Diana Palmer - Christmas On The Range - Winter Roses

Hayes took her by the hand and drew her along the dance floor to where Cash Grier was standing at the punch bowl with his gorgeous redheaded wife, Tippy.

“How’s it going?” Cash greeted them, shaking hands with Hayes.

Hayes stepped closer. “Rachel sent Willie over there—” he jerked his head toward Willie, who was oblivious to the attention he was getting “—a message.”

Cash was all business at once. “What message?”

Hayes prompted Ivy to repeat it.

“Code?” Cash asked Hayes.

The other man nodded. “It was two days ago that Ivy got the message.”

Cash’s dark eyes twinkled. “What a coincidence.”

“Yes.”

“Which proves that connection we were discussing earlier.” He turned to Ivy. “If your sister sends any more messages to Willie, or anyone else, by you, tell Hayes, would you?”

She was all at sea. “Rachel’s mixed up in something, isn’t she?”

“Not necessarily,” Hayes said at once. “But she knows someone who is, we think. Don’t advertise this, either.”

Ivy shook her head. “I’m no gossip.” She grimaced. “Rachel’s getting mixed up with some rich man, and she’s trying to get away from her boyfriend, who deals drugs. The rich man is married. I’m afraid it’s all going to end badly.”

“People who get involved with drugs usually do end badly,” Hayes said somberly.

“Yes, they do,” Ivy had to agree. She smiled at Tippy, who was wearing a green and white dress made of silk and chiffon. “You look lovely.”

“Thanks,” Tippy replied, smiling. “So do you, Ivy. Marcella made my dress, you know. She made yours, too, didn’t she?”

Ivy nodded, grinning. “She’s amazing.”

“I think so, too,” Tippy agreed. “I’ve sent photos of her work to some friends of mine in New York. Don’t tell her. It’s a surprise.”

“If anything comes of it, she’ll be so thrilled. That was sweet of you.”

Tippy waved away the compliment. “She’s so talented, she deserves a break.”

“Well, I came here to dance,” Hayes informed them, taking Ivy’s hand.

Cash pursed his lips. “Really?”

“I know I’m not in your league, Grier,” Hayes said dourly, “but I can do the Macarena, if we can get somebody to play it.”

“You can?” Cash chuckled. “By a strange coincidence, so can I. And I taught her.” He indicated Tippy.

“In that case,” Hayes replied, grinning, “may the best sheriff win.”

And he went off to talk to the bandleader.

The band stopped suddenly, talked among the members and they all started grinning when Hayes came back to wrap his arm around Ivy.

“One, two, three, four, ” the bandleader counted off, and the band broke into the Macarena.

Ivy knew the steps, having watched a number of important people dance it on television some years before. She wasn’t the only one who remembered. The dance floor filled up with laughing people.

Hayes performed the quick hand motions with expertise, laughing as hard as Ivy was. They got through the second chorus and Ivy almost collapsed into Hayes’s strong arms, resting her cheek against his chest.

“I’m out of shape!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “I need to get out more!”

“Just what I was thinking,” he replied, smiling down at her.

Ivy happened to glance toward the doorway at that moment. Her gaze met a pair of pale blue eyes that were glittering like a diamondback rattlesnake coiling. Ivy’s heart ran away as Stuart York gave her a look that could have fried bread.

5

Ivy had never seen that particular expression in Stuart’s pale eyes, and she was amazed that he seemed so furious. Beside him, Merrie was also watching her with Hayes, and even though she smiled, she seemed a little shocked.

The two Yorks moved through the crowd, pausing now and again to exchange greetings as they came to stand beside Ivy and Hayes, who had broken apart by then. Ivy stared helplessly at Stuart. It had been a long time since she’d seen him. She knew that he’d been avoiding her ever since the unexpected and explosive interlude that last night she’d spent at Merrie’s house, over two years ago.

If she was self-conscious, he wasn’t. His pale eyes were narrow, glittering, dangerous as they met hers.

“I thought you didn’t dance, Hayes,” Merrie said. She was smiling, but she seemed ill at ease.

“I don’t, as a rule,” he agreed, smiling back. “But I can manage it once in a while.”

“We’re all here to support the local animal shelter,” Ivy told Merrie. “From the looks of this crowd, they’re going to end up with plenty of donations.”

“I send them a check every year,” Stuart said curtly.

“Did you two come together?” Hayes asked curiously.

“We were both at a loose end tonight,” Merrie replied. “I got someone to cover for me at the hospital. I really came because I knew Ivy would be here. I haven’t seen her in so long!”

Ivy was bemused. She wondered why Merrie seemed so unlike herself.

“I never believed you’d make a nurse,” Hayes told Merrie with a grin. “I still remember you fainting when we had to sew up a wound on that old horse you used to trot around on.”

“I wish I could forget.” Merrie groaned. “It wouldn’t have been so bad, except for where I landed.”

“It was the only fresh manure on the place,” Stuart inserted with a chuckle. “I swear she took three baths that day before she got rid of the smell.”

The band started up again, this time playing a dreamy slow tune. Hayes looked down at Merrie. “Want to dance?”

She hesitated.

“Go on,” Ivy coaxed, smiling.

Merrie relaxed a little and let Hayes take her hand. He led her onto the dance floor and into a lazy box step. Was it Ivy’s imagination, or did Merrie look as if she’d landed in paradise, wrapped up in Hayes Carson’s strong arms?

“Do you dance, Mr. York?” Tippy asked.

He shook his head, sliding his big hands into his pockets. “Afraid not.”

She smiled. “Neither do I. At least, not very well. I’m learning, though.”

Cash drew her to his side. “Yes, you are, baby,” he said affectionately. “Come on. We can always do with a little practice. See you both later,” he added.

Which left Ivy alone with Stuart for the first time in over two years. She was ill at ease and it showed.

He turned and looked down at her deliberately, his pale eyes narrow and searching. “I like the dress,” he said, his voice deep and slow.

“Thanks,” she said, a little self-conscious because of the way he was looking at her. “I keep books for a boutique owner. It’s a model she’s hoping to sell.”

“So what are you, walking advertising?” he asked.

She smiled. “I suppose so.”

He glanced at his sister dancing with Hayes. “She used to have a horrific crush on him,” he said out of the blue. “I was glad when she outgrew it. Hayes takes chances. He’s been in two serious gun battles since he became sheriff. He barely walked away from the last one. She’d never make a lawman’s wife.”

“She made a nurse,” she pointed out.

“Yes, well, patients go home when they’ve healed. But a lawman’s wife waits up all hours, hoping he’ll come home at all.” He looked down at her. “There’s a difference.”

She felt guilty when she remembered the way Merrie had looked when Hayes asked her to dance, as if she’d trespassed on someone else’s property. Considering Stuart’s attitude, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Merrie might be hiding her interest in Hayes. Stuart liked him, but he’d always said that Hayes was too old for his sister, not to mention being in one of the more dangerous professions. Merrie idolized her brother. She wouldn’t deliberately cross him.