Dancing Shoes and Honky-Tonk Blues (16 page)

A gasp rises up from the audience and I think I might have heard my mama booing. Rio tightens his arm about my waist.

Carson waves a dismissive hand at the audience. “You know what I’m talking about. Don’t deny it. Chill, people.”

The crowd collectively boos, not just my mama this time.

Holding up his hand to quiet the crowd, Ben rolls his eyes. “Carson, this is a live show. Get to your point.”

Again I know in the back of my head that this is drama for ratings but it’s enough to make me sweat on top of already sweating!

“Very well. While Abby the waitress is somewhat lacking in finesse, she more than makes up for it in moxie.”

I’m not sure what moxie means but it seems to please Rio because he gives me a squeeze and smiles down at me.

“Since Ben is giving me the hurry-it-up look I’ll simply say that I enjoyed the performance. It was sexy and smart. Rio and Abby, my hat goes off to you.” He holds up an eight.

“Myra?” Ben asks. “What are your comments for Rio and Abby?”

“Oh,” she gushes while shaking her head, making her huge hair sort of flop around, “that was delicious. Rio, honey, you made me sweat. What have you done to this little ole waitress from Misty Creek? Abby, baby, you rock, girl. I give you a solid nine!”

Rio inclines his head and I follow suit with a polite nod. I was instructed to be gracious with criticism and classy with praise. Under no circumstances are we to whoop it up and of course my nature is to do just that but I hold it in by swallowing and trying to keep my grin under control.

“Peter?” Ben asks. “You look ready to explode over there. What do you have to say?”

Peter is smiling and squirming with excitement. “Listen. When I was asked to do this show I was, like, no way. Misty Creek? Redneck ballroom dancing? Sure, it could be
amusing
. . . but come on, people. How much can a person endure? Okay, I have to confess that it
is
entertaining. I mean, when that Jimmy Joe the plumber spun around on his back like a dead cockroach, I about lost it.” Peter puts his hand to his mouth and shakes his head.

“Peter,” Ben warns.

I’m not sure where Peter is going with this and I do some squirming of my own. I feel Rio stiffen, so he’s wondering, too.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get to my point. Rio, you sexy beast, you have worked a miracle and turned this little waitress into a dancing machine. Abby girl, you put the motion in Cuban. I give you a nine!” He flicks up his sign with a flourish and the crowd roars.

Ohmigod, we’re in first place! I sway a little with giddy relief and really wish I could give Rio a huge hug but I’m afraid that it might be unprofessional when I’m not really professional anyway. Ben is explaining to the television audience how to text-message votes or to go online to vote for a favorite redneck.

“Now we’ll show you a short clip from each dance to refresh your memory. Remember that your votes count! For the first three weeks we will eliminate the bottom two couples, leaving the final six, and then
one
each week after that until we have our champion, who will be awarded
fifty thousand dollars
! So call, text, or vote online for your favorite couple because tomorrow night two of these couples will be voted off the show. Until tomorrow, I’m Ben Sebastian . . . see ya!”

I still want to hug Rio but when the show ends the crowd rushes forward and it’s mass chaos. There are way too many hugs and flashbulbs flashing for my liking but I smile and hug all those who approach me. But what I’m not prepared for is when a youngster thrusts a pen and paper at me and she asks for my autograph! Can you imagine? Me?

I start to write my name after I remember it but she stops me and says, “Make it out to Carrie.”

“Oh, okay.” I try to act famous and all but my fingers tremble a bit. Luckily Carrie stands there beaming and doesn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, thank you.
Thank you!
I’m votin’ for you and”—she points at Rio—“the pirate guy.”

Of course I’m tongue-tied but Rio comes to the rescue. “Thank you very much, Carrie.”

She scurries off and I watch with my jaw hanging open.

Rio leans in and asks in my ear, “How does it feel to be famous?”

“I’m not famous,” I scoff with a wave of my hand but it sure feels like it. Cameras are going off like strobe lights. Rio smiles his crooked smile at me, the one I like the best, and I’m remembering that I still didn’t get a hug from him. I’m about to ask him for one when I suddenly spot Mama and Jesse weaving through the crowd in an attempt to reach us.

“Rio, there’s Mama and Jesse.” I grab his hand and move in that direction.

