From Cowboy Charm School

By Margaret Brownley

Foster burst through the door of the telegraph office like a man with his pants on fire. “I need to talk to you,” he said.

Guessing what Foster had on his mind, Brett bit back his annoyance. Before the dance, the man had been so anxious, he’d been knockin’ around like a blind dog in a meat market. Today, he didn’t look much better.

“How did you know I was here?”

The question seemed to surprise Foster. “It’s a small town. Everyone knows you’re here.”

“Yeah, just like everyone knows the identities of the Ghost Riders,” Brett muttered.

“What?”

“Never mind. What did you want to see me about?”

“I just want to know what Kate said.”

Brett raised an eyebrow. “Said?”

“Yeah, you know about last night’s dance.”

“She said she had a good time.”

Foster rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. “That’s it? That’s all?”

“What more did you want her to say? It was a dance, not a religious revival.”

“She didn’t, you know, suspect anything?”

Brett frowned. “Anything? Oh, you mean your red face. No, she blamed it on the heat. Blast it, Foster! What were you thinking?”
“Me? You’re the one who told me to whistle.”

“Yes, but I didn’t tell you to blow up a norther.” Brett sighed with exasperation. “You were lucky this time, but you’ve got to get that jealousy of yours under control.”
“I’m working on it.” Foster lowered his voice. “Do you think she’s ready to take me back?”

“Now slow down. These things take time. Capturing a woman’s heart is like fishing. You toss out the bait and once she bites, you reel her in gently.” Brett made a circular motion with his hand to demonstrate. “If you reel her in too fast, you’ll lose her.”

Following Brett’s example, Foster moved his hand as if pulling in a fish.

“That’s the way,” Brett said. “Courtship requires a series of quiet, thoughtful actions. You don’t want to be too obvious or you’ll scare her off. On the other hand, you don’t want to be too vague.”

Flash, who had been listening to this conversation with great interest, asked, “What do you mean by too vague.”

Before Brett could respond, Foster answered for him. “He means not to compare her to leather.”

While Flash puzzled over that, Foster asked, “Okay, so how much longer before I land the fish…uh…Katie?”

Brett rubbed his forehead and rued the day he set to work teaching Foster the fine rules of courtship. “Patience, my friend. Patience.”