Will had seen Tomasina in chaps. He’d even seen her in a dress. He’d seen her in a simple calico shirtwaist during her short-lived employment as a laundress. He’d seen her in the severe black dress and white lace cap of the hotel maids.
However, he’d never seen her like this. Her curls were partially piled atop her head in a delightful halo, with a few pieces artfully arranged around her face. The length in the back had been gathered into a waterfall of corkscrew curls.
The dress featured a modest scooped neck lined with a ruffle in the same material as the overlay of the skirt. A wide satin belt with a gold buckle highlighted her tiny waist.
He’d always thought her lovely. Even that first day he’d been captivated by her luminous eyes. This was different. This was beyond anything he could have imagined. She didn’t even seem real. If he reached out and touched her arm, he feared she’d shatter like a porcelain doll. The man standing beside her said something, and she laughed. A light, lyrical sound.
But this was no porcelain doll. She was flesh and blood.
Her dress floated around her in an ethereal green shimmer. He admired once more how the delicate material draped her shoulders and nipped in at her waist.
She caught sight of him and glided forward. His gaze dropped and his fingers trembled. He longed to caress the auburn curl grazing her collarbone.
“Mr. Canfield,” she said, “you’re looking quite dashing tonight.”
Everything faded into the background. People pushed and jostled around them, and he willed them away.
“You are... You’re beautiful.”
She gently waved herself with an ivory-handled fan he hadn’t noticed before. “Don’t look quite so surprised. It’s rather ungentlemanly of you.”
“That dress. Your hair.” He was babbling. “How? When?”
“My goodness. I never thought to see you so put out by a drape of fabric and a bit of rice powder.” The fan ruffled those delightful curls. “I enjoy seeing you speechless.”
Everything about her was different. Her voice. Her carriage. Normally she leaned slightly forward, as though preparing for a race at every turn. Today she stood straight and proud, her shoulders thrown back, her head held high. The transformation was astonishing. Breathtaking.
The years melted away, and it was as though he was whole again. As though the war had never happened. As though he was still that naive bright-eyed fool who had no idea of the horrors in store for him; a green youth worshipping at the feet of a beautiful woman.
He savored the feeling.
A cowboy who’d started celebrating a little too early tripped into Tomasina. The man’s drink sloshed from his tin cup and splattered onto her pristine skirts. The cowboy groped for her arm and mumbled a slurred apology.
Tomasina’s lips whitened.
Will lunged. The cowboy stumbled again and the remainder of his drink splashed over her satin shoes.
Tomasina fisted her hand and socked the man in the shoulder. “You’ve ruined my best dress, you drunken oaf.”
The man tripped in reverse, caught his heel on an uneven tread and landed hard on his backside. His empty cup tumbled from his limp hand.
Partygoers gasped and murmured.
Tomasina caught Will’s astonished gaze, her brilliant green eyes wide with horror. With sudden insight Will recognized how important this evening was for her. All the changes he’d noticed hadn’t come easy. As the folks around them tittered, a fury of color spread across her delightful décolletage.
Grasping her arm, he gently hustled her toward the double doors of the Cattleman Hotel and away from the curious townsfolk. She didn’t deserve to have her evening ruined because of that clumsy fool.
Thankfully the lobby was far less crowded. She didn’t protest as he led her toward a banquette near the far wall.
Hannah Taggart was staring into the lobby mirror and pinching color into her cheeks when she caught sight of them. “Oh, my. What happened?”
“A little accident,” Will offered quickly. “Can you help?”
“I’m so sorry.” Tomasina reached for her roommate. “I know how much work you put into this dress. I wanted everything to be perfect.”
Hannah hustled over and knelt then grasped the damp skirts and wrinkled her nose. “Beer. Trust me, this isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever seen. Don’t worry. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
Simon appeared, straightening his cap, his gaze scanning the room.
