Love In a Small Town (13 page)

Gratefully she accepted his arm for the walk across the parking lot to the convention center, curling nervous fingers around his sleeve, feeling regal as they passed through the front doors.

At the hospitality desk inside, David surrendered his tickets and was handed two cards, each bearing their name and business, and two plastic holders.

Lindsay smiled ruefully as she assembled the tags and pinned one on David, noticing that it read, David G. Martin, CFA, Investments, then stood patiently as he attached hers to her gown. "Do you get a nametag when you attend a chamber dance in the big city?"

"No. Nobody cares who you are, nor do they want to know, unless you're important enough to do them some good. There's a lot to be said for small towns. Here people care."

The convention center lobby was filled with an impressive crowd, gathered in casual, conversational groups, waiting patiently to enter the dining room. Soft music from a trio played as the partygoers greeted each other. Short bursts of laughter erupted occasionally, above the murmur of sound. Lindsay surveyed the breathtaking display—the color and glitter of the women's gowns against the stark black and white of the men in formal dress. She was glad that she had taken so much time with her appearance. Her nerves settled and her confidence grew as David put her hand on his arm and led her toward the crowd.

Everyone here knew she hardly ever attended these events, so she was prepared to endure endless expressions of surprise, and reminders from the avidly curious that she never came to chamber functions. Naturally, they'd want to know about David. She hoped he'd withstand the scrutiny graciously.

Smile, she reminded herself. Mingle good-humoredly. You can do this.

"David. Good to see you, man. Hello Lindsay." Fred Barton, President of Eureka Springs's only bank, greeted David as though he were an old friend, and barely gave her a glance.

"Martin, glad to see you could make it." Phil Holder, President of the school board, came up to shake David's hand. "Hello, Lindsay, didn't know you knew David." Again, barely a nod. "Say, we've saved places for you at our table. Some other people you should meet."

David put a hand on Phil's shoulder, companionably, and said, after an amused wink at Lindsay, "I appreciate it. We'll be there, Phil. Lindsay has some friends she wants to introduce." He took her elbow firmly and led her away.

Too stunned to react, she struggled to adjust to the idea that her presence was hardly noticed while her date was apparently going to be the important guest of the evening.

"Close your mouth, Lindsay." He gave her a knowing look. "So, I've met a few people since I moved here. Actually, I think everybody knew who I was the first day. You can't be too touchy about privacy when you move to a small town."

"I'll admit I'm surprised," she said. "I expected to spend the evening explaining who you are or, even worse, explaining why I'm here." David's questioning look demanded an explanation. "The town knows I never come to things like this. I'm practically a social recluse. You know my reluctance to date, so don't look surprised. Frankly, I expected a lot more comments when I showed up on the arm of a great-looking man."

The intense speculation on his face as he considered her remark would have done credit to a bird dog. Her insecurity must be in plain sight.

"You don't give yourself enough credit. I'm the subject of the gossip. New guy, here hardly a month, gets town's most beautiful woman, who never dates, to go out with him. It'll be the lead story in this week's newspaper. That should put us on a friendlier basis. Okay if I start calling you Lynn? Lindsay is a bit formal if we're going to be friends."

Her laugh and nod of approval delighted him. "C'mon. I'll find us something to drink and we can mingle."

Oh boy, she was definitely in trouble here. Not only was she attracted to this guy; but also he was getting to her deep down.
Watch out, girl.

She grew more impressed with him during dinner, as he put everyone at ease. The men sought his advice on financial matters and Phil Holder even suggested he consider running for the school board.

Throughout it all, his attention to her needs never wavered. He was so at ease and in control that the circulating wait staff took to glancing his way for direction. She barely took a drink of water and a waiter was there with a pitcher to refill. Her salad plate was whisked away the instant she laid down her fork. When the main course was served, her plate was the first on the table. The envious looks sent her way from the other diners delighted her. Never had she felt so treasured.

Apparently, he was no stranger to protocol, either. He danced with each of the other four women at the table before he came to her. The look in his eyes as he took her hand and pulled her to her feet, promised that there would be many evenings like this.

