Rancher's Deadly Risk (13 page)

“It’ll be fun,” he assured her. “And it’s a part of this county you’re not going to see on your own, not if you’re wise.”

“What does wisdom have to do with it?”

“A lot of people are cutting loose. Like I said, I’ll get you out of there before it gets too rowdy.”

She got the message, and her curiosity was piqued. She had to admit she wouldn’t go to a bar or a roadhouse by herself, and she was willing to bet the flavor of nightspots around here was different than other places she had lived.

Curiosity trumped caution. She had no idea why he’d asked her to go dancing, and feared she might be stepping into something she knew nothing about, but she’d never been afraid to take a little risk. If she had been, she never would have taken this job. “Okay,” she said. “But I’m a lousy dancer.”

“So are a lot of other people. You won’t be alone.”

“No practice tonight?”

He shook his head. “We have a game tomorrow. I like the players to have the night off right before when it’s possible. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.”

After he dropped her off at home, with directions to wear jeans and comfortable shoes, she puttered around, trying to keep busy while she pondered this strange turn of affairs.

What in the world was going on? Date? Not date? A rescue attempt against the forces of gossip?

She wished she knew.

Linc wished he knew, too. What had possessed him? Last night he’d barely escaped a temptation that had threatened to drown him, and now he was proposing to take the woman dancing?

He’d lost it.

Out in the pastures, tending to his animals and listening to a coyote howl in the distance, he decided he might be getting himself into trouble, which just proved that a grown man could repeat his mistakes, even after painful lessons.

Nor did it make him feel any wiser to remember that she’d been reluctant. Reluctant about dancing, he was sure, but he suspected she was equally reluctant to go with him. He’d had women jump all over such an opportunity before, and he damn well knew when one wasn’t jumping.

So maybe it would all be okay. He was doing the neighborly thing, showing her around a bit, at least to places she wouldn’t find on her own, like his ranch and a roadhouse. He half expected the atmosphere of the roadhouse would turn her off even more. Smokey, crowded, men talking too loud and telling off-color jokes. She seemed to be the type who’d prefer other amusements. She’d mentioned museums and plays, after all. None of that around here.

So he might as well give her the rest of the county’s cold bath: the roadhouse. Which was not to say he had anything against them. After a long, hard week, he didn’t see anything wrong with people wanting to unwind in a boisterous atmosphere with a few beers, some twangy music and some dancing. It wasn’t as if there was a whole heck of a lot else to do. Church socials if you ran that way, but he didn’t, at least not very often. A certain comedian’s impression of church ladies hadn’t been far from the mark, at least in the church he attended.

Maybe he ought to change that, too.

With goats and dogs nudging him, he almost laughed at himself. Change. That was what he was pining for. At least getting out for a few hours of dancing would be a change from the last couple of years.

It would certainly make some tongues wag in a new way. Everybody around here knew Martha had been his last girlfriend, and everybody seemed to know how it had ended. Martha sure hadn’t made a secret of it.

He could imagine the heads shaking as Linc Blair once again took up with an outsider, and by Sunday morning some biddy was bound to suggest he ought to date a local girl. He almost relished the prospect.

Even though the biddy would probably be right.

Aw, what the hell, he thought after he was done tending the animals and had showered and changed. He sat on the back porch for a little while, booted feet up on the railing, and watched twilight take the world.

Almost time to go. He might not know what he was getting himself into here, but there was an unmistakable sense of adventure filling him.

The ranch would never desert him, he thought with amusement. Nor he it. The foundation and cornerstone of his life would always be here, unless he made a stupid financial decision. You really couldn’t ask more from life than that.

Everything was chancy by nature, but as long as he had this place, he could take the rest.

Peace filled him, right alongside anticipation. The evening would be fun, even if it never became any more than that. He’d have a chance to watch Cassie in the world she was trying to adopt, and she’d get to see parts of it she might otherwise never really know about.

That might be all it took to snap this fascination he kept feeling for her.

Or not. As usual, only time would tell.

