Page 53 of The Ranger
“And me!” Maida said, raising her hand.
“Of course, dear,” Grandma Sadie said from the table. “Makama you should join us. I know Grandma Waller would love to meet you as well as Irene.”
Makama smiled. “I’ve heard about them from my in-laws. I look forward to meeting everyone.”
Maida brought a pie to the table, as Belle carried the other. They began slicing them, putting portions on plates, and passing them out. Soon dessert was underway, and she retook her seat and met Mr. Markhel’s gaze.
He looked at her, a forkful of pie halfway to his mouth. He took a bite, and slowly chewed, his eyes never leaving hers.
Grandpa Harrison cleared his throat. “Do you dance, Mr. Markhel?” He gave Maida a sidelong glance of disapproval.
She broke eye contact and quickly took a bite of pie, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Blast! Caught!
“I dance only when I have to.”
Maida could feel his eyes on her. But with Grandpa looking on, she didn’t dare peek. Instead, she looked at the Bergs, who were cringing.
“Oh,” Grandpa drawled. “That’s too bad.” He took another bite of pie, smiling.
Maida glanced his way. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was glad Mr. Markhel didn’t like to dance.
“Everyone should know a few dances,” Pa said. “But that’s all right. There are others in town that don’t dance though they do try.”
Vale smiled. “I know quite a few dances. In fact, I’m sure I can teach Markhel a few.” He reached for his cup and grinned at the big man.
All eyes turned to Mr. Markhel, including Maida’s. She didn’t care what Grandpa thought at this point.
Mr. Markhel returned the stares. “Dancing, is it part of a mating custom?”
Vale spewed coffee all over the table.
“Vale!” Makama grabbed a napkin to clean up the mess. “Are you okay?”
“No…cough… cough… not after that.”
She dabbed at the tablecloth. “I believe what Markhel is trying to say, is that he isn’t familiar with American dances.”
“Are you referring to special wedding dances?” Pa asked. “Of other countries?”
Markhel’s left eyebrow raised ever so slightly as he glanced at the Bergs.
“Yes,” Makama said. “That’s exactly what he means.”
Mr. Markhel glanced at Pa and smiled, looking as if was someone was pulling at both corners of his mouth.
Maida watched with interest. “You don’t… dance at all?” She hoped she didn’t sound too disappointed.
“If there are those willing to teach me, I am willing to learn.”
She shot Mr. Berg a hopeful look.
He looked… pleased? “I’ll do my best.”
His best was good enough for her. She thought it would be grand to dance with Mr. Markhel. Of course, considering their height difference they might look a little funny, but she’d buy some shoes with higher heels if she had to.
When dessert was over, she helped clear away the dishes as their guests and the rest of the family went into the parlor.
Maida hurried and prepared the washtub. She added Snow Flakes—the invention that made Mr. Snow rich—to the hot water, stirred them up, and grabbed the first few plates.