He caught sight of Will and rushed over. “You’re needed, boss. They can’t start the ceremony without you. Everybody is waiting.”
“Then let them wait.”
He clasped Tomasina’s hand, massaging warmth into her icy fingers. He wanted to fix this for her. He wanted to turn back time and let her have her moment.
Tomasina glanced up. “Don’t worry, I’ll be all right.”
Only a slight sheen of tears revealed her distress.
He hesitated between his two commitments. Though she was in capable hands with Hannah, he was reluctant to leave.
Hannah pulled Tomasina to her feet, away from Will, and ushered her into the parlor.
Facing Will, Hannah spoke softly. “It’s best if you go. She’s been practicing her walk and her speech all day. She wanted everything to be perfect.”
“She is perfect. I mean, uh, she looks perfect.”
Hannah offered a rare smile. “We’ll meet you at the ceremony.”
He paused, staring at the younger woman.
Her smile.
That’s what had been missing. Hannah rarely smiled. The only time he’d ever seen her truly happy was when she was caring for Ava. Come to think of it, he’d assumed she was watching the baby tonight. When he’d mentioned the dance before, she hadn’t appeared interested in attending.
“Who’s watching the baby?” he asked.
“Mrs. Foster. I wanted... I was hoping to attend the dance. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not. Enjoy yourself, Hannah. If you need anything, let me know.”
Thank goodness. She was a prospective bride, after all. This was the first time she’d showed any interest in socializing. He should have noticed sooner that she was wearing a new peach-colored dress, as well. Her usual flounces and bows were gone, replaced by a modest bell skirt and V-necked bodice. Her hair was braided into an elaborate chignon, showing off the graceful curve of her neck.
“You look lovely,” he said. “Your skill as a seamstress is apparent. Is Tomasina’s dress your work?”
“Yes.”
“The design is inspired. You’re quite talented.”
Her smile was tinged with pride. “I sewed new dresses for several of the ladies attending this evening. I’m advertising for the new shop.”
Her shop. The Godwins. His whole brain had been muddled by the sight of Tomasina, and he’d forgotten all about his other worries. “Mr. Godwin told me about the difficulty with the deeds. I’ll speak to the bank and visit the land office first thing Monday morning.”
Simon cleared his throat. “You have to go, sir. You’re supposed to give the opening speech.”
He lingered a moment longer.
Hannah pushed on his shoulder. “Go. She’ll be fine. I’ll have her out dancing in no time.”
He followed Simon out the doors, his thoughts jumbled. A sweep of tenderness filled his heart. He’d kept a distance from Tomasina. Not physically, certainly, he’d ensured she was always underfoot. But he’d kept the distance in his thoughts. She was part of the prairie lands he’d grown to love. Exotic, wild and free.
He’d thought to protect her untamed spirit and to shelter her from the encroaching world. Yet she’d sidestepped all his boundaries, effortlessly crossing all the safeguards he’d imposed. She was neither drover nor sophisticated lady—she was an enchanting mixture of both worlds.
She navigated the gulf between classes with effortless ease. Despite her well-deserved outburst this evening, he admired her ability to speak with diverse groups of people. She wasn’t untamed; she was authentic.
She was captivating.
Simon tugged on his sleeve. “They’re waiting, Mr. Canfield.”
Tomasina easily fit into his world. Could he ever fit into hers?
* * *
Tomasina pounded her fist against her thigh. “I was doing so well. You woulda been so proud of me. I was pronouncing all my words and everything.” Hannah and Pippa had spent their free time over the past few days giving her lessons on decorum. As long as she spoke slowly and didn’t move too quickly, she could pass as a real lady. Except she didn’t suppose real ladies punched people. “That drunken fool ruined everything.”
Who could blame her for losing her temper?
“Nothing is ruined,” Hannah said in a soothing voice. “The dance hasn’t even started yet. There were only a few people who saw what happened. Rest assured Mr. Canfield will deal with that rowdy cowboy.”
