Running Wild (20 page)

“No ma’am,” he said, setting down, “just an admirer of
beauty.” With that, the music started up. Huntington and Star left to dance.
Nick’s eyes followed them around the room—smiling, flirting, laughing. He
didn’t want to watch; he sure didn’t want to compare Huntington’s dancing with
his, but he couldn’t help it. Huntington kindled a competitive fire in him. He
didn’t like the man, who he pegged as a stuck-up dandy, lookin’ down his nose
at everybody. He less liked the way he looked at Star and talked to Star, and
right now, he didn’t like the way he danced with her, either. He was holding
her too close—

“It’s hard loving them, isn’t it?” Jess interrupted his
thoughts. “The Montgomerys, I mean.”

He turned. Jess was doing the same as him, only her eyes
were following Lee and Hannah Thompson instead. Jess’s face was drawn and her
eyes glistened as if holding back tears. Women in the family way could be
emotional, but he didn’t figure that was all of it. Lee and Jess were from
different walks of life and combining them couldn’t be easy.

Kinda like Star and him.

Did
he love her? Could he love a gadabout like her?
She sure fascinated him, but for all that she went the whole hog when it came
to her cause, by all appearances—by all anecdotes, too—she had a shallow heart.
For most of her life she’d run wild and roughshod over any man who had the poor
sense to care for her. No, he couldn’t love her. Loving Star Montgomery would
be a fool’s errand. “Don’t know about love,” he said slowly. “But tamin’ ’em .
. . reckon that’s well-nigh impossible.”

She sighed and flashed him a mirthless smile. “I guess
‘tame’ works as well. They’re a wild bunch under all the manners and
sophistication. They do have
that
down pat,” she said bitterly.

“They ooze sophistication,” Nick said dryly. “Ward and Port
seem pretty cool, though. Probably the family’s saving grace.”

“Port, maybe, but don’t be so sure about Ward. He may hold
himself on a short leash, but at heart Ward has as much interest in being tamed
as does a wolf. It is no accident that he married a woman like Morgan.”

Maybe so. Over the last weeks, he’d learned that Morgan and
Ward not only tolerated Star’s obsession with her cause, they encouraged it.
Truth was, Morgan, in the safety of the family circle, could get pretty fired
up, which seemed to tickle Ward. Maybe they weren’t “tame” either. They just
hid it better than Star did her wild side. Had Star shown that side to
Huntington, or those other men? Or was he the only one who knew that those eyes
could darken with excitement over something as fearsome as a rabid cougar?

“He’s got a crush on her, you know. Del does,” Jess pointed
out gently.

“Yeah, Lee told me. Don’t figure why he went and married
Jane if that’s the case.”

“Well, I suppose if you put aside Star’s interest in women’s
reform—”

“Don’t think you can,” he interrupted. “She’d hit the roof.”

Jess flashed a quick, tense smile. “Yes, she would. Anyhow,
for all that he loves Star, Del despises the movement. He says women are hard
enough to control without giving us more power. And Jane proves the point, I
suppose. She’s as high-strung as Star.”

Nick shook his head. “Don’t think I’d call Star high-strung.
Makes her sound inclined to high strikes.”

Jess laughed, and for the first time gave him a genuine
smile, the kind that could knock a man’s socks off. He grinned back, relieved
to see amusement in her eyes at last. He liked Jess. For all her beauty, she
was a down to earth, small-town girl. “Yes, you’re absolutely right! Star would
laugh herself into a grave before falling into hysterics.”

“She would. Maybe intense is a better word.”

Jess’s eyes narrowed as she deliberated. “Or passionate.
About everything, from her movement to sports, to board games.”

“Excepting for her fiancés.”

“True. Anyhow, it’s likely that Del’s feelings for Star are
one of the reasons their marriage is so difficult.”

“That,” Lee said, from behind Nick, “and the fact that they
can’t resist irritating the hell out of each other.”

“Lee,” Nick said, turning his chair. “Thought you were
dancin’.”

“I excused myself by mentioning that Jess is feeling under
the weather. Wouldn’t mind looking under the weather for me would you,
sweetheart? Use all that prime acting experience and all?” he asked, pulling a
chair over to join them.

“Wouldn’t that be considered bad manners?” she asked coolly.

Lee’s expression tightened. “Not when it excuses your
husband from dancing with a woman who insists upon treading on his toes. I’m
sure there’s a section in those etiquette books about that,” he said cheerfully,
although anger sparked in his eyes.

