Beginning, Previous Section, Section IV, Next Section
Posted on Wednesday, 21 January 2004
For the next two weeks, Lizzy and Will studiously avoided one another. If one of them entered a room already occupied by the other, the other would get up and leave. The only time Lizzy and Will were ever in the same room was at meal times, and even then it was a race to see who could eat the fastest as they both contrived to be the first to leave the table.
Lizzy stood at the kitchen sink, drinking her morning coffee. From the window over the sink, she could see Will down by the corral breaking in his new horses. She watched him lead a mottled colored horse around the fence lines before jumping bareback onto the horse’s back. Despite her current warring emotions, she thought he looked magnificent. He really was an incredible horseman. It was as if horse and rider had melded into one, there was so much force and power there. She imagined that this must be what a centaur looked like.
She needed to speak with him, she mused. Instinctively, her hand tightened its grip around the ceramic coffee mug. The Cattlemen’s Barbecue was only a few weeks away and there were some details she needed to discuss with him in order to finalize the arrangements. But, he’d been avoiding her for weeks now, even canceling their regularly scheduled bi-weekly meeting to review the ranch and household accounts. She hadn’t been surprised to receive his message though, not when she’d been making as much of an effort to stay away as he.
Behind her, Fanny was pounding out her dough and rolling it out to make biscuits for the chicken potpie they were going to have for lunch. Up since dawn, Fanny had already completed one batch, letting them rest and rise before she popped them into the oven. She was now working on her second. The cowhands, she knew, were especially fond of her old granny’s recipe for biscuits.
Lizzy turned away from the window, just in time to catch her mother swipe an arm across her forehead. She sat down at the opposite end of the kitchen table with her plate of toast. She watched her mother as she continued to sip her coffee.
Fanny put down the mound of dough she’d been working on before wiping her hands across her apron and picking up her own cup of coffee. She caught Lizzy staring at the white streaks of flour she’d left behind on her apron.
“You going to eat your breakfast or what, child? Your toast is growing cold.”
“What?” Lizzy shook herself awake. She looked stupidly at her toast for a minute. “Oh, yeah. Right.” She reached for the jar of strawberry jam and proceeded to smear a dollop of her mother’s homemade jam on her toast with a butter knife.
Fanny glanced hard at her daughter, and was immediately filled with concern. A mother, she thought, could always tell when there was something wrong with her child. And there’d been something wrong with Lizzy for over two weeks now. She knew because she could see it in Lizzy’s eyes. Covering the dough so it wouldn’t dry out, Fanny then took a seat next to her daughter and asked, “Did you and Will get into another one of your fights?”
A fight, Lizzy wondered. Was that what you would call their kiss?
“No, at least, not that I know of. Why do you ask?”
“Are you sure? I can’t help but notice that you haven’t exactly been talking to one another lately.”
“Will and I never talk to one another. Rather, we participate in verbal battles.”
“Semantics,” Fanny waved aside their differences. “You’ve been purposely avoiding each other,” she observed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lizzy took a bite of her toast. Still munching, she said, “Mm, this is good.”
“Are you trying to change the subject, Lizzy dear?”
Lizzy licked the jam from her fingers. “You know, Momma. Nobody makes strawberry jam like you do.”
“I wish you and Will weren’t always at such odds with one another.”
“You’re just being ultra-sensitive, Momma. Will and I are getting along fine, no different from how we normally get along.”
“Right,” Fanny drawled. “That’s why you avoid each other like the plague. I’m not stupid, Lizzy. Nor was I born yesterday. I see the way you two dance around each other.
“Besides, I know you don’t like broccoli; yet, last night, you swallowed it down like it was ice cream or something, you were in that much of a hurry to leave the dinner table.”
“Maybe I’ve acquired a taste for broccoli or something.”
“That’s not very likely, is it?
“You know,” Fanny continued. “There was a time when I really thought that the two of you might have had a future together.”
Elizabeth almost spewed her mouthful of coffee. As it was, she burned her throat as she choked it down. “Please, Momma. I’m trying to eat my breakfast over here!”
“I’m serious!” Fanny exclaimed. “You would be perfect for one another.”
“How on Earth did you ever come up with that idea? Are you sure you’re feeling all right this morning? Maybe I should take you to see the doctor.”
“I’m not blind, you know, Lizzy. I’m a mother. I’ve got eyes on all sides of my head. I see the way you two get along.”
Lizzy almost choked on her toast. “Yeah, like cats and dogs! When have Will and I ever shown signs of getting along?”
“Well, you haven’t of late,” her mother admitted. “But, when you first came home from college and started working at the ranch, it really seemed as though you’d struck some sort of an accord. I’d never seen you two get along so well before. And don’t think I don’t know that you went horseback riding together a couple of times.”
Lizzy tried not to roll her eyes. “That wasn’t exactly a secret.”
“But it’s not just that, Lizzy. I saw the way you got along as children.”
“Like two hens always pecking at one another, fighting at every turn?”
“Don’t try and be cute, Lizzy. It doesn’t become you,” Fanny admonished. “No, I was actually referring to the way Will always watched over you and protected you from any potential harm.”
“Is that what you call it, being protective? I always thought it was Will butting his business into where it wasn’t needed.”
“Lord knows someone had to do. You were already keeping your father and me on our toes, as it was.” Lizzy wrinkled her nose at her mother. “Are you going to try and deny that you weren’t a handful?” Fanny demanded. “You still do, you know. I don’t know how you got to be so stubborn and independent. Both your father and I are so mild-mannered.”
Lizzy would have disagreed, but her mother was on a roll. And when Fanny Bennet was on a roll, there was no interrupting the woman.
“I mean, it’s not a bad thing to be independent. But some times, you’re just too independent for your own good!” Fanny shivered involuntarily. “You know, dear, I used to think, and sometimes still do, that you like to go off and do your own thing just because you know it will antagonize Will and grab his attention.”
“What?!?” Flabbergasted didn’t even come close to describing how Lizzy felt. She suspected, though, that she looked akin to a gaping fish.
She saw her mother open her mouth and immediately put up a halting hand. “No, no. Please, don’t tell me. I don’t think I want to hear your twisted explanation.
“Tried to get Will’s attention,” she muttered to herself. “Yeah right.”
“Well, didn’t you?”
Lizzy turned once more to her mother. “I refuse to discuss this anymore. You, mother, are clearly delusional.”
“Fine,” Fanny said, rising to return to the kneading and cutting of her biscuit dough. “Have it your way. Just trying to provide some motherly insight.”
“I think I would have preferred it if you’d kept it to yourself.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Well, I’m off to town this morning,” Lizzy then announced, relieved to be able to change the subject. “I have some errands to run. Do you need anything while I’m there?”
Fanny thought about it for a minute, running through a mental checklist. “No, I don’t think so. But, why don’t you ask Georgie if she’d like to go with you? She could keep you company, and I’m sure she’d like a trip into town, even if she is just going along for the ride. It’d be good for her to get out some.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Lizzy brightened considerably at the thought. It would be nice to have company. “I’ll run it by her. Know where she is?”
“Try the chicken coop. I think it was her turn to feed the chickens and fetch their eggs this morning.”
Lizzy headed for the chicken coop, still thinking about her mother’s comment. She couldn’t prevent the snort that escaped.
She found Georgiana where her mother had predicted she’d be. “Hey,” she called out by way of greeting.
“Lizzy!” Georgiana looked up from the hen’s nest, where she’d been trying to surreptitiously retrieve an egg.
“Ow! Hey!” Georgiana turned and scowled ferociously at the unrepentant hen, which just sat there as though it had done nothing wrong. The hen had taken advantage of Georgiana’s distraction to peck her sharply on the back of her hand. Georgiana continued to shake and massage her hand all at once, trying to alleviate the throbbing pain.
“Here, let me take a look at it.” Lizzy took the hand and examined it gently. The skin was red, but otherwise without punctures. Rubbing her fingers lightly over the wounded area, Lizzy asked, “Does it feel a little better now?”
“Some.”
Lizzy nodded. “You’ll be okay. But, to be on the safe side, let’s go in and get your hand washed, and then we’ll put some antiseptic on it.”
