Bury the Hatchet in Dead Mule Swamp (29 page)

Janice was presiding over
the line I was in, and Jack Panther kept the other one under
control. I caught his eye and nodded at him. I guessed that Jimmie
and Suzi were the runners for both lines, bringing more food from
the kitchen as needed. Janice grinned from ear to ear when I
reached her.

“What do you think?” she
asked, but the question was rhetorical. She knew the dinner was
good.

“This is beyond amazing,” I
answered anyway. “I didn’t think you were doing so many different
foods.”

“Stores just kept donating
items and asking what they could do to make it bigger and better.
There’s a list over on those posters of all the places that
contributed.”

I looked in the direction
she pointed and noted the names of businesses from most of the
nearby towns, even convenience stores.

“No one wanted to be left
out,” she added. “If nothing else, they sent over bags of chips and
things like that. Or beverages. We got lots of bottled water and
juices and iced teas.”

That made me recall the
cash bar Jerry had been planning. It was the one aspect of
preparations I hadn’t been involved with. I asked Janice where it
was.

“On the other side of the
entrance hall. They didn’t have time to clean up another room, but
the table’s in the hall. Just the bartenders are using the
room.”

“Thanks for the
directions,” I said with a wink. I picked up a pumpkin tart and
headed for a table with utensils, balancing my loaded plates of
food.

The café tables in the
hallway were filled with happy people, eating and talking. Mavis
and Harold Fanning were nibbling from a single plate of chips and
sipping cocktails. They shared a table with a couple I didn’t know.
As much as I wanted to keep my eyes on them, I couldn’t figure out
how that was going to be possible in the crowded
building.

I could hear yells and
laughter coming from the end of the hall and assumed Cheyanne had
things in hand there. Just once, I thought I heard a shrill
“Geronimo,” above the general clamor.

I’d been thinking about
drinking something stronger than cider or coffee, but my hands were
full and my purse was locked in Jerry’s car. Nevertheless, I
wandered in the direction of the bar because all the tables nearby
were taken. Fewer people were buying drinks, but there was a short
line and I could see two bartenders in white formal shirts and
black pants and vests disappearing into the room behind them,
returning and filling glasses or opening bottles.

The noise level was
impressive, but everywhere I looked people were smiling, talking
with one another and enjoying themselves. The Ball was definitely a
success so far.

A group of young teenagers
sat on the floor at the far end of the hall, giggling and feeding
each other vegetable sticks. Sunny and Star Leonard were there. I
wasn’t going to horn in on the kids’ fun, but I hoped I’d have a
chance to talk to the girls before the evening was over. I hadn’t
seen them lately.

My eyes moved back to the
bar just as Virginia Holiday reached the front of the line. She was
even more overdressed than usual, with multiple necklaces and
rings. Long multi-colored earrings dangled to her shoulders. She
wore a gold lame, high-waisted dress with asymmetric straps and a
full skirt. It looked vintage rather than modern, but the style
suited what I had come to recognize as her personality. The
necklaces were a mixed collection of strands of colored stones,
carved African wildlife charms, gaudy glass and beads. She always
seemed to think that more was better, and tonight she’d outdone
herself. Her long hair hung loose as always, and a gold silk rose
was pinned above her right ear. I was a bit surprised to see that
she’d ordered a double Scotch, but the bartender apparently thought
nothing of it, filling the order without so much as the blink of an
eye.

There was an empty chair at
the last small table, and I asked the occupants if I might sit
there. While I was eating and getting acquainted with the couple,
and the woman’s mother, who had all driven in from Thorpe, I saw
Alex and Shane from the canoe livery enter the hallway, laughing
and shoving each other playfully. I waved, but they didn’t notice
me. I was glad they’d made it. They must have ridden in the
horse-drawn wagon because I saw them pulling strands of golden
straw from their hi-tech fleece jackets.

There must be over three
hundred people here already
, I thought,
between rounds of small talk. Of course, I didn’t know most of
them, but it surprised me how many people I did know. I was just
finishing the last of my tart when Jerry appeared beside my
chair.

“You need to be in the
ballroom. Soon,” he insisted.

Chapter 46

I excused myself, wishing
Mr. and Mrs. Whatever-They’d-Said a nice evening. I was beginning
to feel pulled in too many directions.

My throat was dry and I
wasn’t willing to continue without something to drink, so I worked
my way back to the food room to find a bottle of water. The
Fannings were no longer seated in the hallway. I pulled a wet
bottle from the tub of ice, grabbed a pile of napkins to keep it
from dripping on my dress and headed for the auditorium, twisting
off the cap and drinking as I went. Every few seconds someone
touched my arm and said hello, or waved or smiled at me. I tried to
return the greetings between gulps.

A square dance was just
beginning. It must have been the second or third one, I’d been gone
quite a while, and one of The Blue Grass members was encouraging
couples who hadn’t yet tried it onto the floor. The space was tight
with so many people, but six squares had formed, and it appeared
that some new dancers were coming away from the walls. Chad and his
friends had decided to try it and were laughing and poking each
other as they took their places. Star Leonard was waiting in one of
the squares with a tall lanky boy I didn’t know. She lifted her
slim legs alternately, as if stretching out for a run. Jerry saw me
enter and headed my way. Over his shoulder, I spied Harold standing
alone. Mavis wasn’t with him.

From the stage I heard the
caller explaining what the phrases of the dance calls meant and
directing the couples to walk through the steps.

Jerry said, “The next
number after this is another waltz. Do you think I should ask Cora
to join me?” He sounded tentative.

I was stunned at his
apparent sudden lack of confidence. “Sure, why not?” I
countered.

“What if she says ‘no?’
Then what could I do next?”

He had a point. “Let me go
talk to her,” I offered.

