Harry on the Prairie

Chapter 23

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I felt guilty for teasin' y'all with the picture chapter earler, so... ILYSM. Please vote and comments make my heart go pitter-pat!

TWITTER: @styles_orama

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Could I have this dance
for the rest of my life?
Could you be my partner
every night?
When we're together
it feels so right.
Could I have this dance
for the rest of my life?

--Anne Murray

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HARRY:

Frankie clasps her hands together and bats her eyelashes just to annoy me. "Ooh, I can't wait to be serenaded!"

"Well, you're gonna have to wait quite awhile for somethin' like that to happen," I huff and take a seat on a hay bale to watch the festivities. I hold out my palm in Niall's general direction, "Niall, gimme another swig of that moonshine. Will ya?"

My palm remains empty, and I raise my head to see Niall and Soph already scootin' across the dance floor together. I turn to Frankie in surprise, just as she nods to accept a dance request from Reverend Payne. That rat bastard.

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HARRY:

The shock of that sonofabtich dancin' off with my woman throws me for a loop. A big one. I wanna punch his lights out, but instead I sit there stewin' in the juices of my own jealousy. Every spin they take in my direction makes me snap and crackle like chitlins in a hot skillet.

Reverend Payne whispers in her ear, and instead of girly giggles, Frankie's face pales. If I'd just quit thinkin' about myself for one damn minute, I'd have noticed long before now how uncomfortable she's been this whole time.

I hop off the hay bale like it's on fire and cross the dance floor in two shakes of a lamb's tail. I tap the reverend on the shoulder twice, a bit harder than necessary to get his attention. Still, he doesn't turn around.

I clear my throat. "Excuse me, Reverend."

My fists clench at my side, ready to lay this sucker flat if need be. He turns to me with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. I'm not one for violence, but the notion of this fella with a black eye and a loose tooth stirs somethin' within me that I fight to contain. My muscles are twitchin' somethin' fierce, but I figure Frankie'll go flyin' off the handle if I take a swipe at him just yet.

"May I cut in?" I grit my teeth so hard the words can barely get out between 'em, but when Frankie replies and our eyes meet, I'm cooled in her creekwater greens. I hold out my hand.

Frankie smiles in relief. "Of course, Harry." She places her hand in mine.

"Remember what we talked about, Frankie. I'll be here all week for your confession." Reverend Payne nods to Frankie, shoots a glare in my direction, and hightails it over to a group of schoolgirls. I recognize two of them from the mercantile.

I am stricken with the harsh realization that I've never been to a dance before. I put a shaky hand on Frankie's waist. "Uh, I only danced a couple times as a kid. With my ma," I admit. Frankie takes my other hand and holds it up proper like, and soon I'm scootin' my boots with the rest of 'em.

My eyes pool with tears as memories flood my moonshine-weakened mind. I remember dancin' with my ma. I remember losin' her. And dad. And our home. That no-good Reverend Payne comin' here and dancin' with Frankie got me all riled up.

"That's sweet, Harry," Frankie speaks in a soft voice. I can tell by the way she's lookin' at me that she knows I'm bothered. "Do you have any pictures of your mama?"

"Only a couple. I'll show ya if you'd like."

Her grin spreads real soft and slow. "I'd like that very much, Mr. Styles." The band starts playin' a slower song next, and I'm grateful. I could just stop dancin' altogether, but why would I wanna let go of Frankie if I don't have to?

"Hey, what was the reverend going on about?" She's so darn pretty I damn near forget to ask.

"He wants me to go to confession," she says, worried.

I tighten my grip on her. "Are you going to?"

"I don't think so," she responds.

I tighten my grip a little more, and she laughs, "I don't wanna go."

I tighten it even more. "Okay, I won't go. Happy now?" Frankie pretends to be exasperated, but I know she likes it.

"Good. That's one thing settled. Now what's this about Louis lookin' for you?" I ask.

Frankie shrugs, bewildered. "Your guess's as good as mine. We've never met. He wasn't even there when his mama died." Frankie pauses. "Maybe Reverend Payne knows what Louis wants? We weren't dancin' long enough to talk about it. He only talked about confessin'." I remember Frankie told me Louis had left home with his father long before she'd come to stay with Ms. Tomlinson.

I keep gazin' at Frankie as we dance, my mind churnin' ideas like butter. Somethin' just don't feel right, not to mention the fact that I feel like I gotta fart again.

"Are you feelin' okay?" Frankie asks. She must notice my about-to-fart face, she just doesn't know what it means yet.

I groan, "I guess beans and Reverend Payne don't mix too well."

Frankie tries to poke me in the gut for bein' rude, but I dodge in the nick of time. "That won't help, Frankie." I wink, layin' my hand over my stomach to protect it.

Frankie huffs in frustration. "What's wrong with you?" I ask her.

She exhales and pouts, cute as a button. "I know I wanted to come here and you were nice enough to bring me. But I didn't know Reverend Payne was gonna be here messin' everythin' up."

I love it when she rambles. She keeps goin' and the whole while I'm thinkin' about how I can unhitch one of Niall's horses from the wagon and leave it for him, so I can take Frankie home early. He can pick it up on his way back to the mountain.

As she starts windin' down, I hear her say, "I just wanna go home and be with you, Harry." There's a blush on her cheeks and a warmth in my veins.

"Well, darlin'. Why didn't you just say so?"