Chapter Three

Deborah Brown"s handtrembled ever so slightly on the brass handle of the dance hall"s door. She took a deep breath before stepping into the whirlwind of sights and sounds that greeted her. Her blue eyes darted around the room, looking for an anchor in the sea of faces.

"Evening, Deborah," a voice called from the corner, where some local youngsters were gathered, their laughter mingling with the clink of glasses and the shuffle of boots on wood.

"Good evening," she replied.

The church pulsed with life. Couples spun and twirled, their movements a dance of shadows and light thrown by the lanterns hanging overhead. Men tipped their hats and ladies fanned themselves, cheeks flushed with excitement or perhaps the summer heat.

Deborah"s foot tapped almost imperceptibly to the beat. She watched, filled with hope and a quiet longing to be part of the joy that enveloped the room.

Amidst the twirling dresses and boisterous laughter, a figure caught Deborah"s attention from across the crowded room.

Susan Dailey whispered to Deborah, " His name is Aaron Tudor—the Gentle Giant as he's fondly known," He stood by the punch bowl, his towering form a beacon amidst the sea of dancers. His smile, warm and unguarded, seemed to light up the space as his eyes met hers.

Deborah"s heart fluttered like a trapped bird within her chest. She turned away quickly, her fingers reaching up to twist a lock of hair around them—a nervous habit she"d developed in place of her absent knitting needles. She felt exposed. It was as though she was missing her lifeline in this lively battlefield of social interaction.

"Nice night for dancing, isn"t it?" The depth of Aaron"s voice cut through the din of fiddle music and chatter, surprisingly close now.

"Y-yes, quite nice," Deborah managed to murmur, not trusting herself to lift her gaze to meet his. As if her hands had a mind of their own, they busied themselves further with her hair, coiling strands into a makeshift distraction.

"Mind if I stand here a spell? Seems cooler by the wall," Aaron said, his tone easy and devoid of any pretense. He didn"t seem to notice—or chose not to comment on—Deborah"s diverted eyes and fidgeting hands.

"Of course," she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. "The heat can be rather oppressive."

"I'm Aaron," he said, "Aaron Tudor." He smiled at her, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Deborah Brown," she said softly, and for a moment, she allowed herself to return his smile, finding comfort in the simple exchange. It was a start, a tiny step toward something new.

Aaron edged closer. "Deborah, would you honor me with a dance?"

Her heart fluttered like a trapped bird beneath her ribs. She glanced up at him, his height casting an imposing figure, yet his smile was nothing but warm and inviting. "I-I"d be delighted," Deborah stammered.

"Excellent!" Aaron"s eyes lit up, and he offered his hand with the grace of a man who knew the strength he possessed yet wielded it with care.

As they stepped onto the dance floor, Deborah could hardly believe the firm yet gentle grasp of his calloused fingers around hers. The music swelled, a lively tune that set boots and petticoats twirling.

"Step light now, just follow my lead," Aaron said, guiding her into the dance with an ease that was surprising with his size.

"Like this?" Deborah asked, her feet finding the rhythm as she allowed him to steer their course among the other dancers.

"Exactly like that," Aaron chuckled, and there was a twinkle in his eye that made her breath catch. They moved together through the steps.

"Seems you"ve done this before," Aaron mused, spinning her under his arm.

"Only in my dreams," she confessed, laughter bubbling from her lips as she returned to his embrace.

"Then let"s make sure this dance is one worth dreaming about," Aaron replied, his voice carrying a promise that filled Deborah with a warmth that even the summer night couldn"t rival.

Their banter flowed as effortlessly as their movements, and for those fleeting moments, Deborah found herself caught in a world where fear had no place, only the joy of being held in the gentle giant"s steady arms.

With Aaron"s hands guiding her through the dance, she should have felt secure, yet a tremor of unease quivered through her. Men had always been a storm cloud in her sunny sky, their intentions as murky as a swollen river after heavy rains. Aaron, however, seemed different. His grip was firm but kind, his eyes a calm harbor in the church filled with people.

"Doing all right?" Aaron asked, his voice low and steady over the din, like the rumble of distant thunder that promised rain but no tempest.

"Trying to," Deborah admitted, her gaze flitting away for a moment, only to be drawn back by the kindness she found in his.

"Take your time. There"s no rush," he reassured, leading her through a gentle turn. His smile was like a lantern in the dark, illuminating the path ahead and beckoning her forward.

"Thank you," she said, feeling the knots of fear begin to loosen. Her doubts whispered that she was just a simple store clerk, a mediocre knitter at best, not someone who could hold the attention of this gentle giant.

"See? Just like walking in the rain, one step at a time," Aaron encouraged.

"Except I"m less likely to trip over my own feet in the rain," Deborah said, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her jitters.

"Then we"ll call it a success if we make it through without any stumbles," Aaron replied with a chuckle.

