Authors: Pamela Morsi
}"Thanks for the dance, Elm," she said politely to her partner. "And I appreciate all the information you've given me on dancing. Perhaps I will write up something about it."
}The big man grinned broadly. "I'd be much obliged, miss."
}Tulsa May placed her hand in Luther's and smiled up at him. Luther had been jealous of Elm? It seemed a ludicrous idea. Quickly, Tulsa May assured herself that she had imagined the entire incident.
}The banjo player began raking his fingers rapidly back and forth across the strings in the frailing or clawhammer style. It was a loud, attention-getting maneuver, not something to be danced to, but rather a signal that the man with the black moustache would be calling another square.
}Luther and Tulsa May quickly joined another couple in a foursome and again Tulsa May tried to match the spoken words with the movements required. It wasn't easy. Directions such as "circle the wagons" and "pitch the hay" were not self-explanatory. In fact, Tulsa May thought the movements had to be seen to be believed. She did her best, never giving up. And when the dance was finished, she clapped as loudly as anyone. Mostly in gratitude that the dance was over.
}"You're not much for square dancing?" Luther asked, unable to hide his grin.
}Tulsa May shook her head. "When I said I wanted to go dancing, I think I was thinking of more spieling with you."
}Luther's vivid blue eyes became darker. It really wasn't quite proper to bring a woman like Tulsy to a roadhouse at all and certainly not to do any snuggle spieling. Somehow, Luther couldn't manage to summon up the propriety needed to refuse her. "All I want in the world is to give you your heart's desire," he said.
}The fiddler began playing a slow, sweet tune, undoubtedly meant for a sedate waltz. Luther grinned in mischief, clearly intending to take credit for the change in music. "You ask for a round-set, ma'am, and I see you get one."
}Tulsa May giggled.
}He led her out on the floor, but to her surprise, instead of taking a waltz position, he snuggled down into a spieling posture. His chin rested upon her shoulder and his body was pressed tightly against her own. She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks and feared that he could feel the erratic beating of her heart. Then she realized that she could feel the beating of
his
heart. It was a scary, wonderful, intimate feeling. She could feel every movement in the muscles of his arms and chest. With his knees bent to reach her height, a thick, masculine thigh occasionally pressed in unseemly familiarity against her own. Her breathing became rather more labored than the slow, sure waltzing movement merited. She felt those embarrassing nipples rising and hardening as her bosom was crushed against his chest. She sent up a little prayer of thanks that God had seen fit to create the brassiere, and that Maybelle had seen fit to sell her one.
}The flesh on her arms and neck seemed to flash hot and cold in response to the proximity of Luther's body. Surely, this was what her father was thinking of when he spoke of dancing as sinful. It was far too pleasurable not to be sin.
}With wary, hesitant glances, Tulsa May checked to see if the rest of the crowd was staring. No one seemed to notice anything unusual. She sighed with relief and was ready to throw caution to the wind and simply enjoy the warm, wonderful man who held her. Then she spotted a couple at the door.
}Guiltily she pulled back from Luther's embrace.
}"What is it?" he asked, clearly fearing he had somehow frightened her.
}"Look." She pointed toward the doorway. "It's Emma Dix. What a surprise to see someone that we know."
}
}When Emma Dix had ridden up on the back of Blue Turley's dusty bay saddle horse, she'd noticed the Runabout immediately. She was disgruntled and more than a little angry, certain that she was prepared for a confrontation. However, the sight of Luther and Tulsa May on the dimly lit dance floor, snuggled up closer than a mustard plaster on a cold chest caught her unawares. Tulsa May's welcoming smile nearly knocked the foundation out from under her completely.
}Tiny hairs bristled on her neck as she felt the warmth of Turley's breath against her ear. "Ain't that your fella out there, Sugartail? Seems he's squeezin' himself against the carrot-top again."
}"Shut up, Blue."
}"Yes, ma'am," he answered.
}Emma didn't have to look at him to know that he was smiling.
}"I don't have to say nothing," he continued in his sarcastic Western drawl. "Why, I'm sure you can see it all right before your eyes."
}The dance had hardly ended when Tulsa May hurried over to them. Luther followed behind her with visible reluctance.
}"Start a fight," Emma whispered.
}"What?" Blue looked at her in disbelief.
}"Start a fight with Luther. I want to see you beat him black and blue."
}Turley surveyed her curiously. She was cold, angry, and deadly serious.
}"Why would I want to do that, Sugartail?" he asked with a wheedling whine. "Even Briggs is likely to get in a couple of damn good blows."
}Emma swallowed hard and then looked at him. Her words were quiet. "I know what you've been hanging around me for, Turley," she said. "You beat up Luther Briggs, really beat him up, and you'll get it."
}Turley's eyes gleamed. "Well, damn me for a sorry cowboy, Sugartail. I'd beat up the devil himself if it meant rollin' on the bedsheets with you."
}"Beat him up, Turley," Emma said quietly as the other young couple hurried toward her. "Just beat him up. I wish I could do it myself."
}"Emma, don't you look charming!" As always, Tulsa May's sincerity was too transparent to be questioned. "I love that new hairstyle; curly-bob bangs are so modern."
