The Western Dare (Harlequin Heartwarming) (15 page)

“Maizie said they’re for breakfast,” Jared explained. “My dad’s gonna take Mark and me out for hamburgers tonight, Ms. Benton. Is that okay?”

Emily seemed taken aback. “I, well, that’s fine. I’ll fix something for myself.”

Camp frowned. “I thought we’d eat in town, Emily, and then go on to the dance.”

“‘We’?” She stopped and raised a brow. “Oh. I assumed we were only going to meet afterward, to walk the girls home.”

Camp tried unsuccessfully to hide the disappointment sweeping through him. The last thing he wanted to do was press her into a date if she was reluctant. But she seemed as unsure as he was, so he decided to try again. “I thought I’d asked you to go with me, Emily. If you don’t like to dance we can just listen to the music.”

“I like to dance. It’s been a long time,” she said, ducking her head to keep him from seeing her flushed cheeks.

“That’s good.” He battled a sudden urge to touch her face. To lift her chin so he could read those huge, compelling eyes. “I want to dance with you, Em.” He winced. “Unless you don’t want to dance with me?”

“Of course I do,” she retorted, then lowered her voice. “I shouldn’t even have to tell you that. But if you want your ego stroked, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” She nervously clasped and unclasped her hands.

Camp caught both in one of his and let his gaze run slowly from the tip of her toes to the crown of her head. “Looks like the right tree to me,” he murmured huskily.

Her breath escaped like a puff of steam. “I’m going by to check on Gina to tell her what we saw. Perhaps we should just meet at the dance.”

He felt her withdrawing. “This is a date, Emily. Get used to the idea. I’ll meet you in front of Gina’s hotel two hours from now. That’ll give us time for a leisurely dinner. I hope you aren’t the type to stand a guy up.” He winked at Jared and ruffled Mark’s hair. “Don’t wait up for your mom, sport. I intend to have the last dance.”

As Camp strolled off, Mark grinned slyly at his mother.

Clearly flustered, Emily swallowed three retorts. Finally she gave up and shooed the boys on their way.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“I think cowboys tamed the West. I don’t believe what Sherry said, that a cowboy’s horse and six-gun were more important than girls.”

—From Brittany’s data sheet,
filled with praise for cowboys.

T
HE
DANCE
WAS
in full swing by the time Camp and Emily joined the line waiting to enter. At her insistence, dinner had been casual—Coney
Island-style hot dogs at a Lions Club booth. They laughed with strangers over the antics everyone went through to keep mustard, catsup and sauerkraut from dripping onto their clothes. Emily called a halt at one. She dabbed mustard off Camp’s chin after he ate his second dog right down to the paper.

He loved seeing the funny faces she made at his pathetic attempts to clean the sticky condiments off his mouth while they waited to get into the dance. The playful banter contributed in part to the subtle difference Camp detected in their relationship tonight. Was it because he insisted they call their evening a date, or because Emily had changed into a dress made of some soft, pale-yellow material? Not frilly, yet it underlined her womanliness, or so it seemed to Camp.

As soon as he paid the nominal entry fee and they stepped inside the converted barn that’d been lit with lanterns and dressed up with hay bales and checkered tablecloths, he noticed a return of Emily’s cool reserve.

A large area of the plank floor was packed with people doing circle dances to lively bluegrass tunes. Camp felt the beat of the music through the soles of his boots as he and Emily jostled around the perimeter of the dance floor.

“I don’t see the girls.” Emily paused frequently to rise on tiptoes and peer through a maze of cowboy hats.

Camp guided her with a warm hand flattened at the small of her back. “We’ve barely made it a fourth of the way around the building, Emily. At the hot-dog stand I heard someone say the younger crowd often gravitates to the loft, where they have pool tables and free soft drinks.”

“Pool? Megan doesn’t know the first thing about pool!”

“While we’re this close to the stairs, we may as well have a look.”

“I suppose,” she said grudgingly. “But I’m sure it’s a waste of time.”

They’d no sooner cleared the top step than Camp heard Emily’s sharp exhalation. Following the direction of her gaze, he saw Megan, pool cue in hand, give a saucy toss of her head and bend over the table. Judging by the roar of approval that went up from bystanders, Camp guessed that little Megan, who supposedly didn’t know the first thing about pool, was creaming her partner. Craning his neck, Camp saw the girl’s difficult, kitty-corner shot spin into an end pocket. Megan, too, looked different tonight. An old-fashioned crocheted hat crushed her auburn curls. A ribbed cotton crop top showed off her narrow waist.

Brittany spotted Camp and Emily. She leaned in front of a tall cowboy, saying something to the cocky winner. As Megan turned slowly, remoteness replaced the animated smile that’d brightened her face a moment ago.

Breaking away from her pals, she stalked up to her mother. “I thought we agreed to meet at the end of the dance. You can’t resist spying on me, can you?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Emily denied. “I wanted to let you know we were here. Who are these people you’re with? Why aren’t you dancing?”