The moment she'd dreaded had arrived. Not sure she remembered how to dance, but too embarrassed to explain, knowing she'd look like a fool in front of people whose respect she valued, nevertheless she accepted his invitation.

He must have felt her uncertainty. Leading her to the crowded dance floor, he whispered, "I'll take care of you. Trust me."

Oddly enough, she did, placing her hand on his shoulder as he took her in his arms.

"How many years has it been since you danced?"

"How about my middle school prom?"

He laughed. His affectionate glance stilled her heart. Curling his fingers around her left hand, he steadied her with his right in the small of her back. "That long? How about we just stand here and sway a little, until you get used to being in my arms and adjust to the feel of my body? The music is slow, and it's too crowded to do more than that, anyhow." He made it sound like an assignation.

The sensation of being held, the closeness, the fact that he was bigger and stronger than she, conjured a host of memories. As panic started to unfurl in her gut, she stiffened, her heart beating rapidly.

"Hey, easy. What's happening here? Did I do something to offend you?" He stroked her back gently, and brought her hand to his mouth, brushing it with a soft kiss. "Lynn, there's no need to be worried. I don't expect anything from this evening except some easy company."

The realization of what he implied jolted her back to reality. Shame brought heat to her cheeks. What must he think of her—that she was some repressed spinster, terrified of sex, afraid of men?

Well, duh. That's exactly what he thinks. Okay, maybe it's time to get rid of old habits and join the normal crowd. I'm tired of being considered a man-shy spinster.

Determinedly, she relaxed, forcing herself to allow her head to touch his chin, hoping to affect some damage control.

"I'm sorry." She tried making light of her behavior. He deserved some honesty. "I'm afraid you've got yourself a neurotic mess for a date. You're kind, considerate, and a wonderful companion for the evening. I'm reacting to something that happened a long time ago and should be behind me, by now. That isn't fair to you. Please, can we just forget and start over?"

"Okay by me." His calm voice reassured her, but she knew he didn't consider this conversation finished by far. "You can relax now."

She realized they'd been simply standing there, not dancing, really. The devilish look in his eye warned her something was coming.

"How about you move your left foot back a little and I'll follow it with my right foot? Then we'll try the same thing with the other foot and see if we can't end up doing a little dancing."

Her peal of laughter brought smiles to the faces around them. A quick hug, a little buss on the forehead, and he restored the proper space between them.

For the rest of the evening she enjoyed herself, aware that if David Martin were so inclined, he could hold an important place in her life. She could learn to love this man.

The dance ended close to midnight, with Lindsay relaxed and happy. It had been a wonderful evening. The food was surprisingly good, the conversation lively, and David everything a woman could want in a companion.

While she stood outside, waiting for him to bring the car around, she realized that she wasn't ready to go home. The Jag purred to a halt beside her.

"What do you say to going for a drive?" he asked, as he got out to open her door. "Out to the lake, maybe?"

"I'd love it. I've always wanted to ride in a convertible at night, with the top down. Can we? The weather's so balmy and the moon is so bright, it'll be beautiful."

"Absolutely." He pushed a button, gears whirred, accomplishing the task.

As he held the door for her, she remarked, "I've never seen a car quite this color of purple."

"When I had it restored, I sent an eggplant to the shop to be sure they got it right."

She laughed delightedly, and then remained silent for the ten minutes it took to reach the lake, marveling at how unafraid she felt. Anxieties from the past evaporated into the balmy night air, leaving behind a sigh of contentment.

"At the risk of arousing suspicions as to my intentions," David began, a whimsical tone to his voice, "I'll take a chance, and suggest we stop for a few minutes so we can just talk. I want to know you better, Lindsay, especially after the rocky beginning we've had."

She sighed. "I've really messed up, haven't I? You think that I don't trust you, when what I feel is impatience for my paranoia and myself. Please, let's stop and talk."

They pulled into a turn-off that offered a perfect view of the moon on the water.

