Carol Ritten Smith Page 16

  “I see,” Beth said smiling. It didn’t take a teacher’s certificate to know the girls had named one seed Tom and they were taking turns being the other seed. Ever since the storm, all the girls were hopelessly enamored with him and his charming ways.

  She stared at the two seeds on the hot stovetop, and for a lark imagined she was the second seed. The seeds jumped about, popped toward each other, collided and then bounced quickly apart again. The girls giggled uncontrollably while Beth blushed candy-apple red.

  “Such nonsense,” she managed, though barely able to conceal her smile as she returned to her desk. Not that she would ever marry Tom. Heavens no! She couldn’t risk it. And children? She had Bill and Davy to take care of. They were plenty.

  • • •

  That afternoon, Tom shut the shop down early so he could see if Beth needed help decorating for this evening’s Valentine’s dance.

  All in all, he thought things were progressing well between them. Tonight he hoped to advance their relationship. He had it all worked out. After the dance, he’d walk her home and this time when he kissed her goodnight, he would show her there was more to kissing than pressing two sets of lips together and some labored breathing. He intended to use his tongue, just a gentle probe until she got the feel for it, and then, if she seemed receptive and venturesome, he’d tease her tongue until she invaded his mouth with hers. The mere thought of it aroused him.

  That arousal was quickly squelched when he stepped off the boardwalk at North’s bank and saw Lewie Hanks leave the schoolyard. Tom bristled. What the hell was Hanks doing at the school? Something in his gut told him it couldn’t be good. Worried that the reprobate may have harmed Beth, Tom ran to the school and took the three steps going into the schoolhouse in one leap.

  • • •

  Beth hummed as she cleaned the day’s lessons off the board. She turned and smiled warmly when Tom burst through the door.

  “Oh, hello. I didn’t expect you so early. What a fun day! The children spent all afternoon cutting hearts out of crepe paper.” She pointed around the room at all the decorations. “Doesn’t it look pretty?”

  “I just saw Hanks leave. What did he want?”

  Beth set the brush on the ledge and dusted off her hands. “He was returning a book.”

  “A book? What kind of book? I didn’t even know he could read.”

  “Yes, I have to admit I was taken aback, too. He borrowed a book of sonnets. Imagine that, would you!”

  Tom snorted.

  “Oh, Tom, you should have seen how embarrassed he was when I asked him if he enjoyed poetry.”

  “That guy is crazy. I don’t want him around you.”

  In such a happy mood, Beth paid little heed to Tom’s warning. “Well, as I said, he was just returning a book.”

  “What makes him think he can borrow books from the school?”

  “Tom, you know people ask to borrow books from the school all the time.”

  “Not people like Hanks. He’s sick in the head. He’s dangerous,” Tom growled.

  “Well, I never felt threatened. Besides he was here for less than a minute. What could possibly happen in that short of time?”

  “Beth, you’re so damn naïve!” he scoffed.

  Beth felt her temper flare. “I am not naïve!”

  “A man like Hanks? You here all alone? There’s no telling what he might have done.”

  “But he didn’t and I really can’t — ”

  “If he ever comes around here again, I want you to leave immediately. You hear me?”

  Beth was furious. How dare he order me about as if I were his property. He has no right telling me what to do! She walked right up to him and said, “Now, you listen to me, Tom Carver.” She poked his chest with her finger. “I’m a grown woman and I make my own decisions about who I do or do not see.” Another poke. “And what Mr. Hanks chooses to do has nothing to do with me.” Poke. “If it bothers you that he comes over here, then tell him!” Poke. “Not me!” Poke.

  “Don’t worry, I will!” he growled.

  “Fine!”

  “Fine!”

  Tom slammed the door behind him with such finality Beth thought her heart might stop.

  She held her breath. Surely Tom would come back through the door with a big grin on his face saying it was all an elaborate joke. But he didn’t and now her lovely afternoon of making hearts and dreaming romantic thoughts was ruined … and it was all Tom’s fault.

