The band tuned up and played to a standing­-room-­only crowd. No one sat in the metal folding chairs along the walls. They stood around in their tight Western clothes, in groups of girls, groups of boys, and couples. No one danced. Everyone just shouldered through the crowd, milling about, and then, as if by signal, all of a sudden everyone was dancing. The dance floor expanded to the walls. What an odd ritual.

When the band took its first break, the hall emptied. Everyone went outside to smoke and steam off the sweat they’d garnered from dancing in close quarters. Many were becoming quite drunk and a few made lewd comments to me as they passed. Boyd brought me a cup of hot chocolate and sat on the table, looking at me.

“Bill will take over from you now. There won’t be many more people coming. A few, but not many. He’ll handle it.”

I sipped and nodded, watching the young people divide into more and more couples, saw the flirtatious looks, heard the laughter, saw many disappear around the corner, and I knew where they had gone. I shivered and crossed my arms. Boyd was still staring at me.

“Where are you from?”

“Pennsylvania.”

“Been here long?”

I shook my head.

“Here with family?”

“No,” I said. “I’m on my own. Right now I’m house-­sitting for a friend who’s in California.” I knew this surprised him, so I gave him my finest, most practiced defiant look, to quell the question before he asked it. He thought I was too young.

“So did you drive here?”

“Hitchhiked.”

“I’ll drive you home, then, after. Okay?”

I took a long time in answering. I wanted to be with him, oh, God, I wanted to be with him, but thoughts of Lewis flickered through my mind. There was no commitment here, I reminded myself—it was just a ride home. And if something better, more interesting, came along, well . . . I was not bound to him for the night, although I couldn’t imagine any­thing more interesting than this incredible man. Was it wise to take a ride with an unknown? Oh, Angelina, I thought. You’ve gotten so careful in your three months of domesticity. I knew I was fully capable of handling myself.

My answer may have wavered in my mind, but my eyes never strayed from his face. I saw when shyness began to creep in. He thought I might turn him down. “Okay,” I said.

His relief was evident. He smiled again, an inti­mate smile, a knowing smile. “So, go. Dance. Enjoy. And when we close up, I’ll meet you here.”