He finally raised his eyes to hers. “I hope you don’t think I’m too forward.”
She nervously licked her lips. “Not at all.”
“Sorry I came to the back door an’ all—you deserve better than that—but I didn’t want to cause any fuss with your kin.”
“I understand.”
He paused, as if to gather his courage—a strange thing to do, Charlotte thought at the time, as she had nothing but admiration for the ranch foreman.
“You goin’ to the Burroughses’ party?” he asked. Told that she was, he gulped.
“Will you spare a dance for me?”
From that moment, Charlotte knew she had a sweetheart. She agreed to dance with Fitz, thanking him for the gift and the invitation with a light peck on his cheek. The look of wonder on his lined face was priceless. She almost wept with joy. He left a minute later, the slightly goofy expression still there.
Charlotte carefully hid her gift in her room, not wanting to answer uncomfortable questions from her father. She used it only for special occasions, and those times were reserved for Richard Fitzwilliam. She wore it to the dance, delighting the man. She offered no resistance when, late in the afternoon, they were able to steal away from the crowd, finding a quiet, private place to share their first kiss. It was everything Charlotte had dreamed it would be.
Their courtship, however, was not. Sheriff Lucas had questioned his daughter severely upon returning home. He had seen her dance with Fitz, and he made his displeasure plain. So firm was his admonition of her behavior—to him, dancing with Fitz was turning her back on his authority as her father—that Charlotte realized discussion or argument was useless. Nothing she could say would soften her father’s heart. Fitz was unworthy of her, and that was it. She would not be able to meet with Fitzwilliam openly, and as she had no intention of giving him up, they would have to meet secretly.
The solution was easily found. Gaby had expressed a desire to practice music with Charlotte on a weekly basis. Rather than making Miss Lucas go all the way to Pemberley, they would meet at the Catholic mission. Charlotte understood the concern over Whitehead; she had noticed his interest in both the Pemberley and B&R heiresses. The mission was close to town, so Gaby would still be safe on Pemberley land, and the church had a piano. One in the afternoon was the agreed time.
However, when securing her father’s permission for the scheme, Charlotte told one little lie—she said they would meet at noon and have a shared lunch before practice. Sheriff Lucas consented, happy that Miss Darcy was his daughter’s friend. But it wasn’t Gaby who Charlotte arranged to meet at noon, but Fitzwilliam. They would share a basket lunch weekly and have an hour of each other’s company in the shade of the trees near the mission’s cemetery.
Charlotte was certain that Gaby had no idea their musical meetings were a cover for her assignations with Fitzwilliam. She felt a bit guilty over using her friend, but she convinced herself that she had no other choice. As for Father Joseph, if he was aware of the goings-on in his cemetery, he made no comment.
As July stretched into August, the couple spent less time eating and more time enjoying each other’s company in more demonstrative ways. By September, Charlotte was certainly compromised, but not irreversibly so. They had not consummated their love and passion, but each week it grew more difficult to restrain their mutual desire—as it had today.
The troubles in town might have ended the meetings of the Ladies Musical Society, but Charlotte’s weekly visits with Gaby continued. The plain sheriff’s daughter was thought to be immune from whatever was going on. She could travel in town openly and without escort as long as it was during the day. Besides, the queer girl was known to be armed and an excellent shot, as she had proved during rodeos past. So, Charlotte was able to keep her rendezvous with her lover while most women were shut at home.
Whether it was the cool weather, the tension in town, or simply because it had been a week since she had been in Fitz’s arms, Charlotte was more passionate than ever. The air seemed to rush past her ears as she lost herself to her emotions. Fitz’s lips traced a trail down her neck as his hand lightly teased the cloth that covered her breasts. The girl was on fire, a low moan escaping her lips. In the back of her desire-intoxicated mind, she knew if Fitz lowered his hand and raised her skirts, she would willingly part her legs and allow him to take her. Therefore, it took her a moment to realize the cowboy was no longer half-lying on top of her but had instead rolled over onto his side.
“Oh, God, sweetheart, I love you,” he panted.
For an instant, Charlotte was aggrieved and disappointed before her modesty and common sense caught up with her emotions. Once again, Fitz had shown more restraint than she had, and though she flushed with shame at her behavior, her love for and pride in him increased. She tenderly stroked his face.
“It feels like a wonderful dream, every time I’m in your arms. I keep waiting to wake up and find out that you don’t really care for me—that this has never happened.” He kissed her fingers to reassure her. She smiled, the heat infusing her body starting to fade. “I’d best get the lunch. Gaby will be here soon.”
Fitz turned his eyes to her. “No hurry. Gaby’s not coming.”
“What?” Charlotte sat right up, pulling her hand away from his. “Why not? Is anything wrong?”
Fitz was on his side, his head propped up by one arm. “Naw. She’s fine. It’s just that Will’s gone to Fort Worth, an’ he don’t want Gaby to leave the house ’til he gets back.”
Charlotte was initially relieved, until another thought struck her. “How long have you known this?”
“Since Monday.”
“And you didn’t get word to me? Oh!” The girl stood up, wrapped her arms around herself, and paced furiously. Fitz scrambled to his feet.
“Honey, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Everything. Oh!” Fitz tried to console her without success. How could Charlotte explain her feelings? It was onething to fib to her father and come early for her meetings with Gaby so that she could spend time with Fitz. It was another thing entirely if Gaby wasn’t there at all. The sensible part of her mind whispered that deceit was deceit, and there was little difference between the two. But a woman in a forbidden romance was hardly sensible, and it would take some minutes before the girl could manage her guilty emotions.
“I’m all right, Fitz,” she said into his dusty shirt as he held her to his chest. “I’d best get the luncheon from the cart.”
Soon the two were nibbling on cheese, bread, and apples, sharing water from Fitz’s canteen. The romantic spell had been broken for now, so they discussed the doings around town.
“Denny’s men are still crawling all over the place,” Charlotte told Fitz. “They walk around as if they own the town, demanding favors from the shopkeepers. Mrs. Zimmerman’s told me she can’t keep sweets in stock.” She noticed the concern and anger on Fitz’s face. “Oh, they leave me alone, don’t worry.”
“Like hell I won’t! What makes you so sure you’re safe walkin’ the streets?”
“Besides being the sheriff’s daughter? They’ll have to notice me, first. Being plain has its advantages.”
“You ain’t plain,” Fitz said with conviction and not for the first time.
Charlotte smiled. “I’m glad
Fitz grimaced. “Humph. I reckon I ought to be grateful them bushwhackers must be blind as well as greedy,” he said without a smidgen of counterfeit praise. Charlotte was amused, gratified, and just a little mystified at this continued evidence of her boyfriend’s admiration. “You sure you’re safe?”
“Absolutely.”
Fitz sighed. “I still don’t like this. What’s your paw doin’ about it?”
“He’s had words with Judge Phillips, and he’s been told that they’ll be reined in. Besides, there’s not much he can do if the folks won’t swear out an official complaint. They’re scared of Denny, and they won’t, so all Paw and his deputies can do is try to keep an eye on things.”
Fitz tossed an apple core into the woods. “He ought to do more,” he grumbled.
“With what? Fitz, there’s only the three of them. How can he go up against Denny? He’s outnumbered four- to-one.”
Fitz paused. “I suppose they ain’t spendin’ a whole lot o’ time lookin’ for Miss Lily.”
“No. Ever since they found her horse, they’ve given up on the search, no matter how much they claim otherwise. Paw’s busy watching Denny, and…” She looked away. “Fitz, do you really think Lily can be found?”
“I don’t know, but Will says we gotta keep an eye open for her. He promised the Bennets he wouldn’t quit,