“Okay.”
With Lizzy helping, the unpleasant chore of retrieving eggs from possessive hens went by must more quickly. Lizzy then tended to Georgiana’s first aid needs. As she wrapped rubbed the ointment on Georgiana’s hand, Lizzy took the opportunity to ask her whether she’d like to accompany her into town.
Georgiana’s eagerness was genuine. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t have asked you if I did,” Lizzy told her. “I’m afraid it won’t be a terribly exciting trip. I just have a couple of errands to make.”
“Oh, it’s fine. It’s great!” Georgiana amended. “I was getting so bored, sitting at home with nothing to do. This would be the perfect thing.”
Lizzy felt as though she had just handed the young girl a slice of decadent and forbidden chocolate cake.
“Oh, thank you so much, Lizzy! You’re the best!”
Georgiana continued to chatter excitedly all the way into town.
“You got up kind of late this morning.” Georgiana said after a while as she glanced sideways at Lizzy. “That’s unusual for you, isn’t it? Did you have another late night last night? With George?” She waggled her eyebrows, but Lizzy, who was too busy concentrating on the road in front of her, missed it.
“Yes, as a matter of fact I did go out with George last night,” Lizzy said as she turned on the car’s blinkers and strained her neck around to look left and right before making a right-hand turn. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” They’d encountered Georgiana on their way out of the house the previous evening.
“That makes it two nights in a row. Must be some kind of a date, huh?”
Lizzy considered the question. She wasn’t sure whether spending four hours in a dark and smoky bar, surrounded by tons of other people, constituted a date. Especially when she’d sat for most of those four hours watching her alleged date spend most of his time playing pool and conversing with people other than herself.
“I don’t know,” Lizzy sighed. Thus far, she was forced to admit, the reality had fallen pitifully below the dream. She briefly remembered the first time she’d spoken with George down by the corral, and the feeling she’d gotten in her stomach after talking with him. She remembered she’d walked on cloud nine for the rest of the day, and dreamt of the next opportunity she’d have to be with him again. She hadn’t felt that sort of excitement, that sort of urge to be with him in a very long while.
It made her realize that whatever crush she might have had on him before, was totally over now.
“George is so dreamy.” Georgiana had already moved on to the next point.
And therein laid the problem, Lizzy thought. The man was a seductive charmer, always ready with a compliment, and always ready with the right words. There wasn’t a situation that he couldn’t talk himself out of. Or into, as the case was with Lizzy. She still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to talk her into going out two nights in a row. That was so unlike her.
“Are you going to go out with him again tonight?” Georgiana asked.
“No,” Lizzy shook her head. “I have an early meeting tomorrow morning.”
“What a shame,” Georgiana sighed.
Lizzy turned away from the road, her eyes curious. “You’ve got it pretty bad for George, don’t you?”
Georgiana shrugged. “I’ve got to live vicariously through someone else and it might as well be you. Will won’t let me date.”
“You’ve years ahead of you,” Lizzy said. She wasn’t sure that she altogether agreed with Will’s methods, but she could understand his concerns. And besides, though she was prepared to butt heads with him in all other areas of life, this was one area where she would not undermine his decisions. Georgiana was his sister, not hers.
“He’s such an overbearing lout,” Georgiana grumbled.
“But he’s an overbearing lout that loves you.”
“So? That still leaves him being an overbearing lout.”
Lizzy chuckled. She wasn’t going to disagree. “I think your brother was just born overprotective.”
“Well I wish he’d stop!”
“Don’t we all!”
The girls giggled the rest of their way into town.
Will had been working with the horses all morning long, trying to break in his newest acquisitions. He’d already finished with Cloud, his white horse that was covered with splotches of gray. Now, he was working with the second horse. He stepped aside with care as it reared up on its hind legs, kicking its front hooves high into the air. With supreme concentration, Will was able to bring the horse back down, calming it down with his soft, gentle noises, relieved that the horse was no longer a danger to itself or others.
“Guess he won’t ready for the saddle, huh, Mr. Will?” Ryan, the youngest child of his cowhand Mike, sat on the fence and swung his legs back and forth.
“Wasn’t,” Will instinctively corrected. And then thought about how that used to drive Lizzy crazy. He wondered for a minute whom had done what on purpose – her speaking grammatically incorrect so that he would feel compelled to correct her, or him taking great pains to correct her at every turn. Will guessed that it had probably been a little bit of both.
“Are you going to put the saddle back on her, Mr. Will?” Ryan asked.
“Not today, Ry. I think Sugar Maple has had enough for one day. When you’re breaking in horses, you don’t want to rush. You want your horse to trust you, or else you’ll never be able to get it trained,” he explained. It was never too early to teach a young cowhand the tricks of the trade.
“She’s awfully pretty, isn’t she, Mr. Will?” There was a hint of wistfulness in the little boy’s voice.
“Yes, she is,” Will agreed.
He fished a couple of sugar cubes out of his pocket and led the caramel colored horse over to the fence where Ryan sat. “Here,” he said, handing the sugar cubes to the young boy. “Now, you want to hold your hand out steady,” he instructed.
Ryan did as he was told. But, when the horse began to nibble at the palm of his hand, he flinched.
“Don’t be scared,” Will soothed, holding both horse and boy steady with his hands. “If you’re gentle, the horse will be gentle too.”
Ryan bravely stuck his hand back out, even going so far as to hold his one arm up with his other hand to keep it steady, and let the horse finish sucking up the sugar cubes.
“Good, good,” Will intoned.
“It kinda tickles,” Ryan giggled.
Sugar Maple finished licking up the sugar cubes, and then turned her head to look at the side. She nudged Will’s pocket, knowing that was where he kept the treasure trove. Laughing, Will indulged the horse with one more sugar cube. “And that’s the last one you’re getting,” he told her. “You don’t want to be greedy and make yourself sick.”
Ryan clapped his hands with glee, excited that he’d gotten to feed the horse. He was still babbling with happiness when his mother showed up a few minutes later.
Ryan was the first to spot her. “Mommy, mommy! Guess what I did!”
Michele stepped shyly to the fence. Though her husband had reassured her that he was an amiable sort of person, she still found the boss of the ranch a little intimidating. “Hello, Mr. Darcy,” she said politely.
“Michele,” Will acknowledged with a respectful tip of his hat. “I do wish you’d call me Will. Mr. Darcy makes me think my dad is still alive, standing behind me.”
“Sorry . . . Will.”
He grinned. “Much better.”
“Mommy, mommy,” Ryan battled for her attention, grabbing her arm. “Guess what I got to do!”
“What did you get to do, hon?” she asked her son, framing his precious face within her hands.
“Mr. Will let me feed sugar cubes to the horse. And I did!”
Will smiled at the young boy’s enthusiasm and left the mother and son pair to return Sugar Maple to her paddock.
“You did?!” Michele asked, careful to have the perfect amount of excitement in the inflection of her voice.
“Uh-huh. And all by myself.” The little boy puffed his chest out proudly.
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“All by yourself?”
“Well,” Ryan drawled. “I suppose I did have a little bit of help.”
“In the form of Mr. Will?”
“Uh-huh.” Ryan grinned slyly.
Michele grinned broadly. “That’s what I thought.”
“But I did most of it by myself.”
“I’m sure you did, sweetie.”
“Mommy, mommy!”
“Hm?”
“Can I learn how to ride, like Daddy and Mr. Will?”
“Oh, well,” Michele colored, unsure of how to answer. Her son had caught her off guard. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see her little boy doing something so dangerous. What if he fell off the horse? What if the horse lost control and tore down a field with her little boy clinging to its back? A little boy could hurt himself in many different ways, riding a horse.
“I don’t know, hon . . ..”
“How old are you, Ry?” Will asked, joining them once more.
“Five.” Ryan very proudly held up five fingers.
“I don’t know, hon,” Michele quickly repeated. “You’re still awfully young. Maybe next year.”
Ryan pouted.
“You can never start too early,” Will decreed. “I had Lizzy on a horse when she was only three, and Georgiana four. They loved it. They were both riding their own ponies when they were Ryan’s age.”
