Lizzy turned her back to Stacey.
“Who put your hair in a bun?” Stacey worked at positioning the cap and tying it under Lizzy’s chin.
“Daddy.”
“He did a nice job on that.” She glanced at Cody. He mouthed, “Thank you.”
“All done. Okay, Jean, it’s your turn.”
Jean stepped up and turned her back to Stacey, who soon had the cap secured. “Okay, now let me look at you both.”
The girls grinned up at her. “Perfect. Now go dance as good as you look.”
Jean grabbed her by the waist and hugged Stacey so tightly she swayed. Cody placed a steadying hand in the small of her back. Trying to ignore the intimate sensation his touch generated, Stacey returned Jean’s affection. Lizzy joined them.
“Okay, girls. Let Stacey go. Fleur is trying to get you to come to her.”
They took off to where other girls stood dressed in similar clothing to them. She and Cody walked back to join his parents. This time he didn’t take her hand and she missed the contact. Too much.
When they sat down Cody’s mother said, “What was the problem?”
“I didn’t put their bonnets on like Stacey did.”
“I see.”
Stacey was afraid she might see too much.
“How did you make those bonnets anyway?” Cody asked.
“I cut the brim off a white hat I had, then cut it in two. That way I had the curve that was needed. Then I used sewing glue on the edges. I hand sewed shoe strings on to tie them with.”
“That’s impressive.” Cody’s mother gave her a smile of admiration.
Cody put his hand on her shoulder. “I know. I couldn’t have done it without her.”
His praise was nice to hear but wasn’t making it any easier for her to keep her resolve to remain detached.
The program started and soon the girls and boys were dancing across the stage. Cody sat beside her, close enough that she could feel his warmth. She was so aware of him she had difficulty paying attention to the children in Native American outfits, as English soldiers, and then Pilgrims. He squeezed her hand then let it go when Jean and Lizzy came on stage. They did a beautiful job with their dance.
As soon as the program was over Stacey made a production of checking her watch. For her own good, she needed to leave. “I’ve got to go.”
“Right now?” Cody’s disbelief filled his voice.
“I...uh...told Summer that I’d help her with something at two. So I have to go. Please tell the girls for me that they were great.”
“I bet they would rather hear that from you.” The dark disapproval on Cody’s face came close to snuffing out her determination.
“I’m sorry, but I really must go.” Why couldn’t he leave it alone? She looked at his parents, who were watching her closely, then back to Cody. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Brennan.” She threw those words over her shoulder as she hurried away. She was no longer counting the days but the hours until she could leave the island.
* * *
Sunday afternoon, after his parents and the girls had left, Cody made his way to Stacey’s cottage. He’d had enough. He had to see her. Put things right between them. Somehow.
He had no intention of bringing anyone disruptive into his world. Stacey was that type of person. The kind that unsettled people. She had certainly had that effect on him. Yet he still couldn’t stay away from her.
After Rachael he’d accepted he wasn’t a good judge of character. He couldn’t make that mistake again. Yet here he was on Stacey’s cottage doorstep. Even if there couldn’t be anything real between them, he still wanted her. She needed to know that. He had to make the hurt in her eyes go away. She wasn’t unaffected by his family. He’d seen Stacey’s pride and pleasure in Jean and Lizzy’s dancing. Some things she couldn’t hide.
He knocked. There was no sound. Knocked again. Was she at the festival? Something made him think she wasn’t. Maybe out for a walk? He didn’t want to do this at the clinic but if that was the only way, he’d take it. As he turned to leave, the door opened.
“Cody, what are you doing here?” Stacey asked around the door. “Is there an emergency?”
“Of sorts. We need to talk.”
“Why?” She pushed at her hair.
“I want to tell you I’m sorry.”
She looked away. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“You’re wrong. Do you mind if I come in? Or you could come out here.” For a second, he feared she was going to say no to either option. For some reason he needed her to understand how he’d been feeling.
“I’m not really dressed for company.”