“Did you not see Sheki Gabel arrive? She will not be wearing anything blue jean or casual,” Barbie said. “But I did bring a checkered scarf I can throw on later.”
“You are not competing with her, so relax,” Jolene said as she pointed to her own clothing. “So, are you implying my jean skirt, Christmas plaid top, red cowboy boots, and a felt-hat to match would not be eligible for one of her magazine covers?”
“Probably not, but it does look lovely on you. I hope you find yourself a grand cowboy to dance with all night long,” Barbie said earnestly. Jolene could not help but like her father’s barbie doll.
“Thank you. I shall be on the lookout.”
Soon after they arrived, the competition and tally-up of scores for the reigning couple began. The owners of Heritage Inn were two of the judges and an older lady donning a hat of equal flair to Sheki’s, was the third. Points had been documented from the entire senior year for scholastic and volunteer contributions to the high school. Only ten candidates remained in the running for the prestigious honor and the judges made the thirty-minute finale challenging for the contestants. On the sidelines, the crowd set a festive spirit of Christmas and the night was off to a great start.
Jolene didn’t acknowledge Craig when he slipped in beside her. Clapping and shouting began, as the bystanders divided down the middle to allow the new reining couple the first dance in the center of the brightly polished floor. In her hurry to get out of the way, Jolene bumped into Craig.
“Excuse me,” she said while scanning close by for the Gabel women; but Craig was alone. “Where are your lovely companions? I can’t imagine them wanting to miss out on a bit of the fun.”
“Fun means different things to different people,” Craig said. “They did get dressed, sort of, then laughed so hard at the ridiculousness of their attire, they decided to stay home and catch up. They don’t see each other often.”
“Did the Inn find a room for societies monarchy?” Jolene asked, her smile suggesting disapproval of such nonsense.
“None to be had. I cleaned mine out and gave it to Selene’s mother. I’m crashing on the sofa in the main room – a central mediator between two hot-heads.”
Jolene could not hold back the giggle, but soon straightened and stated dramatically, “Well, that’s terrible news! Thrown out of your own room and losing your dancing partner all in the same evening.”
“I was hoping you could help me out in that department. We used to dance well together,” Craig said.
Jolene sighed. This had all the makings of another disaster. “Craig, I don’t think…”
“I promise to be good,” he said. “We know all the line dancing steps in our sleep. We could rock this place.”
“I suppose one doesn’t need a partner for line dancing, so the arrangement sounds acceptable,” Jolene said. “Yes, I will stomp the same floor with you – if you like.”
“I like,” he said. “And there’s square dancing, too. I know you’re itching to learn that. I think the group switch up partners a lot, so, even for those, we wouldn’t be an official couple.” He took a deep breath, then exhaled. “Come on, Jolene. You’re more fun, anyway.”
“Have you told Selene that?”
“I’m planning to end it with her. The job in the city is almost complete and I want to come home.”
Jolene could not keep the joy from leaping in her face but quickly covered it. “I still work bizarre hours, Craig. We won’t be taking up where we left off.”
“That’s not a decision for tonight,” Craig said. He reached for her arm. “The youngsters are done and the band is winding up for a country rocker. Let’s just let the good times roll, okay? Can’t do no harm.”
Jolene had come to have fun, and the idea of entertaining a stranger with small talk did not sound appealing. Might as well stick with the familiar. “Let’s do it then, Craig Landers.”
Chapter 9
“We’re going to get this started slow and easy,” came the band leader’s voice.
She took the arm Craig extended, and he led her onto the dance floor. The eager participants lined up facing one another ready to do the steps in unison to a perfect waltz tune. A great warm-up for the evening of music ahead of them.
An hour later she plunked in a chair while Craig went for drinks. Her father came and sat next to her.
“Having a good time, daughter, with someone else’s boyfriend?”
“She’s not here, and we have a history of dancing together.”
“History is not future,” Trace said. “I see the way you look at each other, all in fun, but a keen eye can spot there’s something deeper.”
“Don’t you have a bride somewhere to talk to?” Jolene asked.
“Just trying to save you another heartbreak when the man picks up and goes home with the girl he came with.”
“He doesn’t love her.”
“I think I’ve used that line a time or two,” Trace said with a raised eyebrow.
“We were friends who thought it should develop into something else. We figured wrong, and we realize that now.” Jolene worked up her believability with every word, trying to convince herself as much as her father. “Besides, work will call us to different states next week, and Heritage Inn will be a distant memory.”
“Sounds very structured – too bad the heart doesn’t work like that,” Trace said.
“Craig is coming back. Don’t make a big deal about it,” Jolene said. “Honeymoons are for having fun. Go find your bride and leave your daughter alone.”
He walked away and nodded to Craig as they passed.
“I got the look,” he said