Dropping his feet with a thud, he rose and tugged his keys out of his jeans pocket. Time to go show a lady a good time.

* * *

Dusty’s Inn didn’t look like much of an inn. The large log building was girdled in garish neon announcing any number of brands of beer along with Dancing and Live Music Saturday. The parking lot, consisting of dirt and gravel, held a dozen or so pickups and a couple of cars, leaving room for many more.

“It isn’t really busy yet,” Linc said as they tooled into a spot next to a pickup that looked older than his. “It’ll give you time to ramp up.”

She grinned at the expression even though she didn’t know exactly what he meant. Excitement and nerves both filled her. “Ramp up?”

“Get used to it. The volume gets a lot worse as the crowd grows. With everyone yammering, Dusty turns up the volume on the music, which makes everyone talk louder. Interesting feedback loop, but I’ve never been able to convince him there’s a point of diminishing return.”

Cassie giggled. “Do I need ear protectors?”

“In an hour or two. For now it won’t be so bad and I won’t keep you past the point where it does.”

Keep her? Interesting turn of phrase, she thought as he helped her out of the truck. Did he feel like he was keeping her from something else? Or was that some colloquialism she hadn’t yet noticed? Then she reminded herself to quit analyzing and just absorb the experience.

She could hear the music already, even though they hadn’t reached the door. The crunch of the gravel beneath her feet made her wish for a sturdy boot rather than her jogging shoes. Judging by the way Linc was dressed, she might well be the only person in the place without a decent pair of boots.

Still it was fun. She was going to a roadhouse in Wyoming on the arm of a cowboy—well, a rancher actually, but tonight she wasn’t going to quibble. Not with anything. Some of her old friends would swoon at the mere thought.

Linc always dressed in Western clothes except the couple of times when she’d seen him wearing sweats like the football team. But tonight he’d replaced his battered hat with one in pristine shape, and she thought the toes of his boots looked polished.

Wow. Putting on the fancy duds, she supposed. It tickled her, especially when he had told her to essentially dress down. She had, however, worn her newest jeans, and a satiny green blouse.

She could feel the throb of bass as they drew closer to the building and wondered if it would already be too loud inside.

A plank door opened and a beefy guy in a red T-shirt blazoned with Dusty’s welcomed them inside. “It’s been a while, Linc.” The guy’s gaze dragged over Cassie with obvious approval.

“Cassie, this is Glenn. He does his best to maintain order.”

Glenn winked at her. “It can be a trial. Nice to see a new face.”

They stepped through a second door and the music hit her like a strong wave. It wasn’t deafening by any means, but it was loud. A few couples were already making their way around the huge dance floor, while others sat to one side at tables. A handful dotted stools at the bar that ran around two sides of the room. Through a large doorway to her right, she could see billiard tables.

“This place has everything,” she said to Linc.

“Well, it has enough. Let’s get a table.”

She was glad he didn’t immediately suggest taking her onto the dance floor. So few people were out there, she felt she’d be embarrassed. Of course, once it got crowded, she’d probably stick out like a sore thumb.

Then she wondered why she should feel embarrassed at all. Everyone had to learn some time, as she told her students often, and everybody made mistakes.

Linc ordered soft drinks and an appetizer for them.

“You can have a beer,” she protested.

“I’m the designated driver.”

“And I don’t want a beer before I learn how to dance.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling. “A beer might loosen you up.”

“How loose do I need to be?”

“For the Cotton Eye Joe? Not a lot. It’s an easy dance and a lot of fun. More fun with more people.”

“I’m nervous,” she admitted.

He reached out and touched her hand lightly. Sparks immediately zinged through her. “It’s not hard, I swear. Just watch them dance for a little while and you’ll start to feel the rhythm of it. Then I’ll show you the steps.”

The colas came in huge red plastic glasses, the appetizer in a paper-covered plastic basket. No frills here. She rather liked that. Frills would have seemed so out of place.

“I should have told you to wear smooth-soled shoes,” he remarked. “It would be easier.”

“Well, I don’t have to dance at all.”

