Page 44 of Ethan

He led her through the crowd, stopping a few times when someone grabbed his arm to shake hands or say a word, and eventually they made it to the bar. He moved two stools together and held her hand while she climbed up, then settled in beside her and caught the eye of the bartender.

“Hey, Ethan. What can I get you?”

“Hi, Dixie. Whatever’s on tap.” He looked at Naomi.

“Just a Coke, please.”

“Coming right up.” Dixie disappeared down the bar.

Naomi looked out at the crowd. “I can’t get over how many people are in here.”

“Only bar for three towns. Add the tourists on top of that.” He leaned back against the bar. “It’s always like this on weekends.”

She looked toward the empty stage. “Does a band play?”

“They must be on break.”

She turned to him. “Will you dance with me when they come back?”

“Slow dances.”

She grinned. “That’s fine. But I’m getting in some line dances too.”

He picked up his beer when Dixie set it down. “And I’ll sit right here and watch.”

She laughed, then turned back to the crowd, and he watched her take it all in, happy and bright-eyed, completely at ease. He thought that she fit here like she’d always been here.

The band came back on with no warning, launching straight into a fast-driving number that hit the crowd like a starter pistol. Half the bar was on the dance floor before the first few lines were sung.

Naomi was off her stool before he could say a word.

She looked back at him over her shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He watched her move through the crowd and find a spot in the line that was forming near the stage. She fell into the steps like she’d known them her whole life, easy and natural, her yellow dress catching the light every time she turned.

He picked up his beer and settled in.

She was good. Really good. She moved with the same confidence she had on a horse, like her body knew exactly what it was doing and her mind was free to enjoy it. The man next to her said something and she laughed but kept dancing. Ethan told himself that the tightening in his jaw was nothing.

The song rolled into another fast one and she stayed out there, and he stayed at the bar and watched. When she finally came back her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright and she was breathing a little harder than usual.

She climbed back onto her stool and picked up her Coke.

“You’re very good at that,” he said.

“I grew up doing it.” She took a long sip. My grandmother loved to dance, so she taught me when I was a little girl.”

The band eased into a slower number a few songs later, one that cleared the line dancers off the floor and brought the couples on. Ethan set down his beer and stood.

She looked at him.

He held out his hand without saying anything.

She smiled and took it.

He led her onto the floor and turned to face her, his hand settling at her waist, the other holding hers against his chest. She stepped into him, closer than she had at the reception, and rested her head against his chest.