Heart of Texas Vol. 3 (27 page)

At social events such as this, Wade made a point of dancing with the older single women, widows and the like. Women his mother's and grandmother's ages. Tonight, however, he couldn't make himself do it. The only person he wanted to hold in his arms was Amy Thornton—his date. So far, unfortunately, he'd only seen her from a distance.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Dovie sneaked in the question as she danced past him on Frank's arm. The smile in her eyes told Wade she was well aware of how miserable he was.

Dovie Boyd Hennessey had a mean streak in her, he thought grimly. One that cut to the bone.

“Pretty as a picture, isn't she?” Frank asked as they glided past him a second time.

Wade didn't need to ask who they meant, either. But then he'd made it fairly obvious. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off Amy all night. He was about to turn away and bury his sorrows in a plate from the buffet when the dance ended. Whether by luck or design, Amy stood next to him. She slid her arm through his and gave a deep sigh.

“I've got to sit down for a bit,” she said to him. “My feet are killing me.”

Here she was, the woman he'd been patiently waiting to dance with all night, and for the life of him, Wade couldn't think of a sensible thing to say.

She gazed up at him as though she'd been anticipating this moment the entire evening. “I hope you don't mind.”

“No, ah…sure.” His tongue refused to cooperate and work properly. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Grady and Caroline seated close by. Caroline's feet rested in his lap and Grady was rubbing her nylon-covered toes. The scene was intimate, the husbandly gesture loving and thoughtful. The ache inside Wade caught him unawares. In the past year a number of his friends had married, and while he was happy for them, he didn't feel the need for a wife and family himself. He'd always seen his life as complete, viewed his pastoral duties as too demanding for marriage. His satisfaction came from his work, and it was enough—or so he believed. In that moment, however—and other moments like it—he felt keenly alone.

“We can sit here,” he said, finally clearing his head. He escorted Amy to an empty section of seats and sat down next to her.

“Thank you,” she whispered and sent him a warm smile.

Wade nearly drowned in her beautiful eyes. He saw her slip out of her shoes and wiggle her toes a couple of times. Then, feeling remiss, he asked, “Would you like something to drink?”

She nodded, her eyes grateful. “That would be wonderful, but nothing alcoholic.”

Wade wanted to kick himself, convinced that the minute he left someone would take his seat. He'd been waiting for an opportunity like this and now he was going to lose it.

Sure enough, as soon as he reached the punch bowl, Lyle Whitehouse was standing beside her, leaning against a chair. He looked like he was about to sit down when he suddenly stared over at Wade. Then he nodded and after a couple of seconds walked away.

Wade made it back in record time, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his effort to get to her before some other rancher did.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her the plastic cup. “Uh, how do you like the dance so far?” he asked, trying to make small talk.

“I'm having a wonderful time.”

No doubt, Wade mused darkly, seeing as she'd danced every dance, and each one had been with a different partner.
Not
including him. But when Pete Hadley and the band started a favorite song of Wade's from the movie
Dirty Dancing,
“She's like the Wind,” it was impossible to hold still.

“I know your shoes are off,” he said, “but would you care to take a spin?”

Wade wasn't sure what he expected, but not such a quick agreement. “I'd like that.”

She slipped her feet back into her shoes and he extended a hand to help her up. They walked onto the dance floor and he took her in his arms. She was tiny, eight or nine inches shorter than he was, which put the top of her head level with his shoulder. Yet they fit together nicely.

Wade wasn't exactly light on his feet, but he could manage a simple slow dance. Amy followed his lead as though they'd been partners for years. He hummed along with the song and was surprised when her soft voice joined his, harmonizing. They smiled at each other, and he gathered her closer.

That was when it happened. The baby kicked. Wade's eyes widened at the strength of the movement. “I didn't realize I'd be able to feel the baby,” he said with awe. “That's really something.”

“I think she likes the music.”

“She?”

“Or he, but since I don't know, I decided to call the baby Sarah.”

“And what if she's a he? Do you have a boy's name picked out?”

“Joseph.”

That was appropriate, he thought, remembering that Frank had reminded him of the biblical story of Joseph and Mary. Appropriate and a little uncanny.

“A good solid name,” he murmured, trying not to let his reaction show.

The song ended far too soon to suit him. He hated to ask Amy to dance again, knowing how worn-out she was, but he couldn't resist. “One more dance?”

She looked up and nodded. He might have been mistaken, but she seemed pleased that he'd asked.

A
MY KNEW HOW
C
INDERELLA
must have felt the night of the ball when she first danced with her prince, because that was exactly how she felt just then. All evening she'd waited for Wade to ask her; when it seemed he never would, she gave up. Then the minute she sat down he'd asked.

This was quite possibly the most wonderful night of her life, she mused as Wade held her close. The baby had decided to take up marching and was halfway to Pretoria when she did a swift about-face and kicked Wade. To Amy's delight, he'd been fascinated.

Her fairy godmother, in the guise of Dovie Hennessey, caught sight of her on the dance floor with Wade and winked. Amy winked back and managed to stifle a laugh.

Never in all her life had Amy been this popular with men. From the moment she arrived, she'd been bombarded with requests to dance. When she was first approached, she'd hoped Wade would explain to the others that she was his date. He hadn't done that. Amy knew he hadn't been excited about taking her to the dance and so, rather than burden him with her company, she'd accepted. But truth be known, Wade McMillen was the man she wanted to dance with, more than anyone.

