Pemberley Ranch - Jack Caldwell [94]
Judge Phillips called off the search after a few days. The rest of the town was nearly insensible with fear. They could convince themselves that the attack on the Washingtons was an isolated incident, but now that a neighbor’s daughter was missing and presumed stolen away, the people could no longer ignore what was happening. Evil was riding the range, and everyone was terrified that they or their family could be next.
Doors were locked tight, guns were kept loaded, and socializing stopped. The storekeepers were concerned over their livelihoods, as shopping for anything save the barest of necessities had ceased. Church attendance was cut in half. The streets in town belonged to the tumbleweeds, dogs, and Judge Phillips’s deputies.
As September turned into October, the Bennets lived in a sort of half-life. No matter the fears and anxieties, fields needed to be tended, animals needed to be fed, and chores needed to be done. The family went about their duties listlessly, one ear cocked to hear the approach of news that never came. There was no escape from the gloom. Mr. Bennet made it clear that none of the women were to leave the farm, and that included church. The once-a-week trips for supplies would be done by either Mr. Bennet or the farmhand, Hill, and neither would be absent from the farm at the same time.
Those trips were the only relief Beth received during this time, because there would always be a note from Charlotte brought from town to her. Not all of the family’s friends abandoned them. The Bingleys would come by as often as they could, and Reverend Tilney’s occasional visits were appreciated, especially by Mary, but they were cold comfort to Beth. She yearned for the company of a man she had once hated—a person she realized was the best man she had ever known.
For it was there in Charlotte’s letters—while the rest of town had given up on the search for Lily, even the sheriff—that Beth learned that the story from Pemberley was different. Will Darcy’s men, when they could be excused from their duties, spent their time searching every nook and cranny in the county, looking for a sign of the girl. Charlotte never said who supplied her information, but Beth had an idea who it was. No one who had witnessed the attentions paid to the girl by Richard Fitzwilliam at the Burroughses’ party back in July could fail to see the signs of a blooming romance.
Beth was thrilled at William’s constancy. He had promised he wouldn’t give up, and he hadn’t. Her heart whispered it was for her, but her better sense tamped down her hopes. Will Darcy was a great man—kind and generous—and she thought he would do the same for anyone. Could he still love her?
Beth now knew she was in love with Will Darcy. She could not pinpoint the time or place when it had happened; the feeling had come to her so gradually. Certainly, by the time she visited Pemberley she was well on her way. Perhaps watching firsthand how well he handled the twin disasters that had befallen Rosings—the lynchings and Lily’s disappearance—had proven to her that Will was not a proud and willful martinet. Rather, he was a quick-thinking and forceful leader, ready to step forward when the time called for action. Perhaps as the last of the numerous misunderstandings of his character fell away, she could do nothing but admire and love him.
Her joy was tempered with anguish. Letters from others extolling his goodness were not enough. Even though she knew he was busy and the times were dangerous, she still longed to see him again—to talk with him again, to dance in his arms again. Why did he not come to visit? Was he embarrassed to associate himself with her family? She was being nonsensical, she knew. Darcy had never been invited to their house in the past. In fact, he had been on Bennet land only