Ruth Ann smiled, thankful for her sister’s encouraging words.
Sarah patted her shoulder. “We can’t procrastinate any longer. It’s time to get this over with.”
Ruth Ann sighed and moved to the end of the bed. She gripped the footboard then glanced over her shoulder. “Not too tight, all right, Sarah?”
~*~
Benjamin hurried his pace. He’d been promised the first dance, and he didn’t intend to miss it. Although the crickets and bullfrogs serenaded him as he walked, he preferred the melodies of the banjos and fiddles for dancing tonight. He glanced toward the late September sky. Stars abounded. The perfect night to woo a woman, and if things worked out as he hoped, Benjamin intended to do just that.
He paused before entering the barn and smoothed his hands over his hair, making sure the pomade held his newly shorn locks in place. Satisfied, he took a deep breath and reached for the latch. The noisy chatter of the crowd inside Dillon’s barn filled him with anticipation. His palms were sweaty, and his pulse thundered in his ears. C’mon Coulter, you’ve taken a turn with lots of pretty girls in the dance halls of central Texas. But that was just it—Miss Sutton was no dance hall girl.
Benjamin moved along the wall, nodding at passersby, until he spotted her with several people on the far side of the barn. His heart skipped. She’d loosely pinned her hair—allowing those twisted tresses to dangle. Several loose strands framed her face. She looked so pretty in the soft light from the candles and lanterns lighting the dance floor that, for a moment, he was content just to watch her.
Another fella stepped forward and scribbled on her dance card. Benjamin’s throat tightened. He’d better get over there before that claim jumper took all her dances.
Their gazes caught.
Benjamin waved, but she didn’t acknowledge him. He glanced down at his attire—tan vest, tan and brown plaid shirt, black necktie, dark brown trousers and boots. Nothing appeared out of place. Why had she looked away?
~*~
Ruth Ann slipped the dance card from her wrist. “Thank you, Nate. Any dance but the first, I promised that one already.”
Nate raised a brow as he signed his name. “Anyone I know?”
He and his older brother, Elias, had been her friends since childhood. Nate was the brother she never had. At least not until Sarah had married Joseph. “Maybe.” She grinned. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Elias joined the group with drinks for the ladies. She thanked him then scanned the barn hoping to spy Mr. Coulter. At well over six feet, he shouldn’t be hard to find. While the banjos and fiddles tuned their instruments, she craned her neck in all directions. Nowhere in sight. What if he’d changed his mind and didn’t come? Or worse, what if he came but changed his mind about taking a turn with her? Her stomach churned, and she forced herself to swallow the spiced cider.
Frannie tugged on her dress sleeve. “I think that man is trying to get your attention.”
Ruth Ann tilted her head to see past Elias. A stranger waved from across the barn. Her eyes narrowed. “That’s odd. I’ve never seen him before.”
Charlotte followed Ruth Ann’s gaze until it rested on the man under scrutiny. She chuckled. “Well, Mr. Coulter will be sorely disappointed to hear that. He told me you promised him the first dance.”
Ruth Ann snapped her head in the stranger’s direction. Her jaw dropped so far it nearly came unhinged. Benjamin Coulter? His long hair...his scraggly beard...gone? Shaky hands threatened to wash the cider over the side of her full cup.
Frannie reached for her drink. “I’ll take that.”
Her eyes darted to Frannie as she nodded, unable to form an intelligible word. Her gaze returned to him, now only a few feet away. Her pulse charged through her veins as she gulped down a breath. He was the handsomest man in the room, and he was coming to claim a dance with her.
~*~
“Hello, Miss Sutton,” Benjamin greeted.
She smiled, one dimple gracing her left cheek.
“Mr. Coulter.”
Charlotte cleared her throat. “Perhaps you could introduce him to your friends.”
“Oh, yes. Mr. Coulter is a surveyor with a land-mapping agency. You know Charlotte from the boardinghouse and this is my dear friend, Maggie Wythe and her beau, Edward Simms.” She pulled the blonde woman closer. “This is Edward’s younger sister, Frannie.” She pointed to the gentlemen beside her and continued with the introductions. This is Nate Hamilton and his brother Elias. Their family owns a dairy farm north of town.”
