Cowboy Pride

by Lacy Williams

  She broke into another fit of coughing, using her wrist and forearm to try and block the smoke that only seemed heavier. There were two horses left.

  When her coughs had subsided, she looked up to see a hand outstretched.

  But it wasn't Nathan.

  It was Rob, and his face was a thundercloud.

  "I don't suppose you'd leave if I demanded it," he said as she allowed him to assist her to her feet.

  She shook her head.

  They separated and released the last two horses just as an ominous creak from overhead sounded. The building shifted, and a curtain of sparks flew down in a wicked spiral. Her heart crashed against her ribs.

  "Let's go." He took her arm in his big hand, but she'd seen the two saddles—hers and Janie's—resting on an empty stall partition. She wrenched out of his grip and raced forward to grab one of them. Each saddle meant weeks of work, and if she could save one...

  She heard an audible sigh from the man behind her, but as she turned with the heavy saddle in her arms, he was there to pick up the second one.

  They raced for the door even as another shower of sparks descended.

  As they passed into the fresh air, the building gave another groan, and the ceiling caved in, dropping fire, boards, and sparks all around.

  Liza stumbled toward the house, her lungs and throat burning, her eyes watering. She dropped the saddle halfway across the yard. Rob did the same, turning on her and clutching her shoulders.

  "That was incredibly stupid," he boomed. His eyes were as wild as the horse that'd knocked her down.

  She shook off his hold and took a step back. Her own terror manifested in sharp words. "The saddles were right there. And we were leaving the building anyway. They take weeks to create. And I can't afford to lose them."

  Her tirade over, she dissolved into another bout of coughing.

  Rob was staring at her, his eyes unfathomable, still breathing with difficulty, as affected by the smoke as she had been.

  "Rob!" Nathan called, and the moment was broken as the rancher joined his friend to carry buckets from the trough—where Mindy still pumped, bless her—to the burning barn. The horses ran free in the field behind, tossing their heads and prancing nervously.

  She'd join the men in a moment, but for now stood with her hands propped on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

  She studied the structure and knew theirs was a losing endeavor. Fire licked up one entire wall of the barn, and the ceiling had already collapsed.

  Poor Nathan.

  * * *

  It would be a long time before Rob forgot Liza's soot-smudged face and the fierceness in her voice when she'd berated him.

  Nathan's barn was a total loss. The nearest neighbors had arrived just after the roof had collapsed and the sky dumped its load of rain.

  He'd stood beside Nathan and watched the structure fall. With the rains, the grass had been wet enough to keep the fire from spreading to the house and the fields. But Nathan's devastation had been plain to see. Losing the season's hay and the structure itself was a huge setback.

  Rob had planned to return home after delivering the two Bennett sisters back to Calvin, but now his plans were on hold. He wouldn't leave Nathan in such a pickle. He was a better friend than that. Besides, his ranch foreman had things well under control.

  Rob and another neighbor had made quick repair to the corral, and now Rob rode out in the falling dark to round up the horses he and Liza—mostly Liza—had set loose.

  The first two had come easily at his whistle, but the four remaining animals were skittish after the fire earlier, and that required he give chase. They couldn't run forever.

  Unfortunately, the task gave him too much time to think about Liza Bennett.

  From that first night when he’d learned she was Maude's daughter, he'd judged her.

  But the Liza he'd come to know on Nate's ranch was a surprise. She'd been a fierce protector for her sister and had stubbornly doctored Janie all night long. She'd pitched in immediately to help with breakfast chores, not allowing herself to be treated as a guest in Nate's home.

  And then this afternoon, she'd wrangled Mindy to help put the fire out when they'd needed it most, not giving the other girl a chance to refuse.

  Finally, she'd run into the burning barn, put herself in danger, to save the horses. She could have just saved her father’s two, but she’d stayed, freed them all.

  And the vulnerability in her expression when she'd revealed that her family couldn't afford to lose two saddles...

  He was quite sure she hadn't meant for him to see that.

