The Preacher's Daughter (12 page)

“C
an I ride with you and Lorabeth?” Flynn asked. He had his fiddle case tucked under his arm.

Benjamin stood in the foyer in his best black trousers, white shirt and tie, waiting for Lorabeth.

“Of course you can,” she said from the top of the stairs.

She gathered the hem of her dress and descended as gracefully as anything Ben had ever seen. The dress was the color of a fresh summer peach, with lacy stuff at her neck and on the cuffs. The closer she got, the more clearly he noticed how the shade complemented her skin and made her eyes look dark and luminous.

“Holy cow, Miss Lorrie!” Flynn exclaimed. “You look beautiful!”

“Thank you, Flynn.”

Ben nodded his agreement.

Caleb ushered Nate and David down the stairs. “Papa’s ready to take on you two boys in a checker championship.”

Ben had seen Matthew and Laura’s buggy out front, the horse still harnessed. “I brought my rig,” he said.

“We’re taking my folks’,” Caleb replied.

Ellie came from the hall that led to the kitchen, carrying Madeline wrapped in a light blanket. “Your mother’s baking cookies with the girls,” she said to Caleb. “I need to grab a shawl.”

Madeline was still too small to leave behind for that many hours, and she slept most of the time, anyway, so she was coming along.

Lorabeth took her shawl from over her arm and draped it around her shoulders. “I made pies,” she told Ben.

Flynn picked up the crate that must hold her covered desserts, handed it to Ben, and they made their way to Ben’s buggy. While Ben stowed the pies, Flynn helped her up to the seat.

“What kind are they?” Ben asked, taking up the reins. “The pies.”

“Pumpkin. Do you like pumpkin?”

“One of my favorites.”

Lorabeth had to sit close in order for Flynn to fit on her other side, and the cramped space was no hardship. He enjoyed her presence beside him, her sweet fragrance reaching his senses immediately.

“Where do the animals go when people are dancing in their barn?” Lorabeth asked.

Ben exchanged a look with Flynn, and his brother looked away as though the countryside suddenly held particular fascination.

“The farmer herds them all into pens and corrals and pastures while he cleans out the barn during the day. He leaves them there for the evening.”

“And they don’t mind?” she asked.

Flynn wouldn’t look at him.

“The cows and horses? No, I don’t think they mind.”

“Do the Iversons have a Victrola?” she asked.

Ben wondered what difference that made, then figured it out. “There are musicians,” he told her. “Plenty of local talent in these parts.”

Lorabeth looked to Flynn. “That’s why you’ve brought your violin? To play with the musicians?”

Flynn nodded with a grin. “Yes’m.”

“Well, this will be more of a treat than I’d even imagined.”

“Wait till you see. All the schoolgirls line up near the front to watch ’im,” Ben teased.

“Nah, they don’t,” Flynn replied, and a smudge of ruddy color tinged his lean cheek.

“Wait and see,” Ben told Lorabeth.

She laughed at their good-natured joking.

Lorabeth asked questions about the farms and fields they passed. The purple and red streaks across the skies disappeared into inky darkness as night descended. The lights from the Iverson barn were visible as they approached from the road.

“This makes me think of Simon,” Lorabeth said softly. “I do wish he could share in things like this.” She reached over and grabbed Flynn’s hand, and Ben turned to observe her expression of excitement and apprehension. He glanced at her hand clenching his brother’s and felt a stab of possessiveness.

Even though he was a young man, Flynn was one of her charges, he chided himself. And surely Flynn reminded her sharply of her younger brother. His own hands had been occupied with the reins. He pulled the horses to a stop and looped the reins around the brake handle.

Flynn had stepped away from the buggy so that when Ben got around to the other side, Lorabeth was waiting for him. Ben bracketed her waist with both hands, and she stepped off the stair. He lowered her to the ground and immediately took her icy hand.

“Are you scared?” he asked, rubbing it.

“Only a little.”

“Nothing to fear,” he assured her. “You’ll be the prettiest girl there.”

Her gaze shot to his in surprise.

He smiled and went to get her desserts. They followed Flynn toward the barn.

