Chapter 19
Carli
They’d never danced a reel before,
but seemed to do okay.
~ Robert Eckstein
We have barn dances all the time around here, but The Barn Dance is an annual fundraiser to help supply the gear, training and equipment for our volunteer firefighters. Cody and his crew are at the heart of tonight’s gathering.
I’ve dressed up in a flouncy skirt that hits just above my knees, boots, and gauzy blouse under my long coat.
Music fills the rafters of the old barn on the outskirts of town.
Rumor has it the original owners of this property—the Harlan family—settled this land in the 1800s.
When old man Harlan passed with no heirs, the farm was sold at auction.
The town bought it up and now the property is used for functions like the annual Waterford Barn Dance.
The barn hums with voices and laughter as I step inside. I hang my coat on an already overflowing row of pegs, smiling and nodding my way inside. I’m making my way through the crowd, scanning for my friends—and Cody—when I see Emberleigh and Sydney waving from across the room.
I take a step in their direction. Then my gaze snags.
Cody’s standing at the fifty-fifty raffle table with Patrick and Dustin. He’s wearing the heck out of a plaid shirt tucked into denim, a bolo cinched at his neck, and those well-worn boots.
My breath stalls—my feet do too. The room goes soft at the edges.
Cody’s eyes snap over as if he can feel me staring.
A slow smile creeps across his face. My echoing blush climbs up my cheeks.
He tips his chin, and then Patrick and Dustin’s heads turn toward me.
I smile and wave as if it’s for all three of them and not the man who has held my heart in his hand for years.
I look away before any of them has a reason to suspect something.
“Hey!” I shout at my friends when I make it to them. Cass and Winona have joined the group. “Where are Daisy and McKenna?”
Winona points to a spot by the food tables. “Filling serving trays.”
The band is on a makeshift stage at the back of the massive barn—a few singers, two guitar players, a stand up bass player, and two other guys on the banjo and fiddle.
They’re playing a mix of country and bluegrass tunes.
People are dancing. Others stand around talking.
Kids dart around, playing chase and raiding the food tables.
My eyes keep drifting to Cody. I can’t help myself. And every time, he meets me with a soft smile or a wink.
“I don’t remember it being this packed last year,” Cass says.
“Maybe that’s because someone finally figured out how to heat a barn,” Winona says with a laugh.
“I think it’s the band,” Emberleigh says. “Dustin got them through a connection in Nashville.”
“They’re good,” I agree.
Some kids run past us, playing tag. We jump out of the way and laugh, watching them fly forward in zigzags.
“Feels like only a few years ago that was us,” McKenna says to me.
“Dad was just saying that the other day,” I tell her.
She loops her arm through mine. “Am I too young to ask where the time has gone?”
I nudge her with my hip. “Yes. You totally are.”
“I wish Westley could be here to experience this,” she says, a wistful note to her voice.
“He’ll be here soon enough.”
“Not soon enough,” she tells me with an exaggerated pout.
I know how she feels. Even in the same room, Cody feels miles away and our time together on the hillside seems like months ago.
The music shifts tempo and a familiar song fills the room.
“Boot Scootin’ Boogie!” Winona shouts.
Chairs slide back from the circular tables covered in checkered cloths and people move toward the dance floor.
“Let’s get out of the way before we get trampled,” Cass says.
June Bishop walks up to us, popping a weathered hand on her hip. “What are you girls doing?”
“Chatting,” Cass says. Want to join us?”
“I most definitely do not. This is a dance. When I was your age, I was on the dance floor from the moment the band started playing until they flicked the lights to send us home. You girls are young and … Well, some of you are single. Grab yourself a man and get out there and have fun. This isn’t a church foyer, ladies. ”
Cass stands next to June, wraps her arm around June’s waist and glances around the room.
“Pick some men out for us, June.”
“Oh dear,” I mutter to McKenna.
She just laughs.
June perks up and starts pointing at random single men in the room. When she points at Greyson, Cass says, “He’s too scary.”
“He’s sweet,” Emberleigh defends.
Dustin walks over. “Who’s sweet? Me?” He bends down and places a kiss on her cheek.
“You’re the sweetest,” Emberleigh says. “Dance with me before June tries to fix me up with someone else.”
Dustin wraps a protective arm around Emberleigh and drags her out onto the dance floor.
June looks straight at me. “If you’re standing still, you’re doing it wrong.”
I laugh. My eyes land on Cody. I quickly glance away, but not soon enough.
A woman is standing in front of him—Lacey, one of the teachers at Waterford Elementary.
She’s smiling up at him and he’s smiling back—not in a flirty way.
