Chapter 19 #2
McKenna drops into a squat and I laugh so hard I can barely breathe. I try to squat with her. Everyone around us does the same, attempting to swing while we’re down here, but we all just look like waddling, drunken ducks who’ve lost the will to migrate.
“If you step on boots, just wave goodbye!”
“Who’s stepping on boots?” I ask McKenna.
She bursts into another peal of laughter.
We stand when Tater shouts. “Swing your partner, round and round!” and McKenna tucks her elbow in mine and starts skipping in a circle, swinging me with her.
“If you miss a step, just blame the sound.”
“Now switch your partner, do-si-do.” Tater’s calls are getting louder and faster.
I look around. Jamison from the hardware store reaches out for me. I let go of McKenna and lock elbows with him.
“Do-si-do, real fast, not slow!”
The music speeds up.
Everyone spins like we’re in an emergency do-si-do contest.
“Now switch again!”
We switch. Boots scuff. Hands miss. People start randomly colliding.
Yep, this has officially gone off the rails.
Someone spins into me.
Tater’s resorted to just shouting, “And switch! And switch! And switch!”
People are swapping partners so fast we’re like a live-action game of Twister set to bluegrass—all limbs, zero dignity, and surprisingly good banjo.
The town does not abort. We’re Waterford. Apparently, we love our traditions.
You can see it in the eyes of all the dancers as they double down.
“Switch!” I go flying from my last partner, my hand outstretched to whomever will take it.
I’m in full-bodied, helpless laughter at this point.
I fly to my left and my eyes lock on Cody’s. He’s laughing too, his eyes crinkled, his full lips spread wide in a smile.
We switch and I lose sight of him. Switch again. Switch again. I’m so dizzy I can’t even see straight and then—I’m spun right into his arms.
My breath catches. Deeply inconvenient, given that this is absolutely not the moment for feelings. Cody grasps for me awkwardly, one hand gripping my shoulder, the other palming my forehead.
I reach out to stop myself from slamming into him and he turns so we don’t hit heads. My finger just misses his eye, grazing his ear as I pull it away. My other hand lands somewhere between his hip and his butt.
We double over in laughter, wobbling as we try to regain our balance. Cody's as committed as Tater. He grabs my hand and spins me. We lock eyes. Then Tater shouts, “Switch your partner mighty quick. That's the way, all lickety split!” Cody shrugs and spins me away.
The music barrels on.
I’m flung back into the madness, laughing so hard I wonder if I should have worn adult diapers.
The music stutters to a halt. The entire room is filled with chaotic laughter and people catching their breath, or literally standing up from wherever they landed during a crazy spin.
Someone starts clapping and then applause breaks out. It’s completely undeserved.
“I don’t know what that was,” Mrs. Hellman says breathlessly, “but I survived it and I want a funnel cake.”
“I make a motion to outlaw whatever that just was!” Josh Jensen shouts.
“Put it on the town calendar,” the guy in the corner declares. “Never. Do. That. Again.”
Slowly, the dance floor breaks apart into smaller knots of people, and my friends and I gravitate back together.
McKenna walks over with a glass of tea for me.
She looks me dead in the eyes and shouts, “Joe! Joe! Joe!” and the sip I just took sprays out.
“I think I pulled a muscle,” Winona says, rubbing her thigh.
“I think I almost died!” Cass says.
Everyone’s relaying their experiences, talking over one another and laughing.
“That wasn’t any tradition I remember,” Patrick says.
“Maybe it should be now,” Dustin says with a big smile.
“I can just see the town hall discussion on this one,” Emberleigh says, her mouth quirking as she softly shakes her head.
I nod, my eyes scanning the barn for Cody.
The chatter of conversations fills the space around us. People stand in clusters. The band is on break and the speakers overhead play music in their place.
I spot Cody walking up the makeshift plywood steps onto the stage.
“Hey, everyone?” he says with a smile.
The room quiets to murmurs and then mostly silence.
“We’re so glad you came out tonight. On behalf of Waterford Fire, I want to thank our sponsors.” He runs down a list in his hand. Then he says, “I’ve been selected to call out the fifty-fifty winner.”
“Make it good, Cody!” someone shouts.
Another shouts, “Pick my ticket!”
My eyes are fixed on him. Everyone’s probably are, which gives me open permission to ogle him without appearing out of line. He’s so relaxed and comfortable in front of the crowd, a warm, welcoming smile on his face.
“Let’s see here,” he says, shaking the plastic pickle jar full of ticket stubs.
“I know it’s me!” Bucky Dennison shouts out. “It’s my lucky day!”
“You never win anything!” Elwood Price shouts back.