Megan cast a quick glance over her shoulder at a slim-hipped young man in cowboy garb, who’d finished racking the balls. “Come on, Meg,” he called. “I hope you don’t plan to run off with my ten bucks without giving me a chance to win it back.”

“Megan, you’re betting?” Emily gasped. “I forbid it. We don’t have money for you to throw around foolishly. Whatever possessed you? What do you even know about this...this game?”

Megan blew a large turquoise bubble, let it pop and hauled the gum threads back into her mouth with her tongue. “Dad taught me years ago on Mona and Toby’s table. I’m good,” she boasted. “How do you think I get spending money? I’d be laughed out of my old crowd on the skimpy allowance you dole out.”

Camp saw the color leave Emily’s face. He felt her slender body begin to shake. Pulling her into the curve of his side, he panned the group huddled around the table. None looked like high rollers. If she just stepped back a minute, Emily would see they were all clear-eyed, clean-cut youngsters.

Megan’s rudeness was another issue, and not one to be dealt with now. Not one that was really his problem....

“Take it easy on these guys, ace,” Camp teased Megan as he smoothed a hand up Emily’s rigid back. “Your mom and I would hate to see you sucker some poor cowboy out of his rodeo entry fee. Isn’t that right, Emily?”

Megan sniffed disdainfully. “I could.”

Willing Emily to loosen up, Camp continued to massage her stiff neck. Lazily scoping out the players a second time, Camp let his eyes meet Brittany’s. He couldn’t tell if her smoldering anger was aimed at Emily or at him. At both of them for being together, he surmised. Too bad; she needed to get past that crush.

“Your mom and I are going down to see if we can convince the band to play some old-fogy music,” Camp informed Megan casually. “We’ll meet you and Brittany at the close of the dance. Oh, and Megan...if you want the guy in the black shirt to ask you to dance, don’t take all his money.”

The girl frowned for a moment, then tossed her head and laughed. “My dad had a big ego, too. He hated losing. ’Course, I usually let him win.” The laughter died suddenly. Eyes overbright, she blinked them clear and swung gaily back to the table.

Camp sensed Emily gearing up to explode. He didn’t know who she was maddest at, Megan or him, but he figured the fallout would enlarge the chasm between mother and daughter. He all but bullied Emily down the stairs.

“How dare you,” she said in a furious whisper after he hauled her into a relatively vacant corner below the stairs. “That’s my child up there betting.
Gambling.”
Cupping her elbows, Emily began to pace. “Now I find out her...her father taught her. And you...
you condoned it.
You and Dave. I suppose if she’d lost, you would’ve given her money the way Mona and Toby do.” Hugging her waist, she seemed almost ill.

“No.” Camp tried to take her in his arms, but she shook him off. “This isn’t Atlantic City, Emily. It’s Council Grove, Kansas. These are penny-ante games to while away an evening. The stakes aren’t high enough to send anyone to the poorhouse.”

“You find it funny? I’ve seen Dave drop a thousand dollars in a few games of pool. He always thought the next game he’d win it back.”

“It sounded to me like Megan saw through her dad. Couldn’t you give her the benefit of the doubt? If they don’t come down to dance in half an hour or so, I’ll go put a stop to it and we’ll leave. Megan’s underage and Brittany’s in my care for the duration of the trip.”

Emily looked moderately relieved, but Camp still wasn’t able to persuade her to dance. Her gaze strayed time and again to the stairway. Only after she saw the group of laughing young people trip lightly down the stairs did color return to her face.

Later, though, Megan and Brittany slipped outside with two boyish-looking cowboys. Emily fretted that they’d gone out to sneak drinks.

“It’s possible,” Camp said calmly. “Do you know for certain that Megan drinks?”

Near tears, Emily shook her head. “But then, I didn’t know Dave taught her to play pool, either. He always had a glass of gin in his hand,” Emily said as if that was a telling factor.

“They may just have gone out for air. Or maybe the guys smoke. Dance with me, Emily. If this was anyone’s kid but yours, you’d advise her parents to loosen the reins, wouldn’t you?”

She rubbed her temples. “I guess. Yes, I would. But until this past, awful year, I never believed I’d be sitting on the other side of the table.”

Camp gathered her in his arms and waltzed her out on the floor. The bluegrass band had been replaced by a country group. For their first number, they played a love ballad. Though his back was to the door, Camp knew the minute Megan returned. Emily went pliant against his chest. Not that he minded. His chin nestled comfortably atop her silky hair. Her warm breath tickled his throat. They danced the next four numbers straight, occasionally passing one or other of the girls. Megan avoided eye contact. Brittany dealt them frost.

