Nick frowned at himself in the glass that hung above the pitcher and basin in his room. If he hadn’t dallied for so long,hecould have been the one escorting Willa to the ball. Well, it was no matter. She couldn’t dance with only one man all night, and Nick would ensure that plenty of those dances were with him.
When he left his room, there was no sign of Willa in the hallway. He exited the hotel into the cold night. It had begun to snow again, soft, large flakes drifting from the sky, sending a hush over the usually raucous happenings of the town in the evenings. Nick smiled up at the dark sky. Christmas was in only a few days, and it seemed as if Creede was already prepared for it. It gave Nick a pleasant sort of feeling.
It was a short walk to the Tivoli, and upon entering, Nick paused to take it all in. The place was something to see at night, done up in electric lights and the decorations he and Willa had helped with a few days ago. A large Christmas tree sat bathed in candle glow in the corner, and the musicians played a lively tune. Nick hung his coat and searched the ballroom for the one person he wanted to see.
She hadn’t arrived yet, and so he joined JT and Mrs. Thomas. Just as they stepped out to dance, a vision in green caught Nick’s attention. Willa stood near the doors, her face aglow in the lights. She handed her coat to a gentleman who stood nearby, and then lifted her skirts as she moved a few steps into the ballroom. She looked about, her lips parted as she took in the room—and then her gaze landed on Nick. A smile overtook her face, and Nick warmed as he realized that smile was for him, and him alone.
The band began a polka at that moment, and the man who’d taken Willa’s coat extended a hand to her. She turned away from Nick and placed her hand in her escort’s. He led her onto the dance floor, and all Nick wanted to do was push his way through the dancers and insist on sharing this dance with Willa himself.
He gripped the edges of his jacket, setting his jaw. He had no claim on her, and he’d do well to remember that. Not to mention that JT had told him the Morgans were some of the original settlers in these parts, and very influential in town. He’d much rather make a friend of Mr. Morgan, and stealing away the woman with whom he was dancing was not the best way to accomplish that.
So instead, Nick stood, grinding his teeth and waiting impatiently for the song to end. The moment the last strain sounded, the dancers applauded the musicians and Nick made his way immediately to Willa. She was clapping and smiling brightly at her companion, a tall man who was far more good-looking than Nick wanted him to be. Willa’s cheeks were flushed with the exertion of the dance, and the lights illuminated the red in her hair. Her green dress swirled around her, shimmering in such a way that she looked like some sort of Christmas angel.
Nick drew in a breath, trying not to think about how her skin felt softer than velvet when he’d taken her hand a couple of days ago. He stepped forward.
“Good evening, Miss Rousseau.”
She turned her brilliant smile to him, and it warmed him from head to toe. How had he been so lucky, to happen upon this town at the same time as a woman so incredible as Willa Rousseau?
“Good evening, Dr. Gatewood,” she said, drawing her hands together. “Isn’t this lovely?”
“Holt Morgan.” The man standing near Willa held out his hand, and Nick shook it and introduced himself. “It’s good to have another doctor in town,” Holt said. “How are you finding Creede?”
“Very well. I’ve met some fascinating people,” Nick said with a glance at Willa. She ducked her head, and his heart soared with the thought that soon, he’d be dancing with her.
Holt’s gaze traveled between the two of them, and he lifted his eyebrows slightly. “It’s good to meet you,” he said to Nick. “I believe Miss Rousseau’s dance card is empty for the next dance.” And with that, he disappeared through the crowd on the floor as the band began to strike up the next number, a reel.
“May I?” Nick bowed to Willa.
Her smile lit up the room. “You may.”
The reel was, unfortunately, not the best choice. As he watched Willa turn and step—far away from him—Nick vowed he’d choose more wisely the rest of the evening. When the reel ended, he signed his name with a flourish on two waltzes and a polka—the most additional dances he could claim with her and not send tongues wagging.
Of course, though, this was Creede, and not Cincinnati. As he watched a young man with an unfortunately large nose lead Willa out for another reel, he wondered if such social customs mattered here. No, even if they didn’t, he couldn’t push himself into every dance with her. That wouldn’t be right, despite how watching another man take her hand made Nick feel sick and yet simmering with jealousy at the same time.
He knew he should ask one of the other ladies to dance, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Instead, he found the refreshments table, and for a small sum, purchased a tiny cake which he barely tasted.
After what seemed like an hour, the reel ended, and Nick brought Willa a cold drink before claiming her hand again for a waltz. It felt so natural to rest his hand around her waist, and as she brought her free hand to his shoulder, Nick wished this dance could last forever.
“How are you enjoying the ball, Willa?” he asked her in an effort to get his mind off the feel of her hand clasped against his.
“Oh, it’s Willa now? I thought I wasMiss Rousseauagain.” She gave him a teasing grin.
Nick laughed. “I thought that safer than showing such familiarity in front of Mr. Morgan. After all, he is supposed to be your escort this evening.”
“And yet he hasn’t put his name down for another dance with me,” Willa said without a trace of sadness.
“Or any other woman, it seems.” Nick tilted his head toward the Christmas tree, where Holt Morgan stood with his mother, looking as if he were ready to leave ten minutes ago.
“Hmm . . . Well, it seems I’ll have to fill my evening with other dance partners.”
“Any you’re looking forward to in particular?” Nick asked as they moved across the springboard floor.
“Well, there is this insufferable doctor . . .”
“Insufferable?” He gave her a look of mock indignation.
“Yes.” Willa nodded seriously. “He acts as if he knows everything. He’s really quite sure of himself.”