  Tears threatened and she blinked them back. She pulled open her desk drawer and picked up a lacy, red paper heart. “Do you want to know what else we did today, Tom Carver?” she said with no one but the four walls to listen. “We made Valentines. This is the one I made for you.” She held up the dainty heart in both hands and carefully tore it in two. Then she burst into tears, for it felt as if Tom had done the very same to her own heart.

  • • •

  Tom started in on himself before he’d made it to the bottom step. You jackass! What’s the matter with you, talking to her like that? She did nothing wrong and you lit into her as if it was her fault that Hanks was at the school. She was happy before you arrived and now she’s mad as a hornet. You need to apologize. You need to turn around, march up those steps and beg for her forgiveness.

  His foot was on the first step when he heard someone call his name. He spotted Davy running across the school toward him. Oh, hell, not Davy. Not now. Tom blew out his frustration in a resigned sigh. Well, maybe with any luck, this won’t take long. Tom stepped down and waited.

  Davy was winded when he arrived and it took a moment for him to catch his breath. “Tom, I gotta ask you a question.”

  “Okay, shoot.”

  “Do people kiss at a Valentine’s Dance?” The boy had a worried, almost distasteful look on his face.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Penelope has been following me around all day and if I go to the dance, she’s gonna want to kiss me, sure as shootin’.”

  Tom smiled ruefully. “Well, Bud, sorry to tell you, but some people do kiss at the Valentine’s dance.” Though he knew it wouldn’t be him and Beth.

  “Then that’s it! I’m gonna ask Beth right now if I can go to Gordie’s house for the night.”

  Before Tom could convince Davy to hold off for a moment, the boy was inside the schoolhouse and Tom’s opportunity to apologize was gone. So much for luck.

  Scowling, he returned to the smithy, telling himself he’d come back in a half hour to apologize. But when he unlocked the wide doors of the shop, there was a farmer waiting to have his horses’ hooves tended to. By the time Tom finished, it was too late. He’d have to apologize at the dance.

  • • •

  The fiddler at the front of the classroom was sawing out a lively polka and the dance was in full swing when Tom arrived. He sidled along the back wall, greeting folks as he went, but more intent on scanning the room for Beth. He felt hollow in the pit of his stomach knowing it would be his fault if she decided not to come.

  His spirits lifted when he spotted her sitting on the far side, sandwiched between two women, both of whom were talking nonstop around her. Maybe you could get back in her good graces if you just sauntered over there and rescued her.

  Her eyes darkened when he headed in her direction. Then again, maybe not. He could practically see steam rising about her. Damn! She was still seething from the afternoon’s spat. He watched as she quickly extricated herself from the two women and made a hasty retreat, skirting around to the other side of the room.

  He tried a different approach, and she moved again. Each time he attempted to come close to her, she eluded him like quicksilver until he eventually gave up his pursuit. No point in appearing desperate. He poured a cup of coffee and sat beside the coffeepot. He faced the agonizing fact he might have lost Beth for good and that thought seared his gut worse than the strong brew.

  Mr. Pickard asked Beth to dance, and while they twirled around the room, Tom watched in gri
m silence. In fact, he spent the better part of the evening guzzling coffee, watching Beth in the arms of other men, and wishing he’d kept his big mouth shut this afternoon.

  It seemed to Tom that the one making the most progress on the dance floor was Beth’s brother, Bill. Annaleese Hewn was obviously head over heels in love with the chump. The sight of them enjoying the evening stuck in Tom’s gizzard, making him feel even worse.

  “You’re not dancing tonight?” Mary asked.

  He glanced sideways, noticing for the first time his aunt had sat down beside him.

  “I would,” he said, “but the one I want to dance with seems to have an aversion to me.”

  Mary didn’t need to ask to whom he was referring. “I thought things were coming along fine between you and Beth. What happened?”

  Tom ran his forefinger around the rim of his cup. “I did something I shouldn’t have.”

  Mary frowned. “Tom Carver,” she scolded, her voice low, but stern, “that girl is young. Don’t you be taking liberties with her.”

