laugh.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment and not that I’m a joke.” She smiled to take any sting out of her tease and ate her first bite of his stew, heaping compliments on him.
They made small talk between bites. She sopped up the dregs with a hunk of bread and might have licked the bowl if he hadn’t been there. He doled out her next dose of medicine and she meekly took the pills.
“Do you want to go back to bed?” he asked.
It had been months since she’d shared dinner with anyone. It was … nice, and she didn’t want to go back to bed. Alone. “How about I introduce to the brain-rotting pleasure of American TV?”
Even though she knew he had work waiting in the barn, he nodded. “You get the telly on while I feed the beasties.”
By the time he returned, smelling of sunshine and hay, she had one of her favorite sitcoms cued up and was cuddled under a multicolored afghan. His rusty laugh was gratifying. By the second episode, she’d stretched out on the couch, her eyes heavy. His hand covered her foot, his thumb rubbing circles on the arch.
The homey comfortableness of the moment was foreign. Tension flowed out of her and left her in a dreamy state. She wanted to stay awake, but couldn’t. The next thing she knew, she was in his arms, being carried up the stairs and tucked into bed.
Chapter Eleven
With the antibiotics kicking bacteria butt in her body, Anna spent the next two days playing catch-up. She had so many balls in the air, she could have joined the circus. Actually, some days she felt like she was in a circus. Or in a farce. Or maybe in a tragedy. She wasn’t sure how the story would end.
The festival was one piece. Then there was her bid for mayor, the worrisome situation with Gabby hanging like a dark cloud over her, and last but far from least, Iain. He was her biggest worry of all, because she felt in danger from him in a multitude of ways.
Iain had shattered the label of “domineering male” she’d assigned him early on. He was in turns intimidating, gruff, steady, helpful, and sweet. His complicated nature was fascinating to her. Were all men more complicated than Anna had given them credit for?
She pondered the theory a few minutes, but dismissed it. Had to. Because if she went all the way back in her history and applied the theory to patient zero, her father, then assumptions she’d built her life on would rot and collapse. Her father was a “selfish deserter.” It was simple. Maybe she just hadn’t found the appropriate label she could slap on Iain.
Anna opened the studio and went about getting ready for the morning’s classes. The toddler class was its usual brand of chaos and hilarity. After the little gremlins had all been handed off to their parents and caregivers, she changed the music and performed more serious stretches. Her high school girls were next, and as she wouldn’t be competing for first place in the dancing, she wanted one of her girls to take the ribbon.
Keisha was the first through the door. She excelled at all forms of dancing, but had focused on Celtic dancing the past six months. The raw, modern energy she brought to the traditional dances was infectious. Anna wasn’t sure how the judges would react, but the crowd would eat it up.
“Hey, Keisha. Listen, I called Gabby, but she wasn’t exactly Miss Sunshine. Maybe she really is sick.” Anna noted the girl’s unusual seriousness.
Keisha gave a snort. “You really think that?”
“No, but my only other option is to talk to her dad. And he’s scary. You know if he could, he’d ban dancing across the county à la Footloose.”
Keisha barked a laugh. “You and me would lead the dance revolution, wouldn’t we?”
Anna held up her hand for a high five. “Hell yes, we would.”
Keisha slapped her hand and backed away as other girls streamed through the door and began stretching. “You better watch the potty mouth when you go talk to her dad, though, for reals.”
Anna laughed and clapped her hands to get the class’s attention. The hour and a half sped by with the impending performance at the festival looming. When practice was over, Anna fit the remaining costumes on the girls, then retreated to her postage-stamp-sized office as the chatter faded through the doors.
Now that Anna was alone, she opened the top