Robert ate another cookie and finished his punch. “Would you like to dance?”
“OK.”
He escorted Laurel to the dance floor. Taking her in his arms, Robert easily fell into the rhythm of a swing dance.
“You're good,” Laurel called over the music.
“I used to do a lot of dancing back home.”
Swing dancing was new and considered daring, but Laurel soon found herself caught up in the music. It was easy to follow Robert's lead. They danced nonstop through four songs.
Out of breath, Laurel asked, “Can we sit the next one out?”
“Sure,” Robert said just as a short, redheaded man bumped into him.
“Watch it!” the man bellowed.
“Sorry.”
A man with a bulbous nose collided with Robert from the other side. Another song began, and he swung his partner in close, peering at Robert through black curls. “Hey, look out where you're going.”
Robert ignored the man, and taking Laurel's arm, headed off the dance floor.
The redhead stepped in front of him.
Robert stopped. “What do you want?”
“We want you to stop being so clumsy.” He laughed, then his smile disappeared and his brown eyes narrowed. In a menacing tone, he said, “Don't much like outsiders. Sure feel a lot better if you all went back where you came from.”
“Look, we're here to have a little fun. Why don't you guys leave us alone?” Robert tried to steer Laurel away from the men, but they walked alongside of them. A tall, skinny man with slicked-back blond hair joined the first two.
“We never wanted you colonists here,” said the redhead. “And since you got here, we want you even less.”
“Yeah,” the tall one said, grabbing the back of Robert's collar. “We don't like you—never have.”
“I don't know you.” Robert shrugged free and glared at the assailant.
“Well, we know you.” His eyes roved over Laurel.
“Leave us alone,” Robert said.
“We'd feel a lot better if you left. Like my friend here said, we don't like you.”
“Many other colonists are here. Why us?”
The redhead sneered. “Cause you're the one we were told to get rid of. We'll get to the others eventually.”
Robert stared at the man. “We're not leaving.”
Laurel laid a hand on his arm. “We can go. It's all right.” Laurel's stomach tumbled. Ray Townsend had to be behind this. If Celeste knew, it would break her heart. “Please, Robert.”
“We're staying.”
Wearing a smirk, the tall blond grabbed Laurel, slid his arm around her waist, and pulled her close. “You can stay, sweetheart.” He tried to kiss Laurel's neck. She wrenched free.
“Keep your hands off her!” Robert roared, taking Laurel's hand.
The man stepped in front of Robert. “You gonna make us?” He grinned, revealing small straight teeth.
“If I have to.”
“Robert, let's just go,” Laurel said. “Please.”
At first he said nothing but continued staring at the man. Finally he said, “All right. We'll go.” Keeping Laurel's hand in his, he led her to the coat closet, helped her on with her coat, then shrugged into his own while Laurel pushed her feet into her boots.
She stood, her heart racing. Glancing about, she asked, “Where did they go?”
“Probably looking for someone else to harass.” He shook his head. “Those kind of guys make me mad. I'd like to … Never mind what I'd like to do. I hate to let them get away with this. It'll just make them worse.” He steered Laurel out the door and down the steps. They rounded the building and headed for the truck.
When they were about twenty feet from the pickup, a familiar voice called, “Hey, leaving so soon?”
Robert and Laurel whirled around. The three hoodlums walked toward them. “Laurel, get in the truck,” Robert said.
Laurel held on to his hand.
“Go,” he whispered.
“No. I'm not leaving you.”
