Free Moonlight Dancer by Mona Ingram Page A

sweetheart,” she’d said. “In his mid-thirties. He and his wife used to go to The Trip every weekend. That was before I owned it, of course. She died around the same time as Matt, and we met at a support group.” Janelle had paused for a moment, caught up in painful memories. “Anyway, it took him until last year to start socializing again and trust me, he’s a great dancer.”
    Charlie pulled on her jeans and stopped in front of the mirror. “I can do this” she said aloud. “What’s more, I want to do this.” She put on an extra-long T-shirt, and then brightened the look with a long scarf around her waist. The bold splash of colour was just what she needed. She went downstairs, eager to start the day.
    Janelle was already downstairs. “You look great” she said, eyeing Charlie’s hair. She had pulled it back from her face again this morning, admittedly copying Charlotte’s look.
    “Thanks, but I’m still nervous.”
    “If it’s any consolation, Tyler will probably be nervous too. He’s never taught anyone before. Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you. He’ll be coming in the side door, so if you leave it open a bit he won’t have to holler for you. Helps to air out the place, too. Listen, are you hungry?”
    “Actually, I am.” Charlie didn’t know how she could be nervous and hungry at the same time, but she was. “I was going to ask if you have any eggs, but I suppose that’s a silly question.”
    “I have lots, but they’re all outside.” Janelle busied herself at the stove. “Do you mind going out for some?” She looked back over her shoulder, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Jason is out there, but he probably won’t recognize you. Ask him for half a dozen.”
    Charlie slipped into her oldest pair of sneakers, which she now kept by the back door. It seemed like ages since she’d seen Jason. His ATV was parked underneath the weeping willow in the driveway, but he was nowhere in sight. The water dispenser had been refilled, so he must be around somewhere.
    “Now you stop that.” His muffled voice sounded annoyed.
    She followed the sound to the door of the chicken coop. He was bent over, hand beneath a nesting chicken who was pecking at him, clearly angered at being robbed.
    “I thought they just laid their eggs and then went about their business,” she said to his back.
    He stilled for a moment and then withdrew the egg. “Most of them do. This old girl has always been broody.” He placed the egg in a basket and turned. “Whoa, Charlie, is that you? You look different.” His gaze slid down to her shoes and his mouth twitched. “I missed you yesterday.” A broad sweep of his hand indicated the yard. “Around here, I mean. I didn’t see you.”
    “And here I thought you missed my company.”
    “I did but – oh, never mind. You know what I mean.” He seemed flustered. “Your hair is different.” He studied her openly, smiling his approval. “I like it.” His cheek dimpled and Charlie’s pulse quickened.
    “Charlie! Have you got the eggs?”
    Jason came out of the chicken coop, basket in hand. “Morning, Janelle. How many would you like?”
    “Hi, Jason. Half a dozen please. Would you like to join us for a quick breakfast?”
    “Thanks, but I’ve had mine.” He stepped into the sunlight and hiked his head toward an addition at the back of the house. “Come on, Charlie. I’ll show you where the eggs are stored.”
    The small room held a sorting table and a large refrigerator. The eggs were efficiently organized and Jason slipped six into a small bag. “We save the cartons for selling,” he explained. “Today is Monday. This fridge will be almost empty by the end of the day. It’s surprising how many people come for eggs on Monday.”
    “How does Janelle get anything done?” Charlie asked, almost to herself.
    “That’s no problem. The customers take what they want and write it down. They pay once a month. Listen, you’d better get these eggs up