Hope was already talking about wanting a girl, but Curtis wasn’t sure if he was ready to think about that. They had their hands full already.
“The second baby is three times as hard as the first,” his mother had told him last week. “Oddly, the third one is no trouble at all.”
Curtis wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“Where’s Zeke?”
“At Savannah’s. She’s watching a few of the kids for the last couple of hours so everyone can help with our visitors.
“Catch up with you at dinner?” She reached up for a kiss, and he met her halfway.
“Can’t wait.”
“What time is the first seating at the manor again?” Hope asked Riley as she approached the bunkhouse. “I want to stop and check on Zeke before I head up there.” They were offering people two different types of dining experiences: a rustic picnic near the bunkhouse and a formal sit-down dinner at the manor house. She and many of the other women, dressed in their Regency gowns, would help at the manor.
“Where’s your planner?” Riley joked. “Just kidding. It’s in forty-five minutes, so join us as fast as you can. I’m headed there now.”
“Be there in a minute.” Hope hurried to Savannah’s tiny house, but Raina, her best friend and the reason she was here at Base Camp to begin with, found her first.
“There you are! I held off bothering you while you were demonstrating the bison, but I couldn’t keep away any longer. I’m so excited I get to wear a gown and help tonight.”
Raina was almost an honorary member of Base Camp, she and her husband, Ben, came over so often from Bozeman to visit.
“I need to see if Zeke is okay.”
Raina followed her happily and made sure to get her share of cuddles from Zeke before they left for the manor.
“Curtis should be here soon to pick up Zeke,” Hope told Savannah.
“As soon as he does, I’ll join you all,” Savannah assured them.
They met with several other female residents of Base Camp as they walked to the manor, their gowns a bouquet of colors as they clustered together to get through the back door into the kitchen.
“All right, everyone,” Addison said. “We’re not taking orders, just bringing dishes to the tables for people to share around, as if they were with their families. Your job is to keep those dishes replenished, refill drinks and keep everyone happy. Got it? There’ll be a demonstration dance at eight.”
That was to cap off the evening. Then everyone would go home. Hope knew that dance would result in a flurry of calls tomorrow for people wanting to learn Regency dancing and spend a weekend at the bed-and-breakfast. The beauty of the Regency dances hooked everyone.
The next two hours were so busy she barely got a chance to breathe. She and the other women took turns eating a bite in the kitchen when they could, so no one fainted with hunger, then kept going. At the end of the meal, they cleared the tables.
A space was left at the center of the large room. When the men of Base Camp filed in, so did a quartet of classical musicians, who began to tune their instruments. Curtis found her.
“Where’s Zeke?” she asked.
“With Leslie and Byron in the front room. Don’t worry; all the children are being well cared for. Daisy’s there, too.”
“Good.” Byron and Leslie had become fixtures in their community. Byron worked on a variety of projects, and Hope had no doubt he’d go far in the film industry. Leslie might talk a lot, but she was an organizational wizard and was helping to take their food production to great heights.
“I remember the first time we did this,” he said as he led her to their positions for the first dance.
“It’s romantic every time. I never dreamed I’d find a man who’d actually dance with me.”
“I never dreamed I’d find a woman who’d want to keep dancing with me.”
“Well, I do. And that’s not going to stop.”
The music started, and they executed the first few steps of the complicated dance. Hope’s heart swelled as Curtis’s gaze lingered on hers, and she knew he was thinking about what they’d get up to later tonight, when everyone had gone home and Zeke was asleep.
She thought about it, too, letting her desire show in her eyes.
“We could duck out right now,” he said.
“No, we couldn’t. Be patient.” But she had to smile.
“I’ll do my best.”
“Don’t look now, but I think your father is flirting with Bev Regis,” Eve said to Anders as he led her through the steps of the dance.
Anders scanned the crowd as he continued in a circle. He’d done these Regency dances so many times now he could execute the steps in his sleep. There was his father near the door talking to a woman who’d joined the community just a few months ago. Bev was in her late forties, a striking woman with a sweep of dark hair, and his father… his father was actually smiling while they chatted.
Johannes looked ten years younger than he had two years ago when he’d been hassling Anders to come home and take over the family oil business. The last two years had changed a lot of things for them. It wasn’t the work of a day to transition Hansen Oil to Hansen Energy. In truth, the final transition plan would take nearly a decade to fully enact. Still, Anders was optimistic that they had arranged things in a way to make that transition smooth, without letting down their employees or shareholders, and that was replicable for other companies.
He had fielded some uncomfortable questions today from people on both sides of the energy spectrum. One man who worked the oil fields in northeast Montana was downright rude, but on the whole, people seemed interested, and a number of them had asked for
