Dancing on Dew (7 page)

Mayor Richton took the stage with a megaphone in hand. “Attention everyone. If you brought a basket to auction off or plan to bid, please approach the stage now. We will begin in ten minutes.”

Jeremiah elbowed him. “Have your money ready? I hear the schoolteacher donated a basket.”

Facing his brother, he shot him a scathing glare. Whether it was a jab at the incident of his youth, or hinting to pursue Sissy, didn’t matter. Either one was enough to annoy him. “Watch it, or I’ll bid on Tallie’s and leave you out to eat alone.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Jeremiah wrapped an arm around his wife. “Besides, she’d never send me away, would you sweetheart?”

“Brothers.” Tallie sighed and rolled her eyes. “You are both welcome to share my basket.”

Although he had no intention of bidding on a basket, he followed his family. Whatever Jeremiah paid for Tallie’s, he would match that with a donation of his own. All funds raised went to the school to purchase supplies and books for the upcoming year.

The mayor announced the event’s official beginning. He held up a woven basket wrapped on the top half with medical gauze. Everyone watching laughed.

Doc Foster yelled out, “I’ll start the bid at twenty-five cents.”

“Thirty cents.” Rand McCade followed his bid with a hearty chuckle.

“I’ll cut to the chase and bid two dollars.” Doc Foster shot Rand a smug glance.

“Do I hear two dollars and five cents from anyone?”

No one else bid. Tradition made people bid on baskets they didn’t intend to win, just to needle their friends or up the cost and make the auction a huge success. However, two dollars was too high or a price to risk for the wrong basket.

“Flynn Foster, you are the winner of a fine basket that smells like it has a mighty delicious roast inside, made by your own Myrtle Foster.”

The crowd went wild with applause and whistles as the elderly couple made their way up the stage steps to claim their dinner. Never one to miss an opportunity for fun, Doc Foster planted a kiss on Myrtle in front of everyone, which sent the town folk into another roar. Myrtle blushed but beamed at her husband.

When everyone calmed down, Mayor Richton moved on to the next, and then another. The fourth basket, Joseph recognized as Sissy’s. It was decorated, but had an unmistakable hole on the bottom front corner.

Barry started the bid at fifty cents. Lucas Holden countered with fifty-five, much to everyone’s surprise. A few other single men joined in the bidding until it reached one dollar. The bid belonged to Barry, and green jealousy sluiced through Joseph’s veins.

“One dollar and fifty cents,” he called out, acting on impulse.

Across the way, Barry pinned him with an odd gaze. “Two dollars.”

“Five dollars.”

Men and women alike gasped at the hefty price.

“Six dollars.” Barry looked in his billfold, his twitching jaw belying nervousness.

Good, he doesn’t have much more money with him.
“Ten dollars.”

Everything went silent. Not a person spoke, nor did any bird sing. Never, in the entire history of Weatherton, had someone bid ten dollars for a basket.

No one offered a higher bid, and the mayor declared Joseph the winner of the basket.

Now that he felt everyone’s stares on him, and he thought about what he’d done, his stomach churned. He’d made a scene and bought himself an expensive meal with a woman who he doubted would be happy about her companion.

“Go ahead, now’s your time.” Jeremiah nudged him and gave a sympathetic smile. “We’ll take Gloria with us. Do what you know you know you need to do.”

All eyes focused alternately on him and Sissy as they made their way to the stage from separate sides. Her cheeks flamed and the glare she gave him burned hotter than the midday sun.

After climbing the steps one slow stride at a time, he pulled out the necessary bills and handed them over in exchange for his dinner. The basket was a hot coal in his hand, but there was little he could do now to save his dignity.

He’d made either the dumbest, or smartest, decision of his life.

Cicely’s gums hurt from the force of her clenched teeth. Propriety dictated that she share the prepared meal with Joseph. She offered Barry an apologetic expression that she hoped conveyed she was not a willing participant in Joseph’s outrageous winning bid.

So much for a pleasant afternoon
. She’d anticipated the day with great fervor and had expected Barry to ask for a deeper commitment. They’d spent many hours in each other’s company over the last several weeks, and he’d hinted yesterday to a formal, exclusive courtship.