Frustrated amusement crossed Jess’s face, and Nick waited
for her to snap back with her razor-sharp wit. Instead, she set her jaw and
answered woodenly, “I expect good manners would require a man to grin and bear
it.”

Damn. Nick had danced with Miz Thompson earlier in the
evening. She was a mighty fine dancer. Miz Thompson hadn’t stepped on Lee’s
toes, and it was as clear as a bell that he’d excused himself to be with his
wife, even though spending much time with a wife in public was against
Society’s long list of rules. Wasn’t so clear to Jess, though.

“Fair enough,” Lee answered gruffly. “Next time I’ll
continue dancing. Perhaps by and by I’ll develop enough calluses that I won’t
feel the pain. And so, Nick, how are you enjoying your first ball?”

“It’s big,” Nick answered as the music ended. Out of the
corner of his eye, Nick saw Huntington escort Star across the room to dance
with Ambrose Thompson, Hannah’s brother, and one of Star’s former fiancés.
Ambrose was a tall, good-looking man, blond haired with deep-set dark eyes that
Melinda would’ve declared hid the poetry of the soul or some such hogwash.
Those eyes spent an awful lot of time on Star. “Kinda crowded, too, though the
drink’s better.”

Lee laughed, which Nick noted, seemed to relax Jess. “Don’t
miss the rotgut, then?”

“No sir. The champagne rules over that by a long chalk.”

“Ah, wait until you partake of supper! How many more dances,
Jess, two? Hand me your ball card, will you? Are you hungry, sweetheart? You
must be. Perhaps we’ll sneak in early.”

With an amused twitch of her lips, Jess handed him the card.
“You don’t intend to play by those rules at this ball either, Lee?”

He grinned and sat back. “No, I don’t. Moreover, I’m not
required to, for we are all but cousins to the Hathaways and, therefore, need
not play by the rules. Besides, one must excuse a cowboy like Nick, here, for a
lapse in manners. Needs feedin’ on a regular basis, he does,” Lee drawled.
“Soes I reckon we oughta mosey on in afore all the vittles is et up and Nick
just whittles away ta nuthin’.”

Jess and Nick laughed. “And how!” Nick said.

Tension temporarily dispelled, Jess and Lee spent the next
several minutes entertaining Nick with their usual rapid-fire exchange of wit.
When the dance ended, Lee rose, offering Jess his elbow. “And that, sweetheart,
is equivalent to the dinner bell ringing at the Bar M. Let us move in a swift,
yet stealthy manner toward the supper room.”

“You’re all standing,” Star’s voice came from Nick’s left.
“Am I correct in assuming that my ne’er do well brother is mounting an early
attack upon the supper room?” Nick rose and stepped back to include her in the
group, along with Huntington, who’d hooked his arm in Star’s once again. And
Thompson, who glared at Huntington. Star dropped Del’s arm, though, which
seemed to mollify Thompson.

“What a splendid idea,” Jane Huntington said as she, too,
joined the group, her arm linked with a man Nick had yet to meet. “I must
confess, I am famished. Has everyone met Simon Price? He’s from Chicago, but
you Montgomerys might know his grandmother, who’s from Boston. Mrs.
Farnsworth.”

“So much for stealth,” Jess said under her breath. Lee
laughed and leaned over to whisper something in her ear.

“Can’t say I have,” Nick said, offering his hand. A man of
average height, Price boasted a carefully groomed set of mutton chop whiskers
and pomaded brown hair. “Nicholas McGraw.”

“Met a few times. Nice to see you again, Price,” Lee said.

“And you, Montgomery. Mr. McGraw, I am honored to make your
acquaintance at long last. A capital fellow I have been told,” Price said. Nick
noted that he seemed ill at ease, although by outward appearances he surely
belonged here. He had the right speech, the right manners and the right
clothing.

“Much obliged to you, sir,” Nick said. “Not that I deserve
the kind words. Just a Colorado rancher is all.”

“Of a large and prosperous ranch, so I have heard. It is a
pleasure to have you among us.” His voice was a mite high for a man, and kinda
scraped on Nick’s nerves. Most likely he thought it was genteel. Strange how
these folk equated “feminine” with “genteel.”

“He’s entertaining, at any rate,” Lee said. “Now, if we’re
all agreed, shall we proceed to supper? Nick isn’t used to all this exercise,
you know. Better feed him before he faints dead away.”

