Drew (The Cowboys) (22 page)

“I don’t have money for that kind of foolishness,” the farmer said. “Nor the time,” he added.

“You don’t have to worry about the money. I’ll leave word at the gate that you’re to get in free.”

“I wouldn’t think of going to a fancy show and leaving the wife at home. Or the children.”

Drew knew Cole realized they were being squeezed, but his smile never faltered. “And how many children would you be bringing?”

The man rubbed his chin as though thinking hard. “Would thirteen be too many?”

Drew saw Cole choke back an appreciative chuckle. “Thirteen is fine, as long as no more than two of them are older than you.”

The farmer grinned. “Just one.”

“What name do I give the ticket taker?” Cole asked.

“Warner,” the farmer answered. “Jim Warner and family.”

“Done,” Cole said. “The show starts at three o’clock. Don’t be late, or you won’t get the best seats.”

“I’ll remember,” the farmer said. He turned his gaze to his goat, which was cavorting about the field.

“I don’t know if old Billy will ever be the same,” he mused. “I hope he has enough energy to breed the rest of the nannies.”

Drew recognized an effort to squeeze more blood from the turnip, and decided enough was enough. “Maybe you ought to chase him about the field once in a while to get his blood going,” she said. “It might make him feel younger in a lot of ways.”

As though to prove her point, the billy showed a sudden and very pointed interest in a nanny. Drew couldn’t hold it back any longer. She started laughing, and Cole joined in. After only a slight hesitation, the farmer laughed as well.

“Looks like we’ve done you a favor,” Cole said.

“I’d rather you didn’t do me any more.”

“I think I can safely promise that,” Cole said. “We need to get back, or we’ll be late.”

“Don’t forget the passes,” the farmer reminded him.

“I won’t,” Cole assured him.

He and Drew jumped their horses back onto the road.

“How dare you make up such an absurd story about me,” Drew said once they were on their way back to town. “You made me look like an idiot.”

“Neither one of us looked particularly intelligent. It’s a safe bet he saw us roping those fence posts. I was hoping he’d let us go because he thought we were crazy.”

“He knew you were lying.”

“That was the other choice. Make him laugh so he wouldn’t take it too seriously.”

“And gouge you for free admission to the show.”

“For him and every one of his relatives if I’m any judge.”

“I expect so. What are you going to say to Earl?”

“Nothing unless asked.”

“What were you going to do if he had taken it seriously.”

“Sacrifice you and run away as fast as I could.”

They both laughed, but she knew he wouldn’t have done any such thing. He’d come to her rescue with that silly story without a moment’s hesitation. He had a sense of honor behind that lazy front. Though nothing they’d done was very difficult, he clearly knew how to handle a horse and rope. What had he really been doing in Texas?

Neither surprise nor curiosity was her strongest feeling. Rather a strange warmth spread through her. She knew it had to do with Cole. She appreciated his coming to her aid so quickly. She also liked the fact he wasn’t as useless as he pretended to be. But most surprising of all, she’d laughed.

Drew had never laughed much. Her family often teased her by calling her old sobersides, but she rarely saw anything funny in the things her brothers did. Will regularly reduced their family to hysterics, but he made Drew want to shake him and tell him not to be a fool. Which she had done. Many times. Jake would laugh and say he was a hopeless case. Isabelle would ring a peal over his head, then end up cooking his favorite dessert. That made Drew madder than ever.

She wouldn’t have been able to put up with Jake’s restriction of having at least one brother work in the show with her if Zeke and Hawk hadn’t been the choices. They were as serious as she. In fact, she couldn’t remember more than a dozen times either one of them had smiled in nearly ten years. Until this afternoon, that had suited her just fine.

She had absolutely no reason to have laughed. She and Cole had been caught doing something childish. She’d have scolded Will for at least a week, reminded him of it for months, but all she had done was laugh. What was worse, she
still
wanted to laugh.

“I don’t think your company’s good for me,” she said to Cole. The dratted man smiled at her. She had to fight to keep from smiling back at him. “I’ve been riding through the countryside of nearly a dozen states, and never had a minute’s trouble. I ride with you one afternoon, and I’m roping goats.”

“It does sound ominous when stated like that.”

She could see the amusement in his eyes. She struggled to remain serious.

“You forgot to mention the fence posts,” he said. “And practically running down that hay wagon. Did you see the driver’s eyes? I thought they were going to pop out of his head.”

A bubble of laugher formed deep inside her. “He did look rather startled.”

“Not half as startled as when we galloped around him.”

“I didn’t look back.”

“His cheeks turned bright red. He looked like he’d put his face too close to the fire.”

The bubble of laughter surged a few inches closer to escape.

“But you should have seen him when you roped that fence post.”

“What did he do?”

“He whipped his horses into a lather, and the hay wagon went off down the road, shaking like a fat lady in wide skirts.”

That was too much for Drew. The bubble escaped, and she gave up the fight “You made that up,” she accused as soon as she recovered her speech.

“You weren’t looking. You can’t know.”

“But I know you, Cole Benton. You can tell the most incredible lies with a straight face. I can’t believe a word you say.”

“Not a word?”

“Not even a little one.”

“Good. I was about to say you’re enchanting when you laugh.”

