Ma Downs had been gracious to give the half day, but Darla doubted she had any notion that she and Ethan were going off together. Though he should be free to do what he wants. He’s a grown man.
As she reached for the door handle, someone turned it from the other side. Lisbeth pushed her way into the room.
Danny scampered out from under the bed and settled on his owner’s shoulder, chattering.
“Did you decide where you’re going for your half-day?” Lisbeth asked as she fed the squirrel bits of bread from lunch.
“Ethan asked me to go to the fair,” Darla said. Lisbeth isn’t a snitch. And we aren’t doing anything wrong.
“I see. Well, have a good time.” Lisbeth’s lips curved up into her usual pixie smile.
“Please don’t tell Ma Downs we’re going together.” Darla begged.
Lisbeth tossed her red braid over her shoulder, almost knocking Danny from his perch. “The biggest simpleton in the world could see what’s going on. I don’t know why you’re trying to be all hush-hush about it anyway.”
“I have my reasons.” Darla tipped up her chin and went out the door.
“She’s a minx, but she’s our friend, isn’t she, Danny?” Darla heard Lisbeth say as she approached the staircase.
Warmth flooded through her. Lisbeth thinks of me as a friend.
Through the last few months, Lisbeth had told Darla a few snippets of her story. She’d come to America on a ship from Ireland six years ago, as a maid to a wealthy lady. The woman had treated her like a pet, telling her how to dress and act and even what foods to eat. “I felt like a kitten,” Lisbeth had said. She’d run off with a worthless man. After her husband drank himself to death, she’d somehow made her way to Dallas, where Ma Downs had found her in an alley, frozen to the bone. The matriarch of Downs House had, of course, brought her home, and she’d been living there for two years.
Darla felt as though the girl kept her true self locked away somewhere. Her eyes were always a little too bright, her laughter a bit too sudden.
Feeling her own eyebrows sink in concern, Darla smoothed out her forehead with gloved fingers. I can’t think about troublesome things right now. She hurried down the stairs and out the door. I’m going to have a splendid day. Who knows when I’ll get another one?
She rounded the corner to the barn.
There he was, leaning against the wall, wrapped in his leather duster jacket. The air had taken on a chill since morning, and Ethan’s breath created a white cloud around him. He straightened as she moved closer.
Tipping his hat, he said, “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“And miss a day of fun? Not a chance.”
He laughed and gestured for her to follow him through the gate. “I decided not to bother with the buggy; the ladies might want it. The fair’s only a short distance.” Sudden concern sprang into his eyes. “You don’t mind, do you?”
She held back a giggle. “No, I don’t like being cooped up in those rattletraps anyway. I’d much rather walk or ride. I miss Jimmy.”
“Jimmy? Who’s Jimmy?”
“He was my horse.” She smiled at the memory of the scrawny old buckskin. “Won him in a . . .” She caught herself. “He was my horse,” she repeated. “I gave him to Brother Jenkins. I didn’t think there’d be room for him at Downs House.”
Ethan rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry you had to lose him.”
“It’s all right. I’m sure he’s happier in the home Brother Jenkins promised to find for him. He was a cuss to ride sometimes, anyway.” The words came out before she could stop them, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.
Ethan stopped. “Miss Darla, you are full of surprises. I never know what you are going to say or do next.”
“I’m sorry.” Darla kicked at a rock. “My dad called me his little spitfire. But I’m trying to settle down and be more proper. I really am.”
Ethan turned, raised a hand and touched her cheek. The movement was so sudden she almost drew back, but caught herself and stood still, hardly daring to move. Her heart pounded like it never had, not even with such gestures from the few men who had taken her fancy in the past.
“Don’t settle down too much,” said Ethan softly. “I like your wildness. It makes you special. I want to know all about you. What you like the best. Where you come from.”
Merry music drifted on the wind. “The fair, it must be right down the road,” Darla leaned away from him.
He drew back his hand. “Yes. I’m sorry. Being forward again.” Putting his hands in his pockets, he walked towards the music.
