Jesse let go of her arm. “Now git!” he said before he left her to go back inside.
Lily stared after him for a moment before she gathered her skirts and what was left of her dignity and walked home. As she traversed the dusty path to the farm, her embarrassment turned to anger and a sense of injustice. Lily tried to ignore what else she felt, which was a tingling between her legs. The sting on her bottom was all but gone, but her arousal seemed to grow as the sting faded. The scene replayed itself in her mind—the stern resolve on Jesse’s handsome face, the way he held her arm firmly but not hard enough to hurt, and the stinging swats to her bottom, which hurt plenty.
She couldn’t understand why Jesse hadn’t even given her a chance to prove herself. She knew she wasn’t the most beautiful woman around, but she had a pretty enough face, and her breasts and hips had rounded nicely in the last year. There was no reason for him not to let her try dancing there. She decided that she would go back the following day and confront him, saying just that. Surely he would be convinced of her dedication then, since she was risking another embarrassing spanking for a chance at becoming his employee.
Lily couldn’t stay angry at him for long. By the time the sun had fallen and she’d climbed into bed, her thoughts were once again filled with the sound of his voice, his smile, and the kindness he’d shown her three years ago when she met him, a day she’d never forget.
Lily sat on a bench outside of the blacksmith’s shop, crying softly. A man approached and looked at her as he lifted his hand to the door handle. He moved his hand to his hip and turned to face her.
“What’s the matter, little lady?”
She took in a shuddering breath. “Nothing, mister. Don’t worry about me.” She thought her answer would be enough to keep him from inquiring further, but he pressed her for a reason.
“Most folks don’t cry about nothing. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She looked up at him tentatively, unused to anyone caring about whether she cried. His eyes were fixed on her in a kind way. How was she to explain to a stranger what made her sad, when she didn’t fully understand it herself? At the tender age of fifteen, she felt the loneliness of an aimless wanderer. No one seemed to notice her. She didn’t have any friends since Sara had spread a rumor that she kissed boys on the lips. Her parents acted like she was an inconvenience they couldn’t wait to be rid of. In short, she felt unloved.
“It’s just, I feel unimportant, I guess.”
“Now that’s outright nonsense. Everyone’s important.” He reached over and wiped a tear off her cheek, then tapped her under the chin. “Cowboy up, honey. Everyone feels that way sometimes. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
Lily wiped the rest of her tears off her face with the backs of her hands. She didn’t correct him, though she was pretty sure he was wrong and she would feel just as bad tomorrow. “Thank you,” she said, grateful that he cared enough to listen to her and offer some small words of comfort.
“Aren’t you the saloon owner?” she asked after a final sniffle, rising to her feet. She’d seen him around town before but had never talked to him. He was a tall, handsome man who walked with a limp. According to gossip, it was due to a mining injury. His limp didn’t seem to prevent women from swooning all over him. She’d seen him with more than one pretty lady on his arm.
“That I am. I’m here to see the blacksmith about fixing my poker table. He does carpentry work in addition to blacksmithing.”
She smiled shyly at him. “Yes, I know. He made a new rolling pin for my ma. I’m here to pick it up.”
He observed her for a moment. “I’ve a mind to give you a hug, little lady. Seems you could use one. May I?”
She felt surprised but immediately smiled and nodded. “All right.” Her smile got a little brighter when he wrapped his arms around her. She melted into his embrace and wished that the hug would last a lot longer than it did. For those few glorious seconds, she felt noticed and like someone cared about her.
When he released her, she said, “Thank you, Mister…”
“Jesse,” he replied.
“Thank you, Mr. Jesse. I’m Lily.”
He chuckled. “No need to thank me, Miss Lily. I hate to see a pretty lady cry. You take care now.” He tipped his hat and walked inside the blacksmith’s shop. Lily forgot about her ma’s rolling pin and ran off. He hugged her! And he thought she was pretty!
By the time she reached the farm, she’d decided that she loved him and always would. She knew she wasn’t old enough to marry him yet, but as soon as she turned eighteen, she’d make sure to find herself in his arms again, somehow, someway. Never had she longed for anything as much as she longed to feel Jesse’s touch and hear his kind voice directed at her again.