A few days later, Matt sat beneath a tree while Sam held a small mirror in front of him. Matt carefully scraped the bristly beard off his chin. He’d started growing whiskers when he was fifteen. The last year or so, they’d actually started to thicken. Sam didn’t even have peach fuzz yet. He wondered if the boy was as eager to have hair on his face as Matt had been.
“What do you think, Sam? Think I got enough here for a decent mustache?” Sucking his upper lip into his mouth, he studied the growth above his lip. He was actually beginning to enjoy being friends with Sam. The kid hung onto every word Matt said as though he’d invented it.
He lifted his gaze above his reflection and watched as twin spots of color appeared on Sam’s cheeks. Until he’d met Sam, Matt wasn’t sure that he’d ever seen a fella blush.
“What do you think?” he asked again. “Honestly now. No matter what you say, it won’t hurt my feelings.”
“I think you look better without the mustache.”
Matt angled his face and returned his gaze to the mirror. “I think you’re right.”
He stretched his upper lip taut and brushed some lathered soap over it. With the straight razor, he scraped away the remaining whiskers. Wouldn’t do to have any nicks tonight.
When he was finished, he looked with satisfaction at his reflection. He combed his fingers through his hair. “You did a fine job trimming my hair. Sure you don’t want me to cut yours?”
“I’m sure,” Sam said hastily.
Grinning, Matt reached into his bag of supplies. He poured some Bay Rum cologne into his palm before patting it over his cheeks and chin. “Want some?” he asked Sam.
Sam shook his head. The boy actually looked frightened.
“Sam, everything will be all right tonight,” he assured him.
“I really don’t want to go, Matt.”
Matt leaned forward and planted his elbows on his thighs. “Look, Sam, it’s not every day that we run across a town that invites us to a barn dance. Another week or so and we’re going to be at the Red River. No towns on the other side for miles and miles. A cowboy has to take his fun where he can.”
“But I feel bad about going.”
“Jake put everyone’s name in a hat,” he reminded Sam. “He drew out the six who have to stay behind and herd cattle.”
“It doesn’t seem fair.”
“But that’s the way it’s always done. The cattle come first. A cowboy knows that when he signs up. We can’t leave the cows on their own. Somebody has to watch them. Drawing names out of a hat in order to determine who stays behind is the best way,” he explained patiently.
He’d already explained it once when Jake had first come into camp and announced that they had the invite. Matt couldn’t understand why Sam was so opposed to going out and having a good time, especially when there were bound to be a few gals in attendance. Matt might prefer not to be friends with the men he worked with, but he had no qualms at all about becoming friends with a young lady or two.
“But I don’t want to go,” Sam insisted.
“If you stay behind, one of those six men will want to go to the dance in your place. We’d have to have another drawing. I don’t think that would sit well with Jake.”
In truth, he didn’t think Jake would care. His only fear was that if Sam didn’t go, Matt would be ordered to stay behind. He was in the mood for some dancing, and he wanted Sam to have some fun. The boy didn’t seem to know much about fun. He never took a dip in the river, since he couldn’t swim. He seldom played cards, because he didn’t like the thought of losing any hard-earned money. He never played pranks on the other cowboys. As far as Matt could see, he was as serious as they came.
But the boy had dreams—dreams of all the things he could purchase with the money he’d earn at the end of the drive. And Matt certainly couldn’t complain about how quickly the kid learned a new task. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever known a fella to catch on to herding cattle with the ability that Sam did.
“Come on, Sam. Jake took two cows over to them earlier so we’ll have lots of beef to eat tonight. Some farmer’s wife is bound to bake an apple pie or two. You can’t turn away from the chance to eat a slice of fresh apple pie. Besides, there’s probably going to be several farmers’ daughters in attendance. Cookie is taking his fiddle, so we’ll have music and dancing. It’ll be fun.”
But Sam took to studying his gloves as though he’d never seen them before. Matt had given him the gloves, and they’d practically swallowed Sam’s small hands. How did a boy get such dainty-looking hands? Matt figured they were an embarrassment to him. Sam had quickly borrowed needle and thread from Cookie and taken in the seams so the gloves fit better. He wondered if Sam was even fourteen yet. He sure had a hard time believing he was anywhere close to being sixteen.
“I don’t know any of these people,” Sam muttered.
“You know me. Slim, Squirrel, Jeb.” Poor Jed. His name had been pulled out of the hat. Matt had a feeling that Jake had rigged the drawing so one of the twins would have to stay behind. The last night of round-up, the boys had a wild time pretending to be each other. “Come on, Sam, this might be our last chance to have some fun for a while.”
Sam hesitated, and Matt decided to play his final card. With a deep sigh, he sat back against the tree. “All right. You win. We won’t go.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “What do you mean we? You can go without me.”