You can be forward all day long, if you like. Just don’t ask so many questions. She bowed her head and followed him to the gates of the fair.
Crowds of people swarmed past like colorful ants. Boys dressed in knee-breeches and little girls in white frocks with stiff velvet bows. Housewives balancing cakes and farmers carrying vegetables and leading animals of all kinds. Barkers fought to be heard over the noise, shouting accolades for shows full of wonders that could ‘be seen for just a penny. Acts seen only in the royal courts of Persia before this very day.’
Delicious scents filled the air: popcorn, roasted meat and sweets.
Darla had been to small county fairs, but nothing of this size. She clasped her hands before her, trying to see everything at once.
Ethan chuckled. “It’s something, isn’t it? And this is nothing compared to the state fair, but that won’t come until September. I haven’t been to one since . . .” His face clouded a bit. “Well, it’s been awhile.”
He scuffed the ground with his shoe and smiled again. “Well, what do you want to do first? Are you hungry?”
“No, not at all,” Darla said as her stomach growled. She swallowed and pressed her arms against her midsection.
“Of course you are. That cabbage soup we had for lunch couldn’t keep a fly alive.” Ethan grimaced. “Ma does insist on serving it once a week for the digestion.” He took her hand and pulled her towards a food stall.
The gesture was quick and innocent enough, but Darla fought the temptation to snatch her hand back lest her train of thought be somehow transferred through touch. What does this mean? Should I allow him to hold my hand? If I let go now, it would be terribly rude, and he wouldn’t understand. I truly care for him. Yes. She closed her eyes. Yes I do. Oh dear, I’ve tried so hard not to!
Good thing Ethan’s attention was focused on the food booths. If he had looked back, he would have seen a conflicting display of emotions parade across her face while her mind sorted through these thoughts. As it was, she drew curious expressions from several of the people passing by.
At one booth, a woman was frying doughnuts in an iron skillet of bubbling grease. When the dough was fried, she’d flip it onto a stack at one end of the booth. On the other side of the counter was a skillet for frying chicken.
“Doughnut and chicken for a nickel!” she called to Ethan in a voice that was more like a song than a speech.
“I think that’s just what we’re looking for,” Ethan said. Before Darla could fumble in her reticule for one of her precious coins, he pulled out a shiny dime and set it on the counter. “May I have two of each, please?”
“Oh, Ethan, I couldn’t ask you to!” Darla protested.
“You didn’t.” He let go of her hand to take his chicken and doughnut.
She took her food as well. The doughnut was soft and warm in one hand, the chicken crisp and hot in the other.
Ethan looked around. “I don’t see any places to sit, and the ground is pretty muddy here. We’ll have to stand and eat. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
After eating every crumb and licking their fingers in scandalous abandon, they continued through the fair. Sword swallowers and jugglers performed in front of bright tents, and women danced through the crowd in low-cut dresses with colored spangles. Whenever one of these performers came too close to Ethan he’d turn away with flaming cheeks.
&nb
sp; Darla’s head swam when she remembered only months before she’d go out in public every day wearing much less. How could I have been so shameless?
Ethan nudged her gently. “What’s the matter? Aren’t you having a good time?”
“The very best.” But tiny fingers of doubt began to poke and prod at her heart. He couldn’t care for me if he knew. She wished she could just forget, to throw these thoughts from her mind and enjoy the day--her day--with her dashing young gentleman.
“Why, I declare, it’s Ethan Downs!” A woman’s voice, rather high and shrill despite the Texas drawl, pierced through the crowd.
Darla sighed. Samantha Bugle. And the afternoon was going so well.
Samantha floated up to Ethan in a flouncing silk dress with a gigantic bustle. A hat, drooping with enough feathers to make up a whole bird, kept impossible balance on her gleaming brown tresses.
She shook Ethan’s hand, giving Darla a slit-eyed glare over his shoulder. “Ethan, look at how sweet you are! Showing kindness to an unfortunate, even on your day off.”
“Er, that’s not really--” Ethan began.
