“Two steps and a skip,” Candice said. “Follow me. One-two-skip!”
He was worse than a lumbering ox, filled with self-consciousness and unable to think about much, other than her. He took two steps and a skip; she laughed. It wasn’t laughter at his effort, but a happy tinkle of sound. One, two, skip … one, two, skip … Jack kept his eyes on his feet.
“You’re doing wonderfully,” Candice said, looking at his brow as he bent his head to watch his steps. “But you don’t need to look at your feet. Look at me.”
He did.
And he promptly stepped on her foot.
“Oh!”
“I’m sorry,” he said, freezing and feeling like a fool.
“No, no, you won’t get out of it that easily,” she said, urging him back into the dance. “One, two, skip!”
He followed her lead perfectly for two sets, and she laughed, watching the small area of exposed skin on his throat, between the bandana and the shirt. He looked up suddenly, smiling. Candice stared.
It was the first time she’d ever seen him smile, and it was devastating.
“Is something wrong?” His smile was gone.
“No, I—” She stopped when she saw him look over her shoulder. He dropped her hands and stepped to the side, away from her. Candice turned to see Mark pell-melling his way toward them, his face red with fury, and McGraw behind him—trailed by Luke and a few other men. Her heart constricted.
“I’ll kill him!” Mark shouted, breaking into a run.
Without thinking, Candice leapt between them, her hands coming up to Mark’s chest. He was so angry he threw her violently off, and she sprawled onto her face in the dust. That was all Jack needed.
Before Mark could even haul off with a punch, Jack landed a bone-cracking right to his jaw—sending him reeling backward onto the ground. He stood, waiting. Candice struggled to her feet, her petticoats twisted and entangled, hampering her. “No! Stop it! Please!”
Mark got to his feet slowly, murderously.
Luke grabbed him from behind and spun him away. “Get over here, Candice,” he ordered.
His tone was so hard and authoritative, she moved to him immediately. He pulled her behind him and to the side. “Luke, we were only—”
“I’ve seen, everyone’s seen,” Luke said calmly. “Mister, I think you’d better get on that horse and ride out.”
“What’s going on?” Someone was whispering amid a flurry of excited murmurs. Candice looked around, stunned and dismayed to see that everyone had gathered around.
“Candice and the breed,” someone said.
Candice went red and looked at Jack. He was expressionless. But the crowd was changing fast, the sounds going from stunned to angry. Someone shouted, “He touched her, he dies!”
“Yeah!” roared a few men, McGraw among them.
Candice turned. “No! No—we were only dancing—”
“Dancing?” Henderson shouted incredulously. “You’d dance with him?”
Candice lifted her chin.
“Everyone calm down,” her father said, stepping beside Luke. He turned to Jack. “Ride on, boy. Now.
Candice gnawed her knuckles, watching as Jack turned, not even looking at her, and strode away. She watched him mount the stallion. When she looked back it was without hearing the heated arguments between her father and some of the other men. Finally everyone dispersed, a few men vowing to teach him a lesson if he ever tried to come around again. Candice was precariously close to tears.
“You all right?” Luke asked with concern, his voice low.
She nodded, her eyes filling.
