Eddie’s Prize (27 page)

Sitting beside Eddie was Ruth who, Lisa saw with a stab of rage, was all but plastered against his side. He accused her of flirting with Dane, but he was practically snuggling with another woman? Bree’s hand on her arm was the only thing that kept her from rushing over to kick Eddie and slap Ruth’s smug face.

“Eddie doesn’t like it,” Bree whispered. “See?”

Eddie wasn’t smiling, and his body leaned away from Ruth. Lisa calmed.

“Come on, Lisa. If we sit at the table with Mom and Dad, he can use us as an excuse to leave her.”

Lisa went with Bree to the head table and sat down beside her mother-in-law. “How are you feeling?”

“Still a bit tired, but better,” Darlene replied. “Have you had enough to eat?”

“I’m stuffed.” Lisa scanned the tables, looking for Eddie. He was still with his friends, Ruth sitting too close. So much for him needing an excuse to be able to leave her. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you. What on earth is Eddie doing down there? He should be sitting up here. Lisa, go fetch him.”

She went down the three steps to the arena floor and threaded her way through the tables to where her husband sat. A man she hadn’t met gave her a brilliant smile. She automatically smiled back as she passed him. Ruth now had her hand on Eddie’s thigh. Before Lisa could say anything, Eddie stood up. He sent a murderous look at the man who’d smiled at her before his face smoothed to blandness.

“I have to run to check the horses one more time,” he told Lisa. “I shouldn’t be gone too long. Save me a dance.”

A week ago he would have sounded regretful and given her a kiss. Lisa smothered the words she wanted to say. “All right, I’ll let your mother know.”

She ignored Ruth, nodded at Val and Cory, and went back to the Madison table. “He has to go out on vet business, but he’ll be back,” she reported.

Darlene glanced at her son’s back as he threaded his way through the crowd. “Is something wrong between you and Eddie?”

For a moment Lisa thought about telling Darlene she’d overheard her telling Eddie she couldn’t be trusted. But her mother-in-law looked tired and sick. She shook her head. “No, just the usual little conflicts newlyweds have,” she said vaguely. “I suppose it’s about time for us to get started on the dishes.”

Darlene’s eyebrows rose. “The men do the dishes. They take care of all the cleanup at the Gala. But first, we need to hand out the annuities. Ray? Are you ready?”

“You bet.” Ray waved his arm and picked up a megaphone that had been tucked under the table. “Ladies and gentlemen of Kearney!” he bellowed through the horn. “Can I have your attention, please?”

The crowd quieted slowly, and when they had, he went on. “This has been a very good year for Kearney. We’ve had no deaths, but six babies were born, one of them a girl. Three more babies are expected in the next couple months. And…” He paused for dramatic effect. “Two dozen unmarried women have been added to our community this year. ’Course, they’re not likely to stay single, now are they, gentlemen?”

The crowd hollered and clapped and pounded the tables like they’d just been told their football team had won the Superbowl.

“The harvest was good for our neighbors, and we were able to pay our taxes in full thanks to the Bride Fights a few months ago.” Ray bowed theatrically to Lisa, and then a smaller bow to a narrow, well-groomed man sitting at a nearby table with a black-haired woman dressed in a low cut, too-tight, red dress beside him. “Peter Vann has already collected the taxes, and he and his men and his friend, Miss Merritt, have stayed on to celebrate with us.”

The applause was decidedly cooler. Lisa craned her head to examine the vice mayor, and wondered if “vice” was part of his title like vice president, or if he was in charge of vice in Omaha. After months of living in a prairie town where people earned their living with hard work, Lisa thought the man from Omaha looked too slick and polished to be trustworthy.

Ray was a good speaker. He was inspiring, sometimes amusing, encouraging, and best of all, brief. After a ten minute speech on the state of Kearney, he went on to call names. As each family came forward, he spoke to them privately, thanking them for what they specifically did for Kearney, and handed the head of the house a slip of paper.

“A voucher,” Darlene explained in a quiet voice to Lisa. “Each family is given a written list of things they can come to us to receive during the next few months.”

“Like what?” Lisa was fascinated. Was this taxation in reverse? Instead of paying taxes to the mayor, the mayor paid taxes to them?