“Really?” Michele asked.
“Yeah. I’m an old hand at teaching kids how to ride. I’ll speak to Mike about it. We even have a pony that Ryan can learn to ride on. He’s got he sweetest temper and his name is Big Red,” Will told Ryan. “What do you think of that?”
“Big Red! Big Red!” Ryan started to chant. He was clearly enamored with the idea.
“Oh! But you’re already so busy,” Michele protested. It was the only excuse she could come up with at a moment’s notice.
Will chuckled. “Just you wait and see. Around here, when someone learns how to ride, it becomes a group effort. Everyone is suddenly eager to put in his two cents. So, don’t you worry, I’ll have plenty of help. You’ll see.”
“Yay! I get to ride Big Red!” Ryan cheered. He might not have understood everything the adults were saying, but he certainly understood enough to know that he was going to get his way.
“We still have to talk to your Daddy,” Michele reminded him.
But Ryan was already too busy hugging himself with happiness. “I don’t care. Daddy will say yes. I know he will.”
“Yeah,” she grimaced, wrinkling her nose. “He probably will.” After all, once a cowboy, always a cowboy.
“Don’t worry, Michele. We’ll take good care of him when the time comes.” He tickled Ryan’s stomach, making sure at the same time that Ryan wouldn’t fall off the fence as he doubled over with laughter.
Michele spared Will a brief glance and smiled, amused at the easy affection he showed her son. “Come on,” she said to her son. “I think we’ve bothered Mr. Will long enough, don’t you?”
“No,” Ryan answered bluntly. Will chuckled.
Michele tried not to blush. “It’s time to let Mr. Will get back to his work.” She held out her arms and Ryan climbed into her embrace.
To Will, she said, “Thank so much for watching after him this morning. I didn’t know Mike was going to dump him on you this morning when I had an unexpected shift in my schedule this morning. I don’t always teach piano lessons in the morning,” she felt the need to explain.
“Don’t worry about it,” Will brushed aside her concerns. “Mike didn’t dump the little tyke on me. I offered to take him. And we had fun, didn’t we, Ry?”
“Yeah!”
“He wasn’t too much trouble?” Michele asked, still not convinced. She knew what a handful her youngest could be.
“Not at all. He’s welcome to hang out with me any time.”
“Thanks, Will.” She turned back to Ryan and instructed, “Say good-bye to Mr. Will, now, and remember to say thank you too.”
“Bye, Mr. Will! Thank you!” Ryan waved to Will from his mother’s arms.
Will waved back. “Bye Ryan! Bye Michele!”
Once they left, Will turned his attention back to his horses. Sugar Maple still needed to be brushed down. He grabbed a currycomb and began to brush her mane.
Don came out of the barn. He had his hands tucked into his pockets and he was chewing on a toothpick. “Cute kid,” he said out of the side of his mouth.
“Yeah, he is.”
“You looked pretty comfortable with the kid.” Will didn’t say anything in reply. “When you gonna have one of your own?”
Will turned a baleful glance at Don. Don got the hint and backed off. “I think I’ll see to the feeding down on Lot 4.”
Yeah, you do that, Will thought. With Don gone, Will went back to brushing out the knots in Sugar Maple’s mane. Then, shifting to the horse’s other side, with his pail in hand, he saw that he had a perfect view of the chicken coop.
And that was how it came to be that he saw Lizzy walking towards it.
The sunlight glinted off her auburn ponytail. And she had a jaunty step to her walk. He wondered what had put it there, remembering their kiss from two weeks ago, recalling that she’d gone out with George just the night before.
“Damn and blast.”
It irked him that she could be so unaffected as to date other men. Meanwhile, while she was out, carousing around the town, he was lying alone in his bed at home – unable to fall asleep. The fact that she was keeping company with George only added to the insult.
In a perverse and macho sort of way, Will wondered whether they had kissed. And if they had, who was better.
Lizzy and Georgiana strolled down the main strip of the small town in which they belonged, peeking through the assorted storefronts. Lizzy had completed her errands to the bank and florist. She’d even stopped by the bookstore and picked up, as a surprise present, a copy of one of those romance novels her mother loved to read so much. Now, they were just walking around killing time. Lizzy was getting a kick out of watching Georgiana’s face light up every time she saw something that interested her in the store windows.
“How about we have some lunch before we head on back?” she asked on an impulse.
“Really?”
“Sure, why not? I don’t think my mom’s expecting us back for lunch.”
Georgiana dug her toe into the cement sidewalk. “I didn’t bring any money with me. I could pay you back though. When we get back to the ranch.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lizzy said airily. “It’ll be my treat.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Lizzy laughed. She swung an arm around Georgiana’s shoulder. “I think your brother pays me well enough that I can take his little sister out for a blue plate special and a slice of Aunt Louisa’s heavenly horse chestnut pie.”
“Cool! I love Aunt Louisa’s pie!”
“Well, let’s go to it then.” Lizzy turned at the corner and led Georgiana down the street to Cheapside, the local mom and pop diner that was as much a permanent fixture in Lambton as was the old Spanish monument that had stood in the middle of the town square for as long as anyone could remember. Cheapside’s owners, the husband and wife team of Ed and Louisa Gardiner, had been around for as long as anyone could remember too.
Before they reached Cheapside, they had to pass by the music shop. “Lizzy,” Georgiana tugged her arm. “Do you mind if I run in here for a second? I want to see if they have Jane Fairfax’s latest CD. I just love her music!”
Lizzy tried not to cringe at the young, teenybopper’s name. “Um, sure.”
Ten minutes later, they walked out of the store, Georgiana swinging a small plastic bag from her arm. “Thanks, Lizzy. I promise I’ll pay you back as soon as we get back home.”
“Whenever,” Lizzy answered, unconcerned. “Besides, it’s not like I don’t know where you live,” she teased.
“You’re so cool,” Georgiana said as she enthusiastically grabbed the restaurant door. A little bell, signaling that the door was open, tinkled overhead. “Will would never be this nice. He probably would’ve given me a lecture on the importance of saving hard-earned money before letting me buy the CD, knowing all the while that he was making me feel guilty so that by the time I bought the CD, I wouldn’t really want to buy the CD.”
Lizzy wasn’t sure why, but she felt compelled to rise to Will’s defense. “He’s not all that bad,” she said as they slid into an empty booth. She took a worn and plastic-covered menu from behind the napkin dispenser and said, “In fact, your brother can be pretty thoughtful and generous.”
Georgiana glanced down at her skirt, remembering how she’d been shopping at the mall with her brother when she’d first seen it in the window of a local designer’s boutique. She’d gazed hungrily at the skirt, wanting it from the moment she’d laid her eyes on it. But, she never said a word. There was no way her brother was going to buy it for her. The boutique was notoriously expensive and the skirt wasn’t even on sale. But, all week long she’d dreamt of the skirt and how she would look in it. The next weekend, after she’d returned from church, the skirt had mysteriously appeared on her bed. As soon as she saw the skirt, she knew her brother had gone back for it without telling her.
“Yeah, I suppose he can.” Georgiana sighed before bending down to study the old and familiar menu.
The waitress came and took their orders. After she left, Lizzy took a sip of her water before saying, “I remember when I was a little girl. I had this stuffed cat, named Myrtle. She was a gray tabby cat, with a white little nose, and she had this sheer gray ribbon that tied around her neck. She was the most beautiful stuffed animal you’d ever seen, well, until I started carting it around everywhere I went and it got all worn and scruffy. But I didn’t care. She was still beautiful to me and I truly believed that Myrtle was real. Next to Jane, Myrtle was my best friend and I told her everything. It never mattered that she couldn’t reply with a meow, or had to be carried around because she couldn’t get anywhere by herself. Myrtle was very real to me and I didn’t go anywhere without her. It got to be that she became a permanent fixture underneath my arm.”
“How come I don’t remember ever seeing a gray stuffed cat in your room?” Georgiana asked.
“That’s because I no longer have her.
“Why not?”
Lizzy took another sip of water and shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “I lost her when I was about seven.”
“What happened?”
