“I too heard something of that. Unfortunately—” Beti responded.
“I love to dance!” Charity Edwards shined her excitement at Thomas.
Thomas glanced at his sister.
“We do not dance,” Alice stated quietly.
“I would be only too happy to teach ye.” Miss Edwards never took her eyes off Thomas.
“Miss Alice is saying that they choose not to dance.” Aggie leaned around Beti to make herself heard.
Miss Edward’s eyes rounded in surprise, and her cheeks flamed crimson. “I do hope ye will accept my apology, Miss Swift.”
“No apology required. I am sure I do not expect everyone to be aware of our beliefs.”
“Well, I am sure ye couldn’t. I mean whoever heard of lady preachers? And yet here ye are.”
The conversation flowed between the two women across Thomas who took the occasional bite and leaned back to stay out of the way.
Zeke seized the opportunity. “What do ye find unfortunate about dancing, Miss Sigridattir?”
“Only that I do not dance very well. I know a few steps taught to me by Rosalee, my mother’s maid.”
“I should like to have the opportunity to stand up with ye this evening.”
He saw the answer in her eyes before she responded. The acceptance he saw there baffled and warmed him at the same time. “I would be delighted to dance with ye, Mr. Smith.”
“Unfortunately…” He looked down at his leg.
Her cheeks blossomed. “I am dreadfully sorry—”
“Think nothing of it.”
“It is just that I forget—” she stumbled. She put her hand across her mouth. That drew his eye to those lips. Rosy lips that he’d like to touch with his own.
Twelve
Beti felt desire ignite as Zeke looked into her eyes and then down to her lips. Sound fled the room. Flusters not born of pure mortification ran crossways throughout her midsection and her mind. The sensations he caused were unlike anything she’d ever felt but not unpleasant.
He cleared his throat. Her senses flooded with smells of warm stews and leather. Children shifting, arguing, and giggling. She ate her stew while ruminating on thoughts filled with what it would be like to be held in the arms of Hezekiah Smith.
Fiddle strings winding and plucking into tune sent a ripple of promise through the room as the last plates were cleared and tables moved to the side. Beti found a secure tie-off for her loom next to Zeke’s stool and sat down to enjoy the music while finishing up the tape she’d woven all day.
Dancing commenced before she’d beat the next row into the warp. The thump of shoes and the cheerful tune caught her attention. The gowns were of the plainest browns, and yet the joy and laughter of the set must surely be as gay as any real dance party. Beti had never actually been to a real party of dancing, but she imagined they were filled with laughing ladies dressed in glorious bright colors. Each lady in a color that suited her best. And yet, these ladies and their gentleman too, wore the most becoming smiles punctuated with the confidence that each was wanted. That they belonged just where they were and to whom they danced with. All except for Charity Edwards.
She alone danced with a man not her husband, and yet her confidence shown through. She did belong here and expected with certainty that she would have a man of her own. A family.
Aggie then stood up with one of Gordon’s boys.
“Those boys are taken with Aggie.” Zeke sat on his stool.
“Aye. I think they are not the only ones.” Zeke followed Beti’s nod. His eyes widened. A slow grin creeped across his face as he watched Gordon who kept his focus on Aggie.
“It matters not.”
Beti glanced up from her work. “Do ye think she does not like him?”
“I know she told us that she would not have any of us.”
“When did she say that?”
“The day we set out.” Beti kept her steady gaze on him hoping he would tell her more. “She overheard Mose say that one of us was going to have to marry her.”
“He did not.”
Zeke chuckled. “He did. And she overheard. She pointed around to all of us and said she would never marry any of us.”
Beti chuckled. She could picture her friend pointing at them and telling them in no uncertain terms that they were mistaken. “Of course, she did. And rightly so.”
“What do ye mean? It’s a hard land out there, Miss Sig—”
“Call me Beti.” Somehow she was going to have to tell him her real name.
Zeke’s eyes widened again. “—Miss Beti. I think ye underestimate the hardships ye will face as an unmarried woman out there.”
A serious weight settled over the lightness in her spirit. “Have ye heard anything specific?”
