by Jill Gregory
For Becky’s sake, she tried to smile. “I just want to look nice since this is my first dance in Wyoming.”
“It’s mine, too. But I’m not a bit nervous,” Becky marveled. She tossed her hairbrush onto the coverlet and leapt up off the bed. Coming to stand beside Caitlin at the mirror, she did a small pirouette.
“I do love my dress.” Her tone was awed as she watched the long skirt billow gracefully. “It’s the most beautiful dress in the world—besides yours,” she added generously, slipping her hand into Caitlin’s. “Wasn’t it wonderful of Wade to buy it for me?”
“Yes, it was.” Unbeknown to Caitlin, Wade had taken Becky into town one day and bought her not only a new dress for the dance, but several ready-made Sunday dresses from Hicks Mercantile. He left the girl with Nell Hicks to select fabric and ribbons and patterns to supplement her new wardrobe, since she’d arrived in Wyoming with little more than the clothes on her back, and the few items she’d stuffed into her satchel. When Caitlin later offered to repay him from her next month’s stipend, Wade shrugged.
“Think you’ll be around long enough to collect that stipend?” he asked, his tone casual.
“It looks that way. After all, now I’m obligated to repay this debt—”
“You don’t owe me anything, Caitlin.” Wade glowered at her. “Understand? Don’t stick around just so you can pay me back. If you stay, do it because you want to. No other reason.”
No other reason. He stalked off before she could reply, but his words echoed like death bells in her ears. No other reason.
If he told her he loved her, that would be a reason to stay. But he hadn’t. He wouldn’t. He didn’t.
Becky touched the soft silk of Caitlin’s skirt. “I want a dress just like this one when I’m a grown-up lady. Can I have one?” she asked wistfully.
“Of course, dearest.” She smiled down at the slight, brown-haired girl who was still so innocent and hopeful, despite all that she’d been through. Becky was still very much a young girl, but in a matter of months, perhaps a year or two, she would be teetering on the brink of womanhood. Blossoming and changing. Caitlin wanted so much to protect her from disappointment and pain. She never wanted Becky to go through what she had. Of course she couldn’t protect her from all of the pain life might have to offer, but she could at least make sure Becky had a safe, solid home, surrounded by people who cared for her. And that she wouldn’t be left alone and vulnerable to lies or betrayal—or to a man who would stop at nothing to possess and control her.
But a man who would fill her with desire, with wild hope when she thought hope was dead, with love, when she thought her heart had turned to stone, a man like that? Only her own inner strength could protect her.
And at that moment, Caitlin felt she had as much inner strength as a spoonful of jelly. She missed Wade with all of her soul these past days when he kept himself distant from her.
Dawg’s furious barking and the sound of horses’ hooves broke into her thoughts. Becky darted to the window and parted the curtains.
“Mr. Raleigh is here!”
“He’s early.” Caitlin’s stomach clenched. With all her heart she wished she were going to this dance with Wade, that things between them were different. But they weren’t. Yet a part of her hoped that Wade would dance with her tonight—that something magical would happen between them . . .
Magical?
She wasn’t a fairy-tale princess and he wasn’t her prince.
Magic—love—all that was nothing more than hogwash.
She snatched up her hairbrush and began dragging it through her hair. “Tell Mr. Raleigh I’ll be down shortly.”
“All right.” Becky started to dash toward the door, then halted and slowed her steps, walking sedately. At the door, she turned and spoke almost shyly. “Caity? I wish you were going to the dance with Wade.”
Caitlin’s hand froze with the brush in midair. “Why, dearest?”
Becky shrugged. “Because I like Wade. A lot. And,” she said wistfully, “if you were going with him, then we could all drive to the dance together. Don’t you like Wade?”
“He’s very nice.”
“Then why didn’t you want to go to the dance with him?”
“He didn’t ask me.”
“I bet he wanted to,” Becky declared. “Maybe you should have asked him.”
“Becky!” In spite of herself, Caitlin couldn’t help but laugh. “Mr. Raleigh is waiting,” she reminded her sister. “I have to get started on pinning up my hair.”
