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"Yeah, yeah." Dropping his chin, he moved woodenly down the steps and headed toward the barn. With every crunching step of his bootheel in the dirt, he winced. His mind was chock-full of images?times Savannah had looked at him with mistrust or not looked at him at all; times she'd almost come toward him and then stopped, her eyes wide with fear; times he'd wanted to reach out to her and been too damned afraid of his own darkness to even
try.
Please God, don't let me screw up.
Savannah paced back and forth, her small, boots clicking on the hard-packed dirt floor. Her stomach felt like a butterfly nest, all fluttery and full. She let out her breath in an anxious sigh. Calm down, Savannah. It ain't?isn't? that hard. Mama'II teach you, '?' everything'II be fine.
Tiny teeth nipped at her self-confidence. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. She was gonna make a fool of herself at the dance for sure.
"Savannah?"
She froze at the sound of her daddy's voice, then spun around. He was standing in the doorway, a broad-
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shouldered shadow against the midnight blue of the night behind him. A few stars twinkled in the sky beyond. There was only the barest light from the moon behind him, and yet even in the semidarkness, he was so handsome, he took her breath away.
"There's a rumor my little girl can't dance."
Yearning wrenched through Savannah. Tears lurched into her throat and stung her eyes. Her mouth wobbled dangerously. But she did her level best not to cry.
She wanted to say something that sounded grown-up, but all of a sudden she felt like a little kid, scared and lonely. She'd wanted him to notice her for so long, had waited and ached and prayed for it. But now that it was here, he was here, she didn't know what to do. Her knees felt like unset pudding.
She didn't move. She just stood there, her heart beating too fast and her throat as dry as toast, staring at her daddy. She was scared to death she'd burst into tears and he'd run away again. Standing still, she tried desperately to be a perfect little lady so he'd be proud of her.
"Come here, Vannah."
Vannah. The nickname almost did her in. She squeezed her eyes shut. Don't be a crybaby. Don't do somethin' stupid and make him leave again.
She tried to clear her mind, but it was impossible. Her head was full of the cherished, oft-remembered memories of long ago, from before she should even be able to remember, when she used to wake in the middle of the night to the sound of crying. It had happened so often back then. So often ...
When she woke up, she'd see him through the slats in her crib. He was standing there, reaching for her, whispering her name, Vannah, over and over again.
Somehow, even as a child, she'd sensed that he didn't want her to say anything. But once she hadn't been able to
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help herself. The word "Daddy?" had slipped from her small mouth.
He'd jerked his hand back and stumbled away from her. He'd never come back.
The memory burned in Savannah's chest, brought more stupid, stinging tears. She'd done something wrong that night. Something bad to make him run. Ever since, she'd tried to be so good, so quiet. But it didn't seem to matter.
Now he was giving her another chance, and she didn't want to do something wrong.
He held his hand out. "Come here, Vannah."
She stared at his outstretched hand until it became a flesh-colored smear. She blinked, swiped at the babyish tears.
"I'll wait here all night, Vannah," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere this time."
"I don't understand...." she said for lack of anything better to say, but it wasn't true, and she knew that even as the wor
ds slipped from her lips. She was afraid to understand, afraid she was wrong.
"It's simple, Vannah I just want to teach my little girl to
dance."