“We went on a camping trip one weekend, your family and mine, and I must’ve left her behind by accident because when we returned home, I couldn’t find her. I was so upset when I discovered that she was gone. I ranted and raved at your brother, blaming him for my loss. You see, when we were packing up our stuff, Jane and I were dawdling and your brother was trying to hurry us along. So, your brother became my perfect outlet. I told him that if it hadn’t been for him rushing us, I never would’ve forgotten to pack Myrtle.
“Your brother didn’t say anything though. He just let me cry and hit him. He really had the patience of a saint, now that I think about it. Anyways, he and my dad went back to the campsite the next day, but Myrtle was gone. I don’t know who took her. But, the point was, she was lost and I was never going to get her back. Well, that only sent me into a worse fit. I really lit into him then.”
“And he didn’t say anything?”
“No. And it wasn’t even his fault, really. It just seemed easier, at the time, to blame him rather than blame myself for my carelessness. But you know what he did?”
Georgiana shook her head.
“He found my Myrtle.”
“He did?!”
“Yup. He found her stashed in one of the sleeping bags. He said she must’ve gotten rolled into one of them by accident and that he found her when he went to air them out.”
“Wow! What luck!”
“Yeah, well. The thing is, as soon as I held her in my arms, I knew it wasn’t my Myrtle. I don’t really know how I knew it wasn’t the same stuffed cat; I just did. This one was an imposter Myrtle, and I told him so. I didn’t want some random cat, one your brother had bought for me in an effort to replace my lost Myrtle.”
“Oh. Still, that was really sweet of him.”
“Yeah . . . I threw it on the ground, stomped on it for a little bit, and then picked it up and threw it in your brother’s face.”
“Oh my gosh!”
“Your brother stood there, the entire time, without so much as a flinch. When the stuffed cat bounced off his face, he calmly bent over, picked it up, and walked off with it.”
“Oh my gosh,” Georgiana repeated.
“I know,” Lizzy smiled, shrugging her shoulders. “I always have had a bit of a temper.
“Anyways, that’s why you’ve never seen Myrtle. Come to think of it, I don’t even know what Will ended up doing with the imposter Myrtle.”
Georgiana shook her head. “I can’t believe you threw it in his face, especially when he was only trying to do something nice for you.”
“I know. And that’s my point. You might not approve of everything your brother does now, but one day, you’ll learn to appreciate everything he’s done for you.” She paused and thought about what she’d just said. Then she smiled softly, mostly for her own benefit, and said, “I guess I have.”
Georgiana groaned. She should’ve seen, from a mile away, that there would be a moral to the story. There always was.
“Ah, good, the food is here. I’m starved.” Lizzy rubbed her hands in anticipation as the waitress placed a plate of plump, juicy hamburger and steak-cut fries in front of her. She practically grabbed the thick vanilla milkshake the waitress handed her. Sipping it, she moaned in ecstasy. “Now, this,” she said, gesturing to the food, “is good stuff!”
Georgiana attacked her grilled chicken sandwich, fries, and coleslaw with equal zeal. “They have the best fries here,” she said, dipping a fat, crispy potato wedge into a pool of ketchup. Ketchup, she mused, could have been its own food group.
“Don’t let my mom hear you say that,” Lizzy warned jokingly.
For the rest of the meal, they talked of other things, their earlier discussion about the faults and merits of Will Darcy forgotten. Louisa Gardiner stopped by their table halfway through the meal, bringing with her two heaping portions of her famed horse chestnut pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream to the side. “Hello, girls! I haven’t seen your faces in here in a long time. How are you?”
“Hello, Aunt Louisa,” Lizzy and Georgiana chimed. Louisa Gardiner wasn’t really their aunt, but it was what the entire town called her, just like everyone called her husband, “Uncle Ed.”
“We were running errands this morning, and then we got hungry,” Lizzy explained.
“Well, there’s only one place to go when you’re feeling hungry,” Louisa interjected.
“That’s exactly what we thought.”
“And we’re definitely not regretting our choice,” Georgiana added as she indelicately licked at a spot of ketchup at the corner of her mouth.
Louisa grinned. Nothing made her happier than knowing that people were eating up and loving it when they visited her diner. “I’ll let you girls get back to your meals, then. Growing girls need all the food they can get.”
Growing girls, indeed. Georgiana stifled her giggle as Lizzy kicked her under the table. Lizzy was in danger of losing her straight face herself.
“I’ve brought you two some of my homemade pie. On the house! Now don’t be such strangers. Come back more often. Y’all hear? And say hello to your mother for me, Lizzy. You tell her that I’m still holding out for her meatloaf recipe.”
“Will do, Aunt Louisa,” Lizzy chuckled.
There had been a long-standing friendly feud between Louisa Gardiner and Fanny Bennet. Louisa hankered after Fanny’s meatloaf recipe and, in return, Fanny wanted Louisa’s horse chestnut pie recipe. Neither was willing to part with her family’s heirloom recipe.
After Louisa left, Lizzy and Georgiana set aside their lunch in favor of dessert. They clinked their forks and said, “Cheers,” before tucking into their slices of pie with great gusto.
Will pulled off his dirty boots at the door and came whistling into the kitchen where he caught Fanny sneezing over a pot of stew, or at least desperately trying to sneeze everywhere else but over the stew. It was obvious, even at a glance, that she wasn’t feeling up to par.
“Fanny, you doing okay? You look like you could do with some rest,” he said.
“I’m feeling fine,” she lied. Ever since the morning she’d been feeling a little sniffly and light-headed.
“Besides, I’ve got too much stuff to do. I still have to finish this stew for dinner, and that laundry over there’s not going to fold itself.” Fanny pointed to the offensive subject, sitting atop of the kitchen table in its wicker basket, with her wooden spoon.
“Where is everyone?”
Fanny shrugged. “Tom and the other men aren’t back from the fields yet. Lizzy said she had an errand to run in town and Georgie went with her.”
“You could have told my sister to stay home, you know. Georgie could’ve helped you fold the laundry, at the very least.”
“She hardly gets out,” Fanny clucked sympathetically.
“You coddle her too much, Fanny.” It wasn’t a criticism. It was an observation. And it was true. Fanny coddled them all.
“Oh, but Will . . . you should have seen her. She fairly leapt at the opportunity to take a trip to town and when I saw her all happy and excited, I didn’t have the heart to tell her no. Besides, you know how she dotes on Lizzy. Thinks of her as an older sister. I think it was an extra special treat for her to be able to ride into town with Lizzy.”
“Hmph,” was all Will could say.
Fanny was truly not looking well at this point. She’d started coughing and wheezing too. Will couldn’t bear to see her looking that way anymore. Though he knew her to be stubborn, he also knew he was ten times worse. At least, that’s what Fanny had always said to him when he’d been a little boy.
“Fanny, you need to get some rest. Ah-ah-ah, I won’t take no for an answer,” he said, effectively cutting off any protestations she had been about to make.
He walked over to the stove and turned the range off. “You can finish the stew later.”
“B-b-but . . ..”
“It’s not going to go anywhere without you, Fanny, and I’m sure it’s not going to hurt it if you take a nap. For thirty minutes, at the very least,” he added. “I don’t want you to show your face in here for at least thirty minutes.”
“Well . . ..”
Will could see her relenting. “And don’t worry about the laundry either. I’ll take care of it.”
He laughed at Fanny’s expression. “I have folded laundry before you know. Just because you won’t let me doesn’t mean that I haven’t in the past. Who do you think folded my laundry in college? The laundry elf?” he teased.
Fanny sniffed. “I told you, you could have shipped your laundry home to me and I would’ve cleaned and folded it before sending it back to you.”
“And pressed, and starched, and dry cleaned too. Yes, yes, yes, I know you would fly to the moon if I asked you to.” Will couldn’t help himself. He walked over and gave the older woman an affectionate kiss on her forehead. “Fanny Bennet,” he said, “you spoil me. Now run off and take your nap before I try to persuade you to ditch your husband and run away with me.”
Fanny left the kitchen in a peal of laughter, although with her cough it came out as more of a bark. Will smiled as he heard her mutter to herself, “That rascal.”
