two weeks, the Saturday before Thanksgiving. It was very likely that Marilee was dropping hints right and left that Janie would love Leo to escort her.
She chuckled to herself. She was lucky to have a friend like Marilee.
If Janie had known what Marilee was actually saying to Leo, she might have changed her mind about the other woman’s friendship and a lot of other things.
“It was so nice of you to drive me to the store, Leo,” Marilee was cooing at Leo as they walked out. “My wrist is really sore from that fall I took.”
“No problem,” he murmured with a smile.
“The Cattleman’s Ball is week after next,” Marilee added coyly. “I would really love to go, but nobody’s asked me. I won’t be able to drive by then, either, I’m sure. It was a bad sprain. They take almost as long as a broken bone to heal.” She glanced up at him, weighing her chances. “Of course, Janie’s told everybody that you’re taking her. She said you’re over there all the time now, that it’s just a matter of time before you buy her a ring. Everybody knows.”
He scowled fiercely. He’d only kissed Janie, he hadn’t proposed marriage, for God’s sake! Surely the girl wasn’t going to get possessive because of a kiss? He hated gossip, especially about himself. Well, Janie could forget any invitations of that sort. He didn’t like aggressive women who told lies around town. Not one bit!
“You can go with me,” he told Marilee nonchalantly. “Despite what Janie told you, I am no woman’s property, and I’m damned sure not booked for the dance!”
Marilee beamed. “Thanks, Leo!”
He shrugged. She was pretty and he liked her company. She wasn’t one of those women who felt the need to constantly compete with men. He’d made his opinion about that pretty clear to Marilee in recent weeks. It occurred to him that Janie was suddenly trying to do just that, what with calf roping and ranch work and hard riding. Odd, when she’d never shown any such inclination before. But her self-assured talk about being his date for the ball set him off and stopped his mind from further reasoning about her sudden change of attitude.
He smiled down at Marilee. “Thanks for telling me about the gossip,” he added. “Best way to curb it is to disprove it publicly.”
“Of course it is. You mustn’t blame Janie too much,” she added with just the right amount of affection. “She’s very young. Compared to me, I mean. If we hadn’t been neighbors, we probably wouldn’t be friends at all. She seems so… well, so juvenile at times, doesn’t she?”
Leo frowned. He’d forgotten that Marilee was older than Janie. He thought back to those hard, hungry kisses he’d shared with Janie and could have cursed himself for his weakness. She was immature. She was building a whole affair on a kiss or two. Then he remembered something unexpectedly.
He glanced down at Marilee. “You said she had more boyfriends than anybody else in town.”
Marilee cleared her throat. “Well, yes, boy friends. Not men friends, though,” she added, covering her bases. It was hard to make Janie look juvenile if she was also a heartbreaking rounder.
Leo felt placated, God knew why. “There’s a difference.”
Marilee agreed. A tiny voice in her mind chided her for being so mean to her best friend, but Leo was a real hunk, and she was as infatuated with him as Janie was. All was fair in love and war, didn’t they say? Besides, it was highly unlikely that Leo would ever ask Janie out—but, just in case, Marilee had planted a nice little suspicion in his mind to prevent that. She smiled as she walked beside him to his truck, dreaming of the first of many dances and being in Leo’s arms. One day, she thought ecstatically, he might even want to marry her!
Janie went through two more bags of flour with attempts at biscuits that became better with each failed try. Finally, after several days’ work, she had produced an edible batch that impressed even Hettie.
In between cooking, she was getting much better on horseback. Now, mounted on her black-and-white quarter horse, Blackie, she could cut out a calf and drive it into the makeshift corral used for doctoring sick animals. She could throw a calf, too, with something like professionalism, despite sore muscles and frequent bruises. She could rope, after a fashion, and she was riding better all the time. At least the chafing of her thighs against the saddle had stopped, and the muscles had acclimatized to the new stress being placed on them.
Saturday night loomed. It was only four days until the Cattleman’s Ball, and she had a beautiful spaghetti-strapped lacy oyster-white dress to wear. It came to her ankles and was low-cut in front, leaving the creamy skin of her shoulders bare. There was a side-slit that went up her thigh, exposing her beautiful long legs. She paired the dress with white spiked high heels sporting ankle straps which she thought were extremely sexy, and she had a black velvet coat with a white silk lining to defend against the cold evening air. Now all she lacked was a date.
She’d expected Leo to ask her to the ball after those hungry kisses, despite his coolness later that day. But he hadn’t been near the ranch since he’d had supper with her and her father. What made it even more peculiar was that he’d talked with her father out on the ranch several times. He just didn’t come to the house. Janie assumed that he was regretting those hard kisses, and was afraid that she was taking him too seriously. He was avoiding her. He couldn’t have made it plainer.
That made it a pretty good bet that he wasn’t planning to take her to any Cattleman’s Ball. She phoned Marilee in desperation.
The other woman sounded uneasy when she heard Janie’s voice, and she was quick to ask why Janie had phoned.
“I saw you with Leo in the grocery store week before last,” Janie began, “and I didn’t interfere, because I was sure you were trying to talk him into taking me to the ball. But he didn’t want to, did he?” she added sadly.
There was a sound like someone swallowing, on the other end of the phone. “Well, actually, no. I’m sorry.” Marilee sounded as if she were strangling on the words.
“Don’t feel bad,” Janie said gently. “It’s not your fault. You’re my best friend in the whole world. I know you tried.”
“Janie…”
“I had this beautiful white dress that I bought specially,” Janie added on a sigh. “Well, that’s that. Are you going?”
There was a tense pause. “Yes.”
“Good! Anybody I know?”
“N… no,” Marilee stammered.
“You have fun,” Janie said.
“You… uh… aren’t going, are you?” Marilee added.
Her friend certainly was acting funny, Janie thought. “No, I don’t have a date,” Janie chuckled. “There’ll be other dances, I guess. Maybe Leo will ask me another time.” After he’s got over being afraid of me, she added silently. “If you see him,” she said quickly, “you might mention that I can now cut out cattle and throw a calf. And I can make a biscuit that doesn’t go through the floor when dropped!”
She was laughing, but Marilee didn’t.
“I have to get to the hairdresser, Janie,” Marilee said. “I’m really sorry… about the ball.”
“Not your fault,” Janie repeated. “Just have enough fun for both of us, okay?”
“Okay. See you.”
The line went dead and Janie frowned. Something must be very wrong with Marilee. She wished she’d been more persistent and asked what was the matter. Well, she’d go over to Marilee’s house after the dance to pump her for all the latest gossip, and then she could find out what was troubling her friend.
She put the ball to the back of her mind, despite the disappointment, and went out to greet her father as he rode in from the pasture with two of his men.
He