Page 8 of Defending Casey

Desire.

Longing.

Closing her eyes in the dark of her room she heard the distinctive sound of music in her head. It was only too easy to slip into the past since she’d kept this memory alive for a decade. It was never far from her mind and her body when she was alone at night.

Dancing.

That’s how that night had begun.

Hale brought her to the house on his mother’s land. The house he had inherited and would be completely his when he turned twenty-one. The small farmhouse with its square footprint. The honeysuckle climbing up the porch posts that scented the air like perfume. The rag rug under their bare feet as they danced to the new hit on the Country Radio Station by Josh Turner. Dancing not just because the song urged them to, but because she needed to wear herself out.

Being alone with Hale was heady stuff but also feeling the rush of love pumping through her veins had her on the edge. And Hale? He was riding his own high. The upcoming championship football game and the letter he’d shown her earlier giving him a full ride to not just one, but three different colleges on a sports scholarship.

As the song ended, it took them a few seconds to stop laughing and catch their breaths and it didn’t help that Casey’s two-left-feet became an issue and she’d stumbled on the edge of the rug and into Hale’s arms.

“Whoa there, careful.”

She laid her head on his chest. “Whoa there,” she giggled again. “You know I’m better on a horse than on my feet.”

The music started up again, a softer song, a ballad. The gentle roughness of Dierks Bentley’s singing voice. She hadn’t heard the song before, but she didn’t have a lot of time to listen to music. There wasn’t a radio she could hook onto the horn of her saddle, and she didn’t have the voice to sing like Dale Evans.

“It’s a slow song, Case. I got you.”

“Hmm.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned in closer letting him rock them to the beat.

As the lyrics started, Hale hummed along. It was lower than his speaking voice and she could hear it rumbling in his chest. She leaned in closer, wanting to be as close to him as she could get.

It never seemed close enough.

The song continued on, and the lyrics spun quite a spell around her, enjoying the warmth that Hale lent her. Even though it was just hinting at summer, the nights were still a bit chilly and sharing Hale’s heat was always a joy that left her comforted and shaken as well.

Their moments alone never lasted long enough and she, in the throes of young love, was always worried that they wouldn’t last.

The grandfather clock at the far end of the room chimed the hour and Casey turned to look at it, knowing full well what time it was.

Eight o’clock.

Only three hours before she was expected at home.

Just not enough time.

“Hey,” his voice turned her back to look at him, “don’t think about the time, Case. Let’s just pretend.”

“Pretend?” Her laugh was soft and low. He had no way of knowing how much pretending she did when she was alone and thinking of him. How many dreams and fantasies she’d blushed over in her room at home. “What do you want to pretend?”

“You.” He lifted his hands from her back and brushed her bangs back from her face. “Me.” Hale leaned closer and kissed her forehead. “Living here. Together.”

There it was. The all too familiar blush of color in her cheeks. The heat of hope and desire only to be crushed by the whisper of reality in the back of her mind.

“My dad would so not be okay with that. Yours either.”

“I’m going to be nineteen in three weeks, Case. You turned eighteen a few weeks ago.”

“Hale,” she felt her chest tighten, “what are you talking about?”

“Getting married, Case. We can get married at any time. You and me.”

Just the thought of it made her lean against him, eager for his heat. She needed him to chase away the cold hand of reality. “You’ll be in college before then, Hale. You’ll be there and a big football star and I’m still going to be the only girl who never even tried out for the cheerleading squad. The girl who would have been the president of the FFA if it hadn’t been for Tommy Dolan bringing a keg to the vote. I’m not planning to go to college outside of Colorado, Hale. We’re-”

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