  Now that he knew, he couldn't forget.

  Liza was real. She was something special.

  And he'd been making missteps since the first moment they'd met.

  Chapter 9

  The second morning after the fire, Janie worked at hanging clean laundry on the line outside Nathan's house. Across the yard, the remains of the barn—one wall remained standing above the rubble—were charred and dark.

  With the second round of storms, the creek had continued to flood its banks. And the two men had been working nonstop all day yesterday, with no time to deliver the women to town, even if the creek had subsided.

  There was no way Janie was getting on a horse by herself anytime soon.

  One pair of men's pants, the soot washed away under Liza's hands inside. One man's shirt. Bedsheets that still smelled slightly of smoke.

  The simple task made her shoulder ache and stole her breath. She bent in half, pressing her hand against her burning chest. With the sheets blocking anyone from seeing her from the house, Janie could catch her breath and finish hanging the laundry to dry without her sister insisting she rest. Her chest still hurt, but not like it had that first night. Her persistent cough remained, but she was hopeful it, too, would pass in a few days.

  Hoofbeats approached, and Janie straightened, but her chest tightened as she tried to steady her breathing.

  Nathan. He was already off the horse. "Are you well?"

  "Yes." She stiffened her spine. "Of course."

  He glanced to the house. "Your warden allowed you out of the house?"

  She couldn't help smiling at that. "She's been particularly strict, but I finally wore her down."

  "And your shoulder?"

  "I'll survive," she said dryly. It ached with activity and when she rolled onto it in her sleep.

  "I'm glad to see your health is improving. I'm sorry that I haven't been such a good host." He stopped several feet away, and she could see the streak of soot across his jaw. He and Rob had spent all day yesterday attempting to salvage what could be saved from the wreckage of the barn and clearing the burned wood. They'd missed lunch completely and come in for a late supper drooping with exhaustion, smelling of sweat and smoke.

  "You've done more than enough. I'm sorry we've inconvenienced you just as you're setting up house."

  His eyes were warm, and her stomach swooped in response to his look. Maybe, if they could forget the impropriety of her rescue, there could be hope for...

  His gaze slid past her, and his brow wrinkled. She turned to follow his gaze and saw a wagon trundling toward the farmhouse, still at least a half mile away.

  She would recognize the three bonnets with their gaudy plumes anywhere. Mama and her younger sisters.

  Her time with Nathan was up.

  Heart pounding, she turned back to Nathan, spoke quickly. "I wanted to ask you… it's important to me that my mother not find out about… about what happened between us the night you rescued me."

  "What do you mean? Rob already told his sister, the marshal, about the rescue. It's probably all around town that you recovered here." Some of the warmth had disappeared from his eyes.

  "Not that part."

  He extended one hand toward her. "I don't understand."

  "When you rescued me, my skirt... I wasn't… I wasn't clothed properly." She was making a mess of this. Partly because she could hear echoes of
Albert's mother Edna screaming at her in her memories. Brazen hussy! Filthy seductress!

  Tears rose in her throat, but she ruthlessly quashed them.

  "It wasn't like that," he said quietly, all emotion now stripped from his face. All the warmth gone.

  She swallowed hard.

  "Nothing untoward happened," he said.

  "Exactly." The wagon was so close now that she could hear the plod of the horses' hooves, the creak of their harness. "So there's no reason Mama needs to know every single detail."

  She could see from the lines in Nathan's brow that he didn't understand. He couldn't know. And she wouldn't tell him. She would never, ever speak of Albert.

  His mouth opened as if he would question her further.

  But the farmhouse door opened and closed. "Janie!" Liza called.

  And there was Rob, walking over from the barn.

  Mindy was nowhere to be seen.

  There was no more time for her awkward explanations as Mama's wagon entered the yard.

  Janie left the rest of the laundry in its basket and met Liza at the bottom porch step, Nathan following. Liza put her arm around Janie's waist, and she was grateful for the contact, the support.