“Seed, fabric, dried beef, things like that. It depends on how much work they do for the town, like working on street maintenance and snow removal. Yes, the people of Kearney do pay a tax. Faron Paulson and his policemen and Steve Herrick and his workers have to be paid, but we give back to the taxpayers for their labor.”

Interesting system. Lisa doubted it would ever have worked in the Times Before. When it was done, the women flocked to the locker rooms to change while the men washed dishes. Darlene was already wearing the dress Lisa had given her for Christmas, so she sent Bree and Lisa off to change.

The locker rooms were dimly lit with lanterns, and they were freezing cold. None of the women tarried while changing except Lisa, and she hurried through putting her hair into a sleek French twist and applying a light layer of makeup. In the locker room, Bree waited for her, shivering with cold and impatience, while Lisa looked at her uneven reflection in the mirror critically. She didn’t look like herself. She was neither the glamorous model she had been nor the hardworking wife she’d become. The dress fit beautifully. She thought she looked very, well, a new, more elegant version of Lisa Madison.

“You look great,” Bree said with obvious sincerity. “But can we go now? I’m freezing!”

They left the locker room to go back upstairs to the warmth of the arena with its big braziers and standing lamp holders. Steve Herrick was waiting for them in the hall outside the locker room.

“You look very pretty, Mrs. Madison and Miss Madison,” he said, teasing them with gentle gallantry. “May I escort you ladies to the ball?”

Bree giggled when he bowed and took one of the arms he crooked for them. “I suppose Mom sent you to guard us. She’s afraid someone will steal us from the Gala.”

“Well, it’s not likely,” Steve said, walking them up the stairs. “But it could happen. Always better safe than sorry, right?”

Lisa and Bree joined some other women at the door. Steve gave them an exaggerated bow with many hand flourishes and melted into the crowd. The big room was being transformed from a dining room to a dance hall. With a little organization, eight hundred men could get a lot done. Lisa winced at the squeals and thumps of tables being folded and dragged across the floor.

Bree winced too, but her smile quickly came back. “Your dress is really pretty, and I love the way you’ve done your hair.” Her pale blue eyes examined Lisa’s face. “You’re wearing makeup!”

“You saw me put it on.” Lisa’s teasing tone died. “It’s getting pretty old now, so this is the last time I’ll get to wear it.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s funny. I never used to notice I had it on, but now it feels a bit strange.”

“Uh-huh. Let’s go collect our plates and stuff.” She had to raise her voice to be heard.

Lisa followed her to the kitchen. The metallic clang of washed and dried silverware being tossed into piles and the clatter of plates rang out in the hallway, which was crowded with other women who had come to pick up their things. But as they pushed through the women, she noticed the kitchen’s large, rolling service window cover was raised to reveal the activity inside the kitchen. She stopped dead with her mouth open. There were fifty or sixty young men working briskly in there, all shirtless. The women weren’t there just to collect their tableware. They were there to watch a show. The Chippendales had nothing on the young men of Kearney. The models and actors Lisa had mingled with in her old life had bodies they had worked to make perfect. The men of Kearney had bodies honed by daily physical labor, and the results were stupendous. Lisa saw Cory drying dishes and realized the physique she assumed to be scrawny was slim but leanly muscled.

She bent so her lips were close to Bree’s ear. “Are we supposed to be staring like this?”

“Sure. It’s the Gala. Eddie told me the guys fight for the right to be on kitchen crew. The men always take their shirts off so they don’t get wet while they’re working.” She stilled. A scolding note raised her voice. “But you’re a married lady. You’re not supposed to watch. Go back to Mom and Dad.”

Lisa suppressed a laugh and fought her way out of the crowd of women. How many of these girls had watched Eddie wash dishes? That thought banished the laugh and made her want to pull someone’s hair.

The arena was set up now for dancing. The head table was still in its place on the stage. Ray was talking to Faron Paulson, and Darlene sat with her head nodding with weariness. Some tables were still set up at the edges of the room with leftover goodies set out for snacking, and there were plenty of chairs for people to sit in when not dancing, but the center of the room was clear. On the opposite end of the room from the Madisons, a handful of men were setting up drums, guitars, and violins. It reminded Lisa of a high school dance in the school gym. She went to Darlene.

“If you’re tired, I don’t mind going home early.”