As the music played on and the dancers spun around them, Deborah let herself get lost in the rhythm of Aaron"s lead. She allowed the warmth of his hand at her back to chase away the chills of past fears, the sound of his laughter to fill the spaces where doubt used to dwell. For the first time in a long while, she felt seen for the dreams nestled within her heart. And perhaps, just maybe, those dreams included a dance or two with a man who saw her as more than average.

The fiddle music slowed to a gentle hum, and the dancers dispersed for a moment of reprieve. Deborah found herself beside Aaron at the refreshment table, her fingers lightly brushing against the lace tablecloth as she reached for a glass of punch.

"Quite the evening, ain"t it?" Aaron"s voice was smooth, like the worn leather reins he often handled on his ranch.

"Indeed," Deborah replied, her tone soft but steady. "I never imagined I"d be sharing a dance with... well, someone like you."

"Someone like me?" Aaron raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze.

"Someone so..." She paused, searching for the right word that wouldn"t betray her nerves. "You do realize you are a very large man, don't you?"

"Ah," he chuckled, tipping his hat back slightly. "And here I thought it was my two-stepping skills that impressed you."

Deborah couldn"t help but smile, the tension easing from her shoulders. "That too," she said. "I...well, you're a bit intimidating, if you haven't noticed." She took a sip of her drink, finding courage in the sweetness.

"Think of me as one of your female friends." Aaron"s grin was warm, inviting. "There's nothing to be afraid of or intimidated by."

"Thank you," she murmured, touched by his words.

"Miss Brown—Deborah," Aaron began, his voice taking on a softer timbre. "May I be forthright?"

"Please do," she answered, surprised by her own eagerness.

"I"ve watched you since you walked into this church, seen how you carry yourself with such grace. But it didn't look like you expected any man to approach you." He leaned in closer, his presence both imposing and comforting. "You're much more than you give yourself credit for."

Deborah"s heart fluttered, vulnerable under his gaze. She wrestled with the desire to open up, to share the fears that gnawed at her. With a steadying breath, she took the plunge.

"Aaron, there"s something I must confess," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "My fear of men, it runs deep, and though you"ve been nothing but kind, I find myself waiting for the other boot to drop."

"Deborah," he said earnestly, "you"ve no cause to fear me. I"d like to prove myself worthy of your trust, however long it takes."

"Would you? Even if it meant..." She hesitated, her next words feeling like a leap off a cliff. "Even if it meant waiting to consummate our marriage until I"m ready?"

"Absolutely," Aaron responded without a hint of hesitation, his voice firm and resolute. "I want you to feel safe with me. To see that my intentions are true."

"Thank you, Aaron," she breathed, relief washing over her. For the first time, she considered the possibility of a future where her fears didn"t dictate her heart"s desires—a future where perhaps, love could gently unravel the tightly wound yarn of her past.

Aaron reached for Deborah"s hand, his touch as reassuring as the solid earth beneath their feet. "You"ve got a courageous heart, Deborah. Takes a lot to speak your truth in this world."

The warmth from his grasp seemed to seep into her skin, fueling a newfound courage that fluttered in her chest. She allowed herself a small smile, nodding in silent gratitude for his understanding.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing back to the lively dance floor where couples were once again finding their rhythm.

"I'd like that," she replied.

As they rejoined the dance, the fiddler picked up the pace, bow dancing across strings with wild abandon. The music was infectious, and Deborah found her feet moving with more confidence, her steps matching Aaron"s with surprising ease. Laughter bubbled up from her throat, genuine and free, as she spun under Aaron"s arm, her skirt twirling around her.

"Look at you, dancing like you"ve been doing it all your life," Aaron teased gently, a glint of admiration in his eyes.

"Maybe I have," Deborah said, grinning up at him.

"Wouldn"t doubt it for a second," he said, chuckling.

As the evening wore on, the heat of the summer night wrapped around them like a warm embrace, but the heat between Deborah and Aaron was of a different sort—a spark of connection that was kindling something more. They danced until her feet hurt, but she just couldn't stop. She was enjoying herself too much in this man's arms.

When the final notes of the fiddle hung in the air, they stood side by side, breathless from the dance. Aaron looked down at Deborah, his gaze sincere.

Aaron looked at her. "The way I understand it, if I'm interested in marriage, I'm supposed to ask now, and then we go and have Amos marry us."

She nodded slowly. "That's my understanding."

"Well, I'm not a man of flowery words, so I'm just going to say it. I want you to cook my breakfast in the mornings after sleeping in my arms all night. With that being the case, I guess that means we need to get married."

She laughed, but his words triggered her fear. "But we can still wait to consummate?" she asked.

He nodded. "Absolutely. I won't do anything you don't want me to do. Though..."

"Yes?"

"I sure would like it if I can kiss you now and then while you're getting used to me."

She swallowed hard, but nodded. "I suppose that makes sense."

"Let's go see Amos then. I can't wait to take you home with me."

Feeling as if she was marrying a stranger, a gentle giant no less, she followed him to the preacher, and they spoke their words quickly. When the pastor told him he could kiss her, he brushed his lips across her cheek. And that's when she knew she'd made the right decision. He really did care how she felt.