Second Chance Brides (17 page)

He meandered back to the food table. “I…uh…could fetch some clean water, if’n y’all need some.”

“Why, ’tis a kind offer you make, young man.” The Irish gal dumped the rinse bucket and handed it to him. “If you’d be so kind as to refill this, I’ll have another slice of pie waitin’ for you when you return.”

His heart jumped, and he grabbed the pail. “Yes’m, that sounds fair to me.”

He hurried around to the back of the church where a well had been dug, and in a matter of minutes, he’d filled the pail and returned to the washing table.

Jack leaned against one side of it, eating a cookie. She scowled at him. Butch grinned. Knowing he’d get to eat another piece of pie made his whole world look better, for the moment, at least.

He slowly ate his second slice, closing his eyes and savoring each bite.

“You’re gonna have a bellyache, eating all that.”

Butch eyed Jack, who held another cookie in her hand. “What about you? How many cookies have you eaten?”

She made a face at him, shoved her treat into her mouth, and then helped herself to another one. The rate she was eating those, there wouldn’t be any left by the end of the next dance.

Dan Howard wandered back to the table, looking a bit green himself. He fiddled with the brim of his hat and stirred up dust with the toe of his boot. Miss Bennett kept casting glances his way, her cheeks turning red. Finally, Mr. Howard closed the distance between him and the woman. “Would you…ah…care to…ah…dance with me?”

Miss Bennett nodded, looking shy, but her eyes glimmered. She looped her arm through the livery owner’s, and they strode off together. Butch finished his pie and got a sudden idea.

It wouldn’t work.

But then, maybe it would.

He’d never know if he didn’t try.

He set the plate on the table and walked back to Jack. She tilted her head to look up at him.

“What do you want?”

This was a stupid idea. He knew it, but he had to ask. “Would you care to dance?”

Jack’s blue eyes widened, and he thought she would gag. She fanned her hand in front of her face and looked as if she couldn’t catch her breath. Finally, she said, “Eww…you’ve got to be kidding.”

Butch shook his head, not quite ready to give up.

“I don’t know how to dance, and besides, I’m wearing pants. How weird would that be? Anyway, I wouldn’t dance with you if you were the last person on earth.” She crossed her arms, hiked up her little chin, and marched off.

Butch’s insides ached as bad as when his pa had beaten him. He knew she wouldn’t dance with the likes of him—and anyway, he didn’t even know how to dance. She’d probably just kept him from making a fool of himself. Still, her rejection ached as bad as a gunshot wound would. Someone touched his forearm, and he jumped.

“Don’t let the lass bother you.” The pretty Irish gal—Miss O’Neil, he thought—smiled up at him. “She’s at an age where she’s not yet attracted to males. Give her a few years, and all that will change.”

He offered the woman a half-smile and then sauntered away, tired of hearing the festive music. Jack wouldn’t change, no matter how many years passed. Why did she have to hate him? What had he ever done to her?

One thing was certain: He would never ask her to dance again. Ever.

Jack stomped back home, her irritation burning, not so much from Butch’s offer to dance as from her reaction to his surprising question. Imagine, her dancing with Butch Laird. Why, her friends would never let her live that down. She shivered and turned around, walking backward. Her steps slowed, and her gaze scanned the crowd. He was gone.

His rank pig stink made her nearly retch, although she had to admit he didn’t smell nearly as bad tonight. In fact, he looked as if he had on clean clothes. Had he been planning all day to ask her to dance? Had he gotten cleaned up just to look nicer for the social?

Something in Jack’s gut twisted as she remember the hurt in his black eyes when she so adamantly refused to dance with him. She didn’t like disappointing people, but why should it bother her to upset him?

He was her enemy.

But hadn’t the preacher said something about loving your enemies? She shuddered as a sick feeling twisted her belly at the thought of loving Butch Laird. She’d rather eat a grub worm.

She picked up a stick and dragged it along the picket fence in front of Polly and Dolly’s house, making a clicking sound with each picket it hit. Why did she feel guilty for being mean to Butch? The fact that she’d told a falsehood that caused him to spend two days in jail still bothered her. She heaved a sigh and flung the stick into the street.

Too late, she noticed the cowboy riding there. His horse squealed and kicked up his hooves when the stick hit its flanks. “Hey, kid!”

Jack took off running and dashed between the Dykstra house and Mr. Castleby’s. She ran past her house and down the side of the Sunday house where Luke had lived before he married her ma. The house sat empty now, so she opened the door and darted inside. Her side ached, and her chest heaved. She peeked out the window, relieved when she didn’t see the cowboy looking for her.

“It was an accident.” She dropped the curtain and looked around the dim room. “I didn’t mean to hit that horse.”

Butch claimed he hadn’t meant to hit her at the river that day, and she kinda sorta believed him. But hadn’t he done other things to her and her friends?

She sat in the rocking chair across from the cold fireplace and rocked. Why did she struggle so much with her feelings for Butch? Was she being unfair to him?

He had been nice tonight. Hadn’t done anything to upset her besides asking her to dance. And he’d politely offered to fetch that water for Shannon.

Jack squeezed her head with her palms. All this thinking about Butch was making her head hurt. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he seemed, but the thing was, if she befriended him, every other kid in school would turn against her. And how could she stand that stench all the time?

Nope, they just had to stay enemies. There was no way around that.

