Page 5 of A Rancher's Vow
“I know you’re wrangling things around here now.” Walker twirled a finger in the air as he indicated the office. “Thank God, if I might add.”
She laughed.
“Ivy and I were wondering, does this mean you won’t be teaching ballet anymore?” Walker frowned. “Wait. The summer camps sponsored by the Boys and Girls Club include dance. What’s happening with that now that you’ve started work here?”
“The summer camps are still on,” Charity assured him. “I set my calendar at Silver Stone so the days I teach during the summer can still happen.”
Walker nodded, his expression thoughtful.
“As for the fall, I haven’t set my plans that far out, but I have no intention of giving up the after-school dance lessons. I love teaching them, and I think they’re a good thing for the community.”
Working two jobs meant she would have nearly zero days off over the summer, even after giving up her volunteer position with the fire department.
Her schedule was manageable.
Barely.
Walker eyed her, but his expression brightened. “All three of my kids are interested in dance. I’m glad to hear that it’ll still happen.”
“If things change in the fall, I could give them private lessons.”
Damn it. She really needed to think harder before she spoke. Because if she wasn’t teaching through the community run program, it wouldn’t be financially feasible to do something for just a few kids.
Oh, well. If she ended up donating some hours, but the kids had fun, it would be worth it in the end. Staying on the Stone family good side was a priority.
Walker held out his hand. “Appreciate it.”
Accepting his hand, she shook it firmly. “No problem.”
Locking the office behind her, Charity put her head down and beelined for her car.
A relaxing evening was followed by a late sleep in. Saturday was her usual cleanup of her tiny one-bedroom apartment including catching up on dishes—a once a week marathon event.
The day passed quick enough that it was soon time to get ready to meet Fern. Charity pulled on a jean skirt and a button-down, blue-checked shirt over a pretty yellow tank.
She left her hair natural. Her spiral-like curls hung to the top of her shoulders, a glorious wreath of dark brown, as her grandmother used to say. She felt pretty and was still buzzing inside from the great first day on the job.
Fern stood on the wooden boardwalk outside Rough Cut pub, waving as Charity crossed the street from her apartment.
“Hey, girlfriend.” Fern offered her a high five, then curled her arm with the prosthetic hand around Charity’s elbow. “Ready to trip the light fantastic?”
“Dear Lord. Someday you’re going to say one of these phrases around someone who thinks you’re poking fun at them.”
“If they used to trip the light fantastic, I doubt they’d be that hung up on semantics.” Fern tugged her forward. “Come on. There’s been a huge number of people coming in tonight. Let me reboot that— There’s been a huge number ofwomencoming in tonight. I checked to see if there’s a specialall you can drink ladies’ nightor something, but nothing. We might end up having to dance with each other.”
“Not the worst punishment,” Charity pointed out. “You don’t have two left feet.”
“True that.” Fern grabbed the door and pulled it open, pressing Charity ahead of her into the dimmer light as country music swelled in volume.
Jostled by the bodies around her, Charity struggled to keep her feet. She’d been at Rough Cut when the place was full, but this was beyond anything she’d seen before.
Shoulder to shoulder with the people around her, she was pushed forward as if caught in a wave. And when the pressure broke momentarily, it spat her forward, hard, into the back of a cowboy.
He teetered, tilted. Charity fought for balance, but another bump against her rear simply sent her harder into the man. Even as she apologized, they were falling to the ground, twisting in midair.
He caught her by the arms, and when they landed, he was under her, his back to the dance floor. She bounced against his torso, air rushing from their lungs as she stared into the face of the man she’d been daydreaming about getting horizontal with. Not this way, but still…
Her cheeks heated to boiling as her focus narrowed to the small space on the dance floor where Dustin Stone lay under her in all his muscular glory.