  Mama reined in the two horses. Not very well, and Rob jogged the last two steps to catch their bridles and draw them to a stop.

  "Oh, Janie!" Mama's dramatic wail sent instant heat into her face. Must Mama always be this way?

  Nathan glanced at Janie briefly, and her face burned hotter. She'd just effectively confessed to him that Mama wasn't to be trusted.

  Mama accepted Rob's help over the wagon wheel and rushed forward to throw her arms around Janie, dislodging her from Liza's hold. She gave a convincing little sob, though when she moved back to peer into Janie's face, her eyes were dry.

  Janie held in a wince.

  Liza had no compunction about setting Mama straight. "She'll be all right, Mama. Doc can check on her cough once we're back home, but she's in one piece, thanks to Mr. Bingley."

  "And Mr. Darcy," Janie added.

  Rob's expression was unreadable as he stared at Liza.

  Kitty and Lydia had been helped from the wagon and stared wide-eyed at the burned-out shell of the barn.

  "Oh, yes," Mama gushed, turning to the men. "Thank you ever so much, Mr. Bingley."

  Nathan took off his hat and swept one hand over his head. Beneath the hat, sweat had matted and curled his hair, and he had the grace to look embarrassed more than anything else. "I only wish I could've done more. Acted more quickly."

  Mama sent a calculating look between Nathan and Janie.

  But it was Lydia who spoke. "Mr. Bingley, your barn..."

  Nathan sighed, mashing his hat back on his head. "Yes, we've had an unfortunate lightning strike. Although we can be glad it didn't hit the house." His smile was a little stiff.

  Rob leveled a look on Lydia, then Mama. "Don't you mean 'the Parrott's barn?' Or the barn that belongs to the town?"

  Mama colored a little but raised her chin a notch. "Word in town is that Mr. Bingley has already purchased the place."

  Janie had no doubt as to who had ferreted out that information.

  "Seems kind of dishonest to let rumors float about that one's just looking at a ranch." Mama let the shrewd statement hang suggestively.

  Rob sighed softly. Mama didn't hear or ignored it.

  Kitty seemed oblivious as she blurted, "You should have a barn raising, Mr. Bingley!"

  Lydia was quick to grab on to the idea. "Oh, that would be delightful! You could invite everyone in town and all your neighbors and there could be dancing and—"

  "Lydia," Liza interrupted softly.

  Rob grimaced, quickly stifled, but Nathan seemed to like the idea. His face had lit up. "I think we just might."

  Chapter 10

  "Papa, this line doesn't total—" Liza's words cut off as she pushed through the curtain separating the storeroom from the store proper.

  Papa was waiting on a customer, a pair of black dress boots between them on the counter, and Liza pulled back slightly.

  When the customer had finished her transaction and left with the boots boxed up, Liza moved through the curtain and into the shop.

  Papa put a pair of brown dress boots behind the counter. "You've been going through the account books again, haven't you?"

  She put the heavy, leather-bound ledger on the counter and opened it to the page she'd marked with a ribbon. She ran her finger down one of the columns. "Look here. I've spent an hour on this column, and it doesn't total."

  Papa rested his hand atop hers, flattening it on the book. "The books are not your concern. The store is not your concern. It's mine to worry over. Mine and your mother's."

  Not true.

  Not since Cottonwood Cove. Not since Liza had cost the family everything.

  "Papa—"

  "Liza," he countered with a twinkle in his eyes. "You're the smartest of your sisters. If by some chance, some man doesn't come to his senses and snatch you up and marry you, the store will be yours. But that won't happen until you're an old maid."

  She pulled a face at him. She had no prospects. And didn't want any, not when she still owed so much to her family.

  "You're young. Go upstairs and talk dresses with your sisters. They can't seem to talk of anything else."

  Not since Nathan had invited the entire town to his barn raising this coming Saturday. Only Janie had been quiet, almost reticent about the event.

  "Papa, I'd rather—"

  "If you won't, then I'm going to go upstairs and have lunch.” He grinned. “You'll mind the store?"