C
HAPTER
12

L
eah swayed to the rhythm of the lively music. Dan Howard wasn’t a half-bad dancer, especially compared to the other men she’d sashayed around the grass with tonight. Working at the food table had kept her busy, but now that most everything was gone, she had no excuse not to dance with the men.

“That was some good-tastin’ pie, Miss Bennett. As good as my own ma used to make. You ought to open up a bakery.”

Leah felt her cheeks warm at Dan’s compliment, and being so near to him made her pulse race. “Thank you. But what do you mean by ‘used to make’? I know your ma was doing poorly that day I visited, but does she not bake at all anymore?”

Dan pursed his lips and stared over her head. “She hasn’t been doin’ too good the past few weeks.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Does she need some help with the house or the cooking?”

Dan’s dark gaze pierced hers, sending delicious tingles throughout her body. Not since Sam had a man had such an effect on her.

“That’s right nice of you to offer, ma’am. I don’t like asking for favors, but Ma could use some help, and it would do her good to have another woman’s company.”

Leah smiled. “Then I shall go visit her under one condition.”

Dan’s eyes narrowed, as if he suspected she was going to ask for the world. “What would that be?”

“That you quit calling me ma’am. It makes me feel like a spinster.”

Dan leaned his head back and laughed, warming her face and delighting her whole being. For a big man, he was quite comely. His dark hair and eyes blended well with his tanned face, sun-kissed from hours of working outside.

He pulled her a tiny bit closer and leaned down. “You’ve got a deal…ma’am.”

“Oh, you.” Leah smacked him lightly on the chest and felt it rumble as he chuckled. “Do you think your mother would be offended if I offered to do some cleaning or baking?”

Dan twisted his lips to one side, and he gazed up at the sky. “I don’t know, but she needs more help than I can give. Maybe I should just hire you to clean house.”

Leah stopped dancing and held up her hand.

Dan glanced around at the moving couples surrounding them and fidgeted. “Did I say somethin’ wrong?”

“I offered my services freely. I will be offended if you try to pay me.”

His lips twitched, and a gleam entered his gaze. He tipped his hat. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve been put in my place, well and good. But we should get back to dancing unless you’d prefer someone else for a partner.”

Leah peered over her shoulder and saw several men staring at them, looking as if they’d like to cut in. She held out her hand to Dan and allowed him to pull her close. If it were proper, she’d only dance with him. She enjoyed how safe she felt in his thick arms. She loved his eyes, and how his deep voice sounded almost like a caress. He made her feel special with the looks he gave her and the gentleness of his touch. She never figured on falling for a livery owner, but she had.

Did she dare hope he might one day come to care for her?

The music ended, and several other men swarmed Leah. Dan stepped back, looking disappointed that their time together had ended. “Maybe you could save me another dance before things end tonight?”

Leah smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”

Dan tipped his hat and started to walk away, but he stopped. “When this shindig is over, I’ll help you get all the dishes back to Polly’s and see you home.”

Leah curtsied, but another man claimed her hand as the music started. By the end of the social, she couldn’t have said who all she’d danced with, but her feet ached, and her heart was full. Dan had stood at the outskirts of the dancers, watching her, almost as if keeping guard. The only other person he’d danced with had been Polly Dykstra. She and her sister came over to watch the dancing after finishing up at their businesses. But with all the lonely men at the social, the two older women were soon in the midst of it all. Leah smiled. Polly and Dolly had only lasted for three dances, but when they left, their cheeks were rosy, and both women were smiling. That was probably the best time they’d had in a long while.

Leah stacked the plates, surprised to find almost half a pie left when she lifted up a towel that had covered the dish. Had something been wrong with it? She swiped her finger through some juice on the empty side of the plate and stuck it in her mouth. The sweet taste of apples and cinnamon teased her senses.

“Ah ah, no sampling the wares.” Dan Howard stood on the other side of the table, watching her with sparkling eyes.

“I just wondered if something was wrong with this pie since some of it was left.”

“I think the men were more interested in dancing with you pretty women than eating.”

Leah chuckled. “That’s a first.”

“You might be right about that.” Dan shoved his hands in his pockets. “So what do you need me to do?”

Shannon hurried over. “I’m here. I’ll start carrying the dirty dishes back to Polly’s.”

“I’ll go with you.” Leah glanced at Dan. “Just let me wipe down this table, and then you can return it to the back of the church.”

“And the smaller table belongs in front of the pulpit. Perhaps one of the Corbetts will help carry it.”

“No need. It’s just a little table, ma’am. I can manage it myself.”

Leah and Shannon exchanged a glance. Shannon collected the dirty pie and cookie plates, while Leah wiped off the table. Dan hoisted up the bigger of the two, and Leah hurried around him to open the church door. She followed him inside, but as the door closed, all went dark.

Dan banged into something. “Where’d you say to put the table?”

Leah struggled to see something in the blackness. “Against the back wall.”

“Uh…where is the back wall?”

Leah couldn’t help giggling. “I have no idea. Maybe I should get a lantern.”

The table scraped against the floor as Dan moved it. Leah heard it clunk against something—the wall, she hoped. Dan’s footsteps came in her direction, and he suddenly bumped her. Hard.

“Oompf.” She flailed her arms and whacked his as he grabbed hold of her upper arm.