Free One Magic Night by Shirley Larson Page B

of corn tassel and dried leaves clung to his white shirt.  She was responsible for them. 
    “You’re a mess.”  She reached out and brushed them off, feeling that muscled chest under the cotton.  He stood there, his eyes gleaming with obvious enjoyment.  When she finished, he said, "Where are you going now?"
    "To the schoolhouse." His physical presence had intensified the heat of the sun, and perspiration trickled down her back.
    "I'll come and help you.”
    She brushed a strand of honey-colored hair away from her cheek and faced him, her head high. "Really, it’s not necessary, Ty.  You’ve done enough."
    He stretched out an arm and leaned on the roof of her car, the gesture vaguely reminiscent of the way he trapped her on the stairwell, and he smiled that wonderful, lazy smile. "What do I have to do to convince you that I’m on your side?"
    “I didn’t know we had sides.”
    “Sure we do.  And I’m on yours.” 
    “Good to know. 
    The movement of his shoulder sent a brown tassel seed tumbling down the front of his shirt.  “If you’re so anxious to continue to drown yourself in corn chaff, follow me to the school house.”
    She drove up to another farm driveway, made a U-turn, and accelerated past him.  He got in Eve’s car and followed her.
    She pulled up in front of the schoolhouse. The two-story red brick building was shaded by four tall maples clustered on the west side, but on the east a low, modern elementary building had been attached three years ago.
    She parked the car and took the keys from the ignition.  When she unlocked the trunk, he walked up and scooped the bundle into his arms from under her nose.
    "Lead the way," he said,   He held the awkward bundle and gazed at her.
    When she unlocked the door to the school house and Ty entered behind her, the ends of his corn brushing the walls, he said, "Wow.  I remember that smell. Chalk dust and pencils and industrial cleaner, and old sneakers moldering away in a locker."
    A smile tugged at her lips. She began to climb the stairs, and Ty followed, his feet making solid sounds on the steps, the rustle of the corn leaves reminding her how close he was behind her.
    She unlocked her door. The sun-warmed room was close, stifling, the smell of chalk dust even more pronounced. She gestured toward the far corner of the window wall behind the rows of desks. "You can put them there."
    She went to open a window, and Ty knelt and laid his burden on the floor with as little jarring as possible. When she turned, he had straightened and was brushing the clinging bits from his arms. "What are you going to do with these?" His tone was mildly curious.
    "Make a corn shock," she told him crisply.
    "You’ll need help with that."
    “I’m surprised you know what that is.”
    “I’m a ranch hand, remember?  But corn shocks are a little before my time.”  He smiled that devastating smile at her.  Then he bent his head, his eyes searching out more unwanted seeds and leaves.  The sunlight from the windows gleamed on his black hair and highlighted its sheen. A dried leaf, its edges jagged, lay just at the top of his crown.  She reached up to brush it away.
    “Thanks.”  The dark head lifted, turned, his eyes sweeping the room. They lingered briefly on the elaborate bulletin board display, swept over the washed, green chalk board, and swung to the table where the things she had bought Friday lay, the coiled hemp rope to tie the shock, the paper cutouts of zany Halloween creatures to decorate it.
    He nodded toward the rope. "Looks like you're all ready. Might as well get this started." He nodded at the pile.  "I'll hold, you stack."
    He leaned over the stalks and picked them up one by one, holding them upright until he was almost hidden and the bundle in his arms was so big that he couldn't bend over it. "Hand me some more, will you?"
    Standing behind that bundle of dried corn, he looked very human. She felt her mouth curving at the sight of the glossy