Jack shoved his hands deeper in the pockets of his new trousers. The sun was moving, and the shadows around him were getting darker. Which was a good thing, because he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. He knew he should never have come.
All around him there was laughter and camaraderie. It was something he had been very conscious of from the moment he’d arrived. Just like now, alone under this tree, he was very conscious of being apart from it all. The not-belonging was as old as he was, but the way he was feeling it today had never been so new.
Some of the women were dancing to a fiddler and a harmonica player. Candice had been dancing in McGraw’s arms not too long ago, just the way he’d imagined, with laughter on her face, looking impossibly beautiful. The jealousy he’d felt then, and the jealousy he was feeling now, was like a clamp around his chest.
Another man had joined her and McGraw, and they were all sharing a blanket and the shade of a tree. Someone else, a third man, came up to her and asked her something—for a dance? She gave him a wonderful smile while declining. He imagined how it would feel to be on the receiving end of that smile. Then he grew angry with himself for even thinking it, for doing this to himself, for being such a fool as to buy all these clothes and using the last of his cash. But he didn’t push away from the tree.
She was looking at him.
Jack was very much aware of his heart fluttering when she excused herself from her admirers and started walking toward him. Perspiration gathered under the crown of his hat and beneath his arms. She couldn’t be coming this way. She was looking at the ground, stopping to talk to a couple. Laughing, darting him a glance, and breaking free. Shewascoming to him. But it took her a small eternity.
“Hello … Mr. Savage.”
He tried to sound casual. It was hard, when he couldn’t even swallow. “Miss Candice.”
She stared at him—big navy eyes that he fell into. He shifted. “You look beautiful today.”
She blushed. “It’s just mourning gray.”
“I know.”
“I … I don’t know if you should be here.”
He felt anger, and his tone was sarcastic. “Don’t worry—I’m keeping my distance.Youshouldn’t behere.”
She was wringing her hands. “I know, but …”
“But what?”
“You don’t have anyone to talk to. You haven’t even taken any food.”
“Don’t pity me.”
“I’m not!” Her eyes flashed. But, oh, she did—in a different way than she’d ever felt pity before. She longed to hold his face and smooth the lines of despair away, and make him smile. Just once, for a short time. She hadn’t been able to bear seeing him standing so alone beneath the tree.
He relaxed. She smiled, but he didn’t return it. His eyes searched hers unwaveringly. It made her skin tingle and flush. “Would you—would you like me to get you some food?”
“I’ve eaten.” Then he added, “Thank you.”
Candice bit her lip. The fiddler was playing, and they were all talked out. But she didn’t want to leave him, not just yet. They stood in an awkward silence for a few minutes more.
“You’re a good dancer,” Jack said unexpectedly His mind was on McGraw. He wanted to ask her what their relationship was.
She smiled radiantly. “Do you want to dance?”
He went stiff. His heart was beating too hard. For a minute he couldn’t say a thing. Then: “I don’t know how.”
Her face fell, but only for a moment. She reached out and took his hand. “I’ll teach you,” she said.
When he didn’t answer she moved closer, taking one of his hands and putting it on her tiny waist. She took his other hand in hers. Jack was assaulted by the fragrance of her, the feel and closeness of her. It was almost too much.
“It’s very easy,” she said, smiling.
“I might step on your feet.”
“I don’t mind. I hope those handsome new boots don’t hurt your toes.”
“They don’t,” he lied. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered—except her.
