“C’mon, Bess,” Dan admonished, “You can’t peek or it won’t be a surprise.” 

“I’m not peeking!” she shot back, an indignant frown of displeasure crossing her features. 

“We’re almost there.” 

“Where are we going?”  And why had she agreed to this? 

“If I told ya, Bess, then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” he reminded with a cocky smirk. 

Bess pursed her lips into a thin line of feminine exasperation.  “What if I don’t want to be surprised?” 

Dan shrugged with indifference.  “Then I guess that’s yer problem.” 

Her pale jaw tightened, but she said nothing.  Slapping his hand from her eyes and marching straight back to the house was tempting; and she would have done it, had his steps not slowed at the same instant.  Before she could question on their whereabouts, however, Dan dropped his hand and nudged her forward. 

He gave a slight thrust of his head towards the corral then, as if sensing her obfuscation, gesturing over where Penny stood, saddled and swishing her long tail.  “There.” 

Bess craned her neck, “What?” 

“Oh, geez.”  Dan rolled his eyes and without so much as a warning, gave her another tug, reaching a hand to hoist himself up so he could climb over the fence.  “C’mon.” 

“Dan!” she protested, “I can’t climb that.” 

“Sure ya can.” 

“Not in a dress.  Mother woul—“ 

“Duck through the posts, then.” 

“No.” 

Undaunted by her stubborn refusal, Dan took his own advice and straddled the bottom post, catching her arm before she could offer another excuse.  “You need to get out more,” he chided her for the second time in the last five minutes, pulling her towards him. 

Bess balked.  “I don’t need you telling me what to do.” 

“Someone’s gonna tell ya one day, when ya promise ta love, honor, and obey at the pulpit,” he reminded her with another smirk.  “Might as well work on it now—might make it a little easier later on!” 

Her lips parted with unspoken anger.  “You—!”  She jerked from his hold and bent down, easily maneuvering through the fence, smoothing her skirts once she had reached the other side.  Dan Madison was far too arrogant for his own good! 

His mouth twisted into a triumphant grin, “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”   

Bess glared at him.  “Why did you drag me out here?” 

No response was given as he strode over to the copper mare and, gathering the leather reins, led her back to a most apprehensive Bess.   

Her blue eyes widened.  “No, Dan.” 

“Oh, c’mon.”  He stuck his booted foot in the left stirrup and swiftly mounted.  “Don’t be a chicken, Bess.” 

“I am not a chicken!” she denied, her defenses rising. 

“Just a little ride around?” 

“No!” 

Dan narrowed his eyes and grunted, muttering a few exasperated nothings under his breath.  She . . . was . . . impossible!  Whatever had possessed him to ask her to the Enchanted Ball some odd months back was far beyond his own understanding—as well as why he continued to pursue her.   

Having inherited her mother’s curiosity, Bess questioned then, “What?” 

“Oh, nothin’.”  

“Dan!” 

He let his mouth extend into a Cheshire cat grin, “Just thinkin’ ‘bout the dime Emil’s gonna win.” 

“Dime?”  She furrowed her blond brows.  “What dime?” 

“Made a bet—he didn’t think ya’d get on the horse.”  Dan shrugged with non-chalant resignation.  “Guess he was right.” 

“You made a BET with him?” 

“Yep.” 

“You are the rudest boy I have EVER met!”  

He flashed another grin, throwing her off guard.  “Thanks.”  Then, without giving her so much time as to flutter one of those lashes, he reached down and encircled her waist with an arm, lifting her up behind him.   

Intended as a retort, her angry chastisement turned into a shriek of girlish fear.  “Dan,” she cried, almost falling headfirst against him as she tried to balance herself in the precarious position he had tossed her into.   “What are you doing!?” 

“Goin’ for a ride.” 

Bess straightened in one swift moment, her features indignant once more.  “I am not!  I refuse to ride with you, Daniel Madison, after that—” 

Hoping to bring her dramatic tumble of words to an end, Dan nudged his mount with the heel of his boot, near her flank—just enough to elicit a half buck from the mare.  Bess let out another muffled shriek and, terrified, clung to Dan’s shirt, burying her face in his back. 

Just as he had calculated, it did not take him long to calm the horse.  And once he had everything ‘under control’ again, he glanced at her from over his shoulder.  “Ya alright?” 

She didn’t pull her face from hiding.  “Are we dead?” she whimpered, sounding quite pitiful. 

Dan laughed out loud.  “She bucked, Bess, not galloped through a fence.” 

Bess stiffened and sat up, though her slender fingers still grasping a generous amount of his shirt.  “I know she didn’t go through the fence,” she answered coolly, chin assuming a slight upward tilt. 

“Sure ya did,” he agreed, “’Cause girls know everythin’, right?” 

He would have received an elbow in the ribs for that remark, had she not been afraid of scaring her aunt’s horse.  Instead, with a bit of angelic sweetness, Bess said, “Well you certainly don’t.” 

Dan took it all in stride as he had long ago learned how to deal with her sensitive manner and dramatic fits.  “Never claimed ta,” he quipped. 

His simple response was not quite what she had anticipated.  And, finding herself at a loss for an intelligent retort, she said nothing.  It stayed the way for awhile, silent, as neither spoke.  Bess found it almost peculiar, how they could go from endless squabbling to silence in less than ten seconds.  Her aunt Jo had mentioned something before about conversations having “seven minute lulls”—she supposed this was what her aunt considered a conversational lull?   