“Oh, Abby!” Mama hugs me hard and then pulls back to kiss me on both cheeks. “I was so proud of you!” She promptly bursts into tears and of course I try to hold back but I join her.

“And you, young man, were absolutely wonderful!” she says to Rio while dabbing at her eyes with a hanky. Mama is in her highest heels but still has to crane her head back to look up at Rio.

“Why, thank you.”

“Oh, you are so welcome. My,
my
, handsome and polite too!” She dabs at the corner of her eyes carefully, keeping her mascara from running, and then steps forward and gives Rio a fierce hug. He looks a bit startled at the intensity of her affection but when it comes to emotions Mama rarely holds back.

Jesse gives me a double knuckle-bump and then a big bear hug. “You were amazing, Abby. I knew you would be.”

“You did not.”

Jesse laughs. “Well, let’s say I was hoping that you would be amazing and you were.” He thrusts his hand out to Rio. “Nice to meet you, Rio. I’m Jesse Harper.”

“Likewise.” Rio clasps Jesse’s hand and they both smile but Jesse gives him a bit of a look that says that he had better be good to me. Rio seems to get the unspoken message and instead of smiling like he could, he gives Jesse a serious look and a nod, telling him that he understands.

This seems to satisfy Jesse and he breaks into a more kidlike grin. “How in the world were you able to teach my sister to dance like that?”

Mama gives Jesse an elbow but Rio laughs. “Your sister is a hard worker. Never gives up.”

“Oh, like you would let me.”

Rio chuckles. “See, we understand each other.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Mama watching us, and she arches one delicate eyebrow. I see her wondering if there’s something more between Rio and me than dancing but of course she’s much too polite to ask. But she’s wondering. Before she can draw me aside and ask privately it’s announced over a loudspeaker that our limos are waiting to whisk us back up the mountain to the lodge.

I give Mama a quick hug and then turn to Jesse and do the same. “The inns are full, Abby,” he whispers in my ear. “Business at the diner has been booming. I haven’t seen Mama this happy in a long time. Keep up the good work, sis.”

I pull back, on the verge of tears again, and Jesse is doing some major league blinking as well. A typical guy, though, he gives my shoulder a shove, clears his throat, and then says, “Good luck! I’m going home to vote.”

“Oh yes, we havta vote!” Mama says but then frowns. “Oh.” She puts her hands to her cheeks. “I don’t know how! Just what is tex-mexing? I thought that was spicy food. You know, tacos and whatnot.”

Jesse chuckles. “Text-messaging. I’ll show you, Mama.”

Tears well up in my eyes as I turn to go. I miss them so much. Being famous might be fun and all but I suddenly realize that I wouldn’t give up my life for the world.

Rio escorts me out to the limo. All of the dance partners are chatting and hugging once we are outside and it reminds me that I never did get my hug. I’m about to ask but Rio suddenly seems all business like he knows that I’m about to throw myself into his arms. I guess it’s written all over my face.

“I’ll see you bright and early, Abby. Get a good night’s sleep, okay? And a good breakfast too. Be ready to work hard.”

I nod and somehow muster up a smile, trying not to show my disappointment at his businesslike demeanor. I know he’s keeping his distance and sticking to our resistance pact . . . but would a little ole hug hurt? I’m thinking that I’m going to just throw caution to the wind and hug him anyway but he turns on his heel and walks away. I have the urge to run after him, grab his arm, and swing him around for a hug and a kiss, but of course I don’t. With a sigh, I slip inside the limo. By rights I should be on cloud nine and although I’m thrilled that our dance went so well, there just seems to be something missing.

My damned hug!

The ride back up to the lodge is full of whooping and hollering and I try to join in even though my heart isn’t really in it. My doggone heart is too busy mooning over Rio Martin.

I mentally tell myself to
stop
. I’m in the thick of this competition and I owe it to my family to focus on dancing. “Keep your eyes on the prize,” I say to myself but Daisy Potter the Piggly Wiggly cashier hears me and turns her gaze my way.

“Now, there’s the spirit, Abby.” She thrusts a flute of champagne that I didn’t realize had been popped open into my hand. Raising her glass she says to everyone, “Here’s to keeping your eyes on the prize!”

“Hear, hear!” we collectively shout and of course I join in, not wanting to bring attention to my Rio state of mind.