Not that Barry would ask today, since Joseph had ruined their plans, but when he did, her answer would be yes. Barry was a solid man who would make a fine husband and, one day, father. In time, she would fall in love with him.

With a stiff back, she marched up the steps, and then to the center where the mayor stood with Joseph. The entire ordeal was utterly humiliating. Ten dollars for a basket dinner! Who ever heard of paying such a ridiculous amount?

That everyone’s eyes were trained on her and Joseph was bad enough, but in seconds, once their shock wore off, they would all begin whispering and rumors would fly. Goodness only knew what gossip would be circulated by the end of the day. She’d never been so embarrassed in her entire life, and that said a lot considering she’d once lost her stomach’s contents in front of the entire church.

Turning her head so no one but Joseph could see, she threw another glare his way. What had gotten into him and possessed him to do something so drastic? Her only consolation was that he appeared twice as miserable as she did if that were even possible.
Serves him right
.

Together they walked off the left side of the stage. Mayor Richton proceeded with the next basket and the crowd buzzed again. She couldn’t let herself think about what they were saying.

Joseph carried the basket, but kept a distance of several feet from her. “Where do you want to go?”

Away from you
. “Where ever.” Her shoulders rose in a flippant shrug, then she remembered his daughter and hope bloomed for a buffer between them. “Will Gloria be joining us?”

“No.” He didn’t elaborate, and walked a far distance from the crowd, past the field and to a secluded area.

His silence as they walked angered her. He had a lot of nerve humiliating her, taking precious time away from Barry, and then not saying a word.

Without asking if she found the spot suitable, he set the basket down and withdrew a thin sheet that he spread over the grass. He proceeded to unpack the basket, food she’d prepared especially for Barry. Thick slices of bacon with her special honey biscuits, potato salad sweetened with a hint of sugar, and triple berry pie. She even included a jar of freshly made lemonade.

When he finished setting out all the food, he stood upright. He started at her without making eye contact as though unsure what to say or do next.

She’d let him know—she had plenty to say. Putting one hand on her hip, she produced another glower. “Why did you bid on my basket?”

“I don’t know.” He twisted an arm behind his back.

“You’re many things, but you’ve never been a liar, Joseph Scott.” Her voice rose with each word. “Why did you embarrass me like that?”

“That wasn’t my intention.” A smidgen of contrition entered his voice.

“Answer my question.” The meanness in her tone shocked her, but she continued. “Barry’s a good man who treats me well, and you interfered with that by making a spectacle of this.” She waved a hand over the meal.

“Do you love him?”

His counter-inquiry caught her off guard. “That’s none of your business.”

“Maybe so, but it’s not a hard question to answer.” An unreadable emotion flashed in his eyes. “Tell me you love him, and I’ll leave now and send him here to share the afternoon with you.”

She swallowed hard. Pulled between confusion, honesty, and fury, she couldn’t stop the tears that sprung from flowing.

In an instant, Joseph stood in front of her, enveloping her in strong, comforting arms. “I’m sorry, Sissy, I never meant to make you cry.”

How many years had she dreamt of a moment like this? Too many. She leaned into him, taking what she’d wanted for years. The fabric of his shirt was rough against her cheek, but it soothed as only an old, familiar comfort could. She drew a breath, inhaling the scent of leather and nature that clung to him. Seven years had passed, but she’d never forgotten the way he smelled, and her heart jumped to realize it hadn’t changed.

He stroked her hair, stopping intermittently to twist and unwind strands around a finger. His breath caressed her cheek when he bent his head to whisper more apologies.

For the past, for today, she didn’t know. All she knew was a feeling of completeness that vacated her life when he’d left Weatherton. A feeling that, no matter how hard she tried, she’d never been able to replicate with Barry.

The thought was enough to dampen the tenderness of Joseph’s embrace. This moment was nothing more than a mirage in the romantic desert of her life. She tore away from him and put space between them.

“What’s going on, Joseph?” She blinked away the pool of tears, refusing to give him sight of them.

He started to reach out for her, but dropped his hands to his side. “I can’t stand the idea of Barry courting you. I know he’s the better man, but I saw him bidding for your basket, and jealously took over.”

She took a deep breath to keep from shouting. “This is all about jealousy then, nothing more?”