Caitlin’s hands were so clammy she could barely secure the pins in her hastily arranged coiffure. And by the time she seized her reticule and tossed her black satin shawl around her shoulders, she was in such a state she had to keep reminding herself that this was only a dance, she’d been to dozens of them before, and she didn’t care a whit if Wade Barclay asked her to stand up with him or not.
At the sound of her approach, Becky, Wade, and Drew Raleigh all turned and gazed up the wide staircase.
“Oh, Caity, you look beautiful,” Becky breathed.
“That she does.” Drew Raleigh’s smile was wide, and his hazel eyes glinted as she swept gracefully down the steps, one hand resting lightly upon the carved banister.
Wade watched her descent in silence, a muscle clenched in his jaw.
“Please forgive me for keeping you waiting,” she apologized to Drew as he took her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it.
“She was pinning up her hair,” Becky explained, and Drew Raleigh threw back his head and laughed.
Glancing swiftly at Wade, Caitlin saw that he was not laughing. His gaze swept over the low-cut silk gown of pale rose that hugged her curves, then shifted to the delicate amethyst necklace that drew attention to her slim white throat, and then to her face—her mouth, she realized, blushing, and then finally to the elaborate chignon of dangling curls she’d arranged. And she knew he was thinking he’d like to take out each of the pins and watch the curls glide down.
“Sh-shall we go?” To her consternation, her voice was unsteady. She didn’t want to believe it had anything to do with the way Wade was staring at her, like a hawk watches a mouse. Or with the fact that he looked so devastatingly handsome in his black shirt, black pants, and string tie, his dark hair neatly combed, his lean, bronzed face clean-shaven. She wanted more than anything to tuck her hand in his and tell him how handsome he looked, to flirt with him until he promised to dance with her, but Drew Raleigh was her date and if she knew nothing else, Caitlin Summers knew how to observe the proprieties.
So she pasted a smile on her face as Drew took her arm. She looked back and blew a kiss at Becky, promising to see her at the dance.
“I’ll see you there, too,” she told Wade lightly as Drew led her to the door.
“Count on it.” She felt his gaze burning into her spine as she and Drew left the house and went out into the night.
The Crooked T ranch house was alive with lights and fiddle music. Colored lanterns adorned the large parlor that was so crowded with gaily attired men and women that she and Drew had to squeeze their way through.
“Now, don’t you look lovely?” Edna Weaver appeared at Caitlin’s side as if by magic. Right beside her was Winnifred Dale and Alice Tyler, hostess of the May Day dance.
“Caitlin, Drew—welcome!” Alice’s smile included both of them.
“Quite a crush, Mrs. Tyler.” Drew kissed her hand. “I haven’t seen this many people together in a room since I left New York.”
Alice laughed. “There are so many people here I always worry I won’t get a chance to greet everyone! Speaking of which, there are my dear friends, Maura and Quinn Lassiter. Please excuse me a moment.”
As Alice plunged into the throng, Winnifred turned to Caitlin. “Isn’t your little sister coming tonight?”
“Oh, yes, Becky’s on her way. She’s coming with Wade.”
“Is she now?” Edna pursed her lips thoughtfully, her gaze flicking back and forth between Caitlin and D
rew. In the next instant, Alice’s husband, Jim, pulled Drew away into a circle of men discussing railroads and the stock market.
Edna’s fingers smoothed the lace collar of her bottle-green dress. “Usually Wade’s date for this particular dance is a bit older, if you know what I mean,” she said with a chuckle. “Half the town’s been wondering why he didn’t ask Luanne Porter. No more’n a month ago folks thought those two were halfway to bein’ hitched. But something must have changed, because she came tonight with Jake Young.”
“Oh?” Glancing in the direction of Edna’s keen gaze, Caitlin saw Luanne in a corner of the parlor with Jake. They were deep in earnest conversation.
“They make a fine-looking couple,” she murmured. But she wondered to herself why Wade hadn’t invited Luanne. Or perhaps he did, she thought, her heart constricting. Perhaps Jake had merely asked first.
