Читать книгу The Forgotten Daughter - Lauri Robinson - Страница 11

Chapter Four

Scooter hadn’t been lying. Her sisters had been looking for her, and the expression on her father’s face said he wasn’t impressed.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said, rushing up to where he stood next to the piano. Other instruments had been set up, too. Swallowing, she added, “There were things I had to see to.”

“Like what?” Norma Rose asked. “We looked everywhere for you.”

“There were some issues with one of the cabins.” Josie felt her insides sinking again with the number of lies she’d told lately.

“We have maintenance people for that,” her father said.

“It’s all settled now,” Scooter said. Giving her father a nod, he started to step away.

“Not so fast, there, son,” her father said. “Josie needs a dance partner.” With that, her father stepped forward and called for the crowd’s attention.

“I have fireworks to set off,” Scooter said to her. “You’re going to have to find yourself another partner.”

That would have suited Josie just fine, however, she didn’t need her father’s fury. “And irritate my father further?” she snapped. “Not on your life. We’ll bow out of the contest in plenty of time for you to set off the fireworks.”

His eyes narrowed. “And plenty of time for you to still sneak away?”

“No,” she snapped. Then, because there hadn’t been time earlier, not with the way he’d dragged her from the cabin to the dance floor, she asked, “What did you and Gloria talk about?”

His glower grew darker. “Let’s just say we have an understanding.”

“That neither of you will tell my father what the other knows,” she concluded. Her father would be furious. “Maybe I’ll tell him about both of you.”

“Go ahead,” Scooter said. “It’s what I’ve wanted all along.” Snapping his fingers, he added, “He’ll put a stop to your shenanigans that fast.”

“They aren’t shenanigans,” she insisted.

He grabbed her hand. “Whatever they are, you aren’t doing them tonight. You’re going to be glued to my side like chrome on a bumper.”

Josie didn’t have time to respond. The moment music filled the air, people ran to snag an inch on the dance floor. Scooter shouldered their way into the very center, and there he held her so close she could barely breathe, let alone dance. Being this close to him increased her anger.

“Good grief, Scooter.” She pushed at his shoulders with both hands. “You’re smothering me.”

“It’s not me. We’re packed in here tighter than whiskey bottles in a crate.”

It was only then that Josie realized his hands barely rested on her sides; the pressure forcing her against him was from someone pressed against her back. She’d danced with Scooter many times over the past few weeks, and had never experienced the sensations she was feeling right now. Every inch of her body was sizzling. She’d like to believe it was her anger, but knew it wasn’t. This was different.

In fact, she wasn’t mad at Scooter for interrupting her journey to Duluth. That had been a bad idea from the minute Gloria had suggested it—the two of them would surely have been missed. She was mad because he wanted her to stop. That wasn’t an option. Not even if she wanted it to be.

She’d never gotten a good look at Francine Wilks or her henchman. For her to pick them out in the crowd tonight was impossible. There were too many people. She was comforted knowing the same was true for them. There was no way for them to make a link between the woman handing out condoms and her or the resort, not unless they recognized her car. To be on the safe side, for the past couple of trips she’d made to Duluth, she’d swapped cars with Twyla, who’d been so busy planning this party she hadn’t questioned why. Neither of their cars was so unique they stood out in a crowd, so even if Francine or her man saw the family vehicles in the garage out front, they still wouldn’t know.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Scooter asked.

Snapping her head up, Josie replied, “Nothing, other than I wish there was more room.”

Scooter started to lead them sideways, which was a slow task.

“Are we bowing out?” she asked, not sure whether she was pleased or not about that idea.

“No, but I see Dac. I’ll ask him to move some tables and give us some room on the grass. If either of us leave to do it, we’ll be eliminated.”

She joined his efforts, elbowing people aside, all the while dancing, until they were at the side of the dance floor. Scooter yelled for Dac Lester, who quickly found a couple of other men to assist him. Drawing her hand over her head, Scooter twirled Josie around, off the dance floor and onto the grass. Other couples followed. Soon the grassy area was as full as the dance floor, but at least there was room to actually dance.

When a few people started shouting for disqualifications Slim Johnson yelled above the noise of the piano that the grass area was officially part of the dance floor.

“Goodness, people sure are serious about this contest,” she said when the next dance had them in each other’s arms once again.

“A hundred bucks means a lot to people,” Scooter said. “Some of the folks here don’t make that much in a month or more.”

