud she
feared detection. God, what was wrong with her? None of the other
men affected her this way. They were only dancing. She had to get a
grip on reality.

The music changed somewhere in between their
heated glances and slowing conversation.

This would never do, Emma's mind screamed in
alarm. She couldn't allow herself to make a fool of herself. She
needed to escape Deke's wonderful arms. She'd beg off politely.

But the music ensconced her, into a
dream-like state. Away from reality. Those big protective arms of
his became her cocoon. Oh yes, this must be what people called a
little bit of heaven, Emma sighed as her head came to rest
comfortably on his shoulder and her eyes closed momentarily.

"You smell nice Emma," his words were softly
spoken, "like Jasmines", his lips almost touching her cheek. He
sounded sincere, yet almost regretful. As though he said those
kinds of things against his own nature.

But Emma didn't care anymore, she was in
Deke's arms, where she wanted to be, and she wanted to enjoy
it–just a little. Even though her brain kept whispering hints of
alarm, she ignored it.

Oh yes, she was enjoying herself now. All the
months of pent up frustration, the months of running and hiding,
and trying to make ends meet didn't seem to matter. Now she was
safe, and warm, and drifting on some gossamer cloud. A cloud where
only she and Deke seemed to exist.

"Waltz across Texas with you in my arms," the
country singer wailed, as Deke continued to hold her close,
continued to whisper sweet little words into her ear, until she
forgot everything but Deke Travers.

Maybe she imagined them. Maybe she invented
them. She couldn't be sure, the way she was feeling.

All to soon someone tapped Deke on the
shoulder and she was whisked into a quick two-step again and lost
in the crowd, with a stranger. Emma glanced about, her eyes flying
open and around the room for Deke, but she no longer saw him, and
her mind came back to reality with a fast jerk.

God, what had she been thinking. Letting a
dance carry her away like that. She probably dreamed Deke's words.
Of course she had, Mr. Cowboy wouldn't say he wanted her on a dance
floor, in front of all these people. Wanted her? She'd better get a
grip on reality fast. Deke Travers was her boss, and only being
kind to her. She had better sense than to go making something of
it.

Mingling during the next number she spotted
Bertha.

"So, how's workin' at the 4 Bar None?" Bertha
came up beside her.

"I'm enjoying it, Bertha." Emma replied glad
to see a familiar face.

"I guess this place is a little overwhelming
for a first timer. But neighbors so seldom get together out here.
Holding a dance once a month was a good excuse to catch up on all
the gossip."

"We never did anything this big, back home, I
mean, not as a community," Emma said as she smiled and her nervous
foot began to keep time with the music.

"So where is that beautiful little baby of
yours? I was anxious to see her again," Bertha blurted giving her a
quick once over, as a friend passed and she waved.

"Cal's watching her," Emma replied, sipping
the punch she hadn't gotten around to drinking.

"Is he now. That rascal. I sorta wish he'd
have come. He could've brought her with him."

"He said he might."

"I hope so. So how they treatin' you at the 4
Bar None?"

"Oh it's wonderful out there Bertha, so quiet
and peaceful, and the Travers bunch are so nice."

Bertha chuckled.

Emma watched a couple out on the floor,
kissing, dancing, and all wrapped up in each other.

Bertha chuckled as her gazed flitted from
Emma to the couple. "That's Bill Gillespi and his new bride. Been
married all of four days now."

"They certainly look happy with each other,
don't they?"

"Four days, honey! They're still
honeymooners. Wait till they been married a while. Then she'll be
over at the food table arranging things, and he'll be off like your
man, Deke there, talking to the other ranchers."

Emma looked in the direction Bertha was
staring. Deke stood in the middle of a small crowd of men, his face
serious, his head nodding.