Once he was sure Fanny wouldn’t try and sneak back into her eminent domain, Will turned his attention back to the load of laundry sitting right in front of him. As he bent to fish an article out of the basket to fold it, he was shocked to find himself staring at a sea of silk, lace, and other flimsy sorts of material.
This wasn’t laundry! This was silk and lacy under things! And they could only belong to one person, for only one person in this house would be wearing such things. Lizzy.
God . . . Will swallowed hard. Black, white, peach, pale yellow, sea foam . . . it was all there. He could feel his eyes beginning to cross.
In spite of the heated blush that was creeping slowly, but steadily, along the back of his neck, Will was determined to stop being such a ninny. Silk and lace aside, it was still laundry, and as he’d just told Fanny, it wasn’t as though he’d never seen or folded laundry before. Besides, he told himself firmly, he wasn’t a hermit. He’d seen silk and lace before, and on other women to boot.
But this is Lizzy’s silk and lacy under things! his mind screamed.
Tossing aside the errant thought, Will closed his eyes and dived into the deep end by plunging his arm into the wicker basket. Like a blindfolded boy on All Hallows Eve, bobbing for an apple, he fished out . . ..
He opened his eyes.
A black thong!
Will nearly swallowed his tongue.
My God, Lizzy wears black thongs? his mind continued to scream.
He was still staring slack-jawed at the tiny pair of thongs, hanging off the tip of his finger, when Lizzy and Georgie returned from their trip into town.
The first thing Lizzy saw when she came stomping through the mudroom off to the side of the kitchen was Will, standing at the breakfast table, holding up a pair of black underwear.
Her black underwear.
“Hey!” she exclaimed loudly. “What do you think you’re doing, pervert?”
Running over, Lizzy grabbed her underwear out of his hand. She fisted it against her hip as she turned to him, demanding an answer.
That had Will snapping out of his daze. Immediately on the defensive, he mimicked her stance. “I was just trying to fold your laundry. There’s no need to get all riled up about it.”
“Where’s my mother?” Lizzy looked around the kitchen, wondering why he was folding the laundry and not her. She’d never seen Will engaged in any sort of domestic act until now. That he should caught handling her underclothing was highly suspect.
“She’s resting,” Will told her. “I sent her off to bed when I saw that she wasn’t feeling well. Plus, I didn’t think we needed our dinner contaminated with germs,” he tried to quip.
That had Lizzy looking up. “She’s sick? My mother’s sick? She didn’t say anything to me earlier. What’s the matter with her? Why didn’t she say anything to me when I saw her earlier? Do you think she needs to see a doctor?”
“Nothing that a few hours of rest won’t cure,” Will soothed, not wanting to worry her. “She was just sniffling and sneezing and looking a little peaked too.
“Anyhow, that’s why I was folding your laundry. Your mom said she didn’t have time to take a nap because she still had to make dinner and fold the rest of the laundry. I figured we could fend for ourselves tonight and give her the night off. As for the laundry . . ..” Will shrugged. “I just thought it was going to be towels, shirts, and shorts, or something.”
He left off: I didn’t know it was going to be your black thongs.
Lizzy blushed, but she wasn’t sure from what. Was it from misunderstanding Will, thinking the worst of him, and calling him a pervert? Or was it from knowing that Will had just seen her underwear? And not just seen it, but also touched it.
She tried to be adult about the matter, and so avoided the subject entirely. Reaching around him, she grabbed the basket and said, “Yeah, well . . . thanks for trying to help out. And sorry I called you a pervert. Now that I’m back, I’ll just go and fold my own laundry. I think I’ll check in on my mom on the way upstairs, so if you’ll just excuse me . . ..”
Lizzy rushed out the door before Will could say anything else.
Will collapsed onto the old-fashioned picnic bench that accompanied the long, weathered picnic table they used in the kitchen as a breakfast table. He still couldn’t get it out of his head that he’d just seen Lizzy’s underwear.
He’d never pegged her for a silk and lace sort of person. If he’d ever imagined her in underwear, which he hadn’t of course, he would’ve pictured her in something sturdier, if you could call underwear sturdy, and sensible, like white cotton. That image seemed to fit her better. After all, she was the one who was always trying to prove herself and trying to be like one of the guys around the ranch. Silks and lace, however, made her appear more sensual, more feminine. And that was something Will didn’t need – one more reminder that Lizzy wasn’t just another cowhand to be bossed around, but very much a woman.
A woman that kissed like an angel, and wore silk and lace and black thongs.
Gees, Will held his head in the palm of his hands, wondering why was he even thinking about this. He knew he had to stop the madness.
Georgiana, who up until this moment had stayed back and remained silent, came up behind him to lay a hand on his shoulder. The contact had Will jumping a mile high, and left Georgiana giggling madly.
“What now?” he practically growled.
“I think you’re being cute,” she whispered into his ear, causing him to blush all over again.
Still giggling, Georgiana left her brother to his ruminations.
Posted on Monday, 2 February 2004
Lizzy hung up the phone. Picking up her pen, she checked off another item on her long list of “To Dos” with great satisfaction. Running an eye down the list, she tapped her pen against the side of her cheek and muttered to herself, “Great, one down and only ten million more to go.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Lizzy looked up in surprise as she watched Will saunter through the doorway. He flapped a pink slip of paper in his left hand. “I got your message. You said you needed to see me?”
Lizzy stood up from behind her desk. She bit her lips and wrung her hands. She hadn’t expected him to come so quickly. She thought he’d wait until later in the day to seek her out when he was done with his chores. It left her feeling unprepared. And, it irked her that he could make her so nervous. But, this was the first time they’d been face to face since the night they’d kissed and then that afternoon when she’d yelled at him. Called him names. Like pervert.
“I, erm, wanted to apologize. For the other day. I didn’t mean to call you a pervert. I . . ..”
“It’s forgotten,” Will cut in, eager to put the whole experience behind them so that they could move on. He didn’t really want to remember the reason why she’d called him a pervert in the first place either. If he thought about it for too long, he could still feel the soft silk of her underclothing on his skin.
“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” Lizzy voice sounded tinny even to her. She tried to smile her relief.
“Well,” Will hitched his belt. “I’m glad that’s settled. If there’s nothing else then, I’ve got to get back to work.”
He almost turned around, but Lizzy held her ground. “Wait!” He raised his eyebrows. “I have some other stuff to go over with you. While you’re here. If that’s all right, that is.” She tried not to huff.
Will hid the sigh that came to mind. He hadn’t wanted to spend any more time with her than what was necessary. It wasn’t easy being around Lizzy these days. Not when it sent his emotions all out of whack. “Sure,” he scratched the back of his neck. “I guess I’ve got some time to spare. What do you need?”
Lizzy held up her list and a stack of carefully organized folders. “Plans for the Cattlemen’s Barbecue.”
“Oh. Right.”
“I was hoping we could review some of this together as I’ll need your input and approval on some things.”
Knowing that this could take some time, Will nodded his head in resignation. He would suffer the next half hour like a man. He took his seat behind his desk and as Lizzy came to stand next to him, he tried not to breathe in the soft scent of her soap and shampoo. It tended to make his eyes cross.
“I called the band this morning and confirmed that they’ll be playing next week. They want a $300 deposit though, so I need you to write out a check. Lenny, their manager, said he’d be by to pick it up later today.”
Without saying a word, Will reached into his middle drawer and withdrew the ranch’s large checkbook. “To whom do I make this out to?” Lizzy told him and he wrote the name and amount, and then signed his name with a flourish. Without looking at her, he tore the check and handed it to her. “What’s next?”
Lizzy juggled the papers in her arm, searching for the one she was looking for. “Well, I called the liquor store and they reassured me that they’ll have the kegs of beer ready whenever we want them on Saturday.” She named a number and looked to Will for reassurance that she’d ordered enough kegs to keep the Barbecue going Saturday night.
The Cattlemen’s Barbecue was strictly non-alcoholic during the afternoon when all the events were still going on. But, by nightfall, once it was just food, dancing, and socializing, the beer flowed freely.
“Do you have someone that can go and pick them up for me on Saturday?”