Samantha interrupted. “But of course you’re the kindest man in all of Dallas, aren’t you?” She turned to Darla. “And dear, you wouldn’t mind if I took him away for a bit?” She gave Ethan a doe-eyed look. “Papa needs help, and I promised him I’d find a strong young man to help unload his prized steer at the judging pens.”
Darla’s hackles rose. She was tempted to rip the ridiculous hat off those curls and stomp it to the ground. Instead, she gave her sweetest honey-fake smile, the one that she used to reserve for her dullest customers.
“You go right on ahead. I’m going to stroll over and listen to the band.” She gave Ethan a sideways glance. “Maybe one of those fellows over there will take pity on a poor girl and ask me to dance.”
The tips of Ethan’s ears turned red. “Miss Bugle, I don’t want to leave Miss North alone.”
Samantha pouted and batted her long, thick lashes. “Can’t you spare a moment for a dear, dear family friend? It’s practically an emergency.”
Emergency, my eye. It’s probably a tiny calf I could carry out by myself. But Darla shrugged. “Go on, find out what all this fuss is about. I can amuse myself for a few moments.”
Ethan squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”
10 A DANGEROUS DANCE
Darla refused to watch as Samantha dragged Ethan away through the crowd. She didn’t want to give the woman the satisfaction.
Scooting closer to the music, she craned her neck to see the band through the crowd.
One man with a thick moustache and a bright vest played an accordion, while another strummed a guitar. An older fellow with gray in his hair held a violin. A beautiful woman with dark hair flowing down her back beat a tambourine against a slender wrist. The music was mysterious and joyful at the same time, with notes and chords Darla had never heard.
A cowboy with a thick blond beard approached her and offered his arm. Darla needed no further encouragement. She followed his steps into the whirling, swirling dance.
The tempo quickened, and a different man traded places with the cowboy. He was replaced with a third, and then a fourth.
The simple steps were easy to follow, and Darla threw herself into then. Freedom bubbled up within her. It’s been so long since I could be me. Just Darla.
“Darla?” The fifth man stopped short, jerking her to a halt. “Well, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes? What the Sam Hill are you doing down here in Dallas, anyway?”
Red hair stood up on the man’s pale head like stubble in a harvested wheat field. His cheeks were crimson and round, and his thick lips were flecked with spittle.
Darla stepped back. “You must be mistaken, sir. My name is . . . Lisbeth.”
“No, no it ain’t.” The man grabbed at her hand.
She pushed further away, almost stumbling into the couples still dancing around them. Jethro Sites. But how did he end up in Dallas? “Please, just let me be!”
The man stomped after her, his eyes lit up like two coals in a scuttle. “Honey, come on. You and I had a good time at that ol’ saloon, didn’t we? I liked your dancing and singing better’n any of the other gals. I always gave you an extra coin or two when I had one.” He leaned closer, and a stream of hot, stagnant breath hit her face. “Come on to the whiskey stand and we’ll have some fun, like we used to.”
The thought of whiskey made Darla’s throat burn. She’d never cared for the stuff, though she’d been forced to drink it a few times. She scanned the crowd, searching for Ethan. Where is he?
Step by step, she backed out of the circle.
Jethro’s eyes drooped like a sad puppy. “C’mon, what’s the matter?”
“Leave me alone!” She was almost to the edge of the crowd. Once past the dancers, she picked up her skirts and ran, weaving through the booths and tents.
Venders leaned against their carts, wide-eyed. Crowds parted, most probably thinking she was part of an act.
After a distance, Darla leaned against a wagon of brilliant gold with carved cherubs on the sides. Gasping for breath, she peeked around the corner. No Jethro.
“Pardon, Miss, can I help you with something?”
Pressing fingers against her lips to hold back a yelp, she turned to see a boy with tangled blond hair staring up at her.
His clothes were fashioned of tattered but costly material, and his shoes, Darla noticed with interest, had bells on the pointed tips.
‘I know. Dandy, ain’t they?” He wiggled his foot and smiled at the jingle.
“Shhhh . . .” She peered out into the fair once more. What if Jethro finds me? What if Ethan sees him and finds out who I was?
