Instead of answering, he went to pour water on the still smoldering bonfires. Convinced she had imagined the endearment, she moved through the tables, blowing out lanterns and moving flower pots to a sheltered spot beside the church steps.
“Ready to join the others?” Kris held out his hand as he approached.
Maggie matched his smile and took his hand. “Will you dance with me, Reverend?” Laughter bubbled out of her when Kris wrapped her close and turned them in a circle. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Your laughter is another thing that’s beautiful about you.” Kris leaned close, and, for an instant, Maggie thought he would kiss her. Hoped he would kiss her. But instead, he bowed gallantly over her hand, tucked it around his arm and led her toward the schoolhouse.
“Have you always had a dance to finish off Easter?”
Kris waved to a wagonload of revelers leaving the dance. “This is only the second year for the Social, so, no, we haven’t. The ladies insisted the dance must take place on the first Saturday of April as they were beginning a tradition that could be carried on for generations. Last year, it wasn’t a problem since Easter was later in the month.
“When we realized the dance would be held the night before Easter Sunday this year, the other church leaders and I asked to combine the festivities. The ladies agreed, and I think it has been a successful day.”
“It truly has been,” Maggie agreed. “I think the children especially enjoyed it. They should sleep well tonight.”
“And dream of brightly colored eggs and sugared nuts.” Kris led Maggie uphill toward the center of town, around a corner, and into a party. Music and people spilled out of the schoolhouse into the street. Men clustered together, glasses of punch or beer in their hands. Kris wove through them, acknowledging greetings as they made their way inside. Here the crowd was merry—and loud. Children scampered around the room, dodging dancers and the parents pursuing them.
“I guess they aren’t as worn out as I thought.” Maggie laughed, stopping suddenly to avoid a small girl in light blue calico, her blonde braids bouncing as she chased after an older boy, squealing with delight.
“That little whirlwind is Jericho and Mary’s youngest daughter, Carolina.” Kris offered Maggie a glass of punch. “Her older sister, Virginia, is serving cake.” He indicated a lovely blonde standing behind a table with a long line of young men waiting their turn.
“Does Jericho realize his oldest daughter is the center of so much attention?”
Kris lifted his cup in the direction of the far wall where Marshal Hawken stood watching his daughter, arms crossed over his chest, his badge reflecting the lantern light. “He’s aware.”
Another girl, who bore a resemblance to the beauty serving cake, but without the ethereal elegance, stopped in front of Kris. Though her arms were thin and her movement not quite coordinated, Maggie knew she’d soon grow into her huge blue eyes and too-long nose.
“Hello, Pastor Oltmann. I’ve come to claim my dance.”
“Good evening, Miss Georgia. Miss Flanaghan, may I introduce Jericho and Mary’s middle girl, Georgia?”
“I know about you,” the girl interrupted. “I’m sorry about your pa. I lost mine, too, not too long ago.”
Maggie steeled herself for the stab of grief. “Thank you, Georgia. I’m glad to meet you.”
Kris turned to Maggie. “Will you excuse me? I promised Miss Georgia the first dance this evening if she finished learning her scriptures for this morning’s service.”
Maggie smiled, remembering. “You did a fine job, Miss Georgia. Have a good time.” Taking Kris’s empty glass, she moved off to the side of the room where she could watch.
Their difference in height made dancing seem a bit awkward, but Kris bent a little at the waist to bring him closer to his partner, whose face showed intense concentration as she counted her way through the steps. A couple of times, he tugged Georgia out of the way of others as they bounded down the floor in a spirited reel, but Maggie could tell the girl had been practicing.
As the music came to a close, Kris whirled Georgia in a tight circle and her laughter spilled out, making those nearby grin in response. As he bowed and she curtsied, Jericho Hawken tapped Kris’s shoulder and took his place, spinning the girl into the next dance with a flourish.
Kris was stopped several times on his way back to Maggie, the genuine smiles and frequent laughter telling her he was liked and respected by the people of River’s Bend. When he finally reached her side, the musicians introduced a waltz. Couples lined up, waiting for the signal to begin.
“Dance with me,” Kris whispered in Maggie’s ear.
“What? I don’t know—”
“I do. I’ll show you.”
“But my hip…”
“I’ll be careful. Trust me, Maggie.”
Without waiting for her agreement, Kris lifted her right hand in his left, placed her left hand at his right shoulder, took a firm but proper grip of her ribcage, and began swaying in time to the music.