“That clumsy oaf better not be around when I get back. I’ll trip him into the punch bowl.”
“Now, Tom. A lady always ensures her conduct is such that her inferiors may respect her.”
“He was inferior, all right. Especially after I socked him.”
Hannah gasped. “You didn’t.”
“Sat him right down in the dirt, I did.”
“Well, obviously he deserved what happened. A slight hiccup. Nothing more.”
“The kind of hiccup where you can hold your breath until it passes?”
“Something like that.”
While they’d been speaking, Hannah had wiped down her skirts with a damp towel. She sat back on her heels and waved them dry with her ivory-handled fan.
After a few minutes Hannah stilled her fanning and surveyed her work. “You’re good as new. We will begin again as though nothing happened.”
Tomasina planted her elbows on her knees and cupped her chin in her hands. “It’s too late. Will already seen me acting rough and tumble.”
Tonight of all nights she’d wanted him to see her as a lady. As someone who deserved respect. Not that he’d ever disrespected her. Far from it. He’d always treated her like a lady. That’s why she wanted to act like one.
“Mr. Canfield already saw you acting rough and tumble.” Hannah folded her fan. “A gentleman would never remark on a lady’s misfortune.”
Tomasina snorted. “A drover would never let me live it down.”
“Drovers are rude.” Hannah snapped her skirts aside and stood. “Drovers are uncouth, ungentlemanly, pigheaded fools.”
“Have you spent time at the stockyards? You described them just right.”
A gentle knock sounded, and Pippa appeared. “Come along, ladies. The town is absolutely swimming with eligible bachelors and, thanks to Hannah, we’re the belles of the ball.”
Hannah had chosen a daring shade of black cherry for Pippa’s dress. The bold color highlighted her strawberry-blond hair and brought out the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. Because of her slight frame, Hannah had added a peplum hem to the bodice and belted it with an embroidered sash. The neckline was draped a bit lower than Tomasina’s, with bows at the caps of her cutaway sleeves. The dress was as striking as her personality.
Suddenly shy, Hannah ducked her head. “I didn’t do anything very special.”
“Do be serious.” Pippa patted her elaborate coiffure, a mass of looped braids tumbling from a knot at the top of her head. “You did everything. There’s nothing I detest more than false modesty.” She flounced toward the door, gesturing over her shoulder. “Now come along, you two. No long faces. I’m not wasting this hair. We’re young, we’re unattached and this town is full of rich, eligible men.”
“Pippa!” Tomasina admonished. “We’re not cattle going to market.”
“All right then, we’re princesses at the ball.”
Tomasina frowned. “I don’t follow.”
“Didn’t you read fairy tales growing up?”
“No. My pa told me stories.”
“What kinds of stories?” Pippa asked.
“Like the time he was fetching water from the creek when he came across a mountain lion. That mountain lion chased him back to camp and up a tree. But the only tree he could find was barely taller than a buffalo and the mountain lion caught his boot and tugged. Then he’d say, ‘That mountain lion was pulling my leg, just like I’m pulling yours.’ That was a good one. That was one of my favorites.”
“Fascinating.” Pippa appeared slightly bewildered. “Let’s not waste any more time, ladies—we’re not getting any younger and neither are those cowboys.”
With her skirts dried and her decorum back in place, Tomasina threw back her shoulders and followed the other two outside once more. To walk like a lady, she simply had to think about her actions. The extra effort slowed her progress, which actually turned out to be a good thing. Evidently ladies did not gallop from place to place. Pippa had driven that point home several times. Tomasina had begun to wonder how ladies ever got anything done with all the rules they had to follow and the sedate pace they were bound to keep.
Most of the town had turned out for the event, and everyone had dressed in their finest. Even the drovers had come. She recognized several of the fellows and realized most of them had even bought new suits. With their hair washed and their beards trimmed, some even looked almost respectable. Tomasina caught a glimpse of James in his beaded vest with his tan Stetson. The moment he saw her he turned away.