The thought was so chilling her knees wobbled.
The boy’s face grew solemn. “You seem to be in trouble, Miss.”
“I suppose I am,” Darla admitted.
His eyes widened. “Ain’t you pretty, though? I thought pretty girls could talk their way outta any kind of problem.”
Darla gave him a wry smile. “If only.”
“If you want some help, Doctor Ebenezer might be able to do something. He takes care a’ all of us.”
“All of you?” Darla glanced around, but saw no one else near the wagon.
The boy pointed to the cart’s side.
“Dr. Ebenezer’s Traveling Medical Show of Wonders,” Darla read out loud.
The lad’s chest puffed with pride. “Yep. And we’re the very best. We got zanies, a snake charmer, and Lucy, of course.”
“Who’s Lucy?’
“The smartest, most trained pig you ever saw. And the gypsies, of course.”
Now Darla could hear it. Music grew louder, nearing her hiding place. She peeked out to see the musicians leading a parade of folks up the lane, right towards the wagon.
Behind them walked Ethan. Was he shouting her name? Her fingers tightened around a wooden curlicue.
The boy must have noticed her relieved expression. He leaned closer. “Is everything all right now, ma’am?”
She nodded and stood up, smoothing her skirts.
He tugged on her sleeve. “Miss, if you ever decide you need some help after all, come to the fairgrounds and ask for Johnny Jingle. We’ll be here for two more days. Dr. Ebenezer would be pleased as punch to have a purty girl like you join the troupe, and we have lots of fun.”
“Thanks, Sugar.” Darla reached out to pat the tousled head, saw a few crawling specks in the blond strands, and drew her hand back. “Good luck to you and your show.”
She ran out from behind the wagon and called, “Ethan! I’m over here!”
Ethan trotted over, his eyebrows drawn together. “Darla, where were you? I thought you might have been kidnapped by a vagrant magician.”
She managed a laugh. “No, silly. I got tired of the music and went for a walk. When I saw this wagon, I just had to get a closer look. Wouldn’t it be fun to travel with a medicine show?”
Ethan surveyed the golden carvings and frowned. “Take up with a snake oil salesman? All they do is cheat folks out of hard-earned money.” His features softened. “I never know what you’re going to think of next. Why did you run off like that? I was worried about you.”
“Sorry.” Darla lowered her head, and then looked up with a saucy smile. “But what’s a girl to do when left all on her own?”
“You’re right.” Ethan sighed. “I shouldn’t have gone off with that Samantha Bugle. After I helped with the steer, she wanted me to help unload her mother’s pumpkins. I don’t mind helping the benefactors but . . .” He scowled. “Sometimes, that woman . . .”
Darla remained silent, but her heart leapt at the exasperated look on his face. Up until now she’d wondered if Ethan might care for Samantha a tiny bit, but now his true feelings were obvious.
Ethan tugged her shoulder gently so she turned to face him. “Hey. I’ll forgive you for disappearing on me if you’ll forgive me for leaving you all alone.”
“I can do that,” Darla replied.
Bending close to her ear, Ethan whispered, “Just don’t run off on me again. Please?”
“I promise,” she whispered back.
Over Ethan’s shoulder, Jethro’s red face appeared once more, shining like a beacon through the crowd. Her heart sank. She’d almost forgotten the reason she’d run off in the first place.
She whipped around and walked in quick steps toward the front gates. “Ethan, we should be heading back, don’t you think? Your Ma might need you and wonder why we’re both gone.”
Ethan’s mouth drew down at the corners. “Ma knows I need my own time. She won’t be worrying about me.”
Darla chose not to argue that point. She glanced behind her. No Jethro. Maybe he didn’t see me. Giving a weak smile, she pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I’m getting a bit cold and I don’t want to catch the sniffles. I’m sorry to spoil the day, but I probably should go home.”
“It has become more brisk, hasn’t it? All right then.” Ethan’s forehead creased. “I would have enjoyed a dance.”
The Saloon Girl's Journey (Texas Women of Spirit Book 3) Page 7