Drew (The Cowboys) (32 page)

“A single woman should never disappear with a single man. Even if everyone knows nothing happened, you’ll get a reputation for being fast.”

She already had a reputation for being fast—with a gun. She was as slow as molasses in winter when it came to men. What had happened that was so terrible she felt as if she wanted to die? Cole had kissed her. True, it wasn’t as much fun as before, but that was probably because she was upset. It still sent delicious chills all through her, made her want to kiss him even harder, longer.

Then there was the fact that he loved her. She didn’t love him, and she had told him so. He didn’t like it, but he was a gentleman. Nothing bad had happened. It was over, done with, forgotten.

Only she couldn’t forget a single word Cole had spoken.

“You don’t have to worry about my reputation, Aunt Dorothea. I’ll disappear into Texas in a year or so, and everybody will forget about me.”

“Society is a small circle. There aren’t many rich people in the South since the war. You’re an heiress. Everybody will remember you.”

“I don’t want your money,” Drew said. “Give it to somebody else.”

“I don’t have any other relations except my husband’s Yankee cousins. And they have too much money already.”

“Then give it to charity. I’m going to earn everything I get.” Much to her surprise, the thought of owning her own ranch didn’t send her pulse racing as it usually did. The prospect of seeing her own brand on her own cows, of deciding when to start the roundup, of ramrodding her crew, of building her own house—none of these gave her the feeling of satisfaction or accomplishment she’d always had before.

“I don’t know what you’ll do with my money,” her aunt said, “but you’ll inherit it when I die.”

“Then I hope you live to be a hundred.”

“If I have to keep chasing you all over the country just to get to see you for a few days or hours, I probably won’t live to see my next birthday.”

“You shouldn’t see me at all. It always makes you unhappy.”

“I couldn’t stop seeing you even if I wanted to. I’d feel I had deserted your mother. I don’t know what I could have done, but I’ve always felt partly responsible for her death. Maybe if I’d encouraged her to confide in me before she met your father, she’d have told me what was bothering her. I don’t know that I could have helped her, but I could have tried.”

“Please, Aunt Dorothea, don’t feel guilty about my mother. You couldn’t have done anything to change things. Neither of my parents ever listened to advice.”

“When I think of how close you came to dying, it makes me want to shoot your father all over again.”

“Mama wanted to go west even more than Papa. They rebelled against all rules of society. I can’t remember seeing them happy except when they were spending money they didn’t have.” Maybe her parents’ disregard for money was the reason she was so determined to pay her own way, to avoid any kind of debt, financial or emotional.

She wondered if they had felt as miserable as she did now, if she had inherited her mother’s temperament and would be miserable for the rest of her life. No, she’d been happy with Jake and Isabelle. Her brothers irritated her from time to time, but that was to be expected in any family. And though she didn’t exactly like show business, she had enjoyed her time with the Wild West Show. It helped establish her independence, her ability to support herself. No man would ever expect her to stay home and look after his babies. She was going to do everything a man could do, and she was going to do it just as well.

That assertion didn’t give her much satisfaction either. Being one of the most successful ranchers in Texas suddenly seemed lonely and uninviting, and she knew who was to blame.

Cole Benton.

If he hadn’t opened his mouth about being in love with her, she wouldn’t be sunk in the corner of her seat, ignoring her aunt’s lecture on propriety and the role of women in society, watching her dream of a ranch of her own grow tarnished and uninviting, thinking about a grinning mouth, twinkling eyes, and strong arms. If he had just kept his mouth shut, she would have spent her last night with her aunt in relative peace and returned to the Wild West Show with a smile on her lips and a skip in her step.

Now she was miserable enough to give a grinning fool the blue megrims.

“I wish you weren’t leaving tomorrow. I’m going to miss you.”

“You could come to the show to see me off.”

“You know I can’t bear the thought of you being in that show.”

She wondered if Cole would be there. She’d gotten so used to him, she didn’t know if she could do her act without him. It certainly wouldn’t be nearly as exciting for the audience. Or for her.

She might as well admit that that was the problem with the ranch. It didn’t seem nearly so exciting without thinking of Cole being there with her. Only now did she realize that she’d gradually come to think of him as part of her life.

She wondered if he would go to her ranch with her. She wondered if she would have the courage to ask him.

“Where does your season start next year?” her aunt asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

No, she wouldn’t ask him. She
couldn’t.
It wouldn’t work.

Why not? Jake and Isabelle had made it work. So had Ward and Marina, Buck and Hannah, even Rose and George Randolph. If they could all manage to love each other, why couldn’t she and Cole?

Did she love Cole already?

No, but she liked him too much to consider never seeing him again. She liked being with him. Until tonight, she’d never fallen into a bad mood when she was with him. She had already admitted she liked his kisses, his strong arms holding her. She didn’t believe she was beautiful, but she liked to think he thought she was. She liked the pride he took in her achievement.

“Why don’t you spend the winter with me?”

“I have to go home. Jake and Isabelle are expecting me.”

Maybe she could fall in love if she gave herself a chance. There were a lot of men she liked and admired. She’d always assumed she didn’t want to have anything to do with a man, but now that she thought about it, she’d been surrounded by men for years, dozens of them. She was used to it.

She
liked
it. It was women she had no use for.

Did she want to have a man in her life, in her house… in her bed? The answer came fast and clear. Yes, and she wanted that man to be Cole.

“I’m sure they would understand. After all, I am your only living relative.”

“Isabelle wouldn’t. She still gets depressed when everyone can’t be home for Christmas.”