“I’ll mention it to your dad. He’ll make sure that someone’s free to pick up everything you need in town next Saturday.”
“Okay. I can cross that off my list then. Now, let’s see . . . what’s next? Ah. Here we go. Food. Momma’s covering the food. We’ve gone over together how much to order of the basics – hamburgers, hot dogs, buns, fixings for chili, and other stuff like that – and she’s been coordinating with the kitchen over at Netherfield to make sure that all the prepared food gets done before Saturday. The barbecue pit needs to be cleaned and gutted though. I stopped by the site yesterday and it’s still filled with ashes from its last use.”
“I’ll get someone working on it immediately. Did you check and make sure we have enough charcoal? If not, you’ll have to order some more. And I’ll get some men to start chopping extra wood.”
Lizzy nodded and made a notation on her list. “I’d forgotten about the charcoal.”
“Make sure you get a large supply.” Once the fire got started, it wouldn’t be put out for the rest of the day. Hot dogs and hamburgers were cooked non-stop at the annual Barbecue.
“Okay.”
“Anything else?”
“I assume that you and my dad will work out the preparations for the events amongst yourselves?”
“Yeah.”
Lizzy nodded once more. “I was also hoping we could have some more stuff for the kids this year. The events at the Barbecue usually focus on the adults, but this year I thought we could do better than just an egg toss race. Maybe some three-legged races, sack races, mini-lassoing contests, stuff like that. Make it sort of a carnival for the kids too.”
Will thought about it some and nodded his head slowly. It was a good idea. There were lots of families with younger kids and it would give them something to do other than running around by themselves causing mischief. “That sounds like a really good idea, Lizzy. Work on that and if you need anything, just mention it to your dad. He’ll make sure that you have anyone you need to help set things up.”
“Great!” Lizzy couldn’t help but beam.
Will thought she was done and made to rise, but Lizzy stopped him once more. “Okay, just one more thing then before you leave. Bear with me.” She searched around and dug a folder out of the stack in her arms and opening it, placing it in front of Will. “I stopped by the florist in town last week to see what kind of suggestions they had for the trophy bouquet arrangements, and the prices. They were kind enough to provide me with these pictures and I wanted to know what you thought.”
Will stared at her like she’d gone mad.
“Come on, Will. What do you think?” She gestured once more towards the folder.
“Lizzy, I could care less about what flowers you got for the trophy bouquets. Just . . . order . . . something!” He waved his hands helplessly at the pictures.
She tried not to let her temper or impatience get the best of her. “Will, I have planned every other aspect of this Barbecue. Now, when you gave me this responsibility I told you I wasn’t comfortable with it and you reassured me that you would be there every step of the way to help me. Well, so far, I haven’t heard a single peep out of you. Now, can you just give me your input on this one, eensy, weensy, tiny thing?”
Will opened his mouth to give her the answer she wanted, but Lizzy cut him off. “And don’t give me some crap about women knowing more about flowers than men because you know perfectly well that I don’t know anything about flowers.”
“I wasn’t . . ..”
“You know, forget it.” Lizzy snapped the flower portfolio shut. “I’ll just stop by Netherfield later and ask Jane for her opinion. If you’re not willing to help me, then so be it. I’ll seek my help elsewhere.”
With that, she gathered up her stuff and stormed out of the office. Will, still sitting at his desk, expelled a breath of air. “Well! I guess she told me,” he muttered. “The little brat.”
Standing up from his desk, Will was determined not to let her attitude bother him. He grabbed his hat and shoved it on his head. He was ready to get back outside and back to work. That afternoon, Will pushed himself hard. First, he rode the fences and then, when he was tired of riding, he spent the rest of the afternoon mucking out the stalls.
No matter where he went though, Lizzy’s face haunted him. Sometimes with that defiant, tilted chin of hers, other times with her face broken out in an unabashed smile. At one moment she was telling him she could do anything he could do better, and at another moment she was clinging to his shoulder, confiding in him her fears and her sorrows. His mind replayed all their past conversations and he heard her say, “You’re perfect, Will, and you lead the perfect life. There’s nothing you can’t do and there’s nothing you’re not able to do.” He would have let his heart soar with glee, except that he also remembered her wiping her lips and saying, “It’s okay, Will. We just got caught up in the moment. Don’t worry; it’s already forgotten.”
He jammed his shovel into the dirt harder, flinging the piles farther. The sweat gathered around his crown and he wiped at it with the back of his sleeve. No, he wouldn’t let it bother him. He remembered the way she called him a pervert, and then how she’d stood in front of him this afternoon in embarrassment. No, she couldn’t be as unaffected as him. She was just pretending, just like him.
Was that why she got so mad at him when he told her to pick the flowers by herself? He stopped his actions for a minute and pondered the thought while leaning over the handle of his shovel. In an almost absent gesture, he scratched the back of his neck. Yeah, maybe that was it. But then he frowned. Was it? Women, he knew, were a troublesome sex to understand.
Giving up and conceding that he’d never be able to understand the female psyche, he went back to mucking the stalls. It was much easier to put shovel to dirt than to put some sense to Lizzy’s actions. He was still hard at work when Tom stopped by. “Hey,” his foreman called out to him. In his hand, Tom held a thermos of coffee. “You looked like you could use a break.”
Will was grateful to be able to put the shovel down for a minute or two. He yanked his right glove off his hand and took the proffered thermos. One swig and he was swearing. “Gees, Tom, that’s not coffee, that’s swill!”
Tom took the thermos back and sipped it himself. He grinned. “Yeah, guess it is a little cold.”
“Yeah, just a little bit. And don’t forget sludgy.” Will waved off the thermos when Tom tried to give it back to him. “I’d like the keep the lining of my stomach, thanks.”
“I’ve got a stomach made of iron and steel,” Tom boasted.
Will could barely muster a smile. “Everything all right, son?” Tom asked.
Will shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. Why?”
“You just seem a bit bothered this afternoon. Wanted to make sure everything was all right.”
“Everything’s fine,” Will lied. He didn’t think Tom would appreciate hearing that is was his daughter that had Will all hot and bothered that afternoon. Once Tom had his way with him, Will would definitely not be all right.
“Well, you keep working like that and you’ll be laid up for a week. Not good for your back and your bones,” Tom said sagely.
“Just trying to get some work done.”
“And there’s a right way to go about doing things and a wrong way.”
“Dammit, Tom,” Will ground out.
Tom immediately held up his hands in surrender. “All right, son. Easy there. I’ll back off. No need to have you come snarling after me like a lion after a piece of meat.”
A lion after a piece of meat, Will repeated to himself long after Tom had left. Was that how he was beginning to think of Lizzy? No, he shook his head. Surely not. Then why, he wondered, was it that he thought of her non-stop these days? Was it because she was always getting into scrapes and messes, like climbing on top of roofs or being accosted by the likes of Billy Collins? No, he had to answer honestly. She’d always been heedless. So, what was different about now? Was it because she insisted upon going out with George and he was merely feeling protective, knowing what a scoundrel George Wickham could be? No, because that wouldn’t explain the feeling he’d had when she’d helped wash Don’s car the other week, and how he hadn’t wanted the other men to see her dressed so skimpily.
Good lord, Will thought to himself, I’m not falling in love with her, am I?
Impossible! She’s a brat and impossible to get along with, he told himself. All he had to do was remind himself of the way she’d snapped at him earlier that morning. There was no way he was going to suffer her temper. Only a masochist would want to align himself with the likes of her, he told himself.
He was still telling himself that when he found himself plowing through Fanny’s garden, picking flowers.
Lizzy had her head propped up against an arm, which she’d draped along the back of Jane’s couch. She’d closed her eyes, trying to stop herself from replaying the moment when she’d snapped at Will and stormed out of their office. What had gotten into her?
She reopened her eyes when Jane stopped next to her and handed her a cup of soothing tea. “Here, you look like you could use some of this.”
“Thanks.”
“So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or are you going to make me pry it out of you?”
Lizzy set her cup on the coffee table and dug into her bag. “I need you to help me pick out a flower arrangement for the trophy bouquets. I have pictures of the arrangements here in my bag. I just don’t know which one I should pick. There are so many! And they all look the same to me.”