}Emma's lack of answering warmth went unnoticed as Tulsa May rambled on in a rush of excitement. "Isn't this just the most fascinating place you've ever seen? I'm having a wonderful time and it's so good to have friends turn up to share the fun."
}As there was no immediate answer, Tulsa May turned to the gentleman at Emma's side. "I know I've seen you around town," she said. "But I don't think we've been properly introduced."
}"No, ma'am," Turley replied with only the barest tip of his cowboy hat. "Don't believe we've been introduced at all, proper or otherwise."
}Tulsa May waited for Emma, or at least Luther, to make the introductions. When after a very long moment of embarrassment neither spoke up, Tulsa May just handled it herself.
}"I'm Tulsa May Bruder," she said, extending her palm like a man for a handshake.
}Turley grasped her fingers and squeezed them rather intimately and then, to top off this rather unusual reception, he gave her a wicked wink.
}Slightly shocked, Tulsa May quickly covered her surprise by laughing. "I've heard you cowboys are Romeos. But you might as well save your flirting for Emma. I'm much too easily impressed to be any challenge at all."
}Turley's grin held more than a little bit of spite. "Yep, I've heard Luther boy here ain't much up to challenges."
}Her eyes widening in surprise, Tulsa May stared at Turley, puzzled. The strangeness of his comment and the abrasive underlying tone caught her unawares. She turned to Emma.
}Miss Dix offered no explanation for her escort's rudeness. Without a word to Tulsa May she turned to Luther.
}"Dance with me." It was more an order than a request.
}After an uncomfortable glance at Tulsa May, Luther led Emma out onto the floor.
}Watching them walk away, Tulsa May had a strange feeling that something bad was about to happen. She hardly had time to examine the thought before the cowboy grabbed her hand.
}"Guess that leaves you with me," Turley said beside her. "Come on, Carrot, let's take a turn across the floor."
}Tulsa May hadn't a chance to agree before Blue Turley pulled her out onto the sawdust and into his arms. The piano was jangling a perfect spieling tune, and to Tulsa May's horror, Emma's cowboy snuggled down and grasped her so close she could barely breathe.
}"Sir, I must object—" she began in a gentle undertone. Turley, however, began his wild pumping one-step and turn with such enthusiasm, Tulsa May found herself in the unenviable position of "hold on or fall down."
}The room spun around them at least half a dozen times before she was able to get her bearings. He smelled somewhat sour and the stench of tobacco clung to his vest. Unlike the pleasant feel of dancing with Luther, Tulsa May felt trapped and sticky and slightly sick.
}Turley had allowed the hand at her back to dip indecently low.
}Tulsa May gave a startled little protest that Turley disregarded completely. Not about to be ignored, she removed her hand from his shoulder and straggled to push his unwelcome paw back up to the neutral territory of her waist.
}"Relax, Carrot," the cowboy told her with a chuckle. "I ain't a-trying to steal your bustle."
}"I would appreciate it greatly, sir, if you would not hold me in this manner. It is inappropriate and demeaning."
}Turley raised an eyebrow at her words and then shrugged. "Figure I got a right, Carrot," he said. "Your Luther-boy been holdin' Emma pretty close."
}Surprised, Tulsa May glanced around the room until she saw the other couple. Emma was obviously very angry and was talking a mile a minute. Luther's eyes, however, were not upon his dancing partner but on Tulsa May and he didn't look the least bit happy.
}"Luther's not holding her close," Tulsa May protested. "Why, he's barely touching her at all."
}"Barely touching her
now,"
Turley countered. "He's touched her plenty, and
close,
in the past." He leaned nearer, speaking the next words against her ear. "They been real, real close. She's been his gal, if you know what I mean."
}Tulsa May struggled in his arms. "No, I don't know what you mean. Luther never called on Emma; I would have heard if he was courting her."
}The cowboy snorted. "He weren't courtin' her, Carrot. He was ... well... I suspect an innocent young thing like you wouldn't know nothing about that, would ya?"
}With a jerk worthy of a traveling wrestler, Tulsa May pulled away from him. "I do not care for what you are implying, sir."
}Tulsa May turned her back to walk away, only to feel his hand grab her arm.
}"Don't walk away from me, Carrot. When I'm with a woman I'm the one to say when she goes and when she stays. A gal don't dare go walking away from me. I don't like for women to do that one damn bit."
}Genuinely angry, Tulsa May turned on him. "I don't care what you like, sir. It's bad enough that you manhandled me, but I will not allow you to slander two fine, good people that I consider my friends."
}"Friends." Turley's chuckle was mean.
}Tulsa May meant to ask what he meant when she felt the touch of a hand on her arm. She turned to find Luther beside her, his mouth set angrily as he stared at Turley. With a little flourish, he took her into his arms and danced her out of the vicinity. Pressed close against him, she could feel the suppressed anger and the power of his control over it.
}"Was he insulting you?" Luther asked quietly.
}"Oh, no, not me," Tulsa May answered, not wanting to rile Luther further. "He was making some suggestive statements about you and Emma."
}Luther blanched slightly. "I think that we should go," he said.
}Tulsa May nodded. Glancing around, she saw Emma and Turley with their heads together, and became genuinely worried. "All right," she answered. "I think I've had enough of dancing for one night."
}With his arm wrapped loosely around her waist, they made their way to the door. Elm waylaid them. "You young folks leaving already?"