“Nah, I can’t. Jake said you have to stay as close to me as my shadow. So I figure if you don’t want to go, then I need to stay behind as well so you can obey his order.” He felt a twinge of guilt when he saw the disappointment cross Sam’s face. He couldn’t understand Sam’s reluctance to go, but he was fairly certain if he could just get Sam to the dance, he’d enjoy himself.
“Oh, all right. I’ll go,” Sam said petulantly.
“You’ll be glad, Sam. I promise you’re gonna have the best time of your life.”
Sam was having the worst time of her life.
Standing within the shadows of a corner in the barn, she watched all the goings-on, trying to memorize the various aspects of the night so she could share them with Mary Margaret.
The beef, beans, and pies had tasted delicious. They’d reminded her of home and made her a trifle homesick.
The fiddle players struck up a lively tune as soon as they finished a slower melody. Fast. Slow. Fast. Slow. As much as she tried to prevent it, her foot tapped to the beat of the music.
The people were friendly. The young ladies, much to her annoyance, were especially so.
For someone who had claimed that he didn’t want to make friends, Matt sure wasn’t heeding his own advice tonight. He was getting to be best friends with several of the ladies. He also seemed to be one smooth dancer.
From the moment that the music had started, he hadn’t missed a single dance. Girls were batting their eyelashes at him and smiling with their lips pulled back so far that Sam wondered if they wanted to make sure he knew they possessed all their teeth.
She didn’t mean to have unkind thoughts. It was just that watching all that flirting made her downright miserable. Dressed in her boy’s clothing, Sam had never felt so dowdy or longed so intensely for a dress.
She hated herself for envying the girls’ dresses and their long hair. Hair that flowed down their backs or was swept on top of their heads. She loathed seeing the way that Matt smiled at all the girls, as though each one was special.
His blue eyes held a magical warmth, a warmth he’d never bestowed upon her. But why would he? In his eyes, she was a boy. He had no idea that he’d begun to wander through her dreams.
The music stopped and she watched as he walked his most recent partner to the table and ladled some lemonade into a glass for her. The girl gave him a flirtatious smile. Matt flashed her a returning grin as though they were sharing something special. Sam hated watching, but she couldn’t make herself look away.
What she wouldn’t give for Matt to look at her like that.
“Hey, Sam,” Squirrel said as he joined her and leaned against a beam. “How come you ain’t dancin’?”
Since her snipe-hunting expedition, the other hands had been more accepting of her. She supposed it was as they’d told her—a rite of passage. Something she’d needed to do in order to belong.
“Don’t want to dance.” Which wasn’t exactly true. She did want to dance—but she wanted to dance with Matt, and the only way that would happen would be if she revealed her secret. Her experience as a trail hand would come to an abrupt halt here and now if she did that.
“Cookie can sure make that fiddle talk, can’t he?” Squirrel asked.
“Yep.”
“I like the fast dances myself. Think Matt likes the slow ones.”
“Appears so,” she said curtly.
The next tune started up. She saw the girl set her glass aside. Matt took her hand and led her back to the dance area. Sam didn’t know why she had to feel so sad. Matt was having a good time. She should be happy for him.
“The girls surely do seem to favor Matt,” Squirrel said.
They surely did. She heaved a sigh. “How long do you think we’re staying here?”
“’Till Boss says it’s time to go. Some widow has taken a fancy to him, though, so it might be a while.”
She wondered if she could find her way back to the herd by herself. There were no landmarks to speak of and she was unfamiliar with the area. She didn’t want to risk getting lost and losing her chance to get that money.
“I’m gonna go get something else to eat. Wanna come?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nope. But thanks, Squirrel.” She angled her head thoughtfully. “What’s your real name, anyway?”
“You’ll laugh.”
She grinned. “No, I won’t.”
“Rupert.” He shook his head. “Don’t know what my ma was thinking.”
“She was probably thinking that she loved you.”
He grinned. “Reckon. Sure you don’t want to come and eat? In one of the stalls, folks is bobbin’ for apples. Thought I might give that a go.”
She patted her stomach. “I’m full, but thanks for the invite.”
He wandered away. She slipped farther into the shadowed corner and searched the dance area until she spotted Matt again.
Incredibly handsome, he held the girl as though she was a precious gift.
Listening closely, Sam allowed more than the music to seep inside her. She allowed her imagination in, giving it free rein.
She imagined she was that girl, encircled by Matt’s strong arms. The flames from the lanterns flickered around her and Matt.
She was no longer dressed in britches. She was wearing a new dress, sewn from blue calico. She wasn’t wearing boots. She was wearing black shoes buttoned up to her calf. And her hair wasn’t curling over the top of her head. It was cascading down her back to her waist, brushed to a glistening sheen.
And Matt.
