A Rich Man for Dry Creek / a Hero for Dry Creek by Janet Tronstad Page B

amusement begin in her eyes and he could feel her relaxing.
    â€œJust see if it doesn’t catch on.” Robert guided her closer so they could waltz. He felt her momentary resistance before she moved toward him.
    â€œI used to love to dance.” Maybe the shadows will hide my apron, Jenny thought to herself as Robert started them on their way.
    â€œEver dip?”
    Jenny shook her head. “And don’t you dare. I’d feel foolish with everyone looking.”
    â€œEverybody’s too busy to care.”
    Jenny looked around at the other couples. It was true. Almost. “The ranch hands are watching.”
    Robert looked at the cluster of men standing by one of the side heaters. Half of them held coffee cups in their hands. A few of them did seem to be looking at him and Jenny, although he’d wager they weren’t interested in her apron. The dismay he saw in the eyes of a couple of them told him they’d been waiting for the coffee passing to stop so they’d have their own chance at a dance with Jenny.
    â€œThey’ll just have to get their own dates,” Robert stated firmly as he gathered Jenny a little closer and inhaled. She smelled of some very pleasing scent. He’d guess cinnamon.
    Jenny almost stumbled. “Date?”
    Robert looked down at her face and smiled. “You. Me. Dancing. That’s a date, isn’t it?”
    â€œBut we can’t be on a date.” Jenny stopped dancing.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œYou’re my boss.”
    â€œI’ve never paid you a dime. You work for my mother.”
    â€œIt’s the same difference,” Jenny sputtered. “Besides—” she hated to sound like her sister, but there it was “—I’m Jenny, the chef, and you’re Robert Buckwalter the Third.”
    â€œYou can call me Bob.”
    â€œWhat?” Jenny hadn’t realized how close Robert had pulled her until she’d stopped dancing.
    â€œBob. Call me Bob.”
    Jenny looked up at him skeptically. He smelled faintly of some expensive aftershave. The tie around his neck was pure silk and probably Italian. His suit had to be hand tailored. “You don’t look like a Bob.”
    Robert gently started Jenny dancing again. He liked the way she felt in his arms. Her head reached his chin. Not too tall. Not too short. Just right. “What does a Bob look like anyway?”
    Jenny was silent a moment. “Plaid shirt. Sneakers.”
    Robert started to chuckle. “I can’t do much about the shirt right now, but I left my sneakers in the bus when we drove over. I could go get them if it’d make you happy. We could both go.”
    â€œIt’s dark out there.”
    â€œThe stars are out.”
    â€œMrs. Hargrove said we’re supposed to stay close to the barn.” Jenny tried to hold on to her propriety.
    Jenny remembered how soft the black sky was outside. Shadows layered over shadows amid the cars and trucks parked in the middle of Dry Creek. The bite of the air would be cold and sharp enough to make the inside of the bus a cozy place to talk. A much too cozy place when all was said and done.
    â€œShe’s just worried about that kidnapping rumor.” Robert watched the temptation play across Jenny’s face. He could watch her for hours. “But only a fool would kidnap anyone in a cold spell like the one tonight. There’s three feet of snow out there in some places.”
    â€œI suppose.”
    Robert noticed the frown didn’t go away. “If you’re worried about me, don’t be. I’m a gentleman. You can trust me.”
    Jenny snapped back to reality. “You’re not a gentleman. You’re the bachelor of the year.”
    Robert came back to reality with her. “I am? Have you talked to your sister? Have they decided?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThe whole thing is cruel and unusual punishment.”
    Jenny nodded. She supposed the waiting and