Bess’s lack of response was not what he had expected and Dan, growing a bit disconcerted with the suddenness of it, placed his attention on leading Penny around the corral.  He wondered why she had stopped talking?  For once, he wished she would say something—anything. 

And, after a time, she finally did. 

Her nose was wrinkled, “Can you believe Tommy actually kissed that frog?” 

Dan’s mouth quirked at the corner with rueful amusement.  “An’ cause he thought it would remember him that way.  Yeah, right!”  He snickered, another thought coming to him.  “Maybe he thought it’d poof into a princess or something?” 

Bess giggled at the suggestion, seeming more at ease on the back of the horse than she had a few minutes before.  “An ugly princess.” 

Dan raised his brows and pushed his hat back slightly off his forehead.  “Wonder what he’ll be kissin’ next?  Prob’ly a cat or somethin’.” 

“Cats are cute.” 

“Maybe so—but not so cute when yer kissin’ ‘em.” 

She arched a brow.  “You know from personal experience?” 

He blushed.  “No.” 

Releasing his shirt with one hand, Bess poked his side with a gentle finger.  “You’re blushing, Dan,” she noted, a teasing lilt to her voice.  “Was it a soft one?  A cuddly gray one with a black striped tail?” 

Dan rubbed his neck, growing embarrassed with her playful taunts.  “I never kissed a cat!” he answered after a minute in all out protest.  “It weren’t gray an’ it weren’t cuddly an’ it weren’t cute.  ‘Cause there was no cat!” 

Her mouth curled into a triumphant little smile.  For once!  She had managed to get a bit of a rise out of him.  “Oh, come on, Dan.  I’m just teasing you,” she told him at length, hints of amusement still lingering on her countenance.   

“Yeah, well . . . “ 

She frowned then, a bit of haughtiness blazing in her eyes, and when she said nothing else, he knew he had exasperated her again.  Could there never be a moment of peace shared between them?  From the looks of it, he guessed not.  One or the other of them was always going to say the wrong thing. 

Dan resigned himself to the new bout of uncomfortable silence.  But Bess broke it again before long, when the soft, rhythmic sound of Penny’s hooves against the dirt became almost bothersome.  “Dan?”  

He straightened a bit, pulling back to attention. “Yeah?” 

Her voice was soft, timidly serious.  Her haughtiness from a before was stripped from her calm features, blonde brows drawn.  “Will you remember me, Dan?  I mean, after you’ve graduated and gone out West?” 

Even though he had long slowed the mare to a walk, Dan continued to rein her in a circle around the corral.  “’Course I will, Bess,” he answered quietly.  He had never been too at ease with sentimental moments, though; and, because of it, he surrendered to the slow, characteristic smile that started at the corners of his mouth. “Wait…were ya gonna kiss me if I said no?” 

Bess blushed and turned her blonde head away, embarrassed at his tease.  “Wouldn’t you like that,” she shot back in an awkward retort. 

Dan just grinned.  “No, really.  How wouldn’t I remember ya?  My life ain’t never gonna be the same after meetin’ you.” 

Lines of a frown disrupted the pale smoothness of her forehead.  Exasperated, she pursed her lips and gave him a shove just below the shoulder blades.   “You are impossible, Dan Madison.” 

No response was given.  Instead, he went on, strangely content with letting the time pass in quiet, without conversation, as they completed another circle.  It would never be admitted—he was Dan Madison, after all, and had a certain appearance to uphold—but he enjoyed times like this, ones when they could be within five miles of each other and not bickering over some inane thing.    

Fifteen minutes passed before he felt Bess stir behind him.  "I should get back," she said quietly, casting a glance over her shoulder, towards the house.  "I still have some chores to finish before dinner—especially since Mother and Father are coming to take me home for the evening."  

Dan didn’t protest this time and pulled Penny to a halt once they reached the gate.  "Yeah, right.  Forgot 'bout that," he admitted.  Careful not to kick her, he lifted his right leg up and around, sliding to the ground and landing on both feet.  Bess held her arms out, and he puts his hands on her waist, bringing her down in a more careful and more ladylike manner than he had come down himself.  

Brushing a straight wisp of blonde hair from her blue eyes, she cast a somewhat furtive glance up at him.  "I guess I'll see you later, then? At dinner?"  Not that he was going anywhere… 

He nodded, his fingers working to loosen the girth, "Yeah, dinner." 

Bess turned to leave, immediately caught with the reminder that she would have to climb over or through the fence—again.  Hmm, perhaps Dan . . .? 

“Hey, Bess?” 

Her head came up and she looked back.  “Yes?” 

Dan kept his hand close under Penny’s whiskered chin.  “Would ya tell Emil he’s gonna have to pay up?” 

Girlish anger clashed with common sense.  Without a word, she put her hands up and delivered him a mighty shove in the chest, almost sending the unsuspecting teen toppling on his posterior.  Boys!  Chin thrust upward, she spun on her heel and marched back to the house, long skirts whipping about her ankles. 

He smirked a bit, glancing at the four-legged creature beside him.  “She’s a handful,” he noted, “but she likes me.” 

Jo’s mare snorted.