five men — Hawk, Rand, and three others. But Bethany had eyes only for Hawk. How handsome he looked in his white shirt and dark trousers.
Rand said something to him, and he nodded as his gaze traveled the room, stopping upon Bethany. Her heart skipped a beat, then raced again as he turned away.
Rand walked toward Bethany and Ingrid, whisking his hat from his head as he drew near. He came to a halt in front of Ingrid. “Evenin’, Miss Johnson.”
“Good evening, Mr. Howard.”
“Evenin’, Miss Silverton.”
“Good evening.”
He repeated the greeting to her father, but when he looked at Vince, his good humor disappeared. “Richards.”
“Howard.”
It was obvious the two men felt a mutual dislike.
Rand looked at Ingrid again, and his smile returned. “Care to join me for a glass of punch, Miss Johnson?”
“Thank you. I would like that very much.”
He offered his arm and escorted her away.
Bethany looked toward the entrance, hoping Hawk might follow the example of his friend. Instead, she saw that he and the other cowboys had moved away from the door and now leaned against the wall of the barn, visiting among themselves. He didn’t even glance her way.
The musicians struck up a lively tune, and soon the center of the barn was filled with dancing couples, Ingrid and Rand among them.
Vince turned from her father and held a hand toward Bethany. “May I have the pleasure of this dance, Miss Silverton?”
She didn’t want to dance with him, but neither did she want to remain standing with her parents. Perhaps it would be good for Hawk to know others desired her company, even if he didn’t.
“Thank you, Mr. Richards. I’d be delighted.”
Hawk watched Bethany. He hadn’t stopped watching her since he arrived. There was no lovelier woman in the room, no one else to command his attention. Not that he was glad of it.
When Vince Richards walked her to the dance floor, he felt his jaw clench. He didn’t like seeing that man put his hand on the small of her back. He was a snake. A wealthy one in fine clothes, but a snake all the same.
It wasn’t his concern, of course. She could dance with anyone she chose. Still —
“Evening, Hawk.” Fred Eberlie, owner of Sweetwater’s mercantile, stepped up beside him. “I got in those supplies you were waiting on.”
He pulled his gaze away from the couple on the dance floor. “That’s good. I’ll bring the wagon for them tomorrow.”
“We don’t often see you at these shindigs.”
“Not often.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Bethany whirl past him, her skirt flaring out almost far enough for him to touch it. Against his will, his gaze followed her.
“Have you met the reverend and his family?” Fred asked. “I’d be glad to introduce you.”
“I’ve met them.”
“They’re nice folks. Guess you heard we’ll be building us a church now. Can’t keep meeting in a tent come winter.”
“Guess not.”
“Can we count on you and your men to give us a hand when it’s time?”
Hawk nodded as he watched Vince escort Bethany back to her father. “Sure, Fred. We’ll all help.”
Bethany danced twice with Vince Richards, three times with her father, and one dance each with four young men whose names she forgot as soon as they walked away. And still Hawk stood in that dim corner of the barn. What on earth was wrong with him? Was he afraid? Didn’t he know how to dance?
Squaring her shoulders, she slipped away from several women who were visiting near the refreshment table. She didn’t allow herself to consider what her parents would think of her actions. As she approached Hawk, he turned his head and their gazes met. In a fluid motion, he pushed off the wall, straightening to his full height. She couldn’t tell if he was pleased or annoyed to see her. Blood pounded in her temples and her mouth went dry.
“Hello, Mr. Chandler.”
“Miss Silverton.”
“I’m glad you came tonight. Are you having a pleasant time?”
He