They were so close his chin was just over her shoulder, making his breath tickle her ear. Josie leaned back to look him in the eye. She hadn’t been any more enthusiastic for this dance-off than she’d been the last time, but she’d gone along with her sisters. As usual, she’d do anything to keep the focus away from her. “I understand that. I’m the one who suggested the prize be cash. Norma Rose wanted to give away a bottle of whiskey again.”

Scooter did have a rather fantastic grin. It was one of those smiles that fed others. “And a snow globe?”

Josie, although grinning, shook her head. “That is one of Norma Rose’s prized possessions. It was back then, too, she just couldn’t admit it that night.”

“And now she can?”

“Yes, Ty won it for her at the amusement park.”

He nodded and pulled her close to lean over her shoulder. Josie once again scanned the crowd, her thoughts returning to Francine Wilks. Guilt was eating at her, too. There were young girls in that warehouse Francine kept under guard. Girls that needed to be returned to their families. Gloria was sincerely disappointed, and Josie had to admit, she was, too. Uneasy or not, she could have put more effort into sneaking away. Those girls had little hope. Now that she’d participated in the dance-off, no one would be looking for her. Not even Scooter. He’d soon be too busy setting off fireworks to give her a second thought.

“What are you thinking so hard about now?”

She leaned back again. “Why do you keep asking that?”

“Because you keep becoming as stiff as a board,” Scooter said. “And that tells me you’re conjuring something up.”

Just as her mind was coming up blank, Josie’s gaze landed on Scooter’s sister, Maize. She was standing on the sidelines, watching the dancers with a hint of longing in her face. Certainly not a wallflower, Maize could be dancing with any number of men. She chose not to. Once very lively and outgoing, Maize had been changed by the incident with Galen Reynolds.

“I’m just wondering,” Josie said, turning her attention back to Scooter, knowing he was awaiting her answer, “why your sister never came to the resort for a job, rather than the Plantation.”

Scooter shifted slightly as he glanced over his shoulder toward his sister. “I’d say that would be because of your uncle.”

“Dave?” Josie asked, rather confused.

“Yes, Dave,” Scooter answered. “He and John were friends.”

Everyone knew Uncle Dave and John Blackburn had been friends. However, Scooter made it sound as if there was more behind it than she knew. Josie didn’t have the energy to contemplate that notion any more deeply. Not right now. The music had changed to a faster beat, and with her mind elsewhere, her feet became tangled up when Scooter twirled her around.

Scooter’s hold on her hand tightened, but it was too late—she was going down.

She landed on the grass, and he came down on top of her. The grassy area turned into a game of dominoes with people toppling over one another. Josie closed her eyes and tucked her head against Scooter’s shoulder, hoping no one would land on them. For a few seconds she heard nothing but grunts and thuds. And music, which never stopped. Slim didn’t so much as miss a beat.

“I think it’s safe to get up now,” Scooter said a few moments later.

She lifted her head. Others around them were scrambling to their feet.

Scooter pushed off her. The absence of his body pressing against hers left behind a tingling sensation from head to toe that she couldn’t call relief. Unwilling to contemplate such things, Josie readily grasped the hands he held out and leaped to her feet.

Shaking her skirt back into place as soon as her toes touched the ground, she asked, “Dare I admit I’m glad that’s over?”

“Only if I can, too,” he replied.

“Deal.”

He laughed. “Let’s get out of here before we’re knocked down again,” he said, taking her hand to lead her toward the tables.

Ginger and Brock stood there, among several others.

“Are you two all right?” Ginger asked.

Josie nodded.

“Well, applesauce,” Ginger said, brushing grass off her skirt. “That was one huge mess. I thought I was going to get trampled.”

Brock wrapped both arms around Ginger and pulled her back against his chest. “I wouldn’t let that happen, doll. You know that.”

Ginger grinned and looked up at him with sparkling eyes. “Yes, I do.”

“Looks like your other sisters are still going strong,” Scooter said.

Josie scanned the crowd and found Twyla and Norma Rose, dancing with their partners, completely oblivious to what had happened on the other side of the dance floor.

“Need a drink after that, Scooter?” Brock asked.

Scooter shook his head. “No, thanks, I have to go get the fireworks set up.”

“Need any help?” Brock asked.

“Dac’s helping,” Scooter said while wrapping a hand around Josie’s arm. “So is Josie. You and Ginger are welcome to row out in another boat if you want. Could be fun.”