Jane doubted very much that it was her indecision that was so troubling, but if she wanted to play it that way, then she would oblige. “Let me have a look.” She took the folder from Lizzy and spent a few minutes studying it. Lizzy went back to staring out the window.
“Here. I think you should choose these.” Jane indicated three different arrangements. “This one I’d give to the first place winner, this one to the second place winner, and this one would go to the third place winner. And I think these simple nosegay arrangements would be perfect for the children’s events.”
Lizzy did a quick mental calculation of the number of events that would take place during the Barbecue and multiplied it by the costs of the arrangements. She found the number to be reasonable and within budget; she didn’t think that Will would nitpick over the expenses. At least, he’d better not, she told herself grimly, not when he was so unwilling to help. “Great. Thanks so much for your help, Jane.” She put check marks by the flower arrangements her sister had picked out so that she would remember which ones to order later, and then tucked the folder back into her bag.
She would have stood up, but Jane held her back. “Lizzy,” Jane took her hand, tugging her back down. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Even as she said it, she felt a sense of déjà vu.
Jane merely raised an eyebrow. She didn’t need a fortuneteller’s glass ball to know that her sister wasn’t being honest. “Try again.”
“Are you going to let me leave without telling you?”
“What do you think?”
“What if I told you I wasn’t ready to tell you?”
“Sometimes, we all need a little push.”
“So. No, huh?”
“That’s just about the only thing you’ve gotten right this afternoon. Come on, Lizzy. You know you can tell me anything.” When Lizzy still didn’t say anything and just stared at her hands, Jane tried again. “Does it have to do with a man?”
Lizzy nodded. “George?”
“George?” Lizzy asked with some surprise.
Jane smiled to herself. It was the perfect segue. She didn’t think that Lizzy was interested in George Wickham any more than her parents did, but they did think that Lizzy might have somehow deluded herself into thinking that she was interested in him. She was glad that it wasn’t so. “Momma might have mentioned to me that you’d gone out with him two or three times last week.”
“It was twice,” Lizzy said stiffly. “And nothing happened.”
“So it’s not George?”
“No, it’s never been George.” Lizzy traced a pattern along the leather upholstering.
Jane tried to be patient. “Then . . ..”
“I thought it might be George, at first, you know.” Lizzy crossed her legs and cradled her chin in her cupped hands. “He’s so attractive. I remember, even as a child, I thought him open and friendly, but enigmatic all at the same time. It appealed to me then, just as it did now. No,” she had to be honest, “his flattering and attentiveness appealed to me this time around. It was nice the way he asked me out, and then kept hounding me until I agreed to go out with him. But, that was when the magic ended.”
Lizzy shrugged. “It’s disappointing when the pictures you paint of something as a child end up not measuring up to the real thing.” She frowned. The same could be said of Will, only with a different outcome. A different understanding.
“Jane? Am I really a brat?” she asked suddenly.
“What makes you ask a question like that?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.”
“What kind of thinking?” Jane prompted when Lizzy didn’t say anymore.
Lizzy started to say something, but was saved by the phone ringing.
“Hold that thought,” Jane told her. “Hello?” She answered the phone. “Caroline! How wonderful to hear from you.” Lizzy tried not to roll her eyes at her sister’s patently false voice. She imagined that Caroline’s voice was also full of saccharine on the other end of the line.
“No, no. This isn’t a bad time for you to call. My sister was just visiting though. You remember Lizzy, surely.” Jane put a hand against the phone and mouthed the word, “Sorry,” to her sister. Lizzy simply smiled a humorless smile and waved back.
“Of course I remember that you’re coming to visit next week. You needn’t worry about that. We’ve got your room ready and waiting for you,” Jane said pleasantly.
“That’s right, the Cattlemen’s Barbecue is also that weekend. I’m sure Will would want you to come with us.” Lizzy stifled the snort that was just bubbling to erupt; she knew, just as everyone else did, that the prospect of seeing Will again was the only reason Caroline Bingley was coming to visit her brother. Normally, she wouldn’t even want to come within fifty miles of Lambton, Texas.
“That’s so sweet of you to think of me, Caroline. But, I assure you, I don’t need anything from L.A. You’d be surprised at what we can find, even here in good ol’ Lambton.”
Lizzy had a feeling that Jane’s subtle sarcasm was flying over Caroline’s head. She also had a feeling that this was going to be a rather lengthy conversation, especially since she knew how Caroline Bingley liked to talk about herself, and she wasn’t sure that she could stomach the sugar and honey falseness of the telephone call. She grabbed her bag and stood up. Jane, immediately alarmed, gestured for her to sit back down. “Don’t go,” she hissed out of the side of her mouth. “I’ll be off in a minute.” But, Lizzy was not to be detained.
She kissed her sister on her cheek and whispered, “I’ve got to get back to the ranch, actually. I’ll talk to you soon. I promise. Enjoy Caroline!”
As she drove the short distance between Netherfield Ranch and Pemberley Ranch, Lizzy let herself lean against her arm and stare out the front window. She couldn’t stop herself from replaying her words from the morning and groaned. The thought of returning to the ranch held no appeal. At the last minute, she turned her car off the main road, traveling down a bumpy side road. When she could go no further, she got out and went for a walk.
She ended up down by a thin stream. It flowed, she knew, from the big river that ran through a corner of Pemberley’s land. Down here though, the water had trickled down to a narrow length, so thin that she could’ve crossed it in two steps. Squatting near it, she dropped her head onto her knees and groaned. Would this never end, she wondered.
She’d already spent a sleepless night thinking about Will, and she hadn’t enjoyed a single minute of the constant tossing and turning. Since when, she asked of herself, did Will occupy so much of her free thoughts? Since you started to realize that he’s not so bad as you always thought, a tiny voice whispered in her head. Ever since the summer had begun and their relationship had shifted into the tentative arena of friendship, she’d begun to see Will in a completely different light. He was kind and compassionate, thoughtful even. He was smart and clearly knew what he was doing; the ranch’s account books stood as testament to that fact. He was protective, yes, but only because he was so concerned for the welfare of others.
Lizzy expelled a shaky breath. Goodness, she asked herself, had she actually come to admire the man she’d once loathed as a child?
Or was it more?
She thought of the looks she’d intercepted, and her body grew instinctively warm. She heard his voice and felt as though she could bask in its glow forever. She remembered the way his face had come down, crushing hers, in the only kiss that had ever stolen her breath away. If she touched her cheek, she could still feel the way his hand had cupped her face – gently, but firmly, possessive even.
Her breath hitched. What was she doing? She groaned again. Hadn’t she just said she wasn’t going to do this anymore? Angry with herself and angry with Will for making her feel this way, she stood up, her face fierce. In her hand, she ripped apart a bluebonnet. She wasn’t going to put herself through this torture anymore, she decided. She’d done it before and she’d do it again. She wasn’t going to think of Will anymore, and she would die trying in the process if she had to. It simply wasn’t healthy for her to be like this, and if it kept up, she wouldn’t be able to be in the same room as him ever again without turning into a shrew.
No, Lizzy decided. For his benefit and hers, she was going to stop trying to make sense out of something that would never make sense.
Feeling better, now that she had reached a decision and had a course of action to follow, Lizzy returned to the car. She even managed a smile on the rest of the drive home.
The smile quickly faded the moment she parked the car and climbed out of the driver’s seat. Reaching into the back seat, Lizzy retrieved her bag and swung it over her shoulder. She was in the process of locking her car door when she turned her head at the sound of her name, and saw George sauntering up to the big house from the direction of the bunkhouse.
“Hey,” she said as he drew near.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
“Oh yeah?” She cocked her head curiously and crossed her arms, waiting to see what he had to say. He looked like he had all the time in the world with the way he had his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans.
“I was wondering if you were busy this weekend.”
She wasn’t, but she figured he didn’t have to know that. “I’ve got some stuff to do. Why?”
“I thought maybe you might want to take a trip into town with me Saturday night, grab a bite to eat. I’ve got the night off.”