He was looking at her as though she were the only girl in the barn with whom he wanted to waltz. Their steps began to slow. In her mind, he drew her closer and lowered his mouth to hers…
The music stopped playing, and she snapped out of her reverie. With disappointment reeling through her, she watched as he walked out of the barn with his arm around the girl. She didn’t want to think about what they might be doing outside.
Or how badly she wanted him to be doing it with her.
For pity’s sake! What was wrong with her?
Several minutes later she saw Matt come back into the barn. The girl sashayed away from him. His hair looked as though she’d repeatedly combed her fingers through it. It hurt Sam too much to think about it.
Matt began searching the barn. Suddenly his eyes lit upon her and he strode toward her.
Her heart began pounding and her palms grew damp. He looked so incredibly handsome tonight with his clean-shaven face, his washed and neatly trimmed hair. She had done a good job cutting his hair so she knew exactly what it had felt like when that brazen hussy had run her fingers through it outside.
Like all the men, he’d bathed in the river and brought out a fresh set of clothes.
“Why are you hiding over here, Sam?” he asked.
Because she was terrified that she might do or say something that would give her away. “I’m just not comfortable here, Matt. I really want to go back to the herd.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand. Everyone is so nice.”
“Especially the girls, right?” She wished she’d bitten off her tongue before she’d said that.
He grinned broadly. “Yeah, they are. You should give talking to one of them a try.”
“So I can make a fool out of myself like you’re doing? You’re going to wear out the soles of your boots with all that dancin’.”
“Sam, I don’t understand what’s bothering you.”
She didn’t either. She only knew that she didn’t like seeing him talking to, smiling at, or dancing with other girls. “Nothing is bothering me that can’t be fixed by leaving.”
Matt leaned close, and his Bay Rum scent wafted around her. “There are a couple here who are real free with their kisses. You ought to take a short walk with one of them.”
“No, thanks. When I kiss someone, it’s gonna be because that someone is special.” She brushed past him. She didn’t want to hear about all the kisses he was bestowing upon the girls here but would never bestow upon her.
She headed out of the barn, into the night. Matt probably thought she was loco, but she hadn’t wanted to come here anyway. Her first dance…her very first dance, and she was here pretending she was a boy. She was watching the young men dance with the girls, flirt with them, talk with them.
She had never experienced any of those exciting, exhilarating things. She wasn’t only jealous of Matt, she was jealous of every girl who hadn’t had to cut her hair or put on her brother’s old clothes.
She came to a stop beside the corral and gave herself a mental shake. No one had forced her to chop off her hair. She’d wanted to do it. And wearing Nate’s clothes wasn’t that bad. They afforded her more freedom. She actually liked them when she wasn’t at a dance.
She stepped onto the first railing of the fence and folded her arms across the top. All their horses were stirring about inside the enclosure. Hopefully Jake would call an end to all the fun and they would head back to camp soon.
“Sam?”
She squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of Matt’s concerned voice. “Matt, just ignore me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.”
Opening her eyes, she turned her face toward him. Standing on the rung, she found herself at eye-level with him. “Go back in and have some fun.”
“I can’t do that, Sam. Not when you’re having such a miserable time.”
“Matt, for tonight, just forget Jake’s orders. Forget I’m your responsibility,” she told him.
“I might forget all that, Sam, but I can’t forget that you’re becoming my friend. And I’ve figured out what’s bothering you,” he said.
“Matt, you can’t know,” she said honestly.
“But I do. You’ve never courted a girl, have you?” he asked quietly.
She turned her attention back to the horses. “Matt—”
“Have you?” he insisted.
“No.” That much, at least, was the truth.
“I remember how nervous I was the first time I danced with a girl. You just have to realize that you’re doing the girl a favor by dancing with her.”
Sam looked at him and narrowed her eyes. “Maybe she’s doing you one by dancing with you.”
He grinned in the moonlight. “You’ll get no argument from me on that. And when it comes to kissing—”
“I’m definitely not ready for kissing,” she blurted out.
He chuckled low. “All right, Sam. Just take it slow. If you don’t want to dance, just find a girl to talk to.”
“Maybe I will,” she said, knowing good and well she wouldn’t.
“I’m going to head back inside, then, find me a gal to twirl around the floor.” He ruffled Sam’s hair. “Honestly, Sam, you ought to give dancing a try. Girls are soft and they smell so good. Once you get to talking to them, it’s not that hard to move on to dancing and then kissing.”
She watched him walk off, then she leaned against the barn. She didn’t want to dance with a girl. For that matter, she didn’t want to dance with another fella, either. She just wanted to dance with Matt.
She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to hold all the feelings deep inside her. She was afraid to give them a name, to contemplate them too much.
She was terrified that she was falling in love with him.
And he’d never return that love. He thought Sam was a boy. And if he ever found out that Sam was a girl…he wouldn’t love her then, either. How could he love someone who had deceived him?