lightly by the arm and turned away.
“I can have you arrested for threatening me,” Whitehead claimed, causing Darcy to look sideways at him.
“You can try. You come on by Pemberley, and you’ll learn my boys will be waiting for you. You and your hired killers.” He gestured at the bar with his head before walking to the door, the crowd parting before him.
It may have been a Baptist wedding, but the bar was still open, and Fitz was enjoying a beer when he noted his boss across the room staring at someone. Instantly coming alert, he saw George Whitehead talking to Gaby Darcy. Fitz turned around, leaning his back against the bar, watching the action as Darcy walked over to his enemy. He noted a movement by a man down a ways from him.
From the corner of his eye he saw it was Kid Denny, a gunfighter supposedly working at the B&R Ranch, but Fitz knew better. The man was so intently watching the confrontation he didn’t notice at first Fitz moving towards him.
“Afternoon, Denny.” Fitz stopped next to him.
“Whatta ya want, Fitzwilliam?” the gunman demanded.
“Just bein’ neighborly. Nice day for a weddin’, ain’t it?”
“Get lost.” Denny turned back to the quiet confrontation, his hand slipping off the bar towards his gun belt.
In a deceptively friendly tone, Fitz said, “I wouldn’t do that, if’n I was you.”
Denny half turned back, his eyes quickly taking stock of Fitzwilliam. “Yeah? Big talk, mister, seein’ as you ain’t wearin’ your gun.”
Fitz chuckled. “Yeah, well, packin’ a gun seemed a rather unnecessary embellishment for a weddin’, at least for honest folks.”
“You better shut up, Fitzwilliam,” Denny snarled, “or I’ll shut ya up fur good.”
Fitz shook his head. “Tsk, tsk—ain’t no cause for being unsociable, Denny. Is there, José?”
“No,
Denny whipped his head to see a large man grinning just behind him.
“You know José Estrada, don’t you, Denny?” Fitz smiled as he leaned on the bar. “No? He’s my Number Two at Pemberley. José, this here’s Kid Denny, ranch boss from the B&R. He considers himself to be some kinda gunfighter, which is why he’s got the lack o’ manners to bring a six-shooter into a weddin’ reception. Now, José here don’t need no gun, as he can pull your arm clear off without tryin’. Can’t you, José?”
José showed his teeth. “
Fitz’s eyes never left Denny’s face. “Peter, you find that shotgun behind the bar?”
“Oh, yeah, boss,” came another voice. Denny didn’t need to turn around to see that another Pemberley rider was behind him.
Denny gritted his teeth. “You think you’re pretty smart, don’t ya?”
“I have my moments.” Fitz waved Sheriff Lucas over. “Sheriff, it seems Denny here’s weighted down by a big, heavy gun. It’s spoilin’ his drinkin’, ain’t it, Denny? Now, that don’t seem right, does it?”
Lucas looked at both men. “That’s enough of that, Fitz.” He held out his hand. “Denny, the sign outside clearly said ‘No Guns.’ Hand it over, an’ you can pick it up at the jail later.”
Denny hesitated before handing over his Colt. Lucas grunted, slipping the pistol into his waistband. “I don’t want any trouble from any of you, got it? Be on your way.”
“Mr. Darcy’s leaving right now, Lucas, an’ we’ll be followin’ him,” Fitz assured the sheriff.
“This ain’t over, Fitzwilliam,” Denny spat.
“See you ’round, Denny,” Fitz said coldly. The three Pemberley riders backed out of the saloon after Darcy and his sister.
Whitehead had noticed the end of the confrontation between Denny and Fitzwilliam as Darcy and his party walked away.
“Well, Mrs. Bingley, I must apologize for Mr. Darcy’s rudeness—”
An angry Bingley held up his hand. “Stop. Don’t—say—a— word, Whitehead. I won’t hear anything against Darcy. I didn’t invite you—you’re only here as a favor to my father-in-law.”
Whitehead tilted his head. “That’s mighty unfriendly, Doctor.”
Bingley knew Jane was upset, and he hated that he was spoiling the reception. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I stand by what I said when you moved to town. You go your way, an’ I’ll go mine. You get sick, an’ I’ll treat you like anybody else. Other than that, I’ve got nothing to say to you.” He saw that Jane’s sisters were walking their way, and he didn’t want to prolong the conversation, especially in their presence. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to dance with my bride.” With that the two took to the floor, Bingley whispering in Jane’s ear he would explain later. Just as they started to dance, an angry Beth with a curious Kathy and Lily joined Whitehead.
“George, I couldn’t help noticing that you and Mr. Darcy had cross words,” Beth observed.
A corner of Whitehead’s lip twitched. “Yes, you could say that.”
Kathy looked towards the door. “Imagine! Causing a scene at Jane’s wedding! What a disagreeable person! I hope Jane wasn’t too upset.”
“I’m sure she’s not, Miss Kathy. Your new brother-in-law has caught her attention.” Sure enough, Jane was beaming at her groom as they moved to the music.
“I thought there was going to be a fight!” cried Lily. “You could take him, couldn’t you, George?”
“Lily!” admonished Beth.
“Far be it from me to start such unpleasantness,” Whitehead assured them. “I was just congratulating your sister when Mr. Darcy dragged Miss Darcy away.” He shook his head. “Some people won’t let bygones be bygones. It’s a shame. But what can you expect from someone with Darcy’s… erm, background?”
Kathy’s eyes flew open. “Background? Whatever do you mean, George?”
Whitehead leaned close. “Didn’t you know? Darcy’s not… quite…
Shocked, Beth remembered both Darcys: olive complexion, jet hair, and high cheekbones.
“My goodness! Mr. Darcy is a half-breed!” laughed Lily.
Whitehead grinned. “So it would seem. People around here only tolerate the Darcys because of their wealth. Money, you see, does buy respectability. But, enough about that! Would you care to dance, Miss Lily?”
Beth watched as Whitehead escorted Lily to the floor, feeling a confusing mixture of shock, amusement, and a tiny bit of shame.
In the weeks that followed, the Bennets saw very little of their neighbors. Winter had come to Rosings, and while it did not have the bitter cold and heavy snows familiar in Ohio, the ever-present wind brought its own miseries. No matter the weather, there were chickens to feed, pigs to slop, and cows to milk, and with Jane’s marriage, one less person to share the chores. Beth’s favorite job, as it always had been, was in the barn, caring for the horses. She would brush the animals and see to their water and feed before helping her father and Hill care for the cattle.
On the coldest days, the family was thankful that the long-departed Mr. Thompson had built his house so that the pump for the well was inside. Nothing could be done about the outhouse, of course, but at least when the infrequent snowstorms came, the snow was never very deep.
Their diet was mostly dried beans, peas, and whatever salted meat was still available. Vegetables were a