He shook hands with the men but eyed the younger Hamilton especially close. Nate had been the one signing Miss Sutton’s dance card. He still had a baby face. Probably couldn’t grow a beard if he tried. Relieved, Benjamin rubbed his naked jaw, still getting used to his clean-shaven face. He had a good four inches on the young buck, too, but still, it would be wise to keep Miss Sutton away from him as much as possible.
The music started in earnest, and Edward swept Maggie onto the dance floor, followed by Elias and Charlotte.
Benjamin reached for her hand. “I believe this dance is—”
Miss Simms jerked on Miss Sutton’s sleeve and pointed behind Nate.
As Miss Sutton’s eyes widened, Benjamin glanced over his shoulder hoping to discover what had alarmed her. A man, appearing way overdressed for the simple country barn dance, headed in their direction. Benjamin didn't know who he was, or how Ruth Ann and the others knew him, but it was clear they did.
Miss Simms’ hand covered her mouth as she whispered in Miss Sutton’s ear.
Miss Sutton shook her head. “Surely, he won't ask me, not after...”
Benjamin couldn’t make out the rest of her words. He looked helplessly toward Nate, hoping he could shed some light on why the appearance of this gentleman seemed to be causing such a stir among the ladies.
Nate rolled his eyes. “Great. I was hoping Thornton would remain in Richmond.”
Before Benjamin could ask who this peacock Thornton was, he had swooped in, eyeing Miss Sutton.
“Hello, Nate. Ladies.” He tipped his head in the general direction of the women then held out his hand to Benjamin. “James Thornton.”
“Benjamin Coulter.” Benjamin squeezed the stranger’s hand more firmly than necessary. He wasn’t sure why, but he took a measure of delight in the man’s wince before he released his grip.
“Hello, Ruth. You look lovely, as always.”
Ruth? Who did this dandy think he was, referring to Miss Sutton by her Christian name?
Thornton reached for her wrist and examined her dance card. “Excellent. You’re free.” He signed his name in the empty space. “Shall we dance?”
Her eyes landed on Benjamin’s, overflowing with confusion and disappointment.
He stepped forward. “See here, Thornton. Miss Sutton and I have an understanding. She’s promised the first dance to me.”
Thornton slipped the card from her wrist and waggled in front of him. “That’s not what this says. If you want to claim a dance, you sign the lady’s card.” He tucked the card in Benjamin’s vest pocket and pulled Miss Sutton toward the dance floor.
Benjamin's jaw tightened. He ran his fingers along the inside of his collar which suddenly attempted to strangle him. “Would someone please tell me who James Thornton is?”
“He’s Ruth Ann's former beau.” Miss Simms leaned forward. “But you have nothing to worry about. He proposed to Ruth Ann a few months ago, and she refused him.”
Benjamin’s gaze remained fixed to the dance floor. “It doesn't look that way to me.”
Nate shook his head. “Well, what do you know about that? The entire town assumed it was James who had ended their courtship.” Nate chuckled. “Ruth Ann declined a Thornton? She's always had her own mind about her.”
The fiddlers rested their bows against the strings of their instruments as the banjos picked the last notes of the song. Thornton escorted Miss Sutton to the punch table.
Nate rubbed
his hands together. “I’m up next. Ruth Ann promised the second dance to me.”
Benjamin put his hand against Nate’s arm. “Hold up.” He yanked her dance card from his pocket and scanned the list of names already written. “Sorry.” He tore the card in two and handed it to Nate. “Not tonight.” Benjamin pivoted on the heel of his boot, determination pounding in his veins. He would step out of the way if she had a beau, but he wasn’t going to sit idle while some dandy she’d rejected took another shot.
~*~
Ruth Ann glanced over her shoulder. Mr. Coulter ripped something between his fingers. Was that her dance card? Was he as mad about James claiming her first dance as she was? Please don’t leave.
“Ruth? I asked if you’d like a cup of cider.”
“Hmmm. Oh, no, thank you.”