The swiftness of the answer, the certainty that the man couldn’t be anyone but Cole, nearly knocked the little remaining sense out of her. How could she have come to like Cole so much without realizing it? She wasn’t an idiot. She hadn’t been sleepwalking. It should be impossible for a reasonably intelligent woman to miss something like that.

Yet she’d missed it, because she’d been telling herself for years she didn’t want love, didn’t want marriage, wouldn’t even consider the idea. She’d become so accustomed to feeling no attraction to men, to being certain it couldn’t happen to her, she hadn’t recognized it when it did.

Now she was on the verge of falling in love with a drifter.

“Do you think you could talk Jake and Isabelle into spending the winter in New York?” her aunt asked.

“No.”

“New Orleans?”

“It’s too far from home.”

“I wish you’d stop calling that ranch home.”

“But it is my home. The only real home I’ve ever known.”

“It wouldn’t have been if you’d come to live with me.”

“It was too late.”

“You were only eleven. You could have learned.”

Drew reached across and took her aunt’s hands. “You’ve got to accept that I’m different from you. I
like
the ranch. I like cows and dust and sweat. I don’t like dressing up and going to parties. For your sake, I wish I did. But I don’t. I never will.”

Her aunt sighed deeply, and gave Drew’s hands a squeeze. “It’s not that so much. It’s just that I miss seeing you. I love you, Drucilla. I want to see you married and settled with children.”

The image caused Drew’s throat to close convulsively.

“I can’t learn to like ranches,” her aunt said, “but maybe I can meet you halfway. Do you think you could visit me more often if I lived in San Antonio?”

“You wouldn’t like it.”

“I can like anything if I make up my mind to it”

Something closely resembling a shaft of pain shot through Drew from bosom to belly. Cole might say he loved her—he might truly love her—but he was a drifter. He’d promised to stay through New Orleans, but he’d made no promises after that. Just that he loved her.

Drew knew love would never be enough. Her parents had loved each other. Their forgiveness of each other was just as tender and sweet as their fights were ugly and violent. Drew couldn’t endure the fights, or Cole’s coming back from time to time. That would be worse than his disappearing forever. It would keep hope alive, and that would tear her apart.

Why had she done anything so foolish as to let herself become involved with a drifter?

She remembered she had decided Cole had joined the show for a purpose, that he might not be a drifter, but that didn’t help. Once his job was over, he would disappear. She was probably entertainment while he did whatever he was doing. She might not be pretty, but she was available.

Drew cursed herself for a fool, because she wanted everything she knew about Cole to be different. She wanted to tell herself she barely knew him, that he could be the most dependable, reliable, responsible man in the country. She wanted to forget he had wandered into her life without the baggage of a past or a future, without family or obligations. She wanted to ignore the fact that if he could walk away from all that, he could leave her behind even more easily.

“When are you leaving?” her aunt asked.

“Tomorrow, immediately after the show.”

The show. She’d nearly forgotten the show. She would have to perform with Cole, and pretend nothing had happened, that her life was just as orderly and serene as ever. She wasn’t sure she could do that. She was certain if he said one sweet, tender word to her, she would burst into tears.

Chapter Nineteen

Drew was so jittery she couldn’t stand still. She prayed Carl would make his introduction longer than usual. It sounded shorter. Maybe the horse would go lame and she could walk in rather than ride. The horse was in perfect condition.

“Why are you nervous?” Zeke said as he helped her onto the horse’s back.

“I’m not nervous.”

“If you don’t calm down, you’ll miss shots.”

Just what she needed, a real boost of confidence. The music came up, Earl announced her name, Zeke slapped the horse on his hindquarters, and Drew was in the ring and in the spotlight.

She refused to look at Cole. She hadn’t been sure he would show up, but he’d set up the tricks as usual. She concentrated on the targets as she rode by. She breathed a sigh of relief when she hit all three dead center. The second pass went just as well. She started to relax.

Too soon. She missed one of the candles. Damn! She’d never missed. She took a slight hop in the air, turned completely around, and quickly fired a second shot. She got it She stumbled when she turned around to get ready to jump into Cole’s arms. She caught Cole’s look of surprise out of the corner of her eye.

Hell, she would jump even if she was off balance. She wouldn’t give in to nerves, embarrassment, or whatever feelings were turning her into an addlebrained fool.

The jump was a mistake. The feel of Cole’s arms around her, her body pressed close to his, the look of entreaty in his eyes, hit her like the sudden onslaught of a fever. Her limbs began to tremble.

“Put me down,” she hissed when Cole continued to hold her, carrying her around the ring like a trophy.

“Why didn’t you come to practice today?”

“We don’t have anything to say to each other. If you don’t put me down this instant, you’ll ruin the act.”

Cole tossed her in the air. She spun around like a top.

“She’s light as a feather, folks,” he called to the audience, “fragile as a lamb, but she can shoot the eyebrows off a mosquito at fifty yards.”

“I’ll shoot
your
eyebrows off if you throw me up in the air again,” she hissed. “I’ll be so dizzy I won’t be able to hit a thing.”

Cole tossed her again, caught her above his head, and held her there.

“She’s so good, she can shoot the target from where she is right now.”

She was going to kill him. There was absolutely no doubt about it.

“Show the good people what you can do, Miss Townsend. Give us a clay pigeon!” he called.

Almost immediately a clay pigeon was launched into the air. By some miracle, Drew’s bullet smashed it to smithereens.

“Two this time,” he called out, and two clay pigeons sailed into the air. Drew managed to hit them both.

“Let’s make it a little more difficult. I’ll spin her around a few times and see what she can do.”