He’s being friendly. Cordial. Still, my body hums with an urge to walk over to him and wrap my arm around his waist. I force myself to watch the line dance.
When I glance back at Cody, he’s standing next to Greyson, not another woman in sight.
The song winds down and some of the people leave the dance floor, heading to the dispensers of lemonade and sweet tea.
Mayor Briggs approaches the mic, “Ladies and gents, we’ve got a treat for you. If I could have as many of you as possible take to the dance floor … ”
June looks over at me.
“Okay. Okay,” I say, stepping into the middle of the crowd.
“Tonight, we’re reviving a Waterford tradition,” Mayor Briggs says cheerfully.
A few people cheer and hoot. Some groan. A ripple of scattered laughter flutters through the crowd.
I get the feeling this is one of those traditions that should be left in the past.
Emberleigh and Dustin cross the dance floor. Only a few people stand between us. I smile over at them.
McKenna steps up next to me.
“I hope this isn’t what I think it is,” she whispers into my ear.
Mayor Briggs’ voice is extra animated. “We’ll be doing the Waterford Hurry-Up-and-Grab-Your-Partner Mixer!”
I shoot McKenna a confused look. She shrugs.
Mayor Briggs tells everyone, “So grab yourself a partner and join us on the dance floor.”
I extend my elbow to McKenna and she loops her arm through it. I glance around the room and my eyes land on Cody, his arm around Mrs. Holt.
“Would you look at my brother?” McKenna says. “I thought he and Lacey were talking earlier.”
“I think they were,” I say, my mouth feeling dry.
“They’d make a cute couple,” she says.
I’m saved from answering her because Mayor Briggs says, “And y’all are in for a big treat because Tater’s gonna call the dance for us.”
A round of cheers rises up, followed by one, “Lord help us,” from the back corner of the room.
“Does anyone know this dance?” I ask McKenna.
She shrugs. “We’ll just fake it ‘til we make it. Follow everyone else. It’ll be fine.”
Cass makes her way over to us. “What are we doing?”
Winona follows behind her. “It will make sense once it starts.”
It totally doesn’t.
Tater takes the mic. His voice is fast and high with just enough twang to make some words unintelligible.
“Well, y’all I’m gonna ’splain this once.
Then we’ll get right down to it. You’re gonna grab a partner, do-si-do, switch when called, and whatever you do, keep moving.
This dance is all about the hurry. And the switchin’. Well, that and the grabbin’. We good?”
“Start the music, Tater!” someone shouts from the back of the room. I think it’s the same guy that said, Lord, help us.
“Okay, Clancey. Keep yer pants on, would ya?” Tater answers the guy. “Are we ready?”
Heads nod, but every eye I meet holds a mirrored confusion. I’m not sure anyone’s ready, but they’re being good sports about it.
“Ya’ll remember this tradition,” Tater says as if we’re all familiar with it.
He asks one last time, "Is everyone ready?"
We aren’t.
The music starts anyway.
“Swing that partner, round and round!” Tater shouts.
People start swinging partners.
McKenna swings me and I’m already busting up. There’s no order—just a massive crowd swinging partners, not even in the same direction.
Tater calls out the steps we all should know. We don't.
“Side-eye and slide, shuffle on back. Tip your hat and give it a smack!”
People shuffle in random directions, giving side-eyes and tipping fake hats. Some even smack their partners on the rears or the arms.
“Heel and toe and shuffle you go!”
Tater’s voice ricochets through the barn. “Swing your partner left, now right!”
McKenna and I attempt to switch directions and lose our grip on one another. I bump the couple behind us and McKenna knocks into another.
“Sorry!” I shout, grasping for McKenna’s outstretched arm.
“Spin ’em once and hold on tight.”
McKenna shouts, “I’ve got to spin you! Hold on tight!”
I’m already laughing so hard tears are starting to come to my eyes.
“Swing ’em wide, then pull ’em near.”
She swings me out and I whack into a guy.
“Sorry!” I shout again.
“It’s okay!” he yells back over the music. McKenna’s already yanking my arm to pull me near.
Tater barrels on. “If you lose your hat, we don’t stop here.”
“What hat?” I shout over the music.
“Swing that partner, heel to toe!” Tater shouts.
I stare at McKenna and swing her while she tries to do a heel-toe move, she topples into me and I catch her. We bend over in hysterics.
Tater yells, “If you’re dizzy now, just fake it—go!”
“Bow and jump and shout out, ‘Joe!’”
No one questions it. The crowd bows and jumps, crashing into one another, and the barn fills with a deranged chant of “Joe! Joe! Joe!”
“Swing ’em low, swing ’em high!”