Lizzy had heard all that before, and they’d ended up at the Silver Spur, surrounded by the rest of the town looking for a good time on a Saturday night. With everything that had been going on in the past couple of days, weeks, Lizzy didn’t think she had the energy to put up with all of that. “I think I’ll take a rain check, but thanks.”
She moved towards the house, but George detained her with a hand on the arm. “Aw, c’mon, Lizzy. Won’t you think about it some more? We always have so much fun when we’re together.”
Lizzy looked pointedly at the hand wrapped around her arm. George immediately removed it. “I don’t think so.”
George fell into line beside her. “Are you mad at me, or something? Have I done something to offend you?” When Lizzy didn’t say anything, but continued on her way back to the house, he continued. “This isn’t the first time you’ve passed on dinner. I’m beginning to think you have something against me, Lizzy Bennet. I’m surprised. I thought we had a lot of fun those couple of times we went out together.”
Lizzy stopped at the bottom rung of the porch stairs. “Twice, George. Twice. It wasn’t a couple of times. It was twice.”
He was taken aback by the vehemence in her voice, and so was she. “Look, George. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you. And, I’m not really mad at you either. I guess I’m in a bit of mood today, that’s all. I’ve had a really long day already and I just want to go inside and put down my stuff, if that’s all right with you.”
“Yeah, sure.” George stepped away from the porch, backing off. “I’ll check back with you later, or something. Maybe you’ll change your mind, once you’re rested and feeling more like yourself.”
Lizzy didn’t think she would change her mind, but she said anyways, “That sounds good. Thanks.”
Without a backward glance, she entered the house and headed for her bedroom. She made a quick detour to the office to drop off her files though, and that’s when she saw it, sitting in the middle of her desk. The cobalt blue, glass pitcher filled to the brim with a bursting array of perfumed wildflowers, flowers she recognized from her mother’s garden. But, the arrangement wasn’t her mother’s. It was too primitive to be the work of Fanny’s hands. Too haphazard. And just about the loveliest bouquet she had ever seen or received.
Lizzy didn’t need a note to tell her who had left her flowers on her desk. But, she picked up the cream envelope, propped against the pitcher, anyways. Sliding out the card, she read it and smiled. The card and its simple message, “Sorry. Forgive me?” fell to the floor, as Lizzy clutched the pitcher of flowers to her chest and watered it with her tears.
George Wickham lay on his bed, his arms crossed behind his head. Shifting in his bed, he turned his head and gazed out his cabin window to stare at the crescent-shaped moon. He couldn’t believe Lizzy Bennet had turned him down that afternoon. He could’ve sworn that she was incapable of resisting his charms. Most women couldn’t. Had he been pegging her incorrectly all along? He hoped not. He’d come to see her as his good-luck charm.
Turning away from the window, he glanced at the wall next to his bed. The calendar of pin-up girls he’d hung on the wall when he’d moved into the cabin stared mockingly back at him. He tried not to think about it, but like a moth drawn to flame, his eyes zeroed in on the day he would either gain his freedom or lose his back. Just thinking about it had him tossing and turning in his bed, twisting his sheets around himself even tighter until he felt as though he were in a stranglehold.
Somehow, he needed to get his hands on eight thousand dollars. Thus far, working for Will, he’d only managed to raise a little less than half that amount. Where and how was he going to come up with the rest of the money?
He sure as hell wasn’t going to win it over the gaming tables at Pemberley. The men down at the bunkhouse were wimps, he thought sneeringly. The stakes they played were low. Not even worth the trouble getting into. He needed something bigger, some higher stakes. Then again, that was how he got into trouble in the first place.
He still remembered the night he’d been summoned. Younge hadn’t been happy that night and he’d made no bones about it, spelling out for George, in very clear and vivid terms, what happened to people who owed him money when he wasn’t happy.
Younge. George wasn’t sure if that was his first name or last name. It was the only name he was called, and it was how the rest of the world knew him. Kind of like Cher. Or Madonna. The only thing George did know was that Younge was by no means young. In fact, he was about fifty years old, with a scraggly face, and huge, bulky muscles. He also surrounded himself with thugs that were of similar ilk. George broke out into perspiration remembering the way they’d all pounded their fists against their hands when he’d walked into their secret hiding place.
“You got my money, yet?”
George tried not to hunch and shuffle his footsteps, as he faked casualness and slid his sweaty palms into his jean pockets. “Nah, not yet. But don’t you worry, Younge, I’ll have it by the deadline.”
“See that you do. I don’t like late payments.”
“No, I know you don’t.” George tried to avoid eye contact with the guy who stood behind Younge and was giving him menacing stares. He looked like he could have worked as a bouncer at some wild dance club.
“I’m glad you do,” Younge smiled, his smile not at all friendly. “Because I really do like you, George. And I gotta be honest with you. I’d be heartbroken were anything to happen to you.” George wished he could hear sincerity in Younge’s voice. “So, don’t make me have to mess up your pretty face.”
If George shivered from the threat, he didn’t show it. Instead, he blurted out, “I’ve got a couple weeks left before I have to pay you back, Younge. Why’d you call me here tonight?”
Younge shrugged and smiled that enigmatic smile of his. “After our last meeting, I was hurt when I woke up the next morning and found that you’d split in the middle of the night with your trailer and horse. I thought we were better friends than that, you and me. Yet, you didn’t even bother to say good-bye.” Younge sighed. “It really was rude of you, George. Unforgivably rude.”
George swallowed the bile that had risen to his throat. He’d been desperate that night, scared even, and he’d hoped he could make a clean escape without anyone being none the wise. He’d even returned to Lambton, never thinking that they’d be able to trace him back to Pemberley. He’d been so careful to use only cash on his way en route from the last rodeo to Pemberley Ranch. Clearly, it hadn’t worked.
“Thought I’d catch up with you on the rodeo circuit, though. Imagine my surprise when I learned that you’d quit the circuit. Thought you’d get away from me, didn’t you, boy? Thought you’d hide,” Younge sneered. “Well, I don’t like to be played like that, George!” The first came slamming down onto the plain, wooden table. George tried not to wince.
Younge pointed a warning finger in his direction. “You listen here, boy. I’ve got my eyes on you. So, don’t think you can run away from me. As you can see from tonight, I’ve got my sources and I’ll always be able to find you, no matter where you go. And just so you know how dedicated I am when it comes to my investments, I think I’m going to stay in town until your time’s up. So, any move you make, any place you visit, you’ll know that I’m there, watching you, breathing down your back, and at any time, I can walk up to you and pretend to be someone you don’t even know. After all, you don’t want your friends to really know what’s up with you, do you?”
George didn’t say anything and Younge laughed mirthlessly. He loved it when he held others in the palm of his hand. He loved knowing that he could close his hand and squeeze as tightly as he wanted to whenever he wanted. It was like having his personal voodoo doll.
“This is going to be so much fun, Georgie boy. Just you wait and see!” Younge had hooted and hollered at that, obviously amused with himself. George still cringed from the memory.
Younge had made good on his word, showing up in the oddest of places. The worst had been when Younge had shown up at the Silver Spur one night, when he’d been out, hanging with the boys. Younge had challenged him to a game of cards and he’d had to play. That’s how his debt had gone from seven thousand, five hundred to a flat eight thousand. After that, he’d made sure that he’d been in the company of Lizzy whenever he’d gone to the Silver Spur. George wasn’t sure why, but Younge seemed to have a soft spot for women.
Sure, he enjoyed their company like most men did. But, he also seemed to have some sort of a grandfatherly complex when it came to young women. So, George knew that Younge would never approach him while he was out with Lizzy. Or, at least he hadn’t yet.
George closed his eyes and touched a fist to his eye. He never should have borrowed money from the loan shark. Only, he’d been desperate at the time. One too many late nights at the card table, then thinking he’d make up his losses betting on the wins and losses at the rodeo. Without his even realizing it, his debts and finances had spiraled out of control. He was barely hanging onto the shirt on his back, and he still owned his horse only because he refused to sell it. In Texas, a cowboy without a horse was like a cobbler without the peach. Without the other half, he was nothing.
In the meantime, the clock was ticking and time was running out. He needed to find money, and fast. The only question that remained was how.