"He's coming over here!" Janie murmured beneath her breath.
"Ow!" Liza rubbed the inside of her upper arm, where her sister had just pinched her. Mama was wearing too much cologne, and she wished for a breath of fresh outside air.
"Wait, they're stopping."
Liza's heart banged against her ribcage. "Who?" She looked at the crowd and tried to figure out who Janie was looking at.
Surely not the dark-haired man. The handsome one with the shadow of stubble at his jaw and the intense eyes.
"That's Mr. Bingley," Mama gasped. "The blond man. And his sister with him."
Liza glanced at Janie beside her. Her fair-skinned sister was blushing. Janie was interested in someone. Perfect.
Another glance into the crowd showed that the dark man was in fact accompanying the fair-haired siblings. Curiosity peaked. Who was he?
Mama was speaking again. "The man with them is Rob Darcy. He's rumored to be even richer than Mr. Bingley, supposed to have a nice ranch up near Sheridan."
Mama was getting excited, and Liza felt herself coloring as Mama's voice rose.
And kept rising. "And he's the marshal's brother."
It seemed Liza's fear that her mother would be overheard was well-founded, because Mr. Darcy grimaced as the trio neared.
As usual, Mama was oblivious. She reached out for the men before they'd finished their approach. Liza turned her head at the last moment. She couldn’t watch.
"Mr. Bingley. Mr. Darcy. What an honor to meet you," Mama bubbled. "I am Maude Bennett. My husband owns the leather goods shop here in Calvin. These are my two oldest daughters, Janie and Liza."
Liza faced the men, feeling as if she were moving through a vat of molasses. Goose-pimples crawled up her arms. She lifted her eyes.
Her gaze collided with Rob Darcy's. Time stilled. His eyes spoke to her.
Vaguely, as if from a far distance, she heard Mr. Bingley say, "My sister, Mindy."
Liza still couldn't look away from Mr. Darcy. Something passed between them, a moment of connection, as if he were a kindred spirit.
And then her mother's voice broke into the moment.
"My two youngest daughters are already dancing."
Shaken, trembling but attempting to cover it, Liza glanced at Janie, who stared at Nathan Bingley with rapt attention. While Mr. Bingley was certainly attractive, Mr. Darcy was something more. Rugged, handsome. Intense. He was a bit older than she'd first thought; tiny lines fanned from the corners of his eyes as if he spent time outdoors.
"Would you share a dance with me?" Mr. Bingley swept Janie into the swirling crowd, leaving his sister behind and Mr. Darcy at Liza's side.
She waited for a similar invitation, but none was forthcoming. Finally, Liza asked, "Do you enjoy dancing, Mr. Darcy?"
"Not as a rule."
Stung at his cool tone, Liza turned back to look at the dancers, but not before she saw Mindy Bingley’s faint smirk.
Maybe he hadn't felt anything at all. Maybe Liza’s imagination had run away with her. Before she'd known how dire the situation was for Papa's store, she'd loved to spend afternoons reading, lost in fanciful imaginations. Perhaps the connection she thought she'd felt had only been in her head.
Liza made herself keep her gaze forward. She found Janie in the crowd. Her sister beamed up at Nathan Bingley. Janie was practically glowing.
And Mr. Bingley seemed to return the sentiment. He stared down at Janie as if she were a treasure he'd found after searching his entire life.
Perhaps here was a man worthy of her sister. It was too soon to tell, but Liza would hope so, for her sister's sake.
Nearby, Mama's voice rattled over the sounds of the crowd, slightly discordant. Distracted by neighbors and friends, she was soon safely away from Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley.
Liza loved her mother dearly, but she refused to allow Janie to be embarrassed. Not tonight. Liza could corral Mama and keep her away from Nathan Bingley, at least until he had adequate time to become smitten with Janie. Judging by his expression, it shouldn't take long.
She left the still-silent Mr. Darcy and his companion behind, a little knot in her stomach urging her to remain, imagined connection or not.
But Janie's happiness was more important than Liza's imaginations.
Nathan's heart raced as Janie twirled in his arms and the music from the fiddle and banjo faded away.
She beamed up at him, her cheeks flushed and one blond curl escaping from her coif to lie against her cheek.
His heart galloped like a horse that'd tossed its rider and run free. Meeting someone was not in his plan. What was he doing?
Some of the quick trepidation must've shown, because her expression clouded over, the beautiful smile muted.
"Thank you for the dance," she said so softly that he was more reading the words on her lips than hearing them over the cacophony of voices in the crowded room.
He didn't want her to walk away. He wanted to see her smile return.
"Does your father own land nearby?" he asked. If she lived close enough to the Parrott ranch, he might come calling.
"Papa owns the saddlery in town. We sell leather goods of all sorts. And do repairs."
That's right. A shopkeepers daughter. Her mother had mentioned that in her brief introduction.
"Ah. You probably meet a lot of folks, then." What he really wanted to ask was whether she had a beau. Whether one of the many cowboys or rancher's sons or bankers stopped in at the store regularly to chat and flirt.