“Fine. Let’s sit over there.” He directed her to a couple of empty hay bales in the corner. James took her hand in his. “I made a special trip home for this dance. It’s been a few weeks since our discussion of marriage.”
She tried to wriggle her hand loose from his grip. Who could see them?
James tightened his hold. “I am confident by now you realize the sensibility of my proposal and regret your previous decision. Therefore, I have decided to allow you to reconsider.”
She closed her eyes and pressed her lips firmly together, willing herself to stay calm. The audacity of this man not only to assume she would have changed her mind, but that he would address such a private matter in a public setting. What was she to say? What words could she use to make him understand that she wouldn’t marry him?
“James, I’m flattered that you would renew your intentions toward me, but I ...”
“Excuse me, Miss Sutton.” Mr. Coulter extended his hand. “Would you join me in a fast-moving two-step?”
Unsure how to respond, Ruth Ann’s gaze flitted between the two men. Her etiquette book had never addressed this predicament.
James stood, hands on hips, preventing the black jacket of his tailored suit to close over his red jacquard vest. “See here, Coulter. Ruth and I were having an important conversation.”
“Well, I'm sure it can wait. How important can it be if it's had in the middle of Dillon's barn?”
Beyond his shoulder, she caught a glimpse of her mother, eyes fixed on the trio. Mama shook her head and nodded toward James. She must have known he was coming to the dance. She’d probably been encouraging him to renew his affections.
Ruth Ann’s gaze drifted to Mr. Coulter’s open palm. He probably wasn’t aware of it, but he was offering her more than a dance. He was offering her a choice. A choice she wanted to make. “Thank you, Mr. Coulter. I'd like that very much.” She placed her hand in his, dispelling any hesitation. “James, it was nice seeing you again. Thank you for the dance.”
After the little scene with James, more than a few pairs of eyes were on them. As they stepped onto the crowded dance floor, Benjamin slipped his arm around her waist and twirled her toward him. Before long the two were gliding, spinning, and circling the dance floor as if they were riding a carousel. She would remember this dance the rest of her life.
Three dances later, Benjamin had finally relinquished his hold on her. Guiding her by the elbow, he led her to the table laden with refreshments. He dropped a coin in the open cigar box and grabbed two cups of cider. “Would you like to step outside? There’s a nice breeze tonight.”
Crowded with people, the barn was stifling, yet she hesitated, unsure if she should leave the dance unchaperoned. Across the dance floor, she spied James moving toward them. “Y-yes. That would be nice.” After taking the cup he offered, she waited while he opened the door. She stepped through and a star-studded canopy greeted her.
Ruth Ann sighed. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”
“Yes.”
The soft whisper of his voice drew her eyes toward him. He was studying her. She glanced away, glad for the darkness that hid the warmth creeping across her cheeks.
Mr. Coulter narrowed the distance between them.
Heart pounding, she gulped her cider.
He took the cup from her hand and set it on a nearby tree stump along with his own.
Ruth Ann swallowed hard and tried to calm her quivering insides. The light of the half-moon shone on his face. His eyes softened as he tucked a loose curl behind her ear. His feathery touch made her pulse skitter. When her lips parted, Benjamin leaned forward. His lips slowly descended towards hers.
He’s going to kiss me!
She wasn’t ready to be kissed-yet. Just as his mouth neared her own, she jerked her head to the side and his lips found her jaw instead. Mortified, she hid her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, peeking between splayed fingers.
He shook his head, mirth dancing in his eyes. “No apologies necessary.”
She lowered her hands, confident her face glowed red like the setting sun. Her heart thundered in her chest. Why had she recoiled? She already regretted that decision.
“I guess it’s no secret how I feel about you. The only question left is, do you feel the same about me?”
Resisting the urge to shout yes and throw herself into his arms, she managed to nod in response to his question. She glanced away, her tone softening. “I like you Mr. Coulter, but I enjoy my position at the Freedmen’s School, and I don’t have any intention of quitting in the near future.”
“I realize where your heart lies, Miss Sutton.”
Her head snapped in his direction. “Then you have no objections?”
