“You think all these people know about Aunt Kitty?”
“I’d bet my life on it.”
Maggie groaned. “Guilt by association. They probably think you married a loose woman.”
Hank guided her through the crowd to the cash bar, muscling his way in front of Andy White and stomping on Farley Boyd’s instep when he tried to approach Maggie.
“They just think you’re sort of a celebrity since you’re a writer.”
Henry Gooley lurched in front of Maggie and winked. Hank lifted him three inches off the floor by his necktie. “You want something, Henry?”
“Urk.”
“Put him down!” Maggie said. “You’re choking him!”
Hank set Henry onto the floor and smoothed out his tie.
“Jest wanted to say howdy,” Henry said, backing away.
Maggie closed her eyes and counted to ten. “This is fast becoming the most embarrassing night of my life, and considering the life I’ve led that’s really saying something. You’re acting like the village goon.”
“Yeah. You bring out the beast in me.”
Elsie elbowed her way through the crowd to Maggie. “This here’s a humdinger of a party. I bet everybody for fifty miles came to this dance. I bet those guys who broke into our house are here.” She patted her big black patent leather pocketbook. “I brought Little Leroy along, just in case.”
“It isn’t loaded, is it?” Hank asked. “I’d hate to see you shoot up the grange hall.”
“Of course it’s loaded. A woman’s got to protect herself.”
Slick Newman sidled up to Maggie. “Howdy,” he said, “I’m Slick Newman and I was wondering if you’d like to dance.”
Hank gripped Maggie’s arm just above the elbow. “Elsie, you mind if I borrow your pocketbook for a minute?”
Maggie glared at him. “Don’t you dare borrow Elsie’s pocketbook.” She turned to Slick. “I’d love to dance.”
“Oh no, you wouldn’t,” Hank said, still holding tight to her arm. “You promised the first dance to me.” He smiled amiably at Slick. “I’m a little tense to night. I’ve never been married before.”
“Sad,” Slick said, giving him a consoling slap on the back. “You were one of the really great ones too.”
Hank moved Maggie out onto the dance floor. “Okay, here goes,” he said, assuming a dancing position. He took a deep breath and swayed a little. “How am I doing?”
“Good start,” Maggie told him.
He held her closer and continued swaying. “Dancing isn’t so bad after all. I think I’m going to like this.”
“It’d be more interesting if we moved around some.”
“I don’t know-moving around sounds complicated.” He eased her forward and stepped on her foot. “Oops, sorry.”
“You’d better get the hang of this,” Maggie said, “because I’m not marrying any man for real who can’t dance.”
“No problem. It’s just a matter of timing. Oops, sorry.” He carefully steered her around Evelyn Judd and Ed Kritch. “So, are you saying that if I learn to dance you’ll marry me?”
“No. I was making conversation. I was providing incentive. I think I was teasing.”
Evelyn Judd tapped Hank on the shoulder. “Is this Hank Mallone dancing? I don’t believe it. Fifteen years ago we were named king and queen of the fair, and this bum misses my coronation dance! I know you’re newlyweds and everything, but I think Hank owes me a dance.”
Maggie stared openmouthedly as Evelyn deftly maneuvered herself into Hank’s arms and glided away with him. Then she heard Evelyn gasp, and she heard Hank say, “Oops, sorry,” and Maggie felt a little better.
“Guess it’s you and me,” Ed Kritch said.
He was tall and rangy with sandy-colored hair that fell straight down onto his ears and across his forehead. He held Maggie in a loose-jointed slouch as they traveled across the dance floor, making the usual inane dance floor conversation.
“How do you like Skogen?” he said.
“I like it fine,” Maggie answered.
“The weather’s been dry most of this week,” he offered.
Maggie agreed.
There was a pause and they both knew he was working up to the big question. “I hear you’re a writer.”
“Yup,” Maggie said.
“Is it true that your aunt left you her diary with…um, personal stuff in it?”
“My aunt was a madam, and while there are some personal observations, most of the diary consists of pretty mundane information.”
They’d traveled halfway around the grange and were in the shadow of the open side door. “You mind if we stop here for just a second,” Ed said. “The fresh air feels great.”
Maggie momentarily turned her back to Ed and the door, taking the opportunity to look for Hank.
“Sorry to have to do this,” Ed said. “Hope I don’t mess up your hair none.”
And then he snatched her out the door and threw a grain sack over her head. Her scream was cut short by a hand clamped over her mouth. She kicked out, but strong arms lifted her off the ground, carried her a short distance, and dumped her into a car.
The motor kicked in and the car jumped forward. Maggie was thrown off balance on a fast curve out of the parking lot, and then there was just the steady drone of the engine. Ed Kritch took the grain sack off her head and scooted to the farthest corner of the backseat.
“I hope this don’t color our friendship since you’re going to be living here for the rest of your life and we’re practically neighbors and all,” he said.
“You have to understand a million dollars is a lot of money. I wouldn’t ordinarily consider kidnapping or stealing or any of that stuff. Last week Big Irma gave me too much change for a quart of motor oil, and I gave it back to her. The problem is, jobs are real scarce in Skogen. The only job I could get is pumping gas at Irma’s, and it don’t give me enough money to raise a family on. Evelyn and I want to get married, but we can’t hardly afford it.”
There were two men in the front seat. The driver did a half-turn and smiled at Maggie. “I’m Vern Walsh,” he said. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
He nodded to the large man sitting on the passenger side. “This here’s Ox Olesen. Me and Ed and Ox are gonna split the million three ways. Ox is gonna use the money to go to college to learn about computers, and I’m gonna buy a couple cows with it so I can start a dairy herd. See, we’re not so bad, it’s like Ed said, our roots are here in Skogen but we can’t make any money here. We talked about it, and we figure borrowing your aunt’s diary doesn’t really hurt anyone.”
Maggie shook her head in disbelief. Her initial fear and outrage were overwhelmed by her curiosity. “I can’t follow any of this. What’s this business about a million dollars?”
“Someone…I don’t think we should tell you who, offered a million dollars for your aunt’s diary.”
Maggie felt the breath catch in her chest. “A million dollars? Why on earth would anyone want to pay a million dollars for Aunt Kitty’s diary. I’ve read every word of it. It’s not worth a million dollars.”
“It is now,” Ed Kritch said. “Hey, we could give you some of the money to compensate for taking you away from the dance. We aren’t greedy. We don’t need the whole million. We could divide it up four ways instead of three.”
“I can’t give up Aunt Kitty’s diary,” Maggie said. “She entrusted it to me. I promised to make it into a book.”
“Bummer,” Ed Kritch said. “We didn’t count on that.”
“The way I see it,” Vern Walsh said, “is that your Aunt Kitty was a good old broad, and she’d probably like to help us all out. She’d be glad to know her diary was doing somebody some good.”
He turned into the driveway and gunned the car down the dirt road to Hank’s house. “If we get the diary real fast, then we can get back to the dance in time to see them crown the king and queen.”