Two woodstoves warmed the interior, which still held the smells of hay and livestock. Makeshift tables had been constructed along the west side in front of empty stalls, and already their surfaces were covered with trays and bowls of food. Ben held the wooden box out to Lorabeth, and she lifted out her pies and placed them on a table with a dozen delicious-looking varieties. Ben stored the container.

A keg sat on a workbench in the rear by the other set of doors which were closed in deference to the cool night. A crate of clean, empty jars stood on the floor beside it.

The platform that the townspeople took turns storing between dances had been constructed on the right, and J.J. Jenkins had brought the piano he had painted red a few years back.

A hum of conversation filled the building, which probably held forty people already. Flynn headed straight for the platform and the other musicians who were tuning up in a splendid clash of notes.

“Lorabeth! What a gorgeous dress!” Carrie Bennett came up beside them and ran an appreciative gaze over Lorabeth’s costume. “Did Miss Kirkpatrick make that for you?”

“She did,” Lorabeth answered.

“Lorabeth splurged this week.” Ellie joined them, Madeline swaddled in her arms. “Isn’t she a vision in that color?”

Carrie nodded.

“I’d better go make sure Caleb knows what to do with the sandwiches I brought.” Ellie hurried away.

“A few of the others are already here,” Carrie said. “You two must come sit with us.” She motioned for them to follow and led the way to the open area beside the platform where several chairs were gathered. Hobie and Carter stood to greet Lorabeth and Ben.

Ben didn’t like the way Carter looked at Lorabeth.

“These dances are so passé,” Zeta said, joining them, and pulled a long face. “But it’s a tradition and all, so I come with my parents.”

“I
like
the dances,” Carter said.

“Well, we can still have entertainment of our own fashion.” Carrie leaned forward. “I have an idea.”

“What is it?” Zeta asked.

“Why don’t we put all of our names in a hat and draw for dance partners throughout the night?”

“Will you keep the boys and girls separate or might a person draw their own gender as a partner?” Carter asked with a frown.

“You could draw a person of your own gender,” she replied with a twinkle in her eye. “And if you don’t dance with the person you drew, you have to pay a forfeit.”

Murmurs rippled.

Ben didn’t like the idea and he didn’t mind saying so. “I brought Lorabeth tonight, and I intend to dance with her. If she wants to accept invitations, that will be her choice, but count me out of the mix.”

“I’d rather not play this evening, either,” Lorabeth said, and her agreement pleased him.

He stole a glance at her, and she offered him a smile and took his hand.

“Have fun,” Ben said to the others who quickly formed a circle to plan their evening’s entertainment.

Half a dozen musicians had gathered. The man holding the guitar tapped out a rhythm and they jumped into a song.

“Are you hungry?” Ben asked. “I didn’t have supper, so the food tables look pretty good to me.”

“I’ll eat with you.”

He grabbed two tin plates from a stack, and they selected their fare. He led her to several long tables made out of planks and sawhorses, where they seated themselves so they could observe the goings-on. Ben ate one of Ellie’s sandwiches and a chicken leg while Lorabeth picked at a little sandwich she’d made of cheese and ham.

Deputy Sanders and his wife, Amanda, were the first on the dance floor, joined soon after by several other couples. Lorabeth watched with interest. “Do you know them?”

“Yep. That’s Owen Sanders, one of Marshal Connor’s deputies. His wife used to be a Harvey Girl. She and Sophie and Ellie are all friends.”

“Do they have children?”

“Don’t reckon I’ve heard. You might ask Ellie. Not hungry?”

She glanced over. “Not so much.”

He could see she was itchin’ to get out on that dance floor. He could really go for a cup of coffee and a piece of cake, but first things first. He wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Want to dance?”

Lorabeth turned to him. “Oh, yes!”

He took her by the hand and led her into the throng of couples moving to the lively strains of a song she’d never heard. She glanced at the others beside them, then tried to move the same way they were.

“Don’t think about your feet so much,” Benjamin told her, holding his elbows out and his back straight. “We’ll just do an easy count. Think about moving toward the side and then back this way. One two three four, one two three four.”

It only took a few minutes for her to fall into the pattern and feel comfortable dancing. Benjamin’s patience and gentle guidance touched her. One by one he was giving her experiences that had been out of her reach. Lorabeth felt part of this community for the first time. No longer was she the preacher’s invisible daughter. She wished Simon could be here.

