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Tate’s deep, healing voice washed over her. His offer caught her off guard, instantly taking her mind off Jenna. She crinkled up her nose. “Oh, I get it. You really want to give them something to talk about don’t you?” she teased.
Tate grinned and rocked back on his cowboy boots. His eyes twinkled with mischief.
“I’ve never cared much for what people might say.” He leaned down, his smooth cheek brushing against hers as he whispered in her ear. “And the only thing they could say is that the Sheriff was dancing with the most beautiful woman in town.”
She felt her cheeks warming with the compliment. “Their tongues are already wagging,” she said after casting a quick glance around her. She held out her hand. “Why not?”
Her grabbed her by the hand and whisked her into his arms. His arms were around her waist and they were swaying to the upbeat tempo of Tug Matthews and his band. Cassidy could smell the cool crisp scent of his aftershave. She felt the raw power of his arms as they guided her across the floor. She wished she could capture this moment in a bottle and make it last forever.
When the band stopped for a break, Tate led her off the dance floor, his hand gently entwined with her own. She noticed a few smiles in their direction— her high school math teacher, Cullen Brand, Malachi Finley, Regina—and it made her almost as happy as being with Tate. Nobody was whispering or pointing at her. Nobody seemed put out by her presence at the gathering. A few people had even approached her and thanked her for working so hard on the event. Was it possible that her efforts to restore Main Street Church were helping her win redemption in the eyes of the townsfolk?
Tate took two glasses of sparkling cider from one of the servers and handed one to her.
“I think a toast is in order.” He held his glass up in the air. “It’s official. Tonight is a resounding success. Main Street Church will have more than enough money in the coffers for a new roof. A few months from now we can focus on restoring the steeple.”
Cassidy raised her glass and clinked glasses with Tate. “I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you, Tate, or your family for hosting this at the ranch. Your family really stepped up to support this event. I know that can’t have been easy.” Although Tate had never discussed his parents’ reaction to his offer to host the event at Horseshoe Bend Ranch, she could only imagine that there had been some tense moments and fiery discussions. However it had happened, the end result was the same. The gathering had been wildly successful.
“You’re quite welcome, but all we did was provide the venue,” Tate answered in a humble voice. “This all came about because of the congregation working together. I would never have had the imagination to come up with all this.” He spread his arms wide. “And without the community supporting it, all our efforts would have been in vain.”
“Main Street Church is important to so many people in this town. People need a place to come together, to gather under one roof as a community. There are so many people who draw their strength from being part of a congregation. As far as I’m concerned, that’s sacred.”
“You never gave up on this town, did you? Or on Holly?” His eyes sparkled with wonder. He reached out and caressed her cheek with his knuckles.
No, she’d never given up. Even in her darkest hours she’d never stopped hoping and dreaming and praying that one day she’d be able to be a part of this town she adored.
“I never gave up on you either,” she whispered. “I never could.”
His piercing blue eyes seemed to look through her, straight to her very soul. Tate leaned down and brushed a kiss against her forehead, his lips soft and gentle. She closed her eyes and savored that instant, managing to block out everything else going on around her. The kiss spoke to her—of forgiveness and hope and fresh starts. It reminded her of how she’d always felt in Tate’s arms—cherished. And if she lived to be a hundred she would never forget this moment, because it was the first time since she’d come back home that she began to hope for new beginnings.
Chapter Ten
“It’s time to change out of these party clothes,” Cassidy said as Tate led her inside the Lynch home and toward the first floor bathroom. “I need to head over to the kids tent and get started on the art activities.”
Although there was something Cinderella-like about Cassidy having to ditch he
r party duds for an artist’s smock, he knew she couldn’t have been more jazzed about working with the kids. It was a long-held dream of hers. It didn’t escape his notice that she was beaming with pride.
A tent had been set up behind the Lynches’ house for children and teenagers from the community. For a nominal sum Cassidy was providing an art lesson, allowing them to experiment with different mediums—water colors, pastels, colored pencils, oils. It was a win-win situation for everyone. If the kids were being entertained at the tent during the event, it increased the likelihood that people would attend the event. They wouldn’t have to worry about hiring babysitters or leaving the gathering early due to childcare issues. And it added additional revenue to the proceeds.
So far, tonight had been an evening full of goodwill and revelry. It was one of those nights you wanted to last forever, till all the twinkling stars had been stamped out of the pewter sky.
And he knew how important Cassidy’s role in this night had been. Her big heart. Her abiding faith. Her never-ending hope.
“Can I walk you over?” he asked, wanting to be in her presence as much as possible. The thought of not being with her made him ache inside. It was almost a physical pain that left him feeling rattled. What was happening to him?
Her mouth turned upward in a beguiling smile. “I’d like that, Tate. Just give me a few minutes to switch up my clothes.”
In five minutes flat she emerged from the bathroom—face scrubbed of makeup, hair swept up in a ponytail, her cute figure dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a plain white T-shirt. She was holding a smock in her hand.
He couldn’t help but laugh at her daring. “A white top? For painting with a bunch of kids?”
Cassidy chuckled as they made their way outside. “Hey, there’s a method to my madness. I like seeing all the paint and the colors on my shirt. It’s a reminder of the creativity and the passion that comes out when you’re creating artwork. It’ll be as if I’m capturing the joy of the moment on my clothing.” She shook her head. “I know that must sound silly.”
“It doesn’t sound silly at all,” he assured her. In fact, it sounded wonderful. He didn’t think he’d ever come across anyone who enjoyed their profession as much as she did. The way she felt about art, her excitement and desire to create, moved him deeply. It was said that everyone had a calling in life. Cassidy had tapped into hers as a teenager, and she’d been building on that foundation ever since. He couldn’t wait to see her in her element.
Just as they reached the entrance to the tent, Cassidy stopped in her tracks. She looked a bit pale. She clutched at his arm, her eyes wide with concern as she asked, “Tate! What if nobody brought their kids? I mean, what if...I’m not the most popular person in this town. What if nobody wanted me to teach art to their kids?”
He reached out and smoothed back Cassidy’s hair, wishing he was bold enough to place a kiss on her lips. Be patient, he cautioned himself. I don’t want to scare her away again.