Shaking his head, he inched closer. “As a schoolmarm, are you allowed to keep company with men?”
“It wasn’t allowed according to the terms of my contract with the Graded School. However, Mr. Janney was desperate to find a teacher and since I was already courting James, the only social restrictions pertain to drinking alcohol and scandalous behavior.”
A cocky grin spread across his face. “Then if it’s not too scandalous, I’d like to call on you regular.”
She wanted to pinch herself. This couldn’t be happening—not to her.
~*~
Benjamin swiped damp palms against his vest. Tiny rivulets of moisture formed above his lip while she contemplated her answer. Why had he tried to kiss her so soon? He knew better than that. She wasn’t one of the cheap women he’d known in Texas. She was a lady, and ladies liked to take things slow.
He couldn’t read anything in her eyes. No hint of what her answer might be. What if she said no? She sure was pretty standing in the starlight, ringlets bobbing with the slightest tilt of her head. Artie’s words shoved their way into his thoughts. God didn’t make women with ample figures like that for marryin’ boy. You oughta know that. She may be a little more generously proportioned than some women, but he liked her curves. And there were worse qualities—like a woman who only wanted a man who earned lots of money. Marcy had taught him that lesson.
She pursed her full red lips before she spoke. “What exactly do you mean, ‘call on me regular’?”
He didn’t doubt for a minute that Miss Sutton understood what he was asking, but she was going to make him say it. She would definitely keep him on his toes. Then again, he liked spirit in a woman. “I’m saying I’d like to ask permission to court you proper, Miss Sutton. That is, if you’re friendly to the idea.”
Her eyes grew bright, and she flashed him one of those two-dimple smiles he’d come to adore. “I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more.”
Benjamin released a breath. “Wonderful. I’d like to stop by tomorrow and speak to your father.”
She looked away, thumbing the gold locket that adorned her neck. “My father passed when I was thirteen.”
He reached for her hand. It fit perfectly, as if designed to complement his own. “I’m sorry.”
She threaded her fingers between his and squeezed. “In many ways, you remind me of him. Papa was a hard worker, intelligent, and most of all—he had a keen wit.” She grasped the ne
cklace. “This was the last present he gave me.”
“It’s lovely.”
Moisture glistened in her lashes. “Thank you.” She laid it gently against her shirtwaist and smiled. “If you’re wanting to come calling, then you’ll need to speak to Joseph.”
Great. Just when things were going so well. Joseph Palmer—owner of the livery where he’d been drinking, gambling, and fighting with Artie and the others.
“Is there a problem, Mr. Coulter? You met Joseph at the Freedmen’s School. The two of you appeared to get along fine.”
Benjamin scraped his hand along his jaw. There was no getting around it. He’d have to tell her of his behavior when he’d like nothing more than to forget his stupidity. But if he wanted to honor God and have a shot with Miss Sutton, honesty was the only way. If she rejected him, better to find out now before he grew any fonder of the lady. He motioned toward the stump with his hand then picked up their cups. “Have a seat.”
He peered into her empty cup. “Still thirsty?”
She nodded.
He poured some of his cider into her cup before he spoke. “You should know that a while back I was involved in a scuffle at the livery. I’d been drinking a little and gambling, and one of the men pushed me too far. I have a short temper when I drink. A brief fight broke out, and the foreman asked us to leave.” He folded his arms across his chest. “So it's possible Joseph will say no.”
She lowered the cup from her lips, a slight frown etching her features. “Do you drink and gamble frequently, Mr. Coulter?”
“Until recently…yes. When I came to Virginia, I was in a bad way. It had been a long time since I had stepped inside a church. My actions surely demonstrated that. I’d taken to drinking to dull the pain of the war. Gambling soon followed.”
Miss Sutton tilted her head and idly ran her finger over the rim of her cup, maintaining her silence. The faint echo of fiddles and laughter from inside Dillon’s barn filled the night. Only her sigh broke the quiet between them. Her disappointment hung heavy in the air like the mournful croaking of the bullfrogs from the nearby pond.
He ran his fingers through his hair. So that was it. His past would be too much for a lady like Miss Sutton to overlook.
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