Tomasina bit the inside of her lip until the pain replaced her angry betrayal. Really. The man was impossible. She was done trying to make peace with him. Will never turned his back on her. Even when he was angry after the trick riding show, he’d sought her out. And tonight. She pressed her trembling hands together. He’d been looking out for her tonight.
She shook out her hands. He looked out for everyone. She was nothing special to him, and she’d best remember that. He’d accepted her as a temporary resident of Cowboy Creek and he was watching out for her the same as everyone else.
The three women took their place in the crowd standing in front of the makeshift stage. Several of the men elbowed each other out of the way, doffing their hats and stepping back a proper distance. Tomasina patted her hair in an imitation of Pippa and glided toward the front of the stage. Some of the perks of dressing like a lady weren’t half-bad.
The three town founders took the stage, and her chest swelled. Will stood strong and tall, his hands clasped together over the handle of his walking stick. He didn’t stare at the crowd; his gaze remained fixed on the horizon. Her heart went out to him. He’d clearly rather blend in, but he was doing his duty as a town founder. While Will hid his unease, Noah fidgeted and tugged on his collar. Of the three men, Daniel appeared most comfortable, his hands stuffed in his pockets and an easy grin on his handsome face.
The three of them had the proud bearing of soldiers. The crowd grew hushed, and the town council presented the three men with a plaque.
Remmy Hagermann gave a long-winded speech about the future of the town. By the time he’d finished, the rest of the council waved off their opportunity to speak. With the sun sinking low on the horizon, the town council whipped off the sheet with a flourish and unveiled a brick monument at the corner of First and Eden in front of the bank.
A simple obelisk with a pointed tip nearly fifteen feet tall, the council had affixed a brass plaque featuring the three names of the town founders, with Noah’s name first. The three men shuffled their feet and admired the monument. John Cleve Parker set up his camera. After he’d arranged the men, he ducked beneath the black fabric drape and took the men’s photograph in a burst of flash powder. The crowd hollered for speeches from the men.
Noah declined to speak, instead thanking those assembled with a smile and a quick wave.
Daniel stepped forward. “Well, I’m sure glad we located this town by Cowboy Creek and not Skunk Valley.” As the crowd roared with laughter, he paused. “I served with Noah Burgess in the War Between the States, and I am proud to call him a friend. He settled here first and wrote letters describing the fruitful plains and fertile valley.
“I have to admit, when I got here, I thought he was drinking his own moonshine.” More laughter met his words. Everyone knew that Noah didn’t drink and he certainly didn’t own a still. “I’ve grown to love this place. I appreciate the land and the people who have the courage to settle this land. Thank you for this honor. May we prove worthy of your esteem.”
Enthusiastic applause followed his exit from the stage.
Will took his place and cleared his throat. “Towns like this are like families. We see before us the past, the present and the future. With each new generation, we will remember the folks who came before us. We will honor the sacrifices they made, and we will carry their spirit with us. A hundred years from now, a family will pass by this monument and recall our names, and the legacy of Cowboy Creek will live on. Because the future is built on the ruins of the past. May we inspire the dreams of those who look upon this enduring legacy. As long as we always dream a little bigger than the generation before us, Cowboy Creek will survive and thrive.”
Raucous applause sounded at his words. Tomasina blinked rapidly. Will Canfield was a man building a legacy. Her enthusiasm waned, and when Pippa and Hannah left for the dance floor, she stayed behind.
As dusk fell low over the horizon, the men lit hanging lanterns, bathing the scene in a soft glow. At first the men and women lined up across the dance floor from each other like children at a school dance. Two or three lively reels later the floor was full. Tomasina fended off a few ardent suitors before taking a seat on a bench in the shadows.
Bracing her hands behind her, she watched the dancers from a distance, her toes tapping the cheerful rhythm.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” A familiar voice spoke. “Surely you’re not lacking for partners.”
