Oklahoma kiss (32 page)

      
She gazed up at him intently. "Are you referring to us or to Coy?"

      
"Both. Although, I’m perfectly willing to settle this between us —today if you want." There was a gentle softness to his voice, "I haven't changed my mind. I'll still make an honest woman out of you." He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her sweetly.

      
It took every ounce of willpower for Blair to pull away, shake her head and say, "No, Adam, as much as last night —this night, whatever —has meant to me. I think we need more time. Marriage is such a serious step, and it is . . . one I intend to take only once."

      
The lines of concentration deepened along his brows and under his eyes. A muscle tensed in his jaw. "All right, but the offer stands."

      
Wanting to change the subject, she reminded him. "Now don't you dare forget about the dance tonight. Since it is so far out to the ranch, I'll ride in with Warren." She jabbed a finger at his chest.

      
"But don't you dare eat before you come, because I expect you to buy my box supper. It should have a yellow ribbon tied around it ... if Warren remembered to buy it. If not, I’ll make sure you know which one is mine."

      
"Box supper? This is the first I've heard about that."

      
"It is for a good cause. The money raised always goes to a church or to the school to help purchase supplies."

      
"I wasn't complaining."

      
"I know."

      
"It's just after all of those flapjacks," he rubbed his stomach pitifully, "I doubt if I will be able to think about food for over a week."

      
"Oh, I'm sure your appetite will have returned by tonight." She placed one hand akimbo. "I'm warning you now though, you had better not be ravenous!"

      
His mouth curved into an unconscious smile, but his tone of voice was serious, "Sweetheart, I doubt if there is a woman alive who could compare to you." As though suddenly resigned, he shrugged. "I guess I had better take care of the horses and get them saddled while you are tidying up the cabin." Re turned and started for the door.

      
"Adam, wait. Did you ..."

      
"Yes?" he asked expectedly.

      
A wave of apprehension swept though her. She was so tempted to bluntly ask if he loved her, but she could not quite bring herself to do it. Although she felt justified in using any means to make him fall in love with her, she still did not want to hold him with nothing but passion. "In case Warren or someone else rides up before we leave, I-I just wanted to say ... I will see you

      
tonight."

      
Touching his hat . with his fingertip, Adam winked at her and smiled. "Until tonight."

      
Chapter 19

      
The annual spring dance was the most popular social event of the year. It was always held at Proctor's stockade, the grounds located by the schoolhouse, and as in most farming and ranching communities, it was a special place set especially aside for local functions.

      
Once, it had been a densely wooded oak grove, but years earlier the men who had first come to Oklahoma had taken their saws and axes and cleared a huge space in the center of the grove. The remaining trees resembled the earlier army stockades — only still having tree tops —which provided substantial protection against the marauding Comanches, Kiowas, and Apaches. Over the years, the trees continued to grow until the outside perimeter became almost as dense as a solid wall. Finally, peace was made with western tribes, and the stockade was given to the town of Doughtery.

      
Though strange in appearance, the trees not only rendered shade against the scorching heat of the summer, but served as a giant umbrella unless there came a torrential rain. The stockade provided a wind break in the spring and fall as well. It was an excellent place to have picnics, dances, and town meetings. During the course of many years, the ground became so firmly packed, wooden planks were not even needed when they had dances.

      
If on a rare occasion a town meeting or a social was held in the winter and it became too cold, or if it rained too heavily in the summer, the people merely packed up and moved the festivities into the school located beside the woods. It was much more crowded inside, but it took a tremendous amount of discomfort to dampen their spirits. After a long, lonely Oklahoma winter, everybody wanted to dance, visit, and to get caught up on all the local news.

      
Lanterns covered with gaily colored paper were painstakingly strung from the lower branches of the trees and on wires strung from side to side. A small platform for musicians had been erected to the rear, and directly in front of it, single tables had been butted together and arranged in a long line. As more people arrived, the tables they brought were added to the side which eventually formed half a square. They were - covered with brightly colored tablecloths and even though only half of the people who usually attended these gatherings had arrived, the tables were already heavily ladened with food.

      
All of the married women provided the covered dish suppers; the unmarried young women brought brightly decorated box lunches that would be auctioned later in the evening.

      
People also brought their own chairs, but no
      
one expected to use them much because the music would be toe-tapping and loud. After the dance started, two fiddles, a guitar, a banjo, a harmonica, and an accordion would play one lively tune after another. Everybody knew that the musicians' repertoire was as limited as their skill but they would make up for both with their lively playing and enthusiasm.

      
Blair and Warren arrived early in order to wander about the picnic grounds and visit before the dance started. Warren immediately sought out other ranchers to discuss the impending land opening—lately, the major topic of most conversations—the trouble with rustlers, the price of cattle, crossbreeding, corrals, and a few complaints about hired guns moving in as though they smelled an all-out range war.

      
Blair recognized several girls she had attended the local school with, visited with them for a while, learned who had gotten married and started their families, and in some instances who had moved away. But she soon began to feel very uncomfortable. While they were polite and courteous, it seemed as though they talked around her, answering questions when she asked them, but never quite including her in the conversation.

      
At first, Blair thought they were deliberately being rude, but after a few moments’ consideration, she decided that assumption was unfair. Even though she had been reasonably close to some of the girls, they were never "best of friends." When she left, their lives had continued without drastic change, and perhaps they were uncomfortable, too. Perhaps they felt they no longer shared anything in common. If so, Blair knew only time would remedy that.