  “Calm down, Mary, it’s not what you think.”

  “Then you better explain just what I should be thinking.”

  He was almost embarrassed to tell her. “This afternoon I saw Lewie Hanks leaving the school and I kinda got testy. Said a few things that maybe I shouldn’t have.”

  “To Lewie?”

  “No, Beth.” He raised his hand. “Please, don’t say it. I know it was stupid, but it just came out.”

  Mary quietly snorted with indignation. “Men! They’re all a bunch of fools. Poor Beth.”

  Now he felt even worse. He stared down at his freshly polished boots, thinking he wasn’t much better than the muck he had scraped off them earlier. “Yeah, well, now she won’t let me get within ten feet of her to apologize.”

  “So you’re going to sit all evening and mope. Land’s sakes, I’ve never known you to be a quitter.” Mary brushed down the folds in her skirt as if she were brushing crumbs off her lap. “Do you remember that horse you used to have when you were a kid? The one that was tricky to catch?”

  “Sally?”

  “Yes, Sally’s the one. Remember how you spent hours trying to catch her and when you finally gave up and went for another horse she’d come right up to you?”

  A sly grin slowly spread across Tom’s face. “Are you suggesting I try to make Beth envious?”

  “I am saying no such thing. But it’s obvious she likes to dance, and most of the men here can’t find a beat even if they were handed a stick and a drum. It’s a crying shame she’s out there getting her toes stomped on when she could be dancing with you.” Mary stared her nephew straight in the eye. “Of course with you sitting all night like you’re part of that chair, how would she know what she’s missing?”

  In all the years Tom could remember, Mary’s advice had never been wrong. Maybe he should dance. It was either that or go home, and since going home offered no hope of reconciliation, Tom asked Mary to dance.

  He liked dancing and he’d been told many times he danced well. If that was true, he had Mary to thank. When Mary’s boys and Tom were gangly teenagers, she insisted they learn to dance or at least to master the basic dance steps. So for three Saturdays in a row, the rug in the Betner parlor was rolled back and six clumsy boys paired up and stumbled through waltzes, polkas, and two steps. At the time, Tom thought it was a big waste of time. He was thankful now that Mary had been persistent.

  He danced several sets, but Beth paid him no heed. So much for ignoring her and hoping she’d approach him. He decided on another tactic. When he was dancing with Mrs. Brown, Tom maneuvered his unsuspecting partner around the floor until they were adjacent to Beth and her partner. Then he stepped sideways. “Oops, sorry,” he said when he bumped Beth’s shoulder, “an accident.” He grinned and shrugged apologetically.

  Beth gave him a glare, cold enough to have frostbitten him, but Tom merely smiled and danced away, feeling rather pleased. At least now he had her attention.

  Whenever Beth danced with a new partner, Tom deliberately bumped into them, each time saying the same thing, “Oops, sorry. Accident.”

  • • •

  Accident? My left foot. Beth knew exactly what Tom was doing. There was no way on God’s green earth she would dance with him, though she found dancing with Lars Anderstom an ordeal.

  “Ew are rather tense, I tink,” said Lars. “Are ew not happy vith my dancing, Miss Patterson?”

  Beth blushed. “Oh … no … you dance fine … really. It’s not that. It’s my shoes,” she lied, “I’m afraid they’re too small.” More likely your feet are too swollen from him stepping on them.

  “Den perhaps ew vish to sit for a vile?”

  And have Tom descend upon me like a fly on raw meat? “No, I would rather keep dancing. It’s been so long since I’ve been to a dance, and we’re doing so well together.”

  Lars beamed at Beth. “Yah, I tink so, too.”

  • • •

  Tom stole a glance at the banjo clock at the front of the classroom. It was nearing midnight, and soon the women would be bringing out the lunch and the dance would be over. The only one he had yet to dance with was Beth. He decided Mary’s plan had failed. Beth was no more receptive to the idea now than she had been earlier. Frustrated, he headed for the cloakroom to get his coat. The fiddler announced it was time for the Sunset Reel, and everyone clapped. Tom paused, debating if he should give Beth one more try. It was a long shot, but what had he to lose? With long determined strides, he approached her.