Chapter Thirteen

All desire to laugh left Drew. Nobody had ever called her enchanting. Her brothers would have hooted if anyone had. She was a good hand, a stalwart friend, a loyal sister, a severely honest critic, a dependable worker, but no one had ever called her enchanting. Come to think of it, no one had called her pretty before Cole. It was a good thing she knew he was a liar. As for liking her, that didn’t even warrant consideration.

“If I was to start believing things like that, I’d be worse than a tenderfoot at a horse sale,” she said.

“You don’t like being compared to a tenderfoot, do you?”

She didn’t like the look he gave her, as though he knew something about her she didn’t. “I can do nearly anything as well as a man. Some things a lot better.”

“You’re proud of that, aren’t you?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“No reason.”

His look said something else would have been a better answer. “You probably think a woman should sit around in pink dresses, looking helpless, and hanging on every word out of some man’s mouth.”

His spontaneous laughter wasn’t the response she’d anticipated.

“Heaven preserve me from women like that. I’ve seen enough to last a lifetime.”

“Then what do you like? Don’t answer that,” she said quickly, horrified she’d asked such a question.

“Why not?”

“When I decided I didn’t want to marry, I realized it didn’t matter what kind of women men preferred.”

“You never have told me why you decided not to marry.”

“You never asked.”

“I’m asking now.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Probably, but you brought it up. It’s rude not to explain.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being rude, especially when people want to know things you don’t want them to know.”

“You don’t ever explain yourself to people?”

“No.”

“That must leave you few friends.”

“I don’t need friends. I’ve got plenty of family.”

Friends would just be a responsibility. She intended to devote all her energy to her ranch. She was determined to be just as successful as Jake.

“Then you’d better tell all your old people who’re planning to retire to your ranch,” Cole said. “I don’t think they’re the type to turn into top hands.”

“They’re not my old people. I’m just trying to help them save up some money so they’ll have something to live on when they’re too old to work.”

“So you told them they could come live on your ranch.”

Damn! Why did he have to know so much about her? He must have been questioning everybody he met.

“I told Myrtle she could come. I suppose some of the others thought they could come, too.” That was bending the truth, but he didn’t have to know that. “I don’t expect any of them would want to live in Texas. It’s too hot”

“It’s not hot in the Hill Country. I found it very pleasant when I rode through.”

Either Cole Benton knew too much, or he could make stuff up faster than she could figure out whether or not he was telling the truth.

“Why should you care what I do?” she asked.

“I didn’t say I cared. I’m just curious.”

The hurt was unexpected. She didn’t want him to care very much, but she did want him to care a little. She liked him despite herself. It was only fair that he like her in return.

She didn’t want to get into a philosophical argument with him. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I think it’s a crime for a lovely young woman who obviously cares a great deal for other people to shut herself away from the very thing she cares most about”

“But I don’t care for other people.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I don’t. I never have. Isabelle complains about it all the time.”

“I imagine she complains about your compulsion to try to run other people’s lives whether they want you to or not, but I doubt she ever said you didn’t care for other people.”

“You’re wrong. She’s always saying I don’t care for people’s feelings.”

“Why did you bother to help those old people? They’ve been getting along for decades without you.”

“I can’t stand it when people don’t behave sensibly.”

“But isn’t sensible and logical a matter of opinion?”

“Not when it comes to having a roof over your head and enough food to eat.”

“Why should that bother you so much?”

“Because my parents weren’t sensible,” she burst out, unable to hold back any longer. “They were always fighting, yet they cut themselves off from their families. They headed west when they couldn’t survive a month without help. When they did get their hands on a little money, they wasted it celebrating at an expensive restaurant, buying new clothes, or moving into a fancy hotel. We were thrown out of more places by the time I was ten than you have been in your whole life.”

Now that her burst of temper was over, she regretted telling him so much. It wasn’t just that she was ashamed of the way her parents acted. She was embarrassed to be their daughter. They had failed at everything they attempted. Even worse, they hadn’t seemed to care.

“I’ve never been thrown out of anyplace,” Cole said.

“Good for you,” she snapped. “It’s no fun.”

“That isn’t to say I didn’t sneak out
before
someone could call the sheriff on me.”

He flashed his grin again, the one that made her want to like him so much she’d tell him anything he wanted to know, but she didn’t believe him. He might actually be a drifter—she wasn’t sure of much about him anymore—but she was certain Cole Benton hadn’t ever run away from anybody or anything.

“I don’t like uncertainty,” Drew said.

“Nothing lasts forever.”

“That’s why I’m not getting married. People let you down.”

“Not always.”

“I’m not taking the chance.”

“What about your Jake and Isabelle?”

“They’re different.”

“Why can’t others be different?”

“Maybe they can for somebody else, but not for me.”

“Why can’t you trust anybody?”

She pulled her horse to a stop, and turned to face him. “My parents had me by accident. They dragged me around behind them like forgotten baggage. They never once thought about how what they did would affect me. It was worse with my brothers. Sean’s aunt left him in an orphanage because taking care of him might have interfered with her career. Hawk’s white and Indian relatives threw him out. Zeke was a slave. He doesn’t even know who his parents are or where to find them. Buck’s father sold him to pay a debt. Matt’s uncle sexually abused him.”

“Judas! And Jake and Isabelle adopted all these boys!”

“Now you know why they’re different.”