Page 61 of The Cowboy and the Baby

“I finished sorting through the downstairs living room.” Triumph firmed her voice as she swept her hands toward boxes stacked in the corner. “That will all go to donation, and the garbage bags are bundled up on the porch.”

“That has to feel good.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Yes, I think so. I started on my old bedroom, too. There wasn’t as much, but I couldn’t move the bed and mattress by myself.”

“The boys can get it.”

She chuckled. “They’re busy enough!”

Unable to stop myself, and driven by the memory of holding her hand in the truck two days ago, I closed the space between us. I stopped short of touching her.

“Noelle, will you go on a date with me tonight?”

Surprise touched her gaze. She peered at me, dust on the collar of her flannel shirt, and curiosity in her eyes.

“A date?”

“Dancing,” I tacked on, for good measure.

Cora and I used to go dancing when she was in high school, and it had been years since I returned. For a while, I held a legendary status in this town and several others. Women came from all over so I could fling them around and across the dance floor. I could twirl anyone through that dusty arena and make them breathless, starry-eyed.

Before responsibilities piled up, and a failing ranch fell into my hands.

Noelle’s lips parted with what looked like a shot of surprise and joy, but dimmed as quickly, like she remembered something.

“I would love to. But?—”

“I’ll see if Dagny can watch Lily, or my sister Cora. I know either of them would be happy to help. We can go when Lily is already asleep, if you’re worried about it. I just . . . I know you’re nervous about tomorrow, when the Millers arrive. Maybe this would take your mind off of them. Even for a few minutes.”

The idea was a long shot. Noelle was trusting and wonderful, but I still hadn’t introduced her to Cora and Hawk yet. She’d only met Dagny in passing, although she planned to attend Dagny’s book club in a few weeks. I wouldn’t blame Noelle if she didn’t want to leave Lily with almost-strangers, even if I loved and trusted them.

Noelle glanced around, to the clock, and then the hallway. Determination stole across her features, and she nodded.

“Yes, Cade. I would love to go on a date with you.”

Noelle’s hands fidgeted with the bottom of her coat sleeve as she peered out the window. The Dance-Hall-Slash-Bar parking lot was brimming with cars, and several people had parked along the road. Headlights cut through the darkness, facing toward us, as we sat in the parking lot and peered out. I gave her a few minutes to take it in.

The Dance-Hall-Slash-Bar was more country bumpkin than it was a dance hall or bar, and the marrying of the two dichotomies wasn’t always pretty.

She had a careful nuance to her tone when she asked, “This is the place?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s named?—”

“Dance-Hall-Slash-Bar.”

“That’s the actual name,” she mused with disbelief.

“Literal and figurative. It used to be called The Bar, but locals called it the dance-hall-slash-bar for a long time. When a new owner bought the property and renamed it, it stuck fast. Sort of a local legend, now. Doesn’t look like much on the outside, but you’ll see.” I cranked open the door handle, paused, and said, “Don’t move.”

Noelle blinked her big eyes at me while I slid out, crossed around, and pulled her door open. Her expression melted to understanding.

“Oh. The door?”

I nodded.

“Another facet of your Cowboy Code?”