“Yes, let’s,” Ginger said, looking up at Brock, who nodded.

“I’m not helping you,” Josie whispered, as Scooter forced her to start walking beside him.

“Yes, you are.” His lips had barely moved. “I said you’d be glued to my side for the rest of the night, and I meant it.”

“I have things to do,” Josie hissed.

“Not anymore,” he insisted.

Ginger grabbed her other arm. “This is going to be so much fun,” Ginger said. “I’ve never lit fireworks before. Have you?”

“No,” Josie admitted. “And I’d prefer not to.”

“Why?” Ginger asked.

“They scare me.”

“Liar,” Scooter whispered in her ear. Then, loud enough for everyone to hear, he said, “Don’t worry, you’ll be safe with me. As safe as a baby in her mommy’s arms.”

“My mother is dead,” Josie said sarcastically.

Ginger flashed her a frown, but Scooter laughed.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” he said.

“Ducky, Scooter, how old are you, ten?” she asked.

“If the shoe fits,” he said, lifting an eyebrow.

“I’m not the one acting childishly,” she snarled.

“Aren’t you?”

“Fine,” she said stubbornly. “I’ll help light your fireworks.”

“But?”

“But what?” she asked.

“You normally add a but to everything you agree to do.”

“I do not, but I will remember you think I do.”

He lifted a brow again.

“I said that on purpose,” she retorted.

Ginger laughed. “Stop teasing her, Scooter. The two of you are sounding like Twyla and Norma Rose.”

They’d stopped on the far side of the crowd.

“Norma Rose and Twyla argued?” Brock asked teasingly.

“Like a Siamese cat and a bulldog,” Ginger said. “You can guess which is which.”

They all laughed. Even Josie. Ginger had never minded letting people know what she thought.

“Where are the fireworks?” Brock asked.

“Dac and I anchored a raft out in the middle of the lake,” Scooter answered. “We have two boats full of fireworks down by the south cabins.” Gesturing toward the boathouses at the bottom of the slope, he added, “You two may want to take a boat out of one of those houses. I have to get my motorcycle. There are things I need in the saddlebags.”

Josie recognized the chance for an escape. “I’ll go with—”

“Me,” Scooter interrupted. “I need your help.”

“Perfect,” Ginger said, tugging on Brock’s arm. “See you on the water.”

As the other couple started walking away, Josie said, “You don’t need my help.”

“No, I don’t,” Scooter said, spinning her to face him with a firm hold on her elbow. “But I’m not letting you out of my sight. Remember?”

“How could I forget?”

Dac Lester, a tall, thin man with a permanent grin on his face, caught up with them a few steps later. “We heading out to the raft?”

“Yes,” Scooter answered. “It’ll be easier to get everything set up while there’s still some daylight.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dac said. “You joining us, Josie?”

“Yes, she is,” Scooter answered.

“Good enough,” Dac said, nodding toward the resort. “My cycle’s on the other side of the parking lot. I’ll meet you at the boathouses.”

As Dac jogged away, Josie told Scooter, “I have a mouth and could have answered him myself.”

“I know,” Scooter said. “Trust me, I know.”

Josie pulled her arm out of his hold and ignored the way he laughed.

He stayed right at her side, no doubt ready to grab her if she attempted to make a run for it. She might have tried it, too, if there was anywhere for her to run. But that was unlikely tonight. It wouldn’t be worth the effort, either. He’d catch her with these stupid shoes on her feet.

Eventually, they arrived at his motorcycle parked near the garage. Walter, the man in charge of looking after the family cars, stepped out of the garage as they arrived. He merely tipped his hat toward Scooter and reentered the side door. She wondered what Walter did in there all the time. He was nearly always there, unless he was in her father’s office or walking the grounds.

Scooter lifted his flat leather hat off the seat and set it on his head. “I’ll get it started before you climb on.”

She’d always been intrigued by his motorcycle, which was bright red with Indian painted in flourished gold lettering on the fuel tank, but still she insisted, “I’m not riding that. It’s dangerous.”

“And speeding through downtown Duluth isn’t?”

She glared, but turned as Dac whizzed past them on his motorbike, waving.

The start of an engine had her turning back to Scooter.

He had straddled the seat of his bike. “Climb on behind me,” he shouted above the noise. “But don’t let your leg touch that.” He pointed to a long cylinder. “That’s the muffler. It’ll burn you.”