At her hesitation to reply, he swallowed and let out a breath.
"Just dinner, Miss Johnston. I'll have you back home safe and sound right afterwards.” When he didn't move closer but remained by the door, it gave her a sense that he was not like other men. His gaze never left her face as he motioned to her shawl. "What do you say?"
"Very well," Camille answered, picking up her covering to wrap around her shoulders. "I do feel a bit restless. Perhaps the cool air will help."
He allowed her out first and the headed to the small, eating establishment where most of the single men in Silver City had their meals. Rarely did women go there in the evenings, unless accompanied or traveling through.
Upon entering the establishment, two things assaulted Camille: the aroma of good food and the different people pausing to look at her and Lucas.
This was a mistake. However, it was too late to go back. It would spark more tongue wagging than their presence together had already, no doubt, started.
Unlike her, Lucas moved with assurance through the room, his hand on her elbow guiding her. He greeted people with an easy confidence of a well-liked person in town and asked a couple about their son, who apparently had been ill.
The wife smiled broadly at him, explaining they were finally able to leave their home and shop for necessities since the baby was fully recovered and explained the grandmother was caring for the infant so they could come to town. She gushed at Lucas until the husband cleared his throat and reminded her that perhaps she could allow them to go and find a table.
Once they sat, a friendly woman, Florence, one of Camille's regular customers neared. "Well good evening to the both of you." She placed her hands on her wide hips. "I've got some fried chicken with biscuits and plenty of fresh butter that will make you lick your fingers off.” She let out a hearty laugh. "Or if you prefer, I also have chicken stew."
"I'll take the fried chicken," Lucas said, his eyes wide. "I'm hungry for your great cookin' Miss Florence."
The woman beamed and looked to Camille. "Well this is a nice surprise. Glad you could come and have supper tonight. That tea you recommended for a bad stomach worked wonders on the husband by the way."
Camille ordered the fried chicken as well and Florence rushed away claiming to be back in a jiff.
When Camille dared to look around the room, careful not to make eye contact, it was reassuring that the people at the surrounding tables had returned to their conversations and meals, not paying her and Lucas any mind.
Although it was hard to fully relax, Camille was able to not feel too ill at ease in the company of so many.
"It strikes me as strange that you are so uncomfortable around groups of people. Have you always been this way?" Lucas had obviously been watching her scan the surroundings.
What could she say? Camille hated having to think her words through, to ensure she only divulged what would not give any indication of her past. "I like people, enjoy company, but for years now I prefer not to be around too many at once." That was as close to the truth as she could give. Camille kept her attention on the table and her companion, not wanting to notice those around her any longer. It would make her too nervous.
"I can understand. I've spent a lot of my time alone up to the last few months since coming here. When Brogan and I were US Marshals we spent weeks at a time alone out riding. So when I got to a new town or city, it would take a bit of an adjustment."
Camille nodded. "You seem to fit in well here in Silver City. Everyone likes you and Sheriff Hage.”
"Yes." His expression became shuttered, his gaze fell and he let out a breath. "It's a nice town. I am thankful for how well the people have accepted us."
Brogan Hage was a large Scot with a reputation for being harsh. However, since arriving and taking over as sheriff, he'd been the perfect fit for the town. Although still severe, he was a fair lawman.
They continued speaking of superficial things but Camille couldn't shake the feeling Lucas was testing her. As if he were looking for something she'd say or do that would bring a clue to a puzzle.
When they'd finished the very delicious meal, they finally left the restaurant. He walked on the outside of the walkway, keeping his long strides in check as to not hurry her. "Miss Johnston, how do you feel since the fall?"
"I'm fine. You can report back to Sarah that I'm not out of sorts. The other day when she came over, I was a bit distracted and she took it to mean I was not well."
His lips curved. "She is protective of you. A good friend worries."
"She is a good friend. I don't want to cause her any unease. I'm fine. Feel good. The wound doesn't hurt at all. Once the stitches come out, I'm sure the scar will heal well."