“Okay. Okay,” Cody says calmly. “Everyone check your numbers. I’ve got ticket number five-four-six-seven-six-seven!”
Jillian Nabors squeals. “It’s me! I won!” She turns to her husband and throws her arms around his neck and kisses him firmly on the lips. “We won!”
Cody smiles down at them. “Okay, Jillian. See Mayor Briggs and he’ll get you your winnings.”
Cody jumps off stage and my friends go back to talking.
I’m listening, but my eyes keep roving the crowd, following him as he sets the jar of losing tickets on a table and turns to join a group of men who are laughing about something.
I juggle the urge to stare at him with the awareness that I have to hide, so I flit between the conversation around me and subtly scanning the horizon for a Cody sighting.
A while later, he’s back on stage, announcing the pie contest winner with Dustin at his side.
He’s just as easygoing as always. My heart physically tugs to walk up to him when he jumps off stage.
I stop myself, forcing my attention on Cass who is asking Patrick if his dad is really trying to build an NFL training facility right outside Waterford.
“That’s his plan,” Patrick says.
I can’t tell if Patrick’s on board or not.
Cody’s moving through the crowd, mingling and smiling with various groups of people. Occasionally, his eyes find mine and he holds me with his gaze.
I shift and step closer to McKenna, attempting to keep an eye on Cody when he disappears behind a cluster of older couples.
The band resumes playing. Some people dance.
Others continue to mingle. A few grab their coats to leave with their younger children, hugging friends and neighbors on their way out.
The barn feels smaller, crowded and warm. I lose sight of Cody and return my attention to the group around me. Sarah Rollins brushes past me too closely, bumping me from behind. I catch myself and smile kindly over my shoulder when she apologizes.
I need a breath.
I look around at my friends. They’re all talking and laughing.
I touch McKenna on the forearm and say, “I’ll be right back.”
“Restroom?” she asks softly.
I nod. Then I weave through the sea of bodies and step outside through the back door into the cool air behind the barn.
Inhaling deeply, I blow out a slow breath.
I jump when the door opens a few seconds later.
Cody steps into the muted darkness, a soft smile on his face, but his brow is lightly furrowed.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
Cows low in the distance and the high-pitched, rhythmic peeping of frogs is the only other sound filling the murky darkness. The muted thump of music carries through the wood of the barn wall behind me.
Cody steps closer.
“I’m okay,” I say, looking up at him. “Just needed to catch my breath.”
His hand lifts from his side and I watch it as he raises it to cup my cheek.
It starts as an innocent gesture of concern, but then our eyes lock and he bends in and places a soft kiss on my lips.
His mouth lingers on mine, grounding me and lifting me.
His other hand grasps my waist. I grip his sleeve.
Cody pulls back before we can be spotted.
He smiles at me. I nod to reassure him.
“I’ll call you later,” he whispers.
And then he turns and walks back through the barn door, glancing over his shoulder once to smile at me.
When the door clatters shut behind him, I fall back onto the wall, the splintery wood catching on my skirt and snagging lightly.
My eyes close and I lift my fingers to my lips, sighing at the still-warm memory of Cody checking on me—kissing me with such tenderness.
The truth settles in as I stand here. We can hide our relationship on the ranches. A barn full of people who’ve known us forever is another story. And I’m sure this won’t be the last time we have to hide in plain sight.
The night winds down and I drive home. I’m in my pajamas, about to climb into bed when Cody calls.
“Hey,” his voice is low and easy, like he’s reached the end of his day—satisfied and sleepy.
“Hey,” I say.
“Did I wake you?”
“No. I’m just getting ready for bed.”
“What are you doing tomorrow?" he asks.
“I don’t have anything planned.”
“I’ve got a day off. Want to join me on an adventure?”
I crawl into bed, smiling to myself at the idea of an adventure with Cody.
“What do you have in mind?”
“I’ve got to head out of town to see about a horse. I thought we could make a day of it.”
“A whole day?”
“A whole day—in another town, where no one will know who we are.”
“Sounds amazing,” I say, not even trying to hide my excitement.
“Great. Let’s meet off Chigger Ridge. We can park your truck there and take mine.”
“Okay. That sounds great.”
“When can you get away? I’d like to leave around seven, but I can wait.”
“I’ll be there.”
I pull my phone away from my ear and set my alarm a half hour early so I can be sure to have time to help around the farm. When I’ve done my part, I’ll disappear and hope Jace doesn’t ask too many questions.
“Carli?”
“Yeah?”
“See you tomorrow.” There’s a smile in his voice.
My responding smile warms me like the first sip of hot cocoa, traveling down and settling low in my belly.
“See you tomorrow, Cody.”