Lindsay spoke first. "I had a wonderful time tonight." She couldn't resist adding, "Imagine. We didn't argue about anything the entire evening—not even eggplant."

"That must mean we've passed some sort of milestone in this relationship. Have we established enough trust for you to tell me why you shy away from any closeness? Is it me, or do you go all stiff and wary with anyone who holds you while you dance?"

She caught her breath. She didn't discuss intensely personal matters with even her long-time friends, but feelings for David had grown too deep to withhold an explanation. She demanded truth from her friends. She owed him the same.

"This is difficult. I don't usually talk about it because it makes me sound so pathetic. I'm not that scared female so willing to be victimized now. I don't know how to begin."

"One word after another works for me." His voiced coaxed gently.

Better to get it over with.
"I was married once, for about a week, right out of high school."

"That's it?"

"No, that's not it." Her voice started to shake. She had to get through this. "Adolescent infatuation turned into a nightmare. We graduated from high school that week, madly in love, or so I thought. He was an athlete, the most popular guy in school." Scorn graveled her voice. "Me? Homely, nerdy Lynn, the girl nobody wanted. I had few friends and was pretty much alone. It's tough when you're not accepted."

David smiled, encouraging her. "Yeah, I can understand that."

"God, I was so thrilled he noticed me—so pathetically grateful, and so dumb. I was in love. He was in lust. We dated and he wanted to… you know … and I never had. I wasn't raised to accept sex without marriage. My mother had definite ideas about that."

"I take it he didn't go along with your views on the matter." David's voice, filled with such compassion, prompted her to laugh bitterly.

"Oh, yeah, I was so afraid he'd break-up with me. Not want to be with me anymore. He wanted to run away and get married without telling anybody. I knew my mother would never approve, but I was so thrilled and so in love."

Her voice echoed her regret. "There's no waiting period in Arkansas, so we got married. To him it was a game. He just wanted sex. I should have known."

"Ah, Lindsay." Compassion poured over her like warm rain. He took her hand. "I'm going to guess that when the sex finally happened, it didn't live up to your expectations?" He tried to ease her pain, but she was caught in the nightmare.

"It gave new meaning to the word 'rape.'" She shuddered with acidic self-loathing. "I was so young and so dumb. It didn't end there."

Words flowed like a torrent rushing toward a waterfall. "He brought me back to town, battered and hysterical. We went straight to his house, to his mother. She was furious—at me, if you can believe it. I had trapped her dear boy with my whoring ways.

"I couldn't call my mother to tell her about the marriage. They said if she came to the house they'd have her arrested, and I believed them. Lord, I can't believe I fell for that. I was so dumb. I didn't know anything."

"Damn." His expletive stopped her. "Where is the bastard now? I'd like to beat the shit out of him."

She managed a grateful smile. "I'm sorry to ruin your evening, but you asked, and I have to finish the story so you'll understand why I'm still a little uneasy around men."

After a deep breath, she continued. "I couldn't get away. I guess you could say I was a prisoner and terrified of both of them, by then. The abuse lasted for two days. His mother didn't interfere at all, but the neighbors knew what was going on."

"Ah. That small-town magic, again."

"They called my mother, and she called the police. Boy, when I saw her come to that house, roaring mad, with backup, it was the best day of my life.

"My mother was a strong woman. Nobody messed with her, and for sure nobody messed with her child. She yanked me out of there, had him arrested for assault, his mother for aiding and abetting and they both spent the night in jail.

"At the judge's suggestion, he joined the Army to avoid prosecution, and she moved away. Not quite the end of the story. Six months later he was killed in a fight at Ft. Leonard Wood, where he had been jailed for desertion."

She paused. "I've never told the whole story to anyone except my mother, but you're easy to talk to. Since then, I've avoided getting involved with men."

"Ten years is a long time to keep that inside you."

His neutral voice, not judging her, gave her the courage to continue. "Ever since that marriage I've been an emotional cripple. I've not dated much. If the guy gets too close, I freeze up. Time I got over it."