Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Caleb
I entered the white barn (as opposed to the red one, which held animals) at seven that evening to find that it wasn’t really a barn at all but rather a large event space complete with big wooden beams, glossy wood floors, and tables lining the sides for tonight’s square dance. No animals in sight. Unless you counted the guys, who were hanging around at the bar, drinking beers—no doubt quelling their nerves about square-dancing.
The place was crowded with people that I heard later were neighbors and avid square dancers from near and far. On a stage in the corner, musicians were warming up and adjusting mics. Just then, Sam walked in and spotted me. She was wearing jeans, a white T-shirt, and a red-and-white bandanna.
Gabe was suddenly at my side, following my gaze to the doorway. “She’s looking good tonight,” he said, nudging me with his elbow.
“What are you, switching teams?” I asked, ribbing him back.
“Not on your life.” He gave me an assessing look. “I just want to make sure you don’t miss the right gal.”
I didn’t have to respond to that, because Jason walked in just then, shook my hand and exchanged greetings. As he went to stand next to Gabe, his gaze trailed to the door too. “Sam’s looking hot tonight,” he said.
I shook my head. “There are way too many matchmakers here this weekend.”
Gabe grinned. “I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t be standing here talking to us.” He gave me a gentle push. “Get to work now. Your lady love awaits. Shoo, shoo!”
“See you in a few,” I said, happy to leave them. But I was sure they’d be pleased with what I did—I met Sam at the door.
“Cute scarf,” I said, but that wasn’t really what I was thinking. The guys weren’t wrong. The woman was stunning in an unfussy way that she didn’t even realize. A natural beauty is what my mom would’ve called her. I finally understood what that meant.
“Your sister made me wear it,” she said, flapping the bandanna end. “She said she wanted me to look more ‘square-dancy,’ whatever that is.”
“Well, I’d say you look very square-dancy.” And kissable , is what popped into my head. “Thanks for talking with Lilly on my behalf.”
“You’re not angry?”
“No. I appreciate what you did.”
She paused. “I hope things go well with you two. And if you want, we can talk about the hike tomorrow before breakfast. I’m happy to talk you up more and give you a feel for what she’s thinking.”
I wanted to tell her that I was pretty sure that I didn’t want that anymore, but what could I say? She would only think that I was a fool, flipping my attention from Lilly to someone else—i.e., her—so easily. I wouldn’t trust someone like that either. So I simply left it at “Sure. Thanks. Great idea.” Then I said, “So, what’s my strategy for tonight, matchmaker?”
“Easy,” she said with a shrug and a smile. “Dance with her.”
“I’ve never square-danced before.”
“Neither have I.” She looked around at the band—two fiddlers, a guitarist, a banjoist, and a guy on a mandolin, all poised to play. “But I’m getting excited.”
She looked excited, not reluctant, ready for a new challenge. The caller, a man with a gray beard and a gray-and-white checked shirt, tapped his foot and spoke into a microphone, telling everyone to break into groups of eight.
Someone grabbed my elbow. Brax. He’d rounded everyone up, and they were all standing nearby. “We’ve got our group, right?” Gabe and Jason joined an adjoining group, so ours would consist of Ani and Tyler, Mia and Brax, Lilly and me, Sam and… Quinn. Dammit . There he was, in blue jeans and a blue denim shirt, already sidling up next to Sam. Mia stood next to Sam in what I’d call a protective stance, but even she had to eventually join Brax as all of us couples started to line up opposite each other in a square. I had to hold myself back from intervening. I’d even start with “Hey, buddy, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to wear denim-on-denim?” But in the end, what could I do? Nothing but watch it play out.
“Where’s Lilly?” Brax asked, looking around the crowd.
Just then Lilly ran into the barn, a little breathless. Or maybe I should say sashayed, because she skipped in a lively way and waved and nodded to people on the way in like she was going down a red carpet instead of entering a barn. She wore a black skirt that swirled around her knees, red boots, a cute plaid shirt, and bright red lipstick to match. My instincts told me from experience that she was late because it had taken her a looong time to get ready.