“Indeed they do. And so do you and Drew.” Edna smiled. “But I’d sure like to see Wade find himself some sweet girl, fall madly in love, and settle down.”
“So would I.” Winnifred peeped hopefully at Caitlin.
Caitlin lifted her chin. “They say marriage isn’t for everyone. And it’s my guess it isn’t for Wade Barclay. I think Wade Barclay is too ornery and too . . . too arrogant for marriage.”
“Wade? Ornery? And arrogant? Heavens, he’s the most easygoing, levelheaded, straight-thinking man I know!” Edna glanced again over to where Luanne was still deep in conversation with Jake. “He’s going to make some woman a fine husband. And a handsome one,” she added, her deep-set eyes twinkling. “For a while I truly thought he was sweet on Luanne, but I guess he wasn’t quite sweet enough on her. Or else he’s just gun-shy about marriage.”
She winked at Winnifred, who took up the thread of the conversation. “Now, we don’t mean to meddle, Caitlin dear, but some folks in town have remarked on how nice and kind of fitting it would be, if Reese’s daughter and the young man he raised as his own son were to find their way to—”
“Winnifred!” Caitlin stared at her as hot color rushed into her cheeks and she felt sure they were every bit as rosy as her gown. “I don’t know how you or anyone could concoct such a ludicrous notion. I can tell you right now there is as much chance of that happening as there is of the sun coming out at the stroke of midnight!”
“Really? Hmmm.” Edna regarded her appraisingly. “You sound certain enough, honey, but—”
“Trust me,” Caitlin managed to say with only a slight quaver in her voice. “Wade Barclay is the last man on earth I would ever—”
She broke off because at that moment Wade Barclay appeared in the parlor doorway, filling it with his tall frame. Becky’s small hand was clasped in his big one.
Caitlin swallowed. Every other man in the room seemed to fade. Wade, all in black but for his silver belt buckle, stood out from the crowd. He filled her vision, filled her heart. She swallowed as his keen blue glance circled the room, sifting through the throng, and coming to rest at last upon her.
As their gazes locked, she heard Edna’s voice, speaking dryly, as if from a great distance.
“Well, now, honey, what was that you were saying?”
But before she could answer, Caitlin felt a hand close around her arm. “Caitlin, my dear, I apologize for abandoning you. Would you care to dance?”
And then Drew Raleigh was leading her toward the dance floor. A waltz had begun, and he took her in his arms.
She saw Winnifred and Edna staring after her and could have sworn they looked mad enough to stamp their feet.
Meddling busybodies. Too bad she was so fond of them or she’d give them a piece of her mind.
Drew Raleigh was speaking to her, smiling at her, and waltzing her across the floor, but her thoughts were centered on the tall man clad all in black whose eyes met hers once more across the room.
Chapter 25
As Caitlin watched, Becky dashed toward the kitchen with the Morgensen twins, and then Wade shot her one last glance and turned away. With Drew expertly guiding her across the dance floor, she could only suffer in silence as Wade approached a tall brunette in yellow gingham.
“Drew.” She gave him her most dazzling smile. “Isn’t this a glorious night?”
“It is now.” He drew her closer. His handsome smile held open admiration.
“This is my first dance in Wyoming,” she chattered.
“And with any luck, my dear, it will be your last—and mine.”
“What do you mean? Everything is lovely.”
“Lovely for a small two-buggy town on the fringe of the prairie. But come now, Caitlin, you can’t think it begins to compare with the grand parties you attended in Philadelphia.”
“Well, no, not exactly, but . . .” Caitlin glanced around at the festive room, the colorfully garbed people—a surprising number of whom she knew. And liked. It struck her suddenly that she felt at home here—she’d grown accustomed to the warm bluntness of Edna, to Winnifred’s shy, sweet face, to the hearty food, good-humored hospitality, to people saying what they meant and doing their best to be kind and neighborly to others—from the most prosperous bankers and ranchers and businessmen down to the most struggling ranchers and farmers tilling their bit of land. She wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but Hope—and Silver Valley—had found a place in her heart.