Tomasina glanced up. “I don’t dance. Pippa and Hannah offered to teach me, but there’s only so much a body can learn in a few days. I was busy trying to walk and talk properly. Adding the dancing was too much. I don’t mind. I like watching everyone else.”
Will indicated the empty seat beside her. “Do you mind if I join you?”
Scooting a little, she made more room. “Of course not. Have a rest.”
“The old injury is worse at the end of the day.” He sat, one leg bent, the other stretched out. “I was quite the dancer before the war.”
Tomasina elbowed him. “You’re fooling me. I can’t picture you dancing.”
“Not at all. There’s no better way to woo a pretty girl than sweeping her around the dance floor.” He absently rubbed his thigh. “Look at that. Miss Ewing is dancing with Mr. Gardner.”
“Who are they?”
Will pointed out the couple. “Miss Ewing has been assisting Daniel and Leah until their baby arrives. Oliver is Daniel’s father. A widower. We may have another wedding before long.”
“Cowboy Creek is bringing romance to the West.”
“One couple at a time.”
“You are a romantic, Will Canfield. Quit denying it.” Still feeling like a first-rate heel for reminding him of his injury, Tomasina stared at her satin slippers. “You could still dance now, if you wanted.”
“No. Those days are gone. Before the war I’d never have imagined I’d miss something as simple as a turn around the dance floor. I took so much for granted.”
Pippa swept by in a lively jig with a handsome drover. The two attacked the dance with more enthusiasm than grace.
“What do you miss most of all?” Tomasina asked softly. “From how life was before the war?”
“My family, I suppose. I was an only child. My parents were older. I think they’d given up on ever having children. I must have been quite a surprise to them.” He exhaled slowly, hesitating a moment before continuing. “I was always self-conscious growing up. The other children assumed my parents were my grandparents, and I rarely corrected the mistake. I was too selfish to understand how much that hurt them. They doted on me.”
“They’re gone, then?”
He nodded. “My mother died shortly before the war began. My father soon after. Daniel and I had already enlisted. My father was proud of me, but worried. I assured him the war would be over in a matter of weeks. He died without knowing how wrong I was.”
“Why didn’t you go home again?”
“Home is family. My family was gone. I had served with Daniel and Noah. Noah was here, and Daniel and I followed. I haven’t been back east since.” He turned toward her, his dark eyes searching hers. “What about you? Where did you grow up?”
“Nowhere. Everywhere. My mother died when I was young. Me and Pa lived with his sister for a spell. Then she found a fellow of her own and got hitched. She offered to take me with her, but Pa wasn’t having any of it at first. He tried his hand at farming, but he wasn’t much good. Eventually he left me with my aunt and her new husband and joined a cattle drive.”
“Left you behind? And how did you feel about that?”
“How do you think?” she asked with a scowl. “I was just nine years old, but I refused to wait around for my pa. Rode my little pony six miles to catch up. The other fellows thought it was funny, having a little girl on the trail. They looked out for me. That’s how it’s been ever since. Me and him.”
“I heard your father passed away recently. You promised to tell me about him.”
“I miss him.” The hollow pang was there, though not as strong as before. “His death was peaceful. He went to bed one night and didn’t wake up come morning. He’s home now.”
“It’s difficult, losing someone. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“People think grief is a wound and, when the wound heals, you go on like before. I think it’s more like losing a limb. The pain eases, but you’re never the same. You have to figure out a different way of doing things. You have to learn a new way of surviving.” Her voice faltered, and she swallowed hard. “You go on, but there’s always something missing. Take what happened to your leg. You healed, but there’s always a hitch in your step. Grief is the same way.”
“Is that a weakness? I’ve always wondered.”
“It’s a strength. Only broken men thrive out West. Because broken men know how to survive.”
“You’re a survivor. Does that mean you’re broken, Miss Stone?”