He must have felt like Adam cast out from Paradise. Just watching Boone and knowing how this place formed so much of who he was, seeing the pain that lingered from the years he’d been forced away, gave Maddie a sense of what leaving must have cost her father.
That he had done it to save his mother, that he had known everyone else important to him would think him a murderer, seemed to Maddie like a deed as noble as anything she’d ever heard or read.
That Sam had denied him the chance to return was a tragedy, a betrayal of staggering proportions.
For the first time, Maddie truly understood why Sam had given her this place. He had to know what it would have cost Dalton to lose it. Sam also knew how it felt to lose Jenny. And by his actions, he had condemned her father to needless years as an outcast from both the place and the woman he loved.
But if Sam had looked for her father, what would have happened? She had been a child then. If her father had come back here, what would her life have been like? What would have happened to her, to Boone and Mitch, if Dalton and Jenny had wanted to be together?
It was all too confusing—and all water under the bridge. And much as this place now pulled at Maddie, there still remained the fact that she couldn’t make a living here. She had a life and a career back East; here she had nothing but other people’s broken dreams.
Drawing in a deep breath, Maddie sent a promise heavenward to her father. I understand, Daddy, and I will soak in all of this that I can before I must leave. Someday I will tell your story to a new generation. I won’t let your heritage die. I just hope you understand all the reasons why I can’t possibly stay.
Then with a heavy sigh, Maddie bent back to her weeding.
Boone drove up to the community center that night, asking himself for the fifteenth time why he wasn’t at home enjoying the silence.
Maddie would be fine. She was a big girl. Jim was there. He would just watch for a while, then he would leave.
After parking his truck, Boone stepped out and heard the music blaring. How long had it been since he’d attended a dance? Helen had turned her nose up at country music—would Maddie be doing the same?
Would she mentally be poking fun at the rubes? Would the music grate on her nerves? A part of Boone readied himself to defend the people and the place he loved from mockery. These were good people. They worked hard and had little to show for their efforts, either in material goods or lifestyle options.
Simple people who were the salt of the earth. He had missed them all.
Boone nodded to various old acquaintances, noting the tipped hats and smiles. He stopped to visit with neighboring ranchers and quickly discovered word had spread of the interloper city-slicker who had come to town.
Boone was surprised to find himself defending Maddie, more surprised to find himself scanning the crowd inside for her presence.
It didn’t take long.
She was a flame glowing in the darkness. Around her circled the moths, batting their wings and courting annihilation.
Boone watched her. And he burned.
Standing against a support post in the darkness, he saw the fire and the fun that was Maddie. In full gypsy regalia, Maddie reigned as belle of the ball. Her red halter top glowed against pale satin skin, the full froth of her short red and gold skirt showing off the legs that haunted his dreams.
But it was Maddie’s spirit that glowed brightest as she danced and laughed. She didn’t know the steps—that much was obvious—but her good nature and natural grace made it unimportant. Surrounded by partners more than willing to teach her, Maddie learned quickly. He watched her do the Cotton-Eyed Joe and the schottische, her legs flashing and drawing every male eye in the place. When she missed a step, her laughter brought smiles to every face.
Maddie’s easy affection charmed them all. Sour old women found no fault, for Maddie was unfailingly polite and never favored anyone. She could not be branded easy, but her sensuality wove a spell around every man in the hall. Yet the women smiled at her laughter, at her willingness to poke fun at herself.
The City Girl had made herself at home.
Boone watched his neighbors with amazement, these people who were never rude but didn’t take kindly to strangers. One by one, they accepted Maddie into the fold.
It was torture to watch her, to see her move into the arms of old men and boys, young studs eager to show off and mature men who wanted to claim her.
He wanted to step out of the darkness and tell every one of them to get lost.
But Maddie wasn’t his. She was only visiting.
Boone felt a gaze on him and turned to the left. Jim nodded toward Maddie and lifted his beer in a salute. His taunting challenge hung in the air.
First thing tomorrow, Boone was sending Jim to walk the miles of fence line. Not ride. Walk.