  • • •

  Beth saw Tom closing in from one direction, Lars from another. Deciding her feet had taken enough abuse for one night, and she’d rather dance with a rattlesnake than with Tom, she turned to Earl standing nearby and announced, “I’ve been looking forward to a dance with you all evening, Earl.” She dragged him by the arm onto the dance floor.

  “Well, if that don’t beat all!” Mary said when Tom joined her. “Beth got Earl up to dance, something I haven’t been able to do in years.”

  “Given the right incentive, she can be very persuasive.” Tom held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  She smiled. “Let’s.”

  For the Sunset Reel, the men stood in one line with their lady partners opposite them in a second line. Tom and Mary took their respective places just as Bert Parker began to call to the music, “Lead couple bow and do-see-do, down the line and away you go.”

  The end couple nearest Bert was the lead couple and they followed the caller’s instructions. With a series of turn-throughs with those in the line, alternating with partner-swings in the middle, they worked their way down to the column’s other end.

  “Make an arch, make a steeple, couples turn to thread the needle.”

  The lead couple joined hands to form an arch while the couple at the opposite end folded to skip between the two rows. They in turn were followed by the next couple and so on until all had ducked under the arch and circled around the outside to form a new column.

  “Clap your hands, clap your knees, give your partner a great big squeeze.”

  That completed a series of moves ending with a new lead couple. Soon it was Mary and Tom’s turn to lead the reel, and they worked their way between the two lines. When Tom turned with Beth, he executed a quick trade, leaving Mary in Beth’s place and taking Beth with him down the line.

  • • •

  It all happened so fast, Beth was momentarily confused. By the time she realized what had transpired, it was too late. Like it or not, she was Tom’s partner. And she did not like it at all! When they held hands to form the arch, she glared at him.

  Tom returned a smug smile.

  Ooh, he thinks he’s so clever.

  The dance continued, and when it was time to give their partners a great big squeeze, Tom hugged Beth tightly and whispered, “We need to talk,” before releasing her.

  Beth had no time to reply for immediately another lead couple was dancing between them, but s
he had a caustic rebuttal prepared for the next time they sashayed down the column and under the arch. Only Tom beat her to it by whispering, “I’m sorry, Beth. Forgive me.” And then they were separated again.

  Beth found it infuriating to be subjected to this one-sided, disjointed conversation. On their last time through the column, Tom grasped firmly onto her hand and led her directly out to the cloakroom. He shooed a couple of boys back into the classroom, and closed the door.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded when they were alone. “We can’t just walk out in the middle of a dance.”

  Tom shrugged. “They won’t miss us. Besides, if you weren’t so stubborn, I wouldn’t have to be so devious.” He grinned, displaying no remorse.

  “This is ludicrous. What will people think, you dragging me out here like this?”

  “They’ll probably think I couldn’t wait to give you your Valentine’s kiss.”

  Beth’s heart lurched at the thought of Tom kissing her again, which made her just as vexed with herself as with him. “Not on your — ” she began, but Tom raised his finger to his lips.

  “Shhh. Careful. If they hear you, they’ll think we’re having a lover’s quarrel.”

  Lovers! Never! She grabbed her coat from the heap on the table, shoved past him, and bolted outside.

  It was snowing, big flakes falling like bits of torn paper. Tom followed her. She heard his muffled shout of surprise as he slipped on the steps and went down. She ignored him, yanking on her coat as she stormed across the schoolyard.

  “Beth, wait!” Tom ran after her.

  She glanced over her shoulder and yelled, “Leave me alone.” She quickened her pace, holding her coat shut against the cold and the snow, hurrying to outdistance him.

  “Slow down, or you’ll hurt your ankle again.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do, Tom Carver!”

  She got to her house and slammed the door, only to hear Tom throw his shoulder against it. Beth, no match for his strength, jumped back and the door crashed open. Tom burst through, then kicked the door shut behind him.