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across the rough-hewn floorboards and rag rugs to her father, wrapping her tiny arms around his leg.
    He was a big bear of a man, with a full head of thick, coarse brown hair, and gray eyes which he joked used to be as blue as Belle's before they faded due to all the pond swimming he had done as a child.
    "There's my Blue Belle," he said, removing his heavy leather gloves and rubbing the top of her head.
    His hand was large and calloused, the weathered skin catching in her hair. But Belle didn't mind, just as she didn't mind the feel of his coarse woolen trousers against her cheek, or the smell of hay and hard work that tickled her nose when he came home at the end of the day.
    He tilted back his head and sniffed. "Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm. Smells good in here. What's your mama cookin' tonight?"
    "You know! You know what it is! It's your favorite!"
    34Linda Francis Lee
    A teasing smile parted his lips. "Don't tell me we're having beef stew . . ."
    ". . . with little baby onions!" Belle finished for him.
    "You're right, darlin'. Next to you and your mama, that is my favorite. All that thick juicy sauce . . ."
    ". . . smuttering all the carrots and potatoes!"
    He chuckled. "Smothering, sweetheart, smothering all the carrots and potatoes."
    Gently, he grasped her shoulders and pulled her away, then leaned down until he looked her straight in the eyes. "And why, I wonder, are we having such a special treat tonight?" He seemed to ponder the question with great deliberation.
    "Don't you remember, Papa?" she asked, her voice suddenly breathless.
    "Let's see," he teased with the utmost seriousness. "Could it be we're having company?"
    "No," she replied hesitantly.
    He screwed up his lips. "Could it be Sunday and I forgot?"
    "It's Wednesday, Papa. Wednesday, the fourteenth of Feboorary."
    "February, darlin'," he said chuckling. "And could it be," he added, grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, "that it's your birthday?"
    "Yes!" she cried, jumping up and down. "You remembered! You remembered!"
    "I also remembered something else." He reached into his coat pocket as he straightened. When he stood in the small house, his head nearly touched the ceiling, the months of dry winter air causing his hair to stand on end when he walked through the room.
    She watched wide-eyed as he pulled both hands behind his back. The muscles in his shoulders and upper
    Blue Waltz 35
    arms moved as he did something she couldn't see. Finally, when she thought she could stand it no longer, he presented both fisted hands out to her like a magician.
    "Which one?" he demanded, his giant frame towering over her in the tiny house.
    Belle stared at his hands with great deliberation. "That one," she blurted out, pointing to his left hand.
    With a devilish smile, he opened it with a flourish.
    "Empty!" Her nose wrinkled as she considered his other hand. She looked up at him again with those blue eyes and tilted her head.
    Her father threw back his head and laughed. "Such a darlin' you are, Blue Belle." He opened his other hand.
    "Peppermint!" she squealed, snatching the stick away, then hugging him tight.
    "Browning Holly, you'll ruin that child's appetite giving her candy before supper." Madeline Holly stood in the kitchen doorway, a smile on her lips that belied her exacting tone. She had dark brown hair and deep blue eyes, making it easy to see where Belle got her looks.
    Belle immediately disengaged herself and ran to her mother. "Mama, Mama, look. Peppermint!"
    Madeline reached down and traced the back of her flour-covered hand down Belle's cheek. "Yes, love, peppermint, a special treat. But save it until after supper."
    Glancing up, Madeline met her husband's eyes across the room. Her dark hair was pulled up and away from her face. "You're a devilish man, Browning Holly," Madeline said, her smile softening.
    "How could I refuse those big blue eyes and a smile as sweet as her mother's?" he asked roguishly. "Especially on her birthday. Besides, I've brought you