Hope creek, p.25
Hope Creek, page 25
The music was drawing to a close, but his hand—smooth, with no calluses—didn’t release hers. “I’d like to get to know you better, Hanna,” he said. “Why don’t we walk a little, where we don’t have to raise our voices over the music?”
Hanna glanced back over her shoulder. Her father was talking to Lillian’s husband. Lillian was nowhere in sight. Neither was the rugged cowboy who’d danced with her. Hanna felt the gentle pressure of the stranger’s hand against her back, guiding her off the floor. She didn’t resist. Nobody would miss her if she stepped out for a few harmless minutes.
They made their way among the wagons. He stopped her next to an elegant-looking buggy that was parked outside the circle. “This is my buggy,” he said. “Get in. I’ll take you for a ride.”
He offered a hand to help her up, but she stopped him. “No. I can’t go for a ride with you.”
“But why? It’s a beautiful evening. And I’ve got the slickest team of horses in the county.”
“You don’t know my father. He’d punish me, and he’d probably find a way to damage you, too. He’s a good man, but you don’t want to cross him. Let’s just stand here and talk.”
“All right.” He nodded, leaning against the buggy. “So, is your mother here, too?”
“No, she took the wagon home early with my brothers and sisters. I wanted to stay for the dance, so my father remained with me. We were planning to ride home with a neighbor.”
“I could offer you both a ride. Maybe if he got to know me, he’d let me see you again. I’m not one of those cowhands that might take advantage of a sweet girl like you. I’ve got my own ranch—at least it’ll be mine when my mother passes away.”
“Don’t bother asking. My father would never accept.” Hanna was beginning to feel uneasy. What if her father were to catch her out here, alone with a man? “I’d better go back before he comes looking for me.”
She turned to go. Mason blocked her path. “Wait.” His hand cupped her jaw, tilting her face upward. “Lord Almighty,” he murmured. “Angel, I feel like I just stepped into heaven. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Hanna’s heart broke into a gallop as he bent closer. His lips were almost touching hers when an angry voice shattered the spell.
“Damn it, Mason, let that girl go. Her father’s fit to be tied. If he finds her out here with you, he’ll skin you alive!”
Hanna turned. The tall cowboy she’d noticed earlier, the one with the blue shirt and leather vest, stood a few feet away from them. “Get inside and find your father, miss,” he said. “You can claim you went to the privy. If he asks, I’ll tell him I saw you coming from that direction. Meanwhile, I need to have words with my brother, here.”
Hanna gasped, shocked that a man would mention bodily functions to her. But at least he’d come up with a good excuse for her father. Hot faced, she fled back toward the dance floor, weaving her way among the buggies and wagons. That was when a cry went up from somewhere out of sight.
“Fire!”
Turning, Hanna saw a distant column of smoke rising against the twilight sky. The prairie was burning.
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Janet Dailey, Hope Creek
