Whistlin' Dixie (Tempered Steel Book 1) by Maggie Adams Page B

catch a movie with some of the guys in town. Don’t wait up.
    Looking around the empty house, Dixie decided she needed to get out. Sitting here pining for Mac wasn’t going to ease her heartache any time soon. She remembered the phone call from earlier and hit the voicemail.
    “Hey Dixie, it’s Jane. I was wondering if you’d be interested in attending an aerobics class with me tonight. I don’t want to go by myself.” Jane Hartley was the first person to welcome Dixie into town and had given her the idea about applying for the kindergarten teaching position. She was a friend. But still…
    “Yuck! The last thing I want to do is run around to ear shattering music while a maniacal Barbie doll tells me to work it harder, work it faster,” she mumbled back to the phone as she hit Jane’s number. “Hey Jane! I’m not so sure I’m ready for the whole leotard thing. Can’t I just meet you after for a drink?”
    “Please come! I’ve promised one of the mothers that I would attend her sessions and I can’t back down. I’ll look like a total wimp. It won’t be so bad,” Jane wheedled.
    Dixie sighed. “Oh all right, even though the last thing I want to do is exercise. Well, maybe the second to last. The last thing I want to do is stay home and think about Mac.”
    “Absolutely! It’s time to get up and get moving! On to bigger and better men!” Jane cheered.
    “I won’t leave this house until you promise not to go all crazy cheerleader on me,” Dixie threatened.
    Jane laughed. “I promise for tonight. But anything goes starting tomorrow!”
    Dixie groaned then hung up. An hour later, she was wiping sweat off her brow and thinking about Mac anyway.
    Panting to the count of eight as she struggled with a seemingly unending series of stomach crunches, she mumbled to Jane. “The only reason we count to eight is because she probably can’t count any higher.” She was in a bad mood and this definitely wasn’t helping. The instructor continued to count effortlessly. The beautiful, long-legged brunette wasn’t even out of breath and barely sweating. Of course, Barbie dolls don’t sweat. She was probably exactly Mac’s type.
    “I hate to break it to you, Dix, but not only can she count, she’s a professor at Principia College. An economics professor.” Jane groaned as she got to her feet for cool down. “And worse than that, before you came on the scene, she had been dating Mac.”
    Oh, that’s just peachy. Dixie frowned at her friend. “You couldn’t tell me that sooner?”
    Tall, thin, graceful and smart. How do I compete with that? Not that I’m trying. She can have him. Was she the one with him that night? Dixie reached for her toes as tears blurred her eyes. She wasn’t going to think about it, but she couldn’t help studying the instructor with new eyes.
    You are a masochist, Dixie Harris. You like pain. Otherwise, you would have left as soon as you found out who she was. Better yet, you should have never come here in the first place. Shoulda, woulda, coulda, but didn’t. It’s the story of your life !
    After class, Dixie hurried to gather her things and leave, hoping the instructor wouldn’t notice, but no hope there. She detached herself from the group and walked over to Dixie. “Hello,” she held out her hand. “I’m glad you could join us tonight. I’m Clarisse Van Dorn.”
    Dixie took the proffered hand, noting the long, perfectly manicured fingers and soft skin. Nothing at all like her short fingers and blunt, polish-free nails. “I’m Dixie Harris.”
    Clarisse smiled. “I know. You’re the woman who has Mac jumping through hoops.”
    Dixie turned red. “I’m sure you’re mistaken. Mac and I are merely acquaintances. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Dixie made to go, but Clarisse blocked her path.
    “Don’t worry. Mac and I were nothing more than a casual relationship at best. I think it’s great he’s found someone he truly cares for.”
    “He hasn’t, I mean, I’m