The caller taught us all the basic moves—do-si-do, swing, promenade, allemande. Through the lessons, Tyler’s eyes were puffy and his nose was running, a consequence of the forgotten allergy medicine, no doubt. But he kept sneezing and blowing his nose, and absolutely no one wanted to stand by him and therefore have to hold his hand. Finally, Ani disappeared and came back with a giant bottle of hand sanitizer and made him use it.
And that’s how the night began. I should’ve known it would be downhill from the Purell.
Lilly agreed to be my partner, except the first thing she said was, “Chambray button-down and jeans? Not very original.” Maybe not, but I thought I’d cleaned up pretty nicely.
I don’t usually get nervous, but I wasn’t a great dancer. I figured I’d be okay as long as I could learn the moves, but during the first promenade, where I had to hold her hand behind her back and another one in the front, I tripped up a little.
“Cay, you’re so clumsy,” she said loud enough that Sam turned her head. “It’s your right foot first.”
By the time we ran through the Texas Star a few times, I started to feel a lot better. When we all finally got it, we cheered.
A little while later, we got a break, so we all sat down at a round table and ordered some drinks.
“I’m so happy we’re all together,” Ani said, raising her beer. “I can’t tell you what you all being here means to me. Even if a farm weekend is out of your comfort zones.”
“Nothing’s out of our comfort zone with you, babe,” Gabe said. “We’re thrilled to be here.”
Tyler looked like he had to pass gas.
“Thanks for letting me crash,” Jason said to Ani.
“Love you, Jase,” she said.
“Love you too.” Jason lifted his glass. “To the happy couple.”
“To being together.” Mia raised her glass, and we all followed suit.
Marin and her son walked in, Tater holding the little yellow lab in his arms. On seeing all the people, the pup wiggled out of his grasp and bounded straight over to our table. To be fair, we were right by the door, so that explained that. Unfortunately, the dog chose Tyler as the first recipient of its love and youthful dog energy, leaping up on him in the middle of our toast.
He immediately used his arm to keep the dog away, splashing some of his vodka tonic down his shirt. “Down, animal,” he said nonchalantly—and frankly, a little coldly. “Anyway, as Ani said, we appreciate you all being here.”
Sitting a few chairs away from Tyler, Sam stiffened. I got it. Tyler could come across like that, unlike Ani, who had warmth and love enough to fill this barn forty times over. “Tyler, it’s a puppy, dude,” I said as the dog bounded over to me. I reached down and playfully scratched behind its ears. “You just need some time to learn your manners, don’t you, girl?” Maybe Tyler did too, but I didn’t say that.
Ani immediately called the puppy over and petted it, cooing to it as it placed its paws on her legs. “How do you know it’s a girl?” she asked me.
“If he has to explain that to you, then you might have to repeat med school,” Tyler said. Then he sneezed.
“Give her a break, Tyler,” Sam said, calling him out. “She didn’t do a physical. Marin said it’s a girl. But she doesn’t have a name yet besides Pup.” At the sound of Sam’s voice, the puppy turned and bolted over to her.
Sam stiffened, immediately putting her hands up on the table, as if to protect herself. But the dog jumped up on her, placing its paws on her leg and wagging its tail at high speed.
I half got out of my seat, unsure of exactly how frightened she was of dogs, half ready to swoop the dog up and away from her if she showed any signs of distress.
“Well, hello,” she said, cautiously looking down. The dog looked up and wagged its tail in that puppy way.
Sam gave a nervous laugh. She was so still that I could have tipped her straight over with one flick.
I got up and stood behind her chair, then reached over to pet the dog—and gently steered her away from Sam. “That’s the puppy butt-wiggle.”
She glanced up at me and laughed. “The what?”
I stooped down and let the puppy jump up and put her paws on me. “She likes you. The butt-wiggle is a barometer.”
“She’s got big feet,” Sam said, a little more relaxed since I was keeping the puppy at bay.
My turn to laugh. “Those are called paws. And if they’re big, that can mean the dog is going to be big too.”
The dog was staring at Sam. Going nose to nose with her, practically. Like, in love.
“You have the prettiest brown eyes,” she said to the dog. “No one on the planet will be able to refuse you.” The dog licked her leg.