His blue eyes laughed at her. “You’re not getting out of it.”

The place slowly filled up with people of all ages. From her limited experience of nightclubs, that surprised her. The few she had visited had seemed to be age-segregated, catering to younger people. This one had the whole range of ages from twenties to sixties or maybe older. She liked that.

As the floor sprouted more dancers, she found her courage. Not that she could have escaped. Linc reached for her hand and pulled her that way.

“It’s easy,” he said. “Really easy.” Keeping her at the edge of the floor, he said, “The first step is stomp-kick-triple step.”

She gaped at him, then watched as he did it several times. She could feel eyes on her, but when she glanced around people seemed to be busy with their own companions.

“Now you.”

She bit her lower lip and tried to imitate him. The music seemed to help, giving her the rhythm. She made a couple of mistakes, but in a relatively short time thought she had it down reasonably well.

Maybe so, because then he taught her the next part, the shuffle. “Wow,” she said finally, “that feels almost natural with the music.”

“The whole dance does,” he assured her. He slipped an arm around her waist. “Now let’s try it. This dance is done side-by-side.”

She’d already gathered that part. Feeling a little more confident, she let him guide her around the edge of the dance floor. With only a few missteps, she made it around the entire circumference. The song changed and they were off again, and pretty soon she stopped thinking about her feet and started thinking about the man whose arm so casually cradled her waist. Stealing a look at other couples, she realized that wasn’t a one-way street, so she slipped her arm around his waist.

Wow! It felt so good that she almost closed her eyes with pleasure. Holding him, being held, moving with the music, it all seemed to meld into one wonderful experience.

She was startled back to awareness as she felt an arm link with her free arm. She looked and saw another couple. The man smiled at her and danced alongside her.

Before she knew it, she was part of a line that was pivoting around the dance floor. Then everything shifted, and the whole line was moving straight across the floor, first forward and then backward.

Beneath the loud music, she heard herself laugh. Her head came up, she tossed her hair and grinned at Linc. He grinned back.

She had no idea how long she danced. The songs changed but she didn’t count the changes. She was having too much fun. At last, just as she started to feel parched, Linc eased them out of the line and guided her back to the table.

He held out her chair for her, saying, “You’re a natural.”

“It’s fun!”

Fresh soft drinks awaited them, and she drained half of hers in several chugs. He pulled his chair around so that he sat right beside her, rather than across from her.

“So where’s this rowdiness that had you concerned?” she asked.

“Later. A different crowd will start showing up, and the beer will flow faster. We’ll leave around then.”

Just then, without warning or invitation, a heavyset, very large man pulled a chair out and sat at their table. Cassie looked at him in astonishment, wondering if this was another local custom she didn’t yet know. She had the feeling she recognized him, but couldn’t place him.

“Howdy, Dave,” Linc said. “What’s up?”

Cassie started to relax as she realized Linc knew him. The relaxation didn’t last long.

“So this is the teacher who got the Hastings boy in trouble.”

She sensed Linc stiffening, and her own nervousness resurfaced, her stomach feeling almost as edgy as it had right before she’d stepped onto the dance floor the first time.

“I think you got that wrong, Dave,” Linc said. To Cassie it sounded as if his voice were edged in steel.

“So she’s not the teacher? Everyone says she is.”

“What you got wrong is who got who into trouble. The Hastings boy did that to himself.”

Dave scowled. “We got a championship to win, Coach. You know that.”

It was the first time Cassie had heard anyone call Linc “Coach” except for his team, and she wondered if that word had been chosen for a reason. Of course, in other schools the coaches had been called Coach by everyone. Not here, though, which was odd when she thought about it. Maybe Linc didn’t want to be addressed that way?

But her primary concern was Dave. His face was red, and she wondered if he’d had too much to drink. And how far this was going to go.

“I know all about the championship,” Linc said. “But the players also know they shouldn’t break school rules if they want to play the game. That hasn’t changed since your day, Dave.”

Dave’s expression darkened. “Back in my day, we didn’t have no zero tolerance. Kids do things. Kid things.”