He'd stood by most of the evening, watching her with everyone else, and that had been a bitter disappointment. Only she wasn't disappointed now.

Once they were on the dance floor, Wade didn't seem eager to leave. Amy didn't want to, either. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend that the man who held her was in love with her and wanted this baby. It was a silly fantasy, born of her need to create a secure happy world for her child.

She'd loved Alex with all her heart, but she'd been foolishly blind to his selfishness. For most of her life she'd been more parent than child to her own mother. It had come as no surprise that her mother cut herself off from her just at the time she'd needed her most. Disappointed though she was, Amy could handle the rejection because it was such a familiar experience. Even an expected one.

But Alex had lied to her and hurt her. Deeply. That was one reason this attraction to Wade had surprised her. Now that she was in his arms, even if it was on a dance floor, she couldn't make herself think of him as her pastor. He was a man. Vital, real and handsome.

The baby kicked again, harder this time, and Amy heard Wade chuckle.

“She's got good taste in music,” he whispered close to her ear.

“Her mommy's fond of Roy Orbison, too.”

“Would you mind if I…” Wade paused as though he wasn't sure he should proceed.

“You'd like to feel the baby?” she asked, tilting her head up just enough to look into his eyes.

“If you don't mind.”

“I don't.” She took his hand and pressed his palm against her stomach, holding it there. Sarah cooperated beautifully and Amy watched as his face took on a look of reverence and surprise.

“My goodness,” he whispered. “That really is something,” he said again.

“You should feel her from my end,” Amy teased.

His expressive eyes brightened and he broke into a full smile.

“What took you so long?” she asked, feeling content. “The evening was half over before you even asked me to dance.”

“I'm a fool. But—” he grinned sheepishly “—I'm a fast learner.”

“Good.”

The rest of the evening passed far too quickly for Amy. She could have danced with him all night, especially those slow, languid dances. What pleased her the most, perhaps, was how comfortable she felt with Wade. For a few hours it was as though all the worries and problems she'd carried alone all this time had been lifted from her shoulders.

Reality would return soon enough, but for now it was easy to pretend, easy to push her troubles aside and concentrate, instead, on the handsome prince smiling down on her.

Then it was midnight and time to head home. Following the dance, Wade and Amy were invited to a party at Glen and Ellie's place. Amy would have liked to go, but realized Wade had church services early the next morning. It didn't seem fair to keep him up half the night simply because she was in a party mood.

They sang along with the radio on the ride back into Promise. The drive out had been spent in silence, and while they'd done little real talking that evening, Amy felt they'd reached a tacit understanding. She felt they'd achieved an appreciation and acceptance of each other that had been missing previously.

Wade parked under the large weeping willow in front of the house. Moonlight filtered through the branches and cast a silvery glow about them.

Amy reflected on her unexpectedly wonderful evening. Her magical evening with Wade McMillen. Dancing with him, being held by him, was everything she'd known it would be. And she knew with certainty that this was the kind of man she wanted as a father to her child, the kind of man she wanted to marry one day. She'd given up thinking men like him still existed.

“I can't thank you enough,” she said, leaning back against the seat and closing her eyes. “Oh, Wade, I had such a lovely time.”

“I enjoyed myself, too.”

She sighed, her heart full of joy and, yes, gratitude.

“The Fourth of July will be here before we know it,” he said.

Amy had heard about the annual Willie Nelson Fourth of July picnic. The community faithfully invited Willie every year, but he'd never managed to come—and then he'd shocked everyone by showing up last spring for the annual rodeo and chili cook-off.

“Do you have any plans?” Wade asked.

“For the Fourth? None.” Her hopes soared; surely he'd mentioned the holiday as a preamble to inviting her to join him. It was crazy to think this way, for a lot of reasons. She suspected he was reluctant to become romantically involved because of his work. But she couldn't keep her heart from hoping…And for her, the timing was difficult, to say the least.

“I understand the community has a big picnic every year in the park,” she added, encouraging him to continue.

“I've never been.”

“You haven't?” Amy couldn't imagine what had kept him away.

“My family has a big get-together every year. It's quite a shindig.”

Amy envied him his family.

“I was just thinking,” he said, “that maybe you'd like to come this year.”

“With you?”

“Unless, of course, you'd rather attend the community festivities.”

Amy was afraid to reveal how eager she was to go with him. “No, I'd rather…I—thank you.” She smiled tentatively. “I'd enjoy meeting your family.” The baby stirred and Amy bit her lip. In retrospect, perhaps now wouldn't be the best time to meet Wade's parents. She could only imagine what they'd think when their preacher son arrived with a pregnant woman. That gave new meaning to the words
family outing.

As a child Amy used to wonder what it would be like to be part of a traditional family. A real family, where people cared about each other, where they shared things and celebrated together. A mother and father, brother and sister, grandparents. She'd experienced none of that, and she longed for it.

“Are you sure you want me to meet your parents…like this?” she felt obliged to ask.

“I wouldn't have asked you otherwise,” Wade told her with a sincerity that couldn't be questioned.

They sat side by side, talking quietly for another five minutes before Amy yawned. She didn't want this incredible evening ever to end, but her eyes were closing despite her resolve.

“Let's get you inside,” Wade suggested. He had his car door open before she could protest.