Page 139 of In These Hills

“I was told it was time to shave it off.”

“Bethie?”

He nodded.

“Remind me to thank that girl.”

He feigned a hurt look.

“Don’t get me wrong. I very much like you with a tamed beard. But this is also nice, Mr. Coburn.”

He smiled in a way that made her wish they were alone again by the creek.

She glanced around. “But are you certain this is proper under the circumstances?”

“Completely. This is Lynchburg, after all. We’re far less formal. Besides, if you haven’t noticed, other men are already eyeing you.”

She looked around and true enough, a few men were looking in her direction.

“Since you’re married,” he continued, glancing at the ring on her left hand, “you’re a safe dance partner. Meaning they don’t have to worry about their attention being misconstrued. Plus, at least to locals, you’re an outsider. They see you as temporary and likely gone soon. So best they enjoy the view close-up while they can.” His grip tightened on her elbow ever so slightly, and she read hope in his eyes—and wanted to believe it. But a thousand-dollar reward felt impossible to outrun. “Lastly, Mrs. Dunham, the simple fact is . . . you are the most stunning woman in the room, and every man in this room knows it.” He glanced toward the dance floor. “Shall we?”

From the pianist at the grand piano, the “Swan Theme” from Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake began to fill the hall as he led her to the dance floor. A little rusty, she discovered him to be a confident and steady lead. It had been years since she’d danced like this, but with each step, she felt the rhythm returning.

Dodge kept a respectable distance between them. Still, just touching him—him holding her right hand, while his other rested lightly on her upper back—made her grateful Mr. Daniel had mandated attendance tonight as her punishment.

Not missing the occasional glance in their direction, she noticed that most people were simply enjoying themselves.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said softly.

“You’re the one who has all the women staring.”

He frowned. “There are other women here?”

She playfully swatted his arm, then swallowed against the sheer magic and unlikelihood of this moment. Being in a ballroom, in Jack Daniel’s home, in Lynchburg, Tennessee—a place she’d never even heard of a month ago, much less could have found on a map—and in the arms of this man. “Thank you for this, Dodge.”

“For what?”

Her eyes watered and it took her a moment to get the words out. “For knowing what you know, and yet still being here. With me. Like this.”

His hand caressed her back. “Josephine Dunham, if we weren’t on a dance floor . . .”

Her breath quickened at the look in his eyes.

“Later, after the party, if you’ll allow me to walk you back, I have some ideas I’d like to share. One, in particular, I hope you’ll say yes to. Let’s just say it has to do with figuring out a way to make you truly disappear, once and for all.”

Whether it was the promise in his eyes or the yearning, bittersweet nature of the melody of the music, she actually started to believe there could be next steps. And with him.

The music gradually ended, and a popular tune—“In the Good Old Summertime”—began. To Josephine’s surprise, Mr. Daniel tapped Dodge on the shoulder and cut in. But she didn’t mind overmuch. She needed a chance to catch her breath.

If she’d thought that dancing with Jack Daniel, who stood slightly shorter than she did, might have come with some awkwardness, nothing could have been further from the truth. He was an excellent dance partner and never missed a beat. The man was in control on the dance floor. Just as he seemed to be in other parts of life. She, on the other hand, had to concentrate to keep up with him.

“I’m glad you came tonight, Mrs. Dunham.”

“I am, too, Mr. Daniel. Thank you for inviting me.”

He smiled, obviously catching her meaning. “Are you surprised to find such elegance in these hills and hollers?”

“No, not at all.”