She burst out laughing.
I did a little roughhousing with the dog. I mean, I didn’t want Sam to get freaked out or anything. But as soon as I stopped, she jumped up on Sam again.
She didn’t seem frightened. But she did seem unsure of what to do.
“It’s okay to pet her,” I said, “if you want.” I kept my hands right there, rubbing the puppy’s head, scratching behind the ears. My way of letting her know I’d be right there if something went wrong.
Sam lowered her hand. But she didn’t actually get to the dog’s head. The puppy began to lick her fingers.
Sam giggled. A sound I’d never heard before. But it made me feel warm all over.
She bent down to examine the pup up close. “You’re pretty cute.”
So the puppy responded by licking her nose. And that unleashed a giant snort of laughter. She sat up, rubbing the dog saliva off her nose, still chuckling.
Then Marin ran over and scooped up the dog. “Sorry about that.”
“Did you think of a name yet?” Sam asked.
“No, but if you’ve got an idea, we might take it. I agree with you, being called Pup is just plain sad.”
“Bye,” Sam said as Marin carted her away. The dog gave a little whine, unhappy to be taken away from all the fun.
“Hey, watch it, Sam,” Ani warned, “or you’ll be taking her home.”
“Not me.” Sam put up her hands. “My landlady can’t bear it when I tiptoe on the floor after nine p.m. A dog would throw her completely over the edge.”
Mia stifled a yawn and stretched her arms. “This was really fun, but I’m post-call and I’m going to hit the sack early. We have hunt-your-own breakfast tomorrow at seven. Does anyone care if I turn in?”
“I’ll go with you,” Brax was quick to say. “Full moon tonight. We can take a stroll around the lake.”
Tyler sneezed and blew his nose with a napkin. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said to Ani, “but I’m going to head back and google when the pharmacy in town opens tomorrow morning. If you all will excuse me.”
“I’ll go with you.” Ani rose to go with him. But she looked like she wanted to stay.
Lilly said, “I think I’ll head back to the cabin too.”
“I hope it’s not because I crushed your foot,” I said. I was a little thrown she’d want to leave this early.
“No, not at all,” she said with a smile. Then she dropped her voice. “I’m just a little bored. Square-dancing just isn’t my thing.”
What was her thing? I suppose my ego felt a little offended—for about ten seconds—her leaving certainly saying everything about her desire to spend time with me. But my thoughts immediately strayed over to Sam. Maybe she’d stay. Maybe we’d get to talk some more.
A young teenage boy wearing blue jeans and a white shirt placed a giant order of french fries that we’d ordered onto our table. Lilly immediately looked distressed. “I hate to cause a problem,” she said to the server, “but these are burnt.”
I can’t call myself a french fry connoisseur, but I didn’t see the issue. Maybe there were a few slightly more brownish ones on the top. I reached over and grabbed them and put them into my mouth. “Problem solved,” I said with a smile, trying my best to repair the cringe factor.
Lilly gave me the eye. And her color was up, both indicators that she was angry. But I didn’t regret trying to defuse things. I was coming to suspect that Lilly routinely expected James Beard-rated food.
“Caleb, I was making a point,” she huffed.
More cringe. Before I could answer, Quinn pulled the plate over, examined the fries, and snagged one. “Did you say you’re a florist?” he asked Lilly as he calmly chewed his fry. I was so relieved he’d said something that I got over the fact that he was talking and eating at the same time.
“Yes,” Lilly said.
“So, customer service.” He sat back and examined her.
A frown creased her pretty brow. “What’s your point?”
“That server is just a teenager trying to earn a buck. Have some compassion, lady.”
She immediately stood up, looking like she wanted to leave, like, yesterday. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that you should get what you pay for.”
“I’m going to grab us another pitcher,” Sam said cheerily, getting up from the table and effectively cutting off the discussion. “Unless anyone wants something else?” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she, Quinn, and I were going to be splitting that whole pitcher among ourselves, because at this point our troops were dropping like flies.
After everyone left, Quinn sat back and smiled. “She’s got it all,” he said to me because, well, there was no one else.