“Here’s to fifty grand!” Travis Tucker adds. He tips back his flute to take a drink, just as the limo lurches, and sloshes it down his chin. Everybody laughs. Everyone is in a good mood.

I should be in a good mood. After all, I’m in the running for the money.

Yeah, fifty grand. Think with your head and not with your heart, I tell myself firmly. Of course my heart just doesn’t
get it.

Easier Said Than Done

“Look, Rio, I did a lot of thinking last night and while I know there are valid reasons why we should resist this attraction between us, well, I got to thinkin’ that we could have both. Right? I mean, who is to say that being together would harm our chances at winning? Maybe it would help!” I exclaim with a bright smile. “Let’s just go with the flow. Whadaya say?”

I wrinkle my nose at myself in the mirror. No, he won’t know what
go with the flow
means, and leave out the dorky smile. This is serious stuff. Clearing my throat I begin rehearsing the end of my speech again. “Let’s let the chips fall where they may.” Grrr. He probably won’t know what that means either. “Let’s throw caution to the wind,” I venture with a dramatic wave of my hand. “Oh, that sucked!” And sounded way too risky. I’m so bad at this.
So very bad.

Licking my lips, I flip my ponytail over my shoulder and open my mouth to start again but I’m beginning to have my doubts that this is a wise thing to do. Then again, I went to sleep with Rio on my mind and woke up the same danged way, so how could giving in to my feelings for him make things worse? I think this resistance thing is just way too hard. I mean, why fight it? It occurs to me that I should ask him just who hurt him in the past to make him so cautious but I simply don’t have the nerve. Some chick must have done a number on him.

With a sigh I decide to give it one more shot. “Rio, I know that we decided to resist this growing attraction between us and I fully understand the reasons why, but the fact is that I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve never felt this way before. You’ll only be here for a few weeks and I don’t want you to leave Misty Creek without giving our relationship a chance. I do believe that I would regret that for the rest of my life.”

There. I nod my head at myself. The end might have been a little heavy on the drama but it’s the truth. If I don’t tell Rio Martin how I feel I
will
regret it. With the sudden passing of my daddy I truly know how fragile life can be and there should be no regrets. The saying “nothing ventured, nothing gained” comes to mind and I think it’s about time that I start venturing.

“Oh no!” The red digital numbers on the bedside alarm clock tell me that breakfast is almost over. Knowing that Rio will be working me harder than ever, I grab my bag with my dancing shoes and extra towels to mop my sweat that is sure to come and hurry out the door. Sure enough, they’re closing down breakfast but I manage to snag a chocolate doughnut and a bottle of apple juice. I wanted orange juice but it’s all gone.

While chewing on bites of doughnut and sipping the sweet juice I all but sprint down the hallway not really tasting my breakfast because I’m rehearsing my little speech in my head instead of thinking about eating. Not an easy task. When I reach the rehearsal room door, though, I get skittish, causing the doughnut to do swan dives into the puddle of apple juice sloshing in my tummy. I put a hand to my stomach in an effort to stop the flipping and flopping and then take a deep breath. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I remind myself and armed with that thought I push open the heavy door.

“Rio, I know we decided . . .” I begin but my perfect little speech dies on my lips when I see Rio talking in rather loud and rapid Spanish to the dark-haired woman from the dance videos. Their conversation is so intense and heated that they don’t even notice me.

She’s beautiful . . . dark and exotic, petite and curvy—everything I’m not. Her cleavage is all but spilling out of her low-cut top, a deep ruby red that matches her pouting lips.

My heart of course plummets like a sky diver whose parachute fails to open, and it feels as if it lands with a dull thud somewhere near my toes. With a long sigh I mentally rip my speech to itty-bitty pieces and imagine it falling to the ground like confetti. For a moment I simply stand there wondering if I could slowly back up without being noticed. I used to be pretty good at that as a teenager but I’m a little rusty.

I’m contemplating doing just that but when the dark-haired woman places a small hand on Rio’s bare chest where his shirt gapes open and looks up at him with doe-like pleading eyes I’ve officially had enough. I clear my throat to get their attention but it sounds a little gurgled so I clear it again, more forcefully this time, and they simultaneously swivel their dark heads in my direction.