Love on the Line - Deeanne Gist [94]
A slow smile formed on his face as he tucked his military cap into the back of his waistband and replaced it with the feminine piece of frippery, securing the ties beneath his chin. His buddies roared.
“Well, I’ve got me a fine hat for tonight’s dance, fellas,” he boomed. “But what I don’t have is a gal I can give it to.” He paused, giving meaningful looks to the girls he favored. “But if’n I could persuade one of these lovely ladies to accompany me tonight, I might be talked into lettin’ her take my prize home for safekeepin’.”
Bettina immediately stepped forward. “I’ll go with ya. But I don’t want yer hat. You can give it ta my friend, Miss Georgie.”
Daniel’s teammates broke into another round of hilarity, but the cadet was not to be put off. Tweaking Bettina’s cheek, he winked. “That’s a mighty tempting offer, miss, but I’m afraid you’re a bit too short to serve as a suitable dancing partner.” He ran his gaze over a young woman closer to his age. “Might there be another interested party?”
The entire group of spectators held their breath. Taking him up on his offer would be nothing short of scandalous, but the hat looked ridiculous on him and sang a siren’s song to the girls.
Shrugging, Daniel turned to Mrs. Lee. “Well, looks like it’ll be me and my hat going to the ball. Such a shame, too, for—”
“I’ll go.”
Daniel spun around, the hat a second behind and falling to the side. The young lady stepped forward, a vision in her white frilly dress and dark brown hair.
As Daniel pushed the hat up into place, his Adam’s apple bobbed. His friends stared in stunned silence.
Still, it didn’t take long for the cadet to recover. Straightening, he untied the hat, placed it on the lady’s head, tied it in a tight boy’s bow, then stepped back. “Miss Grant, would you care to join me at the dance?”
“It would be my pleasure, Mr. August.” Joheather Grant, the daughter of a new phone subscriber west of town, laid her hand on his arm.
All parted to let them through. Just before clearing the crowd, he slanted a victorious glance at his friends, all with comical expressions of shock.
Georgie sighed. Luke flashed her a glance. What a romantic she was. Again, he felt a pang of guilt about her hats. Some way or another, he’d have to make it up to her.
“Sorry, Mr. Luke,” Bettina barked, her legs straddled, arms akimbo. “I done tried.”
“And it was a valiant try, missy. Thank you.” He placed a hand on his stomach. “Did you hear that? My stomach is growling something fierce. Where’s the best place to find supper, do you think?”
“Them ladies over yonder been cookin’ up a storm all day. I’d go there if’n I was you.”
Frowning, he nodded. “I thought about that, but I’ve noticed Miss Georgie doesn’t clean her plate the way she ought.”
Bettina’s eyes widened. “She don’t?”
“Nope. And I don’t like wasting good coin on food which doesn’t get eaten.”
The girl scratched her jaw. “Well, that’s a problem, then.”
“I have an idea,” Georgie said. “What if Bettina and I shared a plate?”
“Well, now. There’s an idea.” He looked at Bettina. “You think you could help me out again? It’d only be through supper; then you’d be free to go back and do whatever it is you had planned.”
Slipping her hands in her pockets, she pretended to consider it. “Well, I reckon I could. But after supper you’re gonna be on yer own. I can’t be holdin’ yer hand all night, you know.”
He bit back a smile. “I understand.” He extended a hand in an after-you gesture. “Lead the way.”
The girl marched toward the concession booth, arms swinging, hair bouncing.
Georgie slipped her hand through his elbow, leaned into his arm, and mouthed a thank you.
Smiling, he followed Bettina at a more sedate pace.
Chapter Thirty
Instead of reviving her, supper made Georgie sleepier than ever. She’d only snatched a bit of slumber the night before. Surely Luke couldn’t be much better off.
But if he were tired, he gave no sign of it.
The pavilion had been cleared of its chairs, leaving its polished