Give Me Tonight(64)

"It's not exactly swarming with them. Aren't you exaggerating a little?"

"Don't you use that tone with me, Adeline! I've been through horrors you know nothin' about. Just after I had Caroline, I begged your father to hire a nurse to help me look after her. I had to work all the time, cleaning, washing, and cooking, and I couldn't care for a baby every minute of the day. And he cer­tainly did get a nurse—a Tonkawa girl to take care of my firstborn—an Indian. Imagine, after all I'd heard of them stealing white children, and then to walk into the nursery and see one of them holding my baby! A woman of one of the most cruel and merciless tribes—"

"They're not all like that. Caro told me that some of the women in the county have some friends among the women of the Indian settlement near here. They talk and share meals—"

"Is that what you would like to do? Visit with those . . . creatures . . . rather than be among your own kind of people? I insisted you go to the academy in Virginia because I wanted you to see what it was like there, how much better than here."

"I don't see what's wrong with having friendships with them, or living here, or marrying a cowman. I like it better here than anywhere else. I'm not like you and Caro. I'll probably never move out of Texas. And I don't want to be sheltered."

May's eyes glimmered with unhappiness. "You've always chosen to learn things the hard way. I know how useless it is to talk to you when you've decided to be stubborn. But for your own sake, you must think about what I'm tellin' you."

"I will," Addie said uncomfortably, ducking her head and looking away, unable to repress a short sigh.

"I don't understand why you married Daddy, if he wasn't the kind of man you wanted."

May's expression was infused with bitterness. "Your father went east to find a wife and bring her back to Texas. He courted me in North Carolina. I didn't know what kind of life he'd be takin' me to, and didn't much care at the time. I thought love alone would be enough to make me happy. A woman in love makes foolish choices, Adeline. And I don't imagine you'll be any different from me in that respect."

As was common for any large social function, the crowd was served plenty of good liquor, which helped to fuel the general carefree spirit. Some of the men conglomerated in small groups and proceeded to slap each other on the back heartily, talking about their land and businesses with seeming carelessness. Others freely admired the women, who were beautiful in their brightly colored dresses and masses of ruffies.

The younger people, who had eagerly awaited the night of music and dancing, busied themselves making new acquaintances and behaving as they thought grown men and women should. The steps they knew were not fancy or intricate, and the music provided by the cow­boy band was not exactly elegant, but it was played with enthusiasm.

Addie found to her annoyance that she was keenly aware of Ben's absence, in spite of being claimed for every dance by a different person. What was wrong with her, that she couldn't keep herself from compar­ing Ben to every man she met and finding them all wanting? The most handsome ones here were unre­markable when compared to the memory of a man with black hair and vivid green eyes. No one else could stop her heart with his flashing smile, no one else dared to contradict and tease, and taunt as boldly as he did. She thought about him more while he was gone then she would have had he been there.

Occasionally Addie saw Jeff's face in the crowd among the lanterns and shadows, and she stayed as far away from him as possible. Occasionally he would ask someone to dance, but he kept his eyes on Addie as she was whirled around in time to the music. Her blue­green dress emphasized the whiteness of her skin and the rich dark blond of her hair, attracting many a mas­culine eye.

When Addie wasn't dancing, she stayed close to Russell, finding comfort in the fact that a silent truce seemed to have developed between them. She had no intention of apologizing for the argument they'd had, and neither did Russell, but they'd made an unspoken decision to go on as if it hadn't happened. So far they'd managed to recapture some of their former easiness with each other.

Well into the evening Addie's feet were aching from the fast round-dancing, and she was relieved when the music slowed down to a pace that the less spry mem­bers of the gathering could enjoy. She managed to wheedle Russell into a dance, pestering him with questions as they moved around the floor.

"As far as I can tell, no one's mentioned anything about the fences to you," she said, and Russell chuck­led, both annoyed and admiring of her daring in bring­ing up the subject.

"Not at a weddin' dance, honey."

"But that's just for tonight. What about after the wedding's over and we're all back home again?"

Russell shrugged, deciding not to answer. Addie took it to mean he expected trouble later on, and a chill of premonition stole over her. "Daddy, I've been thinking about some of the things Ben had to say about that barbed wire."

"What kinda things?" Although his voice was quiet, there was a menacing note in it. "Ben been talkin' against me behind my back, talkin' against my deci­sions?"

"No, no," she said hastily. "Just explaining to me. I didn't understand why everyone's so stirred up about your fences. It's because you've enclosed the water supply, isn't it? All the nearby grassland that the Dou­ble Bar owns isn't worth anything without the water rights. I didn't realize that before."