Leah sat down across from Kim. “All you have to do is send him a note tonight saying you need help. Lately Wes has been hovering over me, but he’ll leave the farm to go to you. You’re the only one. And while he’s gone I’ll go to the party. You can write another note for me to leave Wes saying I’ve gone to the dance. When he gets to your house he’ll find you and John gone, come back here, find the note, and probably come to the dance. Or maybe I’ll come home with someone else if he doesn’t want to come to the dance.”
“Do you think Wesley will beat you when you get home?” Kim asked seriously. Her eyes widened. “Do you think he’ll beat me?”
“No, of course not. I expect he’ll be mad, but I hope to show him that I won’t embarrass him in public. Nicole had a man teach me how to dance, and my clothes aren’t exactly what someone from the swamps would wear. Maybe when Wesley calms down he’ll realize I’m not something he has to hide away.”
“Oh Leah.” Kim put her head in her hands. “I’m just awfully afraid of doing this. Somehow it doesn’t seem right. Wesley doesn’t act as if he’s ashamed of you, in fact he seems to like you a lot. Couldn’t you write the notes yourself and then I could be innocent? I can say I knew nothing about anything. I’m good at lying. It’s easy for me.”
“I can’t read or write and if I have someone else deliver the messages, then they’d be involved, and besides there are only men around here anyway. They’d all take Wesley’s side. Please Kimberly. Please.”
There were tears in Kim’s eyes—tears of fear—when she nodded agreement.
As Wesley rode back to his farm he imagined all the things he was going to say to Kimberly the next time he saw her. What great crisis had happened to make her write that frantic note to him? No doubt John had dared to suggest she get off her spreading backside and do some work, and in anger she’d written to Wesley. And Wes, like a fool, had gone rushing after her, ready to rescue her, ready, if needed, to punch a good man like John Hammond in Kimberly’s defense.
Yet when Wes got there the house was empty and a hand said John and Kim had left for the dance an hour ago. All Wes could think of was that he’d left Leah alone in the house, unprotected except for the hands, and for all Wes knew, one of them was the Dancer. Right now he trusted no one. He’d even begun to suspect Bud and Cal. Yet here he’d left his wife alone, drooping about the house, feeling poorly, tired, overworked—and possibly the victim of a plot against her.
“Leah,” he called before he’d even dismounted. Slamming into the house he tore through it, shouting, “Leah!”
The emptiness and silence of the place made his heart pound. He ran outside to the outhouse, to the chicken coop, calling repeatedly for her.
“Where’s Leah?” he shot at one of the Macalister twins.
“I thought she was in the house.”
“Damn,” Wes cursed, running back into the house, and there he saw the paper on the table.
Dear Wesley,
Leah can’t read and even though she’s telling me what to write, I’m
going to tell you the truth. It wasn’t very nice of you to forbid Leah to go to the dance. Just before she got mad at you, her feelings were hurt. So, she made me write two notes for her so she could go. It wasn’t really my fault, Wesley. Please don’t be mad at me.
With love, Kimberly
P.S. Leah is really very nice and she isn’t at all some nasty thing from the swamp. Please don’t hit her.
“Hit her!” Wesley said with a gasp. “Oh Lord, you stupid women. I may beat you black-and-blue, Leah. That is, if you’re still alive,” he whispered.
Crumbling the note, he left the house in a few easy strides and mounted his horse, setting off for town at a gallop.
Leah was nervous by the time she reached the Macalister store where the dance was being held. It wasn’t exactly proper for her to arrive unescorted.
“Leah!”
Justin Stark was standing outside and now he hurried forward to help her from her horse.
“So where’s that husband of yours who keeps you locked away from us? He didn’t let you out of his sight, did he?”
“Wesley…had some work to do. If he finishes he’ll be along later.” As she spoke, Leah’s eyes went to the side.
Justin caught her arm and pulled it through his. “I won’t question that. It’s Wes’s loss and our gain. Come dance with us and let me show everyone I have the prettiest girl in the state on my arm.”
The inside of the store had been cleared and was lighted with what looked to be every lantern in town. Four fiddlers occupied one end of the big room and one side had a long, long table weighted down with food.
“I should have brought something,” Leah murmured.
“Your own pretty self is enough.”
“Leah!” Kimberly exclaimed from beside her. “You’re here. Did Wesley—?”