Drew (The Cowboys) (41 page)

Earl was ecstatic to have her back. He was pressuring her to return next season. He’d already offered to triple her salary. If he’d quadruple it, she’d be able to afford the ranch she wanted and the cattle to stock it after just one more year. And she wouldn’t have to depend upon Zeke and Hawk to help her.

But being self-sufficient was no longer a comfort. It made her feel cut off, lonely. She used to tell herself she wanted it because Jake and Isabelle had already given her too much, that she couldn’t take anything else from them. But that was no excuse to refuse her aunt’s little gifts or to shut her out of her life. She’d have preferred to shower Drew with clothes and jewels, to thrust her into the very center of high society, but all she really wanted was to be part of Drew’s life.

That was all Cole asked, too.

Drew had always let people get close, then pushed them away before they got too close. She’d done it with Jake and Isabelle, her brothers, now her aunt. Even the old people in the show. It was okay for her to love people, to do things for them, to give of herself, but it wasn’t okay for people to like her back.

Why?

She was afraid, but afraid of what? Being rejected? Hurt? Abandoned? Of becoming dependent? Of not being pretty enough? Not being feminine?

A hot feeling in the pit of her stomach told her she’d hit upon a live idea. She was afraid her own cussedness, her bossiness, would drive people away. But it was something more fundamental with Cole. She knew she was strong, capable, hardworking. She also knew she lacked feminine graces, style, beauty, all the little things that strong men looked for in women they chose to be their wives. She was more comfortable in pants than in a dress. A gun or a rope felt natural in her hand. A fan didn’t. She didn’t mind the smell of cows or sweat. She preferred the company of men to women. She had no graces and feminine wiles.

“Look at me,” Drew said to her aunt.

Her aunt looked perplexed. “Why?”

“Do I look like any woman you’ve ever seen?”

“I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“I don’t have flawless skin or seductive eyes. I don’t simper, sigh, flutter my eyelashes, or make a fool of myself over men. I don’t pine when they’re absent or spend all my time thinking of ways to please them. I wear a gun rather than a gown, and boots instead of silk slippers. Hell, I can’t be very charming and seductive if Earl Odum is able to dress up and pass himself off as me.”

“This is nonsense,” her aunt said. “Just because you’ve spent most of your life trying to look and act like a boy doesn’t mean you can’t be feminine when you want.”

“I’m not sure I want to, but I’m positive I don’t know how.”

Her aunt’s gaze narrowed. “When did you start worrying about being able to act feminine?”

“When I met Cole’s mother and the woman she wants him to marry. I don’t like Sibyl Owens, but she’s beautiful, feminine, and stylish. Any man would count himself fortunate to have her as his wife. She’d know what to do in any social occasion. What man is going to want me when I not only look and act like a cowboy, but can do everything better than he can?”

Her aunt leaned back in her chair, a smile of satisfaction making her eyes dance. “You
do
love him. You needn’t bother to deny it. It’s in every word you say.”

“Yes,” Drew said, relieved to have finally divested herself of this momentous secret, “I do love him.”

“Then marry him.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not the kind of woman he wants. He’s used to society, and pretty, soft women in fancy gowns and candlelight. What would he do with a female cowboy?”

“Cole strikes me as a man who knows his own mind.”

“Isabelle says a man hardly ever knows what he wants. He’s liable to be attracted to a pretty ball because he likes its color or because it bounces high. But he’ll become bored with it in a few days.”

“Isabelle thinks you ought to marry Cole.”

“She likes him, but she doesn’t know him like I do.”

“