And she resented Drew’s attitude toward them every bit as much as she resented the possessive way he was holding her, pressing her so close against him she could feel the hardness of his body—his entire body.
“Drew—please, I can’t breathe.” She pulled back.
“Sorry, Caitlin, but you do have an effect on a man.” With a low laugh, he loosened his hold as the music played on.
“This little corner of the world is quaint,” he continued, “and the scenery’s just fine, but I’ll hardly miss it when I return east. Don’t tell me you will?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought much lately about returning east.”
“I find that quite surprising. It seems to me you most belong in a lovely drawing room—bedecked in jewels and satins, with servants at your beck and call, a silver tea service before you—and lobster patties and champagne to dine upon. Instead of . . . what is it that Mrs. Tyler and her friends are preparing to serve us? Fried chicken, barbecued slabs of steak, and corn on the cob?”
Caitlin’s temper flared but she bit back the angry retort as she saw Wade glance over at her. He and the brunette spun past in a blur. With a heavy heart, she forced her smile back into place.
“Actually, Drew, thank you for reminding me. I really should see if there’s anything I can do to help Alice in the kitchen—”
Drew’s grip on her tightened again. She nearly winced as he shook his head. “That can wait, can’t it? We’re in the middle of a dance. I wouldn’t think of parting with you—yet.”
“This is never going to work. I’m too slow, too stupid, and by the time I’m able to write the damned letter, Caitlin will be married to either Wade or Drew Raleigh with a bun in the oven!”
Jake scowled and slouched against the wall as Caitlin and Drew circled the dance floor amid a rainbow of other dancers.
Beside him, Luanne gave him a poke in the ribs. “Jake Young, you stop that! You’re not slow and you’re not stupid. Learning takes time. I think you’re doing just fine— you improve with each lesson. But if you’re going to act like a quitter, then I just can’t help you! Look at me. Wade hasn’t even come over to say hello to me tonight.” For the first time her voice faltered. “But I’m not going to stand here and scowl at the world. I’m going to enjoy myself— with or without you.”
Jake straightened and peered at her guiltily. “Sorry about Wade. But if you’re not upset that he didn’t ask you to the dance or come over to say howdy to you—maybe you weren’t as sweet on him as you thought you were.”
“Well, for your information, I thought I was—at the time. But the funny thing is, I don’t miss seeing him as much as I expected.”
Luanne smoothed her skirt. “He did pay me a visit the other night, you know. Right after your lesson, not ten minutes after you left.”
“He did? What’d he say?”
She was watching the dancers, her gaze following Wade and Sally Hanks, the brunette in gingham. “He told me he was glad we were friends. That if I ever needed anything, I could count on him.”
“Well, that sounds like something!” Jake exclaimed. “Maybe he’s through with Caitlin—or she’s through with him—”
“No.” Luanne shook her head. Her curls swayed forward across her lightly freckled cheeks. “It was the way he said it, Jake. He was letting me know that we weren’t ever going to be any more than friends. He did it kindly, and very gently. He didn’t want me having any . . . any false hopes.”
“Well.” Jake considered this. “You’re sure that’s what he meant?”
“I’m positive.” Her smile was wan. “A girl knows when a man isn’t interested in her . . . in any special way.”
She flicked him a quick glance, then looked away. “Maybe you should forget about writing that letter and just ask Caitlin to dance. Then while you’re dancing, you could recite the poem. Tell her it expresses how you really feel—”
“I don’t know the whole thing yet.”
“You almost do. We could practice right now—and then while it’s fresh in your mind, you could go over there and give it a try.”
His eyes lit. “Maybe you’re right. Do you really think I should?”
Luanne nodded. Her cheeks had paled a little, but her voice was strong and sure. “Of course. If you really care for Caitlin—”
“Sure I do! What do you think I’ve been studying with you all these nights for?”
“Then maybe tonight is the night you should let her know. You look real handsome,” she added, and for the first time, there was a quaver in her voice. Jake didn’t notice.
He did glance over at her though, and grinned. “You think so?”
Luanne reached up and straightened his black string tie, noting how the red plaid shirt he wore accentuated his fine set of shoulders. “I do.”