“No.” A deep sigh rumbled from his chest. “I’m fumbling this in the worst way.”

Seeing his frustration with himself play on his face softened her heart. “Just be honest, that’s all I ask.”

“I want us to have a second chance.”

“Why now?” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “You broke my heart once before, and it’s still hard to accept that you left me, but I pushed forward in life anyway. Then, I came to you last month and offered friendship, and you pushed me away.”

“I’m sorry about that day. From the bottom of my heart, I never wanted to hurt you.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them. “Before I tell you more, please know that I loved Clara. Even knowing how our life turned out, I wouldn’t go back in time and undo my marriage to her.” Pausing, his throat bopped when he swallowed. “Since I’ve returned to Weatherton, since I’ve come home, I’ve rediscovered who I am. In that process, I’ve moved beyond my grief and accepted my life as it is now, and the return to my roots. The man who I was in Chicago, that wasn’t the real me, if that makes sense.”

“It does.” Her eyes traveled the length of him, taking in his denim pants and chambray shirt. A black Stetson rested atop his head. She tried picturing him in the city, wearing a coat and vest every day, and a derby hat to replace the Stetson but couldn’t. “You belong outdoors, working the land and cattle. It’s who you are.”

His eyes lit with appreciation. “You get it. You understand me in a way that Clara never did. We had a good marriage, and despite our differences, we had a deep love and respect for each other. When Gloria came along that love grew even stronger. However, sometimes I wonder if I’d met her under different terms—if she’d just moved here instead of me to Chicago—would she have still loved me?”

She took a few seconds to compose her response. “I believe she would have. Love is love, no matter where it was found.”

He squeezed shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thank you.”

They still hadn’t accomplished much. They’d shared parts of their hearts and wounds, but they hadn’t gotten to the answers.

“What do you want a second chance of? Friendship? Romance?” She swallowed, not wanting to say the next part, but knowing she had to. “I can’t have a friendship with you, not without something more. We have too much of a history, and it wouldn’t work.”

“I agree, and that’s why I gave you the abrupt dismissal the day you came out.” Once again he reached for her, this time allowing his palm to settle on her cheek. “I was wrong, but the resurgence of feelings scared me and I didn’t handle it well.”

“No, you didn’t,” she couldn’t help saying.

“If you want to run and hide, I wouldn’t blame you. You’ve always been the better person.” His fingers moved, subtly rubbing her cheek. “Even that day in the mercantile, I knew you didn’t want to help, but you did anyway. Your heart’s always in the right place.”

“Why does it have to be so complicated?” Fresh tears sprung from confusion.

“I don’t know why our lives have played out like this, but maybe we had to be broken before we could be put back together, this time stronger.”

“Love shouldn’t be this difficult.”

“Is this love?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

Her hand covered his. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. Even after you left, I never stopped. When I heard you had married, I forced the feeling aside, but the only way to do that was to close my heart completely to love.”

“You deserve so much more.” His eyes, full of remorse, darkened.

“I deserve love. I want to love and be loved. One without the other isn’t fair to either person.” Emboldened, she met his gaze. “Did you really love me back then, Joseph? Because how could you have left me if you did?”

“I did love you, Sissy. I do love you.” His head lowered, nearing her lips.

She’d never wanted a kiss so badly, but she backed away, breaking all physical contact. Tucking her bottom lip under her top, she watched in dismay as the pain of rejection covered his face. “We can’t do this now, not yet.”

“There’s still hope?” He breathed in deeply and held the air in his lungs.

“Yes.” She looked in the direction they’d come from. “I need time to sort all of this in my mind, and before anything can happen with us, I have to speak with Barry. It wouldn’t be proper otherwise.”

“You’re right.” Flicking a glance to their food, he asked, “Would you like me to repack all this?”

“No, you paid a small fortune for it.” A smile succeeded in parting her lips. “But for the next hour, we eat and enjoy our meal. No talk of anything serious.”

His cheeks hinted to a pink shade. “I’m sorry for all the gossip that’s surely making its rounds as we speak.”

“We’ll survive.”

He arched a brow and looked at her with an odd expression.

Only then did she realize what she’d said. Not, “I’ll survive” but “
We’ll
survive”.

On the cusp of having all she’d ever wanted, the future both terrified and thrilled her.