My Hands Hold My Story (Rough Draft)

Chapter Seventeen

Two gentleman passed in front of me, and I lost sight of my step sister. Confused, I tried to find her again. How had she gotten from the ranch here? Did Father know she'd come?

Questions filled my head, but I was quickly distracted. Someone's fingers curled around my arm and pulled my around. "Miss Steele," Mr. John Dover said, his face near mine. I could smell beer on his breath and it turned my stomach. "Come dance."

Clearly, he didn't have the sensitivity that Remy did. I shook my head and tried to pull away. He only tightened his grip. "I insist," he said.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Remy shift closer. However, he didn't say anything. It only took me a moment to realize what he was doing, and my respect for him only grew. He was allowing me to make the decision for myself, and merely being close to back me up on my choice.

"No thank you, sir," I said, signing the words out of habit.

A muscle in Mr. Dover's jaw twitched and his eyes narrowed slightly. His dark hair was oily and smoothed back. "Miss Steele, I...not take no for...answer."

"I said no!" This time, I was certain my voice was louder than before. Men and women standing nearby all turned towards us. Blood rushed to my cheeks as I realized we were causing a scene. "Please let go of me."

This time, Remy stepped forward and wrapped his hand around Mr. Dover's wrist. My escort forced the man to let go of me and pushed him away. If he said anything, I didn't see it. All I knew that more people were staring at us.

Sheriff Worth was suddenly in between Remy and Mr. Dover, and Simon was at my side. Now there could be no doubt that we were the center of attention. Even the couples dancing had come to a halt.

Mr. Dover held his hands up, a sneer on his face. Though I expected him to retaliate or say something, he spun on his heel and walked away.

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The sheriff waved his hands and everyone who had been watching the scene moved away. My embarrassment and dismay didn't lessen, though. Remy had brought me to the dance to have fun and I didn't want to ruin that for him or for anyone else.

Remy's fingers linked with mine and he gave a slight, reassuring squeeze. I forced a smile as I focused on him. A hand waving on my right made me turn toward my brother. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

At the same time, the reverend's wife came toward us. Heavens, I would continue to be the center of attention if everyone kept asking me how I was. Mr. Dover hadn't even touched me.

"I am fine," I signed and said so that there would be no doubt. All I wished was that everyone would put it behind them. Yes, it happened and because I hoped it wouldn't happen again it wasn't something I could ignore completely.

With a slight smile, as though he understood my feelings, Remy stepped away from me. When he rejoined me, he held the glasses of punch that he'd been retrieving before Mr. Dover had made a scene. With relief, I took one of the glasses and sipped the liquid, wrinkling my nose at the slightly woody taste beneath the fruit.

What was in the punch?

I watched as Remy took his first sip and his eyebrows went up. He sent a glance towards the reverend's wife and said something. The woman's eyes widened with what could only be horror and she rushed away.

Beside me, Simon bent over in laughter and I wondered what the joke was. Remy gestured to get my attention and then took my glass from my hand. He hurried away with it, which made me frown. I was still thirsty.

Recovering himself, Simon straightened himself and stepped closer. He put his arm around my shoulders and began to watch the dancers. Breathing out, I focused on everyone in the barn. There was bound to be enough to keep me well occupied until I could dance again.