A Touch of Autumn(54)
Livvy gasped. She’d put on a terrible display with Rudy just to try to make Charles think she was interested in the handsome young man. Now it had backfired on her, plus sent the wrong message to Rudy.
What should she do? She certainly couldn’t just drop Rudy like a hot potato. She must find a way to let him down easily. But what about the waltz? He’d expect it now.
Her hands shook as she saw Rudy coming toward her, pie in hand. She groaned. “I’ve led Rudy on shamefully.”
Helen tried to hide a grin. “You panicked. He’ll get over it.”
Livvy tossed her an uncertain glance. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, and the sooner you let him know, the better,” she cautioned. “Otherwise, it gets harder to do. Once he knows you mean it, I’ll warrant you, he’ll start looking over the other girls.”
“That doesn’t sound much like devotion to me.” After all, Rudy had been after her for years.
“Believe me. He’s only devoted because he thinks there is still a chance. How old is he? Twenty-three or twenty-four?”
“Yes, nearly twenty-four.” Come to think of it, hadn’t Livvy suggested to Carrie Ann earlier that she should go after Rudy?
“Here you go, Livvy.” Rudy set the pie on the table in front of her. And she noticed that he’d dropped the “Miss” when he spoke to her. Oh, this was worse than she’d thought.
“Howdy, Mrs. Flannigan.”
“Hello, Rudy.”
He turned back to Livvy. “You don’t mind if I call you Livvy, do you?”
All right. She needed to handle it right here. “Of course not, Rudy. Goodness, we’ve been friends for years. You didn’t call me ‘Miss’ when we were in school, did you?”
Disappointment flooded his face. He was getting the point.
“No.” He gave a shaky laugh. “But we were children then.”
“Oh, well, what’s a given name between lifelong friends?” She smiled. A different type of smile from the ones she’d tossed his way since Charles and Hannah had arrived. Maybe Rudy would think he’d imagined the others. Then she wouldn’t need to say anything about her actions.
She was happy Mama and Pa had gone home before she’d started her shenanigans. She wouldn’t have been able to hide anything from Mama.
“I really enjoyed the square dances, Rudy. Thanks for being my partner tonight.”
He nodded. “It was my pleasure, Miss Olivia.” His lips curved in a sad smile. “And now, I’d best be getting home. We’re trying a new church in Magnolia Junction in the morning. Mother is very excited about it.”
As he turned to go, Livvy knew she couldn’t let him leave this way. It wasn’t honest. It wasn’t right.
“Wait, Rudy. Will you sit down for a minute? I need to tell you something.”
He turned and took a seat at the table, across from her.
Helen jumped up. “Well, I need to find my husband. It’s almost time for the waltz.”
She was gone in an instant.
Livvy raised her eyes to Rudy’s waiting, questioning gaze.
“I’m so sorry, Rudy.” She swallowed and fought back tears. “You see, I’m in love with Charles Waverly. I was hurt because I thought he cared for someone else. Not wanting him to know, I’m ashamed to say I used you, Rudy. I flirted and led you on to try to prove a point. And you didn’t deserve that. You’ve never been anything but kind to me.”
His face turned ashen for a moment, then he nodded and stood. “As I said, I’ll be leaving now.” Without another word he stalked over to the coatrack and got his overcoat and hat.
Livvy watched in misery as he shoved open the barn door and stepped through.
* * *
Charles watched with interest as Rudy Baker slammed out of the barn, mounted his horse and took off down the road like fury was after him.
Hope rose. Maybe things weren’t that bad after all. He heard strains of an unfamiliar waltz tune drifting from the barn. He’d better get in there, lickety-split.
He charged through the doors and breathed a sigh of relief. The Monroe Brothers were tuning up while folks finished up their refreshments and began to pair up.
Charles glanced around and paused as his eyes met Livvy’s deep blue ones. She caught her breath and continued to walk toward him. He met her and took her hands.
“Livvy.”
“Charles. I’m so sorry. I misunderstood. I should have asked Helen instead of jumping to conclusions.”
“It doesn’t matter. You know now, that’s enough.” He tightened his hands as hers trembled.
The fiddle and accordion picked up the beat. “Okay, folks. It’s almost time to go home. Let’s close the evening with this beautiful waltz, written by a friend of mine down Missouri way. You may have heard it, but probably not, seeing as it’s not yet published. But you will before long, I’m sure. It’s called the ‘Missouri Waltz.’”