Terri Reed - The Deputy’s Duty

“This reminds me of old times.” He shuffled a step, bringing her gently with him. “Do you remember that night?”

“How could I forget?” She had been a farmer’s daughter, even if her stepfather had been well-landed, and she had never seen such a lavish place as this ballroom. She had worn a gown of yellow silk adorned with pearls and French lace. The cost of the dress could have fed them all for a year these days, but how she had adored that gown.

But it wasn’t her feelings for the dress that she remembered most about that magical evening. That had been the night they had fallen in love. Gently. Sweetly. Like the quiet notes of a sonata lifting into the brilliant winter’s night. All he had done was take her hand and asked her to dance, but it had been like grace coming to her soul. She no longer heard the music and the presence of the other dancers faded away. It was as if they had been alone, lost in each other.

After they had danced, he led her out onto the terrace, giving her his jacket to keep her warm-and they had watched the star-strewn sky. They had kissed-their first and only-and he had told her he intended to marry her one day.

He had promised to love her forever-but surely he did not remember that after all these years. Too much time had passed. Some promises, no matter how sincere, were not meant to be kept.

Or were they? Anything seemed possible when she was in his arms.

There she went, being nonsensical. She did not know how Joe felt. Yet, she couldn’t help but hold on to a tiny flicker of hope that he still cared, just a little. He remembered their last ball-at least, perhaps it was special to him, too…

“You know, that night I felt like a fairy-tale princess who had caught the charming prince.”

“You made me feel like one.” He turned her in a slow, elegant swirl.

His response encouraged her heart-but then he changed the subject with another question: “Tell me how you came to be a maid for my mother.”

She sighed. “I started working three evenings a week cleaning for the Angel Falls Hotel, but it wasn’t enough. Still, when I heard your parents had moved back in town and were hiring, I did not even think of applying.”

“I believe you.” He winced. “You could not have been eager to come face-to-face with my mother again.”

“It wasn’t your mother but memories of you.”

Joe almost stopped when he heard that. “Did remembering me bring you that much pain?” He winced at the thought. Here she was in his arms and his heart was filling with more emotions than he could count-all of them tender and all of them for her-and she was hurting. He had to stop that. He had to fix it. Somehow he prayed he could make everything right. “I want you to remember the good times, Lanna. How happy we were together.”

“But I do remember! We were always laughing.”

“Yes, we were.” His voice was rough, vulnerable, as memories swept over him. Like the spring they had gone berry-picking near the river. He could still hear her voice… “Ouch! I can’t believe I got stung again.”

“Let me come chase off the bees first, then pick the berries.” He had put down his pail and lifted her hands from the vines. Her soft, slim fingers had been stained with berry juice and two welts were rising where the bees had stung her. “Let me make these better,” he’d said and gently kissed each one.

Memories. He shook them away, bringing his mind back to the present-back to her. Gazing into her lovely face, he could still see the Lanna he had fallen for. Time could not change that.

She continued, oblivious to his thoughts. “But after you left, there was little to laugh about. My job at the hotel couldn’t support the three of us. So last summer, when word spread that your mother was hiring another maid, I had to at least try for the job. I’m told ten other women applied for the one opening your mother had. She did me the favor of hiring me.”

“Ah, Lanna. You are still as generous as ever.” He shook his head. “You know why my mother chose you.”

“To prove a point, I expect, but it was still a benefit to my family, so I’m grateful.”

He shook his head, wishing his mother’s intentions were as pure as Lanna’s heart. “She was thrilled when my father became governor, not only for the social position but because it separated us.”

“I know.” While Geneva had not protested, she had made her displeasure known throughout their courtship. “You broke my heart when you left, Joe.”

“Mine broke, too.” He fell silent, but there was more in his eyes, more that he chose not to say.

Just as Lanna chose silence. For self-protection. To shore up the pieces of her heart. It all seemed too good to be true, waltzing in Joe’s arms.

Yet, all songs came to an end, and this one was no different. The final notes rang bittersweetly through the ballroom. She took a step back and curtsied. Joe bowed.

Their dance was over.

She felt a tap on her shoulder. There, towering behind her was a man she did not recognize. Perhaps a connection to the Wolf family from their political days?

“Miss, may I have the next free dance on your card?” the gentlemen asked courteously.

Her jaw dropped. Why would he ask her? She bit her lip before the question could slip out.

“Oh, no you don’t, Chance Bell.” Joe chuckled. “Lanna isn’t about to keep company with the likes of you.”

Chance Bell? Lanna did not recognize him-then again, he’d been several years ahead of them in school. He’d grown much taller and had a pirate’s grin, one that spelled trouble. Next to him, Joe’s rugged, confident maturity looked even more admirable.

Not that she should be noticing. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Sorry, Chance. I don’t have a dance card. I only came by to say hello to Joe.”

Chance raised one eyebrow. “Seems like that waltz was more than a simple hello. I should have known I didn’t have a shot.”

He is only being polite and charming, Lanna told herself as Chance winked at her and walked away. Surely Joe could see that, too. Although that did not explain why he had drawn himself up like a gorilla. “Joe? Are you all right?”

“Oh yes, fine. You didn’t want to waltz with him, did you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s a relief.” He blew out a little air, looking a little more like himself. “Chance is a wily sort. Not the kind of gentleman you might feel comfortable with.”

“Oh, and I feel comfortable with you?”

That made him laugh, though it had not entirely been a joke. Perhaps he had not guessed the truth. After all, he made her uncomfortable because of her feelings for him. Lanna reminded herself that she still did not know what he felt for her.

The music’s tempo had quickened into a lively schottische. Not exactly the kind of dance she liked. But she didn’t need to say a word to Joe-he was already leading the way toward the long rows of cloth-covered tables set up discreetly at the back. Crystal, china and silver sparkled as they displayed rich treats, desserts and beverages. Just like that night years ago. She wished the past could come to life again.

“For you.” Joe slipped a cup of lemonade into her hands. “Still your favorite?”

“Yes, and yours?”

“I haven’t changed all that much.” He paused, his voice lowered. “I missed you, Lanna.”

And there went her heart, falling a little bit more in love with Joe Wolf. She steadied her hands, tried to settle her feelings and took a small sip. The lemonade was refreshingly cold and more sweet than sour. “I missed you, too, Joe.”

“That’s mighty good to hear.” He led the way past a crowd of Geneva’s friends toward a long row of Palladian windows. The night was radiant; moonlight polished the long reaches of snowy ground and the world glowed like a black opal, rich and rare. Lanna took it as a sign that this last night of the year would bring transformation.