But he wasn't quite sure how to word it without being presumptuous.
"And you've come to consider purchasing the Parrott land?"
For a moment, unease flared at her innocent question. Remembering Hildy as she clung to his arm at a dance just like this... He blinked the memory away.
Janie Bennett was not like Hildy. Probably not.
He didn't actually know Janie. She seemed innocent enough. Perhaps she’d voiced the question to be polite.
The fortune-hunters were the reason he and Rob had circulated the rumor that he was only viewing the Parrott spread. In fact, he'd already purchased the land, a few stock horses, and all the cattle outright.
It had been Rob's idea. And Nathan valued his friend's advice more than anything else. Rob was five years older, and Nathan had worked on his spread in northern Wyoming for years. While the other cowhands had come and gone, some settling on their own homesteads, some drifting off to find more adventure, Nathan had stayed.
He'd had nowhere else to go.
When his half-sister Mindy had arrived on Rob's doorstep months ago with a letter and news of Nathan's inheritance, it had been a shock. Rob had advised him and come up with the plan to put Nathan's funds to work. He’d believed in Nathan when no one else ever had.
"Miss Bennett, can I have a dance?" A cowboy in a simple blue shirt and denims stood beside them.
Nathan realized he'd wandered off in his own thoughts and that her smile had faltered further.
And then an older woman, a mama with a gleam in her eye who made him want to recoil, approached from Nathan's other side.
"Mr. Bingley. Oh, Mr. Bingley, allow me to introduce my daughter…"
Politeness dictated that he smile at her. Over her shoulder, he saw Janie glance back at him, and he nodded to her.
He wanted to dance with her again.
Wanted to have a longer conversation.
Wanted her all to himself.
"What a dreadful event,” Mindy said. “I've had enough of rough cowhands."
Rob agreed. After two hours of making small talk, his patience was used up. Give him a lariat, branding iron, or shovel. He excelled at ranching. He'd never gained mastery over social graces. He blamed his upbringing—too many years spent isolated on a ranch when he was young.
Miss Liza Bennett had kept a good distance between them since that horrid introduction.
He'd felt a keen, queer sense of loss when she'd slipped through the crowd, drawing her mother away by the arm. As if she'd escaped with most of the room's light in her smile. It was dim without her near.
Until now, he'd been acutely aware of her presence in the room. She danced almost as often as she laughed. She had a distinct, tinkling way of expressing her merriment. She swirled through the large room, effervescent with joy.
It made him feel old.
He was likely a decade her senior, but the difference seemed starker in light of her joy.
Once, he'd almost gathered his courage to ask her to dance.
Which was patently ridiculous. If her gold-digging mother got any hint of his attraction to her daughter, he’d be like a horse pursued like a persistent horse-fly. Bad enough that Nathan had danced with her sister. Multiple times.
Nathan didn't seem to think the night had been wasted. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from Janie Bennett. Janie was indeed nice to look at, but she was nothing compared to her sister.
Not that Rob would do anything about it. He might have a large, beautiful spread, but he had nothing to offer a woman like Liza Bennett.
Better to focus on Nate, the reason he'd come.
Mindy snagged her brother by the arm and dragged him through the door. Nate seemed surprised to find the crowd dispersing out of the dance hall and into the street, where they were waving goodbyes and heading back to their homes.
"What fun!" Nate crowed. "I think I danced every dance." Most with Janie Bennett. Rob had yet to determine if that was a good or bad thing.
"You did." But Rob couldn't begrudge his friend a good time, even if he'd been miserable. That's what he got for thinking so much.
Nate grinned. "No wonder I've got a blister inside my boot." He slapped Rob's shoulder. "You should've danced more—"
"Or at all," Mindy mumbled.
Rob ignored her. She was Nate's problem, not his.
"There were an awful lot of pretty girls," Nate continued, seeming not to hear his sister. "Like Janie's sister." Nate smiled slyly.
For a moment, Rob wondered if Nate had seen the instant connection between himself and Liza Bennett. Which made him wonder if she'd noticed. Surely not.
But a glance at Nate showed he was lost in thought. Probably thinking of Janie. Redirection was definitely called for.
"She was passable. Maybe if she'd been more of a temptation, I would've danced with her."
Mindy's eyes cut behind his shoulder, and Rob turned his head—just in time to lock gazes with the very girl he'd just spoken of. The Bennett family must've exited the dance hall just after the Bingleys had.
He winced as the tic in her jaw made it clear she'd heard every word, though none of her sisters or mother seemed to be paying attention.
Even he knew that insulting the fairer sex was uncouth.
He braced himself for a tearful scene, but she only turned her face away and walked down the boardwalk with her family.
He stared after her as Nate handed Mindy into the buggy.
This was further evidence of what he already knew. He wasn't gentle enough, had no social graces to woo a woman. He'd given up on making a match long ago. Right after he'd nearly killed his younger sister.
He didn't understand women. Never would.
Better to keep a safe distance.