“Would you do that?” he
asked. He sounded like a small boy hoping his sister would rescue
him from some junior high social crisis.

“Heading that way,” I
assured him, patting his hand.

Cora was still with Tom,
although now she was sitting on a bench beside him. I worked my way
around the edge of the room. The harmonica and fiddle took off with
a blast and the caller cried “All join hands and circle down
south...”

“Hi, Cora, Tom,” I said,
trying to be heard over the music. “I haven’t had a chance to say
hello yet. I hope you aren’t offended.”

Tom shook his head and
yelled, “I can’t hear voices at all in places like this. I’m just
enjoyin’ the music.”

Cora smiled weakly. “Oh,
no. You’re so busy.” Then she must have realized this sounded like
a continuation of her complaints during our last phone call.
“Really. I understand. This is quite the party. You’ve done
something wonderful for the community. Your corsage is quite
lovely,” she added.

“Well, thanks. Working on
the Ball has been rewarding,” I admitted, touching the orchids
lightly and feeling the glow of Jerry’s touch.

“Allemande left in your own
backyard...” came the caller’s voice.

“Have you done any dancing
yet?” I asked her.

“Dancing? Me? With
whom?”

“I can see you and Tom in a
square dance,” I suggested.

She shook her head. “Only
if he learns the calls by heart. He can’t hear the
words.”

“Chicken in a bread pan
pickin’ out dough...” was clearly audible to me above a jangle of
banjo chords. Funny words. No wonder everyone seemed to be
laughing.

“Oh, sorry. That makes
sense.” I paused. “Look, Cora. I have a request from someone who
would like the next waltz with you, if you’re willing. I hope
you’ll say yes. Even if it’s only as a favor to me.”

“Oh? Who’s that?” Cora
looked up at me pertly.

“Meet your honey and pat
her on the head, if she don’t like biscuits then feed her corn
bread,” twanged from the stage.

“Jerry.”

Cora sat quietly, looking
at me. I could tell she was trying to figure this out.

“Why?”

Why? Why,
indeed?

“He’s dating you. He should
dance with you again,” she said with finality.

“It’s true; we’ve spent a
lot of time together getting ready for this event, but you’re one
of the key players too. You’ve brought the judge’s furniture, and
provided the information for the skit. It should be coming up
soon.”

“That’s why I’m here. I’m
just waiting for it,” she interrupted, clipping the
words.

“Let him honor you for your
contribution,” I pleaded.

She shifted on the bench
and smoothed the jumper skirt modestly across her knees. She had
really gone all out, even wearing stockings and low heels. I’d
never seen her in a dress before.

“All right. When you put it
that way, I suppose it would look awkward if I turned him
down.”

The dancers must have
really caught on to the calls because everyone along the walls was
now clapping and stomping their feet in rhythm with the music. With
amplification, the sound was overwhelming, and I was having trouble
concentrating. As I headed back toward Jerry, I glanced up at the
balcony and waved to Mick who was fooling with the sliders on his
control board. Mavis Fanning stood beside him. What was she doing
up there?

The crowd broke into
continuous clapping as I reached Jerry, and the square dance broke
up. Adele stepped to the stage, and the bass player removed a
microphone from a stand and handed it to her.

“There are just five more
minutes to purchase raffle tickets,” she announced. “The first
drawing will be held immediately following the next song. Come on
folks; let’s support the Forest County Animal Shelter. Avery
Edwards, you haven’t bought a single ticket yet.” She pointed at a
heavyset man with a long beard. “I know you have enough money.
Cough some up! The first prize awarded is going to be a haircut,
facial and manicure at the Curly-Q, to be performed by Queenie
herself. The royal treatment. You know Carolyn would like
that.”

Avery partially rose from
his seat on a hay bale, dug in a pocket and waved a bill in the
air, shaking his head and revealing a set of ill-fitting false
teeth as he smiled. Geraldine made a beeline for him, money box and
tickets in hand. I saw other people opening purses and pulling out
wallets.

“You’re all set,” I
whispered to Jerry. “Go ask her.”

He flashed me a look full
of gratitude and began working his way toward Cora. I watched him
bend down to talk to her, and I saw her head nod an affirmative.
They stood side by side. She barely came to his armpit, but somehow
they looked right together.

“All right, folks, let’s
mellow things out a bit with the ‘Tennessee Waltz.’ But I hope no
one here is having their sweetheart stolen tonight. One, two,
three, one, two...” and the couples were swirling onto the
floor.

Cora was quite a good
dancer. She and Jerry had obviously waltzed together before as they
seemed to sense each other’s motions. She wasn’t simply following
his lead with standard steps. I saw him bend down and whisper in
her ear, and snug his long fingers a little tighter around her tiny
waist. I certainly hoped it would soon look as if someone’s
sweetheart had been stolen. I ventured a tentative smile at the
possibility the ruse might actually work.

Chapter 47

The floor was filled with
happy couples, but those who watched from the sidelines seemed just
as pleased. I sensed someone near me and turned to find Harold
Fanning at my side.

“May I have the pleasure of
this dance?” he asked.

I didn’t see that I had
many options, and what could it hurt? “Of course,” I
answered.

Harold faced me and placed
his right hand on my waist while grasping my right hand with his
left. Now face-to-face with him I realized he’d been drinking
enough to smell boozy.

“You are a beautiful woman,
Ana Raven,” he said. I noticed that his words were tending to run
together.

“Thank you,” I answered,
trying to sound as generic as possible. We danced in silence for a
few moments.

“You are a goddam beautiful
woman,” he repeated.

“So is your wife. Where is
she, by the way?” I craned my neck, trying to look around while
staying in step. I was hoping to get out of the mainstream of the
secondhand whiskey fumes, too.