The door open, allowing the cool breeze to filter into the cabin, they could keep an eye on Isabell who had gone outside with Mick, the two sat on the porch, Isabell playing with Charity, and Mick gnawing on a ham bone. At the table, looking into her empty cup, Anora said, “All right, now might be a good time to ask me whatever it is you want to ask.”
“Nice evening, isn’t it?”
“Yes, very nice. But it’s time you stopped being evasive. We’ve talked about the heat, mosquitoes, the drought, to which I agree, August promises to be even hotter and drier, and if we don’t get some rain our gardens are going to go to dust. And the mosquitoes are hungry and huge. You asked for more bread, seconds on the chicken, honey for your biscuits, which I gave you. Give over, Mr. Reason, state your case. So far, I’m agreeable.”
Grinning, he leaned forward, reached out taking her hand. She flinched, then relaxed and nodded in surrender and smiled. “In a few days, the church will be finished. Paxton says Reverend Archer is due to arrive on the Willa Jane this week.”
Anora, head down, looking at his hand on hers said, “I imagine Paxton will be happy when the church is complete. He hasn’t been able to do much work on his hotel while getting the church up and ready for the reverend.”
Hank had started to rub his thumb back and forth on the underside of her palm, the motion sending pleasant sensations throughout her entire body.
“Hmm,” he said, his head tilted to the side, his gaze following the movement of his thumb. “The church became a priority, I think, once he married Melinda. She’s a strong, guiding force in Paxton’s house these days. Which, so I’ve been told, is an interesting topic of conversation at the Takenah saloon.”
Interested, brows raised, Anora said, “Good to know me and my ferry are no longer the only topic of interest.”
Shaking his head, he said, “The thing is, the townspeople plan on having a celebration to welcome the reverend and celebrate our new church and school. It’s a big step toward having a real town. There’s going to be music and dancing, a sack race, log sawing competition, ax throwing…it’s going to be a big day, with food…potluck, the works.”
She removed the hand he’d been playing with to her lap. “I still haven’t heard the question, have I? Did I miss it? All I hear, it’s going to be a busy day for me. I should do a good business. I think the Willa Jane will be here Wednesday, today’s Sunday.”
Leaning toward her, taking her folded hands in his, and bringing them up close to his lips, he said, “What I’m trying to say is, you’re a big part of this community, whether you want to be or not.”
She tried to recapture her hands, but he tightened his hold. “I know…I know you don’t want to go into town, and I really do understand, but you belong at this celebration. Will you come with Isabell and me? We want you to come.”
Tugging her hand away, she pushed her chair back and started to pick up the cups and plates, taking them to the dishpan on the counter behind her. Turning around, she said, “I can’t leave the ferry. Paxton’s waiting for me to make a mistake.”
“I knew you were going to say that. I talked to Paxton about this. He never meant for you to be shackled to the ferry day in and day out, with no relief. We can find someone to run the ferry for a few hours, for one day.”
Anora shook her head. “I don’t think so. Everyone will want to be at the celebration. Since…I…don’t wish to be at the celebration, it makes perfect sense to me—if not to you and Paxton—that I stay here to run it.”
Agitated, she slammed the tin plates into her dishpan. “You don’t know how infuriating it is to know you and Paxton, everyone, talks about me, discusses the details of my life. It all comes back to the very circumstances that landed me in this predicament in the first place. I don’t want to expose myself to more talk, more censure, more speculation.”
“Whoa now, I can see you’re all set to cut your nose off to spite your face. What I want to do is take you to a dance. I’m a man and I want to take a pretty lady to a dance.” His voice softened, his breath warm on her cheek. “I want to dance with you, Anora. I want to see you smile, take a bit of a breather, have some fun. You’ll be with me and Isabell the whole time.”
He pulled back and waved his arms above his head. “I don’t give a damn about the ferry, Paxton, the whole God Blessed town, or the people in it.” Leaning toward her, voice low and seductive, he said, “I only care about you. I want to be with you. I’d hoped you’d want to be with me too.”
Anora closed her eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. Telltale tears seeped out the corners of her eyes. She nodded “I do love to dance. It’s been a very long time. The thought of music, food, dancing, games, is enticing, I admit. Working every day, all day, is a grind. I’m starved for entertainment, laughter. I want to go with you, I really do,” she said her hand on his arm, “but I can’t. I have to stay and stick to business. Besides, no one wants me there. I’d be opening myself up for insult, don’t you see that?”
He shook his head at her. “I’ve been thinking about this, and it occurs to me, this thing is going to last all day and into the night. The Willa Jane won’t get in until noon or after. Most folks will come in before noon and camp over. The music and dancing probably won’t start until almost sundown. There wouldn’t be much traffic late in the afternoon. We could go over just before supper. There might not be any need to worry about the ferry at all.”
She shook her head in protest. “You’re grasping. It won’t work.”
Heartsore, God help her, she loved him. She loved the sound of his deep, resonating voice, his strong nose, the warm way his brown eyes twinkled when he looked at her. And his mouth, she liked to watch his lips move as he talked. She looked at his tan, rough, work-worn hands, his long fingers lacing together and unlacing. He did that a lot when formulating plans. He’d done so when he’d talked to her about Isabell going over to Melinda’s twice a week. And when he couldn’t decide what to do, if anything, about the unexpected blossoms on his new trees. She thought it a miracle to have him there to talk to.
Isabell had come to the opened door. She stood with her dolly clutched to her chest, the fingers on one hand crossed, held to her lips. “You gotta come with us, Anora. Papa wants to dance with you.”
Hank, his voice low, almost a whisper, spoke to her eyes and said, “Repeat after me, ‘A dance? Why, Mr. Reason, that sounds like fun. I’d be honored to come with you to the celebration.’”
Shaking her head at him, Anora laughed, a blush creeping all the way up to her ears. Inhaling, holding her breath, she gave him a nod, exhaled, and said, “A dance? Why, Mr. Reason, Hank, that sounds like fun. I’d love to come with you and Isabell to the celebration.”
∙•∙
Encouraged she’d replaced like for love and included Isabell in her vow, Hank grinned at her and gave her a buss on the cheek. “Good girl.”
He had plans and high hopes. He took her acceptance as a positive step in the right direction, a sign she had feelings for him. He thought he knew, but then, Anora could be exasperatingly stubborn, a born martyr—no, not born to martyrdom, trained by an expert—Ruben.