  She sighed. "Of course."

  Papa disappeared behind the curtain. She heard his tread on the stairs.

  Moments later, Lydia and Kitty entered through the curtain, their chatter preceding them.

  "I can't decide between the puffed sleeves or the capped." Lydia said with a toss of her hair. She and Kitty pored over a ladies' magazine held between them, Kitty pointing at one of the pages.

  Had Papa needed some peace and quiet and sent them downstairs? It was tempting to send them right back up, but Liza refrained.

  "Lydia," she said. "Could you please organize the window display?"

  Lydia shook her head. "I don't want to. Why don't you do it?"

  "Designing our new dresses for Mr. Bingley's barn raising is important, Liza," Kitty chimed in.

  She ground her teeth. Keeping the family fed and a roof over their heads was important.

  Unless Papa's store had an infusion of cash, imagining frocks that weren't likely to materialize was not.

  But she didn't have the patience to convince her sisters to do the work today.

  She abandoned the ledger, grateful for a temporary reprieve, even if she wouldn't admit it. The town of Calvin had supported their store well for the first two years after they'd moved here. These past three, sales of their leather goods had seen a steady decrease. If they suffered another bad year, they could lose everything.

  She continued to ponder the problem as Lydia and Kitty chattered behind the counter. In the wide store window, morning sunlight fell warm across her face and arms. She eyed the painted wooden shelf Papa had always used to display goods that would catch the eyes of a passerby and the assortment of boots, wallets, a coin purse. and a saddlebag that were to be displayed on it.

  The display needed something more... but what?

  The jaunty bell over the door rang, interrupting her thoughts.

  She was nearest the door and looked up... and up… into a pair of laughing hazel eyes.

  "I saw your display, and I had to come in to inspect the wares more closely." The man's voice hinted at humor, and his smile had a slightly rakish cast to it.

  Liza turned a circle, looking at the shelf and attempting to guess what he might've been looking at. "Oh, I'm not finished decorating. Did you want the saddlebag?"

  A peal of giggles from behind the counter interrupted her. The man shot a wink at h
er two sisters and then smiled down at her.

  And Liza belatedly realized he'd been talking about her. She was the window display he'd wanted to get a closer look at.

  How flirtatious.

  And yet, his blatant admiration didn't bother her as it probably should have. She warmed from the inside and found a smile crossing her lips.

  "Hello, Mr. Wickham!" Kitty called out.

  "How are you today?" Lydia echoed.

  He doffed his hat in her sisters’ direction without breaking eye contact with Liza, and that set them off in another bout of giggles. She really should talk to Mama about their behavior.

  "George Wickham, at your service," he said quietly.

  "I'm Liza Bennett. My papa—"

  "Owns this shop," he interrupted smoothly. "I had the pleasure of meeting your sisters just three days ago."

  While she and Janie had been confined to Nathan's ranch.

  "Lydia mentioned she had two older sisters, but she didn't confess how lovely you were."

  Liza felt a blush rising. Janie was usually the recipient of such compliments, not her. She wasn't entirely sure how she should respond to it.

  It certainly salved wounds still scabbed over from Rob Darcy's dismissal that first night.

  She remembered the flash of his dark eyes in the smoke-filled barn.

  And then, as if she'd conjured him with her thoughts, Rob was there, passing before her window.

  From the boardwalk, he tipped his hat to her as Wickham stepped closer—into Rob's line of sight. Rob stopped mid-motion, a dark scowl crossing his features. He instantly turned on his heel and strode away.

  What—?

  A glance over her shoulder showed Lydia and Kitty whispering behind their hands at the counter. Had they seen Rob? She doubted it.

  She turned back to Wickham, whose brows had knit together. His gaze remained on the window where Rob had disappeared.

  "Do you know Mr. Darcy?" she asked.

  Mr. Wickham came back to himself, smiling slightly at her.

  Before he could say anything, three women pushed through the door, chatting and instantly casting curious looks at Liza and her companion.