I felt my brows shoot up with surprise. “Sam or Lilly?”
Quinn smiled. “I was a waiter all through college and med school. Being chewed out for food issues that aren’t really issues is abominable.”
I could hear my mom’s take on this now. “Anyone who is nasty to anyone in the service industry is not a good life partner.”
Ha. But I had to say, it was kind of true, in an obnoxious way.
“So how long have you and Sam been friends?” Quinn asked.
And… I was back to disliking him, just like that.
My gaze wandered over to where Sam was in line at the bar. She was chatting with an older woman dressed in a red-and-white checked skirt. Suddenly she burst into laughter.
Part of me wanted to get up and join her conversation instead of listening to Quinn pry me with unashamed questions. Although for a few minutes, I’d found a new respect for him for calling Lilly out.
“Sam’s pretty and smart and funny. She’s not seeing anyone, is she?”
“She’s not interested in dating,” I said before I could think. “Bad breakup.” I let that settle and hoped that Sam would forgive me. “And she’s dancing the next round with me. Sorry, buddy.” Maybe that sounded a little harsh. But somehow it just flew right out of my mouth.
Sam was going to either kill me or thank me, I wasn’t sure which.
Quinn leaned forward. “Really? How bad?”
I leaned forward. “Oh my God. Really bad.”
“Me too. I just got dumped after six years. Six years. I bought the ring too. She kept it and won’t give it back.”
He looked torn up. “Sorry. That’s harsh.”
Quinn rubbed his forehead. “It’s been six months. I decided I have to get back in the dating pool. It’s the only way forward.”
“That’s a positive attitude.”
“Sam’s tall and she’s got that shiny black hair and those big brown eyes… totally different from my ex.”
That statement was so loaded that I didn’t want to touch it with a ten-foot pole. I pretended to check my watch. “Hey, I’m going to help Sam. Can I get you anything?”
“No, thanks.” I got up and beelined pretty fast, pretending not to hear his “So you don’t think she’d date me?”
I passed Sam in line. “Everything okay?” I pulled some money out of my pocket. “I forgot to give you this.”
“I got this round,” she said, pushing my hand back.
She looked worried. Distracted even. “What’s up?” I asked.
She sighed heavily. “Do you think you might stay just a little longer? Mia asked me for a little bit of time before I head back to the cabin.”
“Sure, I’ll stay.” That sounded a little too enthusiastic, so I added, “I mean—Brax told me to take my time heading back there too.”
“Wait, so—which one are they using?” She laughed and shook her head. “Why didn’t they just get their own cabin? I feel like I’m back in college again where a blue ribbon on the doorknob means hanky-panky going on inside.”
I would’ve laughed, except something was bothering me. “Has Quinn done anything to make you uncomfortable?”
“Nothing like that. I hate to be blunt when we’ve got to interact more before the wedding, but I might have to.”
“I might’ve told him you were devastated by a breakup and weren’t interested. I hope you don’t mind.”
She laughed. “I hope that works, but I’m not sure it will. Has Lilly left?”
“She wasn’t into the square dance. Also, I might’ve stepped on her foot. Even worse, I put a giant scuff on her shoe.”
“Yikes.” Her eyes danced with humor. “Sorry about that.”
I smiled. Mostly because she made me want to smile. I felt relaxed and comfortable around her. “I want to stay and dance anyway.”
She grinned widely. “Me too.”
“But first, food. What are you getting?”
“Grilled cheese. French fries. A shake. Do they have that? I’m starving!”
“I got you,” I said, and moved on to the food counter.
We chowed down pretty fast. Good thing, because the caller announced another round. Before I could think about what I was doing, I asked, “Sam, be my partner?”
And so we walked onto the dance floor. She stood across from me, grinning widely. “I have to warn you,” I said, “I’m not very good at this. I might step on your foot.”
“I might step on yours,” she said right back. “Come on.” And then she whisked me away.
* * *
Samantha
Caleb and I danced the entire set together. All too soon, the caller announced the final song, the music came to a sudden stop, and everyone cheered, whooped, and clapped. We were breathless and laughing as we left the floor.