“Plumb tuckered out, I am,” Nick agreed.

“Why then,” Star said, with a laugh, “I suppose as long as
we are storming the supper room for the sake of our honored guest’s good
health, we shan’t incur censure. Nicholas, my dear honored guest, if you would
be so obliging as to escort me into the supper room, I shall explain to you how
this all works.”

“Glad to, ma’am,” he said taking her arm. It was unusually
hard. Muscle, from tennis and rowing which he found oddly appealing. “Reckon I
already know how to eat, though.”

“Why I reckon you do!” Star gurgled as they followed Lee to
a pair of white double doors at the back of the room, blending in with the gold
flocked wallpaper. “But do you know which are the best foods for dancing? That
is my concern.” The band struck up again, and dancers took positions on the
floor. Several older folk glowered at them disapprovingly. “We must be
careful,” she continued, “for you are such a big, sturdy man. If you should you
faint, you’ll take me down with you.”

The thought of her falling down on top of him, her soft body
pressing against him set his mind off along trails better not traveled at a
ball. Or ever.

Lee opened one of the doors just enough for them all to slip
through. Nick glanced around, eyes wide in wonder. Grandly decorated in shades
of pink and blue, the supper room was half the size of the ballroom. Sparkling
chandeliers rained light down upon small tables set with linen and crystal.
Food was laid out on long tables running down the middle of the room: a
room-length array of all kinds of delicacies. Melinda would’ve swooned in
delight, he thought with a touch of homesickness. There was duck and ices,
roast beef and pastries, peas and carrots, and celery laid out in special silver
containers. Everything, it seemed, had its own sauce or gravy. There were so
many varieties of food that if Nick tasted every one, he’d be full ‘til
Christmas. As they helped themselves, Star kept up a steady flow of
conversation, part flirtation, part amused self-deprecation at the lengths she
and her “set” went to impress each other. The conversation was uniquely Star,
which somehow eased his homesickness.

After fetching their supper, the group pulled two tables
together to accommodate all of them. They were starting to eat when the doors
opened wide and everybody else filed in.

“Haven’t seen the Hathaways all night,” Thompson said,
watching the crowd. “Other than the elders, that is.”

Lee shrugged. “Michael’s due for a visit, but business in
Frisco delayed him. Vi ’n Cy are staying out of trouble, or anything else
interesting, in England this summer. Vi’s visiting Drew and his new wife, while
Cy tours Oxford.”

Nick flashed a befuddled grin at Star. “Viansi?”

She let loose the deep, gurgling laugh that always touched
his funny bone. “Yes, Viola and Cyrus. Twins. We always called them Vi ’n Cy.
Sometimes sigh, as in a breath, depending upon how irritating Vi was being at
the time.”

“On the surface,” Huntington said, “that’s the most
interesting thing about them. Uncle Ro is constantly lording his children’s
pristine conduct over Father and Uncle Ward. If they knew the truth—”

“Which we shall keep within the family circle,” Jane
interrupted primly. “I should tell you, Mr. McGraw, that Mr. Price grew up out
West like you, even though his mother is from Boston.”

Huntington scowled at her, and then turned to wave down a
waiter walking by with a tray of filled crystal goblets. Out of the corner of
his eye, Nick saw Lee, on his right, smirk. “That so?” Nick asked. Price sure
didn’t look like he was from the West. “Whereabouts?”

“Chicago, which is not the West, to be sure,” Price said.
“As Mrs. Huntington pointed out, my grandmother lives in Boston, and I spent
many summers with her in Nahant.”

“And naturally attended Harvard,” Jane added.

“Highly overrated,” Huntington interjected, as he helped the
waiter pass around the goblets. The yellow liquid fizzled. Champagne, Nick
guessed. “Now the University of Pennsylvania, that’s a college. Jane, my dear,
I’ve scarcely seen you all evening. Have you been enjoying yourself?”

“Why, of course,” she said, taking a glass from him. “The
Hathaways are known for their balls, are they not?”

“Very kind of you sir,” Huntington said to the waiter, whose
tray was now empty. He tucked something into his palm and the waiter left.
Huntington sat next to Jess. “Why yes, Jane, perhaps
here
the Hathaways
are known for their balls, in this little New England backwater, but for the
best parties and balls one, must, of course, travel to Philadelphia.”

“Philadelphia?” Thompson said with a derisive laugh. “No
sir. True Society resides in New York.”