“No! We can’t do that. You’ll be doing a lot of dancing tonight. I think I’ll sit most of them out, so you need to represent our family.” She looked Lisa over from head to toe. “You look lovely. You’ll shine like a silver flower when you dance.”

Dance, she did. The first dance of the evening was opened with only Ray and Darlene doing a slow, stately waltz while everyone else watched. Afterward, every woman was on the dance floor for every dance. Lisa was claimed first by old Mr. Gray.

“You know how to schottische?” he asked.

Lisa shrugged with a smile. “I grew up in rural Minnesota. Every wedding dance I went to had polkas, waltzes, two steps, and schottisches. Believe me, I can do them all.”

And she did. With Mr. Gray. With his eight grandsons. With Ray. With Peter Vann. With Cory and Chas, and Nathan Martin, and Mr. Packard. After fifteen dances, the band called for a break. Lisa thanked God for the chance to rest and took the apple cider Mr. Packard brought her. Only after pouring half of it down her throat did she realize it was hard cider.

“You better slow down, Mrs. Madison,” he said with an amused quirk to his lips. “No need to drink so fast. There’s plenty more where that came from, and it should last all night.”

Lisa noticed some of Taye’s Pack prowling through the crowd. They seemed to be more anxious to keep a protective eye on the women they considered theirs than to dance. Lisa wondered if she might be one of the women they were watching out for. She saw Jay, Snake, and Jelly always near her, at equal distances from each other and her. As the band came back to their instruments, Snake broke formation and asked her to dance.

“Where’s Carla tonight?” she asked as he turned her in an expert circle.

“She has a cold.” He shrugged. “The Chief wouldn’t have liked her to come, anyway. Too many men here.”

She was startled. “Did he say she couldn’t come?”

Snake smiled. “No, he’s not stupid. But she knew how he felt.”

“What about Tami?”

He shook his head. His wavy hair brushed over the hand she had on his shoulder. “None of the women came. Only some of us men came, mostly to help Des protect his women. And see if any of us might find our mate.”

After her dance with Snake, she danced with Jelly, Jay, two of the werewolves who lived at the Plane Women’s House, and men she’d never met until tonight. When the band called for another well-deserved break, she went to sit on the edge of the stage that held the head table, fanning her flushed face. The room might be cold, but such vigorous dancing warmed the dancers.

Dane Overdahl found her there and offered her another cider. Thirst made Lisa welcome the cold drink, if not its presenter. She sipped more cautiously this time. When Dane asked her to dance, as she was afraid he would, she struggled for a polite way to refuse him.

“Lisa!” Ray’s voice boomed from the table above like the voice of an angry god. “Don’t be rude. Dance with the man.”

Lisa accepted the hand Dane extended. To keep up appearances, she smiled while he led her out to the dance floor. The dance was a slow waltz, and she had to admit Dane danced well. The clasp of his hand was warm, the arm around her waist firm as he guided her in the dance. He was three or four inches taller than she, so she had to look up to see his face. She expected him to take liberties, but other than pulling her a little too close, there was nothing for her to protest. Even his conversation was unobjectionable at first.

“It’s been a great Gala, don’t you think, Mrs. Madison?” he remarked innocuously.

“Yes, I’m really enjoying myself.”

He sent an admiring glance over her. “Your dress is beautiful. Like one from the Times Before. Is that one you designed?”

“Yes, it is. Thank you.” The slow beat of the music made it too easy to relax in his arms. Lisa stiffened her back. “I suppose your mill business slows down in the winter?”

“Quite a bit, yes, but not entirely. Some people keep their grain whole until they want it ground for flour. Of course, our busiest time is late fall, after harvest.” He moved a little closer to execute a turn. “Where’s Eddie got off to?”

“Vet business. He’ll be back soon.”

“Must be quite the emergency to take him away from the Gala.”

Lisa braced herself. A new note had entered his voice, slightly sarcastic, slightly disdainful. “Yes.”

“How are you and Eddie doing?”

“Fine.”

His lips brushed her ear. “That’s a fib, darling. Eddie is behaving like a spoiled little boy.”

Was the music ever going to end? She saw other dancers watching them. “Please, you’re holding me too close.”

“Not as close as I’d like to,” he whispered. “Come home with me. Repudiate Eddie, and I’ll treat you like a queen.”