“You’re… having fun,” Caleb said in a quiet voice, his eyes twinkling. He appeared to be very satisfied that he’d called me out.
I was having fun. I really, really was. We’d learned all the calls and the steps, poking fun at each other’s missteps and making funny faces. I didn’t want it to end even as I knew it had to. “No. I’m not,” I answered, but I’m sure I was grinning from ear to ear.
He reached out a hand and pushed a strand of my hair back. “Look at you. You’re all untidy and glowing. I’d say definite fun was had.”
I stared at him, frozen. He’d just touched my hair, and that was… unexpected. And confusing.
He didn’t seem to notice, just kept staring at me. Finally, he gave a low chuckle. “Samantha unleashed,” he said in a low voice, shaking his head incredulously.
He looked as thrown and surprised as I was.
I tried to think of a snappy comeback, something about all my bones being intact and not stepped on or something, but my mind was blank, dead as my uncharged phone. I felt flushed and hot, and my knees felt wobbly, like I might collapse in a heap if I didn’t reach our table ASAP. Yet we both stayed rooted to the spot.
I steeled myself away from all that feeling. It was nothing . Just a fun, unexpected moment. Nothing more.
Tell that to my heart, which was beating more rapidly than during a decent round of cardio.
Every time we promenaded, held hands, swung our partner, or had a reason to touch, it was electric. Call it a square dance high. Make that a Caleb high. As we’d learned the age-old dances, his eyes sparkled, he smiled, and we’d both let loose. We’d laughed and squawked like chickens and do-si-doed and had a great time.
He didn’t even step on my feet, I thought with pride, even though they were a lot bigger than Lilly’s.
Dancing, the music, the moves, the fun. And something more that I did not want to admit even to myself. I thought about what Mia had said. That I tended to run from relationships. What would it be like if I didn’t run? If I took a chance?
The caller thanked everyone for coming, and the fiddlers began packing away their fiddles. Somehow we were still standing there, connected in some unspoken way. I knew that once one of us moved, it would be broken forever.
Across the barn, Quinn spotted us and started walking toward us.
Go now , I told myself.
“Thanks for dancing,” I said, tearing my gaze away. I couldn’t keep looking into Caleb’s eyes. I was losing my sense, my direction.
With this crazy energy, if it were another time, another guy, I’d expect an invite. Or give one. To get a drink. To go out. To go to bed.
But this was not the time, and this was definitely not the guy.
How could we have barely touched, not even have kissed, and yet I felt this way?
This was a man who, until three days ago, was on my most unlikeable persons list. Who believed in romantic fairy tales. Who was here to discover if he was truly still in love with his first love.
Remembering that woke me from my stupor. I was not going to—could not—interfere with his plan. It would only lead to heartache. And I would never, ever do anything to endanger my friendship with Mia.
“I’m going to cut out now,” I said at the same time that he said, “I’m going to head back to the cabin.”
“Let me walk you back,” he said.
“No, I’m fine. Thanks. See you in the morning. You still want to meet before breakfast and discuss some strategy about Lilly for the hike?” I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. As if I could offer a useful strategy to use with Lilly. As if I wanted to! That was laughable, really.
Considering the fact that Lilly had shown up at the last minute, complained about being bored, and then left, it didn’t seem like things were going that well. And that didn’t even count the french fry fiasco. I wasn’t sure what else I could do to turn that tide, especially with all the emotions churning inside me. But I’d put it out there, and I was nothing but good on my word.
“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Thanks.”
Great. I was thinking what an idiot I was as I turned and started walking toward the path. What was I doing? Not what I was supposed to be doing. I was muddying the waters. Interfering in decisions Caleb had to make all by himself. Suddenly I turned around and called his name.
I was surprised to find him still standing there, watching me.
That threw me a little, but I focused on what I wanted to say. “The matchmaker test—you and Lilly passed with flying colors.” That seemed to catch him by surprise. “Just wanted you to know.”
Then I left before Quinn could figure out where I’d gone. But I didn’t really care about Quinn. I had to get away before I could think any more about what the hell had just happened.
Mia was right. I was running away. But I had no choice.