      
Not wanting to intrude any further, she wandered over to the tables and began helping the older women; but they had everything well under control and she soon felt as though she was doing nothing but getting in their way.

      
"Blair, you doing all right?" Warren wanted to know as he came up behind her. "I saw you from over there and your face looked about foot-long. Did somebody say something out of the way to you?"

      
"Oh, no, everybody has been very polite," she quickly assured him. "To be truthful though, I suppose I am feeling a little lost. There is no one here yet that I knew real well, so I’ve just been wandering about listening to what they all have to say. Now go on back to your gossiping ..."

      
"Gossiping? Men don't gossip!"

      
Blair laughed at his righteous expression. "I suppose that notion depends on one's point of view. When women talk, they are gossiping. When men get together, they have discussions. I was raised in a family of men and I know all about your so-called friendly discussions. At any rate, Adam should be here before too long, so go on back to your old cronies. I am just fine and I am enjoying myself. Now, go on!" She gave him a gentle nudge.

      
Warren was so staunch and set in his ways, and had such a strong opinion of how women should stay in their proper place, she enjoyed goading him. He had not realized yet that the world was changing, and that women were strong individuals capable of having independent thoughts. He had always thought of women being gossips and never considered the fact that men did the very same thing. But the difference was: they were men, they could get by with it.

      
Strolling casually about, Blair kept overhearing the same conversations: trouble, rustlers, shootings, robberies. Why couldn’t they leave that at home? This was a social event, not some debating circle. The problems would still be there tomorrow, so why beat them into the ground tonight when everybody was supposed to be in a festive mood?

      
Suddenly, a man's voice boomed loudly, "Here comes Tom Bastrop! I’ll bet he will know what to do about all of this rustling that's been going on."

      
A small stirring seemed to indicate that this opinion was not shared by all of the men present.

      
Tom Bastrop arrived in a new surrey, polished and elegant, surrounded by eight, well-outfitted riders, all carrying rifles.

      
"Yeah," someone muttered, "I see what he plans to do, but the small ranchers don't have the money to buy hired guns like he does. Those men have been throwing their weight around, too."

      
Tom stepped down and helped an elderly woman to the ground, a woman Blair recognized to be his aunt, although she did not personally know her.

      
Blair watched as the eight men dismounted and tied their horses. Suddenly, sheer black fright swept through her. The idea of Adam being a deputy marshal had been extremely romantic, but after seeing such dangerous-looking, well-armed men —even though they posed no threat to him— his profession no longer seemed so glamorous or exciting. For the first time she actually realized every morning when he pinned on his badge or strapped on his guns, there was a possibility he faced death. She began to shake as fearful images built in her mind. If he did fall in love with her and they married, how could she live with the daily knowledge that each time he went to work, he might never return? Could she live with that sort of terror?

      
"I wish I were the man you were thinking about," Tom Bastrop said, rocking back on his heels and smiling at her.

      
Flustered, Blair timidly returned his smile, and stammered, "I-I'm Sorry. My mind was miles and miles away. D-did you say something?"

      
He threw back his head and laughed. "Now, Blair, that's an ingenious way of making me repeat my compliment. I said, you look very lovely tonight. I doubt if I have ever seen a woman's eyes sparkle so brightly."

      
Blushing, she lowered her lashes and graciously thanked him.

      
Tom glanced about. "Where is the deputy? I thought he was supposed to bring you to this shindig tonight?"

      
"He was —is," she quickly corrected herself, "but he has been detained. I expect him momentarily, though." The smoothness of her answer belied the tension she felt returning, but it was there, traveling along her nerves.

      
"You mean he didn't personally escort you into town?"

      
"No, he did not." Blair heard the defensive note in her voice and resented it. But she did not like his line of questions. It was as though he was attempting to make sly insinuations without actually appearing to sound rude or inquisitive. "It was by my request, though. He had important business to attend to, and since Warren was coming anyway, I told Adam I would just ride with my brother and save him the long trip out to the ranch. I'm sure you are aware that this town keeps one lawman extremely busy. Although, I am certain it will be much better once the deputies arrive."

      
"Oh? Has he sent for reinforcements?"

      
"Yes, but he did not quite phrase it that way." She wished desperately for someone to rescue her. It wasn't that she disliked Tom —in fact, he seemed to be a very nice man, even if he did act a little too forward, a little too presumptuous at times. However, she recognized the reality that her opinions were probably biased; she was so in love with Adam, all other men paled in comparison.

      
Suddenly uncomfortable in his presence, Blair searched for an excuse to slip away. Thinking quickly, she allowed a polite smile to tug at her lips. "If you will please excuse me, I believe I see Sally Majors standing over there. She is an old friend whom I haven't seen in four years."

      
"Wait, Blair, before you leave . . ." He glanced toward the tables. "I have already counted twelve box suppers up there. I don't suppose I could talk you into giving me a clue as to which one is yours?"

      
"Now, Tom," she scolded teasingly, "you know that would be cheating. Keeping the woman's identity a secret is the reason why only married men are allowed to carry the boxes to the tables. Now, if you will excuse me . . ."

      
"Do you remember your promise to save a dance for me?" he called after her.

      
She glanced back over her shoulder. "Of course I remember. I shall see you later."