Leonardo (Romancing the Weavers #5) - Kit Morgan Page 0,32

said, as if it explained everything. “Maybe next year you should dance with someone closer to your age.”

“In Nowhere? Ha!”

She frowned and glanced around the room again. “Well, or here.”

“But we’re all related here.” He looked at Leo and Savannah. “Leo’s lucky, he can spend time with your cousin.”

Parthena felt a pinch of sadness. “Yes, very lucky. One day you’ll meet someone and want to spend time with them.”

He hung his head. “That’s what Mama keeps telling me.” He didn’t sound at all convinced.

She looked at Alastair and Hugh, who looked like prisoners dancing in leg irons. Bella looked like she was leading Hugh, but he wouldn’t take his eyes off his feet and stumbled anyway. “Does she tell your brothers what she tells you?”

“No, just me. They’re younger.”

“I see.” Parthena studied her partner. He was as tall as her, would be taller by the time she visited again – if she visited again. She was having a tough enough time this trip. She’d tried to stay away from Leo, but hadn’t managed it with Savannah dragging her along wherever they went. Leo’s attention was divided between them and he never went past simple pleasantries. They talked of the weather, crops, cattle, harvest time, but nothing of deep meaning.

Why didn’t he ask Savannah what her hopes and dreams were? Why couldn’t he share how he felt about living on the farm? Did he want to travel to far off places, see the world? If he was truly considering Savannah for a wife, shouldn’t they talk of what each wanted out of life? But no, they didn’t go past the things people talked about that they had no real interest in …

She gasped. Could that be it?

“Did I step on your foot?” Thatcher asked.

She blinked. “Er, no. Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.”

“At least you didn’t step on my foot.”

She smiled. “I’m surprised I didn’t.” She glanced at Sebastian, who was on the last sheet of music. She’d better make sure she danced with one of the twins next, so Leo could stay partnered with Savannah.

The music stopped. Bella and Mel clapped and the others were quick to join them. Sebastian stood and took a bow. “Let’s have another,” Bella said.

Sebastian retook his seat as Parthena stepped away from Thatcher, who bolted to the other side of the parlor and hid behind Harlan’s chair. She doubted he’d protect poor Thatcher from having to dance again. She turned around as Sebastian started playing again – and bumped into Leo. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Leo smiled and looked into her eyes. “May I have this dance?”

Chapter Eleven

Parthena’s heart jumped into her throat. No, she couldn’t! But before she knew it, he took her hand in his and led them to the middle of the parlor. She was vaguely aware of Ma Weaver and Harlan following them, along with Gabby and poor Hugh. Thatcher was still using Harlan’s chair as a shield, but Bella was headed his way.

Leo put his hand on the small of her back. “Do you enjoy the waltz?”

Her jaw trembled and a shiver went up her spine. She hadn’t planned this, yet here she was.

“You’re very quiet.” He began to dance.

His statement ook her by surprise. Or was it the feel of his hand on her back, his other clasping hers, that was so enthralling? She took a shuddering breath. “I … I’ve been thinking.”

He looked into her eyes. Oh no, not that! “About what?” His voice was soft, and she could hear him despite the chaos around Harlan’s chair, where Thatcher was complaining that he’d danced enough. She swallowed hard against the pain of … regret? Jealousy? Disappointment? “Nothing.”

Tears stung her eyes even as he stared into them. “Are you sure?”

She didn’t dare blink, for fear she’d cry. This was the closest she’d ever been to him and it was killing her. She noticed everything about him: his scent, his olive skin, his strong hands, his jet-black hair, the way his eyes seemed to sparkle in their darkness. It shouldn’t be like this. He was supposed to be affecting Savannah this way, not her!

“You seem upset about something,” he said, voice just as soft. “Tell me, la mia bella, what is it?”

She stared at him, unable to speak. When she did, she asked the only thing she could think of. “What does that mean?” Though she had a good idea it was some sort of endearment, and it was turning her heart into a pile of mush. So much for being able