By the next song, she laughed and spared glances at the other dancers and the musicians. Fiddle under his chin, Flynn grinned at her as his fingers flew, and he wielded the bow with expertise she hadn’t imagined he possessed.

“How did your brother learn to play like that?”

“Caleb’s dad first taught him to pick, and then Ellie got lessons for him. He’s quite the fiddle player, isn’t he? Look there.” He nodded in the direction he wanted her to turn.

A row of schoolgirls with ribbons tied at the end of their braids stood beside the platform, some talking behind their hands, others swaying to the music. When Flynn played a particularly difficult sequence of notes, they clapped and cheered.

Lorabeth met Benjamin’s amused gaze with a laugh.

“It’s just as you said!”

His expression was warm as he studied his brother.

“He’s gonna be a fine man. Caleb and Matthew have been good influences.”

“What about you?” she asked. “You’re closer to him than anyone, aren’t you?”

His bright blue eyes seemed to darken somewhat at her comment. “He’ll grow up better’n me.”

“I don’t know that there are any men finer than you, Benjamin.”

His gaze locked on hers. “I’ve never enjoyed myself at one of these the way I am tonight,” he told her.

The music slowed, and a few of the dancers left the floor, but Benjamin placed his arm behind her back and gave her a reassuring smile. She could smell the starch in his shirt, feel the controlled strength of his arms, and her heart beat as fast as it had when he’d kissed her. She could remain like this forever and never tire of his arms around her.

A couple of songs later he said, “I know you could probably do this all evenin’, but I need somethin’ to drink.”

“I’m thirsty, too.”

He poured her a jar of lemonade and sweetened a cup of coffee for himself. Caleb and Ellie were sitting side by side, the baby on Ellie’s lap, watching the dancers when Benjamin and Lorabeth approached.

“I’ll hold Madeline for a while,” she told Ellie. “You two go dance.”

“This is your night, Lorabeth,” Ellie objected.

“And I’m having a wonderful time,” she said. “But we’re going to rest and have our refreshments, so you two take some time for yourselves.”

Ellie handed Madeline over with a grateful smile, and the two of them threaded their way onto the floor.

Madeline was awake, and had probably just nursed, because she looked sleepy-eyed and content. She blinked up at Lorabeth and the side of her tiny wet mouth slid into a grin. Lorabeth kissed her soft warm head and placed her over her shoulder, snuggled in the blanket. The baby smelled like fresh laundry, warm milk and possessed a sweet fragrance all her own. Her slight weight was a welcome presence against Lorabeth’s breast.

Benjamin sipped his coffee and looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher. Someone had placed two slices of layered white cake with a berry filling in front of them.

“You going to try that?” she asked.

“What about your pumpkin pie?”

“I can make you one anytime. You may never get to try this again.”

He picked up a fork and took a piece of cake, but instead of eating it, he held the bite toward her. “You first.”

She opened her mouth and took his offering, sweet and delicious with a mouthwatering raspberry bite. “Mmm.” She chewed slowly and swallowed. “Delicious.”

“More?”

She nodded.

He fed her several more bites before trying the cake himself, then started on the second slice. “Are you having a good time?” he asked.

“I am.” A couple caught her attention. “Look.”

He turned his head.

Carrie and Ida were dancing together, laughing as though they were schoolgirls. Parker and Zeta worked their way through the crowd to find a spot beside them. Lorabeth was glad Benjamin hadn’t wanted to play their silly games tonight. She was delighted to have him all to herself.

Someone moved up beside Benjamin then, and she glanced up at Carter. “Care to dance, Lorabeth?” he asked.

She looked from Carter’s boyish face to Benjamin’s. She’d been content right here, but she didn’t want to be rude.

Benjamin’s expression was unreadable, but he reached for Madeline and cradled the baby in the crook of his left arm as capably as you please. “Go ahead. I’ll stay here until Ellie comes back.”

Madeline gazed up at him with a little furrow between her brows, then sleepily closed her eyes. Obviously content, she moved her lips in an endearing little sucking motion.

With a puzzled look at Benjamin, Lorabeth stood and followed Carter to the dance floor. Just as they reached an opening, the music changed to a slow song, and Carter took one of her hands and placed his other at her waist.