Did she hear that right?
But Stone wasn’t done.Not when he was leaning in, like he had a secret to share.‘But for what it’s worth, Duchess… in that gown, you’re the belle of the ball.’
‘Behave.’
‘I try.’He gave a shrug, but his eyes held steady.‘Just know, you’re like a sister to me.Annoying, sharp as hell—but family.And onlyweget to call you Duchess.’
The music stopped, leaving them standing in the quiet.
Stone offered his arm, gentleman-like.‘Come on, I’ll take you back.And not to offend your delicate sensibilities—but you do look pretty tonight.You make the Stock Squad look good, when that’s normally my job.’
He escorted her back, grinning as if he hadn’t just spun her a little sideways.
‘Everything okay?’Porter asked quietly, as she sat beside him.
‘Um, yeah.’
‘Stone was a gentleman, right?’The tone in Porter’s voice was almost territorial, defensive even.‘He’d wanna be or I’ll—’
She put her hand on his arm to stop him from moving.‘Stone was a perfect gentleman.In fact, he apologised for the name Duchess, even if I know he’s still going to use it.’
‘Tanisha told me she’d love that nickname—Duchess.’Porter then leaned closer and said, ‘You should own it, because in that gown, tonight, you’re definitely royalty, Montrose.’His eyes travelled over her with admiration, only for him to shut it down.‘Gotta see a man about his dingo.’And he was gone, just like that.
She watched Porter move to the bar, where a group of men had gathered.He shook hands, patted backs, and chatted like he belonged.
Then she noticed him crouching down to talk to a few of the older stockmen in walkers.She recognised a few of the silver-haired gentlemen from not only the livestock auction, but from the Lodge where she’d met Tilly.
Tonight, almost every table had one or two Lodge residents as their guests.Bree was at a table with a very fine-looking gene pool of men.Her husband, the infamous Ryder Riggs—well, he had Amara looking at him twice—andhis brothers.
At their table was a petite woman swallowed by a red gown with more drama than a debutante.It was like the gown was alive the way it moved on the lady who had to be in her eighties.She walked with a limp and leaned on a cane with a gorgeous duck-shaped handle that reminded Amara of Tilly’s long cane.
But she wasn’t sidelined.In fact, everyone took a turn at leading the woman-in-red across the dance floor.
But it wasn’t just that.Lots of others had made space for the retired stockmen, the ones in walkers and wheelchairs to sit at their table.And how the other locals all made that effort to stop for a chat, as if they still belonged.
Again, that layer of community spirit somehow made this town all the more precious.No matter the age, they were still included, still part of the industry that made up a big part of this town.
Porter was right, and so was Stone.She needed to lighten up and make more of an effort to get to know the townspeople.They didn’t know who she was—with no clue about her past.All they saw was who she was now, like her life had only started the day she’d set foot in Elsie Creek.And maybe, for them, that was all that mattered.
She pushed up from the table and headed to the far side where the publican, Samantha, sat with some of her staff.‘Evening all.’
‘There’s the ex-tenant.We miss you, kid.’It was Billy, the white-haired yardie, habitually lifting his trouser suspender straps higher on his shoulders.
‘Thank you.’In a way, she missed them, too.‘I was wondering if you’d like to dance with me, Billy?’
‘Struth.’His jaw dropped a bit, while Samantha gave a knowing nod, raising her glass to Amara in a silent salute.
‘I’d be honoured.’Billy removed his fedora, wiped down his shirt, then held out his elbow and proudly escorted Amara to the dance floor.
Then it was Craig’s turn.He turned out to be a remarkably good dancer and the perfect gentleman, before escorting Amara back to their table, where she’d been seated beside Craig’s wife, Izzy, the lawyer, with Porter on her other side.
Throughout the evening, Porter had been polite, taking the time to introduce her to people, and a few times she’d forgotten it was a job.It felt more like a social outing.Porter was good at this, always making sure she was comfortable.
But he never asked her to dance, and he was colder than normal.
Gone were his usual smart remarks, always ensuring he wasn’t sitting too close to touch her.
Good.They had a job to do.
