A Little Bit Country: A Little Bit Country / Blackberry Summer

“I won’t be. She’s got some meeting with the women’s group from the Grange. They’re decorating for the dance tomorrow night.”

“Now that you mention it, I seem to remember Kate saying something about being busy tonight.” Without a pause he turned to Rorie. “You’ll be coming, I hope. The Grange is putting on a square dance—the biggest one of the year, and they usually do it up good.”

“Kate already invited me. I’ll be going with her,” Rorie explained, although she hadn’t the slightest idea how to square dance. Generally she enjoyed dancing, although she hadn’t gone for several months because Dan wasn’t keen on it.

“You could drive there with us if you wanted,” Skip offered. “I’d kinda like to walk in there with you on my arm. You’d cause quite a stir with the men, especially Luke Rivers—he’s the foreman at the Logan place. Most girls go all goo-goo-eyed over him.”

Clay’s spoon clanged loudly against the side of his glass dish and he murmured an apology.

“I’m sorry, Skip,” Rorie said gently. “I told Kate I’d drive over with her.”

“Darn,” Skip muttered.

The meal was completed in silence. Once, when Rorie happened to glance up, her eyes met Clay’s. Her heart felt as though it might hammer its way out of her chest. She was oppressively aware of the chemistry between them. It simmered in Rorie’s veins and she could tell that Clay felt everything she did. Throughout dinner, she’d been all too conscious of the swift stolen glances Clay had sent in her direction. She’d sent a few of her own, though she’d tried hard not to. But it was impossible to be in the same room with this man and not react to him.

A thousand times in the next couple of hours, Rorie told herself that everything would be fine as soon as she could leave. Life would return to normal then.

When the dishes were finished, Skip challenged her to a game of cribbage, and grateful for the escape Rorie accepted. Skip sat with his back to his brother, and every time Rorie played her hand, she found her eyes wandering across the room to where Clay sat reading. To all outward appearances, he was relaxed and comfortable, but she knew he felt as tense as she did. She knew he was equally aware of the electricity that sparked between them.

Rorie’s fingers shook as she counted out her cards.

“Fifteen eight,” Skip corrected. “You forgot two points.”

Her eyes fell to the extra ten, and she blinked. “I guess I did.”

Skip heaved a sigh. “I don’t think your mind’s on the game tonight.”

“I guess not,” she admitted wryly. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go up to bed.” She threw him an apologetic smile and reached for her coffee cup. Skip was right; her mind hadn’t been on the game at all. Instead, her thoughts had been on a man who owed his loyalties to another woman—a woman whose roots were intricately bound with his. A woman Rorie had liked and respected from the moment they met.

Feeling depressed, she bade the two men good-night and carried her cup to the kitchen. Dutifully, she rinsed it out and set it beside the sink, but when she turned around Clay was standing in the doorway, blocking her exit.

“Where’s Skip?” she asked a little breathlessly. Heat seemed to throb between them and she retreated a step in a futile effort to escape.

“He went upstairs.”

She blinked and faked a yawn. “I was headed in that direction myself.”

Clay buried one hand in his jeans pocket. “Do you know what happened tonight at dinner?”

Not finding her voice, Rorie shook her head.

“I was jealous,” he said from between clenched teeth. “You were laughing and joking with Skip and I wanted it to be me your eyes were shining for. Me. No one else.” He stopped abruptly and shook his head. “Jealous of a seventeen-year-old boy... I can’t believe it myself.”

Seven (#ulink_27584baa-cbeb-5cd3-bbe6-3b2ee32b2f74)

Rorie decided to wear a dress for her outing with Kate Logan. Although she rose early, both Skip and Clay had eaten breakfast and left the house by the time she came downstairs. Which was just as well, Rorie thought.

Mary stood at the stove, frying chunks of beef for a luncheon stew. “I spoke to Clay about your cooking dinner later this week. He says that’ll be fine if you’re still around, but the way he sees it, you’ll be on your way in a day or two.”

Rorie poured herself a cup of coffee. “I’ll be happy to do it if I’m here. Otherwise, I’m sure Kate Logan would be more than pleased.”

Mary turned to face her, mouth open as if to comment. Instead her eyes widened in appreciation. “My, my, you look pretty enough to hog-tie a man’s heart.”

“Thank you, Mary,” Rorie answered, grinning.

“I suppose you got yourself a sweetheart back there in San Francisco?” she asked, watching her closely. “A pretty girl like you is bound to attract plenty of men.”

Rorie paused to think about her answer. She briefly considered mentioning Dan, but decided against it. She’d planned this separation to gain a perspective on their relationship. And within hours of arriving at Elk Run, Rorie had found her answer. Dan would always be a special friend—but nothing more.

“The question shouldn’t require a week’s thought,” Mary grumbled, stirring the large pot of simmering beef.

“Sorry...I was mulling something over.”

“Then there is someone?”

She shook her head. “No.”

The answer didn’t seem to please Mary, because she frowned. “When did you say that fancy car of yours was going to be fixed?”

The abrupt question caught Rorie by surprise. Mary was openly concerned about the attraction between her and Clay. The housekeeper, who probably knew Clay as well as anyone did, clearly wasn’t blind to what had been happening—and just as clearly didn’t like it.

“The mechanic in Riversdale said it should be finished the day after tomorrow if all goes well.”

“Good!” Mary proclaimed with a fierce nod, then turned back to her stew.

Rorie couldn’t help smiling at the older woman’s astuteness. Mary was telling her that the sooner she was off Elk Run the better for everyone concerned. Rorie had to agree.

Kate Logan arrived promptly at ten. She wore tight-fitting jeans, red checkered western shirt and a white silk scarf knotted at her throat. Her long honey-colored hair was woven into thick braids that fell over her shoulders. At first glance, Kate looked closer to sixteen than the twenty-four Rorie knew her to be.

Kate greeted her with a warm smile. “Rorie, there wasn’t any need to wear something so nice. I should’ve told you to dress casually.”

Rorie’s shoulders slumped. “I brought along more dresses than jeans. Am I overdressed? I could change,” she said hesitantly.

“Oh, no, you look lovely...” But for the first time, Kate seemed worried. The doubt that played across her features would have been amusing if Rorie hadn’t already been suffering from such a potent bout of guilt. It was all too obvious that Kate viewed Rorie as a threat.

If Clay Franklin had chosen that moment to walk into the kitchen, Rorie would’ve called him every foul name she could think of. She was furious with him for doing this to her—and to Kate.

“I wear a lot of dresses because of my job at the library,” Rorie rushed to explain. “I also date quite a bit. I’ve been seeing someone—Dan Rogers—for a while now. In fact, it’s his car I was driving.”

“You’re dating someone special?” Kate asked, sounding relieved.

“Yes, Dan and I’ve been going out for several months.”

Mary coughed noisily and sent Rorie an accusing glare; Rorie ignored her. “Shouldn’t we be leaving?”

“Oh, sure, any time you’re ready.” When they were outside, Kate turned to face Rorie. Looking uncomfortable, she slipped her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “I’ve embarrassed you and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that I didn’t trust you and Clay.”

“There’s no need for an apology. I’m sure I wouldn’t react any differently if Clay was my fiancé.”