It took three rounds of slow dances before Emily felt the tension leave her body and began to enjoy herself. She tried to look at Megan as others must see her. As a pretty, popular girl. Megan danced with an easy grace that reminded Emily of herself before she’d married Dave. A jolting thought. And sad. They’d been happy once. The disintegration of their marriage came on gradually, starting with her first pregnancy. When morning sickness, expanding middle and swollen feet left her drained, Dave simply went places and partied without her. That Megan was born in winter only served to keep Emily and the baby more housebound. At the time she couldn’t know that Dave was on a roller-coaster ride downhill.

“A dollar for your thoughts,” Camp ventured, tilting her chin so he could smile into her suddenly distant eyes.

She gave a start. “A dollar? Talk about inflation.”

“Well, you’d drifted so far away, a penny hardly seemed enough to entice you back. They’ve announced the last dance. Shall we brave it or do you want to sit it out?”

“The last dance? Already?”

Chuckling, Camp molded her close. “We’ve been dancing for an hour. I’m running out of steam, while you’re like a kid gathering speed.”

His remark coaxed a smile. “Tomorrow I’ll pay for all my youthful ambitions. You’ll be fresh as a daisy and I’ll probably look like a hag. I’d just realized when you asked about my thoughts that I haven’t danced like this since before Megan was born. More like before she was conceived,” Emily laughed.

The thought of her making love with that jerk, even if he had been her husband, spoiled what remained of Camp’s good mood. “Emily, are you telling me that a man who loved to party, drink and shoot high-stakes pool never took you out?”

Emily drew away the length of their arms. “I’m
not lying. And I’m not angling for your sympathy.
There—” she pointed stiffly “—I see the girls heading out the door. Let’s go.”

Camp twirled her back and folded her into an embrace. “You deserved better treatment, Em. The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” he murmured in her ear. “I’m sorry. It galls me to imagine the way that selfish jerk must have treated you.”

The smell of Camp’s aftershave and the feel of her cheek pressed to his taut muscles awakened a shiver of emotion in Emily that she hadn’t experienced in a long time. “I think what bothered me most were the cruel remarks Toby and Mona made within my hearing—
about things like our not sharing a bedroom after Mark was born. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that Dave had brought his best friend’s wife into our bed while I was in the hospital. I found her makeup and a nightgown. I would’ve divorced him then if he hadn’t told me Mona and Toby would see that he got custody of both kids. I had every reason to believe him. And I’d have walked over hot coals to keep that from happening.”

Camp stopped dancing. He cradled Emily’s face between his hands, and without breaking eye contact, he bent slowly and kissed her softly. At least, it started out soft. As her warmth seeped into his pores, his hands slid down her neck, over her shoulders and fanned across her back, which deepened the kiss. He held her so tightly he felt her lashes brush his cheek as her eyes drifted shut. Spinning out of control, Camp knew he wanted more than simple kisses from Emily Benton. He wasn’t sure what made him finally lift his mouth from hers to take in air. It might have been a change in the beat of the music, or a subtle shift in the dancers. But when Camp looked up, he and Emily were standing alone under a blue spotlight. As he peered dazedly through a break in the crowd, his eyes connected with those of a shocked Megan Benton. Her lips were pressed so tight a white ring bled into a face red with anger. Near her stood a stunned Brittany.

His hands grew sticky with sweat where they’d slid to Emily’s narrow waist. The instant he cleared his throat, her eyes popped open and she blinked several times, out of touch with her surroundings.

“What’s the matter? Are you embarrassed?” she asked quickly.

“Not me. The girls.”

She leaned out, still in the curve of his arms. One look at the unforgiving faces, and Emily groaned.

Camp’s hold on her rib cage tightened. “We did nothing to be ashamed of, Emily. We’re both single adults.”

“You’re right,” she said firmly.

However, Camp noticed she wasted no time disengaging their limbs before she self-consciously straightened her blouse. Her cheeks were crimson.

“Their cowboys must have called it a night,” he said crisply. “I don’t feel we have to explain ourselves, do you, Emily?”

“No.”

As it turned out, that was the last word any of them spoke on the long walk back to the wagons. The girls said nothing. It was a silence brimming with accusations and loathing and it spoke for them as they set a punishing pace.

Emily, head held high, marched three steps behind them and two ahead of Camp.

A charley horse in Camp’s right calf irritated him and kept him from catching up.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Every now and then a flash of lightning cut through the black sky. There were no stars out, and the moon, which had been bright earlier, had gone into hiding. Camp tasted dampness in the air with each indrawn breath. Before now he’d given little thought to the summer storms that frequently rolled across the plains. In the eerie quiet, broken only by their rapid footfalls, he recalled an incident from a pioneer journal. A man’s hat had blown off in a high wind. His horses had spooked, causing the entire wagon train to stampede. One wagon turned over, leaving a young mother and child dead.

Camp rubbed at the ache in his hip. It must be the mood he was in. Thunder didn’t mean the storm would pass through the area.

With effort, Camp managed to close the gap between himself and Emily. “Robert probably double-checked the stock, but I think I’ll have a look around. Maizie planned to visit friends in town. She may or may not be back yet.”