She’d essentially admitted that she couldn’t make love, which was a damn shame. Not only was she beautiful, she was smart, accomplished, dynamic. And now that she’d had a drink and was laughing and talking more freely, he was starting to like her—probably more than he cared to. It wasn’t fair that she would be denied such an important and fulfilling part of life.
“So this is the best you can do?” She was talking to Shorty, who owned The Moosehead and had just handed her a new drink. A small, wiry man in his late fifties, he was one of Amarok’s favorite people and had been since Amarok was a kid. He’d started flirting with Evelyn the moment she sat down, but he was going about it so outrageously that Amarok could tell she wasn’t feeling threatened.
“A drink doesn’t get any better,” Shorty insisted.
“I’ll decide that for myself once I taste it,” she teased and nudged Amarok. “What do you think? Do you like it?”
“I think he just made it up,” Amarok said. “Because I’ve never heard of a Wild Bill.”
“Then you have to try it.” She held out her glass to him, something he was fairly certain a completely sober Evelyn would not have done.
He took a sip. “Can’t say as it does much for me. I prefer a decent beer.”
She finally sampled it herself. “I like it,” she said. “I like it a lot.”
As the night progressed, various townspeople came over and Amarok introduced her. Most nodded politely, then watched her with a wary reserve. But the more she drank and opened up, the more they did the same.
Before too long she seemed to be having a great time. Amarok got the impression she hardly ever let go, that this was an unusual but much-needed release, and was glad he’d brought her—until Ken Keterwee, who owned a well-drilling and septic tank business, asked her to dance. Amarok had seen him standing off to one side, trying to screw up the courage, and had planned to head him off before he could reach her. But Ken, a big, barrel-chested man of about forty, with hands the size of bear paws, had made his move while Amarok was distracted by something Shorty had said. So Amarok was a little late when he jumped in.
“Not tonight, Ken,” he said.
“I wasn’t asking you,” Ken joked.
Before Amarok could reinforce his “no,” Evelyn got off her stool. The stubborn smile she wore let him know she was determined to rise to the challenge he’d given her by bringing her here.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I-I can dance.”
She’d told him she couldn’t, so Amarok knew she’d feel more secure staying with him, here at the bar. The floor was fairly crowded, which meant she’d get jostled, and once Ken and some of the other guys got a few drinks in them, they might not think about what she’d been through and how the most innocent physical contact could affect her. At the very least, Ken would probably step on her feet a few times with those big cowboy boots of his. “Maybe you can get on the floor next time you come here for a drink,” he said to her, but she waved him off and allowed Ken to lead her away.
Because he’d promised to be her designated driver, Amarok limited himself to a single beer as he watched. She seemed to do fine with Ken. She seemed to do fine when Johnny Milner, a butcher, asked her to dance after, and then Jim Studemeyer, who built cabins and bungalows and had built hers. It wasn’t until a slow song came on that she threw him a glance filled with any hint of distress. Then he knew she’d had enough of socializing with her new friends and strode out to rescue her so that she wouldn’t have to say no herself.
“Whoa, boys, I bet Evelyn’s head is spinning,” he said, pulling her away before Ken could get his beefy arms around her. “We’d better let her sit down for a bit.”
“What the hell, Amarok?” Ken complained. “I’ll buy you a drink if you’ll just leave us alone and go back to the bar.”
“I am going back to the bar, and I’m taking Evelyn with me,” he said. But they’d only gone a few steps when she tugged on his hand.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
She didn’t answer. Curving her lips into a sweet smile, she slipped her arms around his neck as if she wanted to dance with him.
“You suck,” Ken grumbled in his ear as he passed them in search of another partner.
Amarok ignored Ken. At the moment, he had other things on his mind, like how surprised he was that Evelyn had wanted to dance with him when she wouldn’t dance with anyone else. “Just say the word when you want to stop,” he told her.
“Okay.”
They moved in silence for a few seconds. Then she said, “So how am I doing? Do you think they like me?”
He could see a number of men standing along the periphery, waiting impatiently to replace him. “There’s no question the men do. I can’t imagine their wives will, though.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“Never mind. It was a joke.”