Pemberley Ranch - Jack Caldwell [29]
Charlotte stepped onto the porch. “Yes, I heard that y’all were leaving early.”
Fitz nodded. “Well… it’s become a bit of a tradition for me to buy somethin’ for Miss Darcy after I get to Abilene. Nothin’ big, you understand, just a trinket or two for remembrance.” He smiled as he fidgeted with his hat. “She’s like another little sister to me, and it pleases her no end.”
“That’s very nice.”
Fitz studied his boots. “Yeah, well… I was thinkin’… maybe I could… uh…”
Charlotte tilted her head, not sure what he was talking about. “Yes?”
He peeked shyly at her. “Bring back somethin’ for you.”
Her jaw dropped. “Me?” she whispered.
In the limited light, Fitz’s expression was hardly visible, but the stammer in his voice gave away his lack of composure. “Uh, yeah. There ain’t much pretty things ’round here for a lady. I’ve been thinkin’, and seeing as you got no brothers to buy you stuff like that at the end of a drive, I thought that maybe… I could.”
Charlotte Lucas was the only daughter of a widowed sheriff. That alone put off most would-be suitors. On top of the situation at home, Charlotte was a woman who would be considered handsome by only her most charitable acquaintances and plain by the world in general. She had never had an admirer, much less a sweetheart, and at twenty-five, she expected nothing more than being the town spinster, taking care of her father in his dotage.
She wasn’t blind or uninterested in the male sex. Occasionally, Charlotte would allow herself to dream of a life with a kind and handsome man with children at her feet, if only she looked more like Jane or Beth. If asked, of the men in town, she liked Richard Fitzwilliam. The good-looking cowboy always had a kind word for her since he came to town. He had been one of the fixtures in her dreams. But dreams never came true for the likes of Charlotte Lucas.
Therefore, it was no wonder that Fitz’s astonishing words sent a shock through her. She grew hot and cold at the same time. Unconsciously, she pulled her wrap more tightly about her. “What kind of… pretty things?”
Fitz looked everywhere but at her. “Oh, I don’t know. Things you can’t get ’round here, I suppose. Umm… a piece of lace or a figurine. Maybe some o’ that fancy perfume that smells of flowers.” He looked up. “Decent things—I wouldn’t buy you anything not decent. That wouldn’t be right.”
Charlotte bit her lip. “No, of course not.”
The corner of his lip turned up. “Have to be pretty, though.”
Her mouth was dry. “Why?”
“Pretty girls need pretty things.”
Silence hung between them. “You think I’m pretty?”
Fitz’s eyes grew dark as he licked his lips. Time seemed to stand still as she awaited his response. He took a half step closer, his smile growing a bit.
Another voice called out from the darkness. “Charlotte, who are you talking to? Oh—Fitzwilliam. What can I do for you?”
The two jumped away from each other as Sheriff Lucas reached the porch, Charlotte unable to hide her flushed expression. The sheriff, scowling, eyed his daughter closely.
“Get yourself inside, girl.”
“Paw, we weren’t doing anything,” Charlotte protested. “Fitz was just visiting.”
“I said, get inside,” Lucas growled. “We’ll talk later.”
Embarrassed, Charlotte nodded at Fitz. “Good night,” she managed before fleeing inside. Sheriff Lucas then turned to the cowhand.
“Unless you’ve got business with me, you best be goin’,” Lucas said coldly.
Fitz straightened up in indignation. “Sheriff, we weren’t doin’ anything wrong. I just came by to call on Miss Charlotte, respectful like.”
“Yeah, when I wasn’t at home.”
“That wasn’t my intention. I’d be glad to come by anytime you like. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Miss Charlotte’s reputation.”
Lucas got between Fitz and his door, his hands on his hips. “What are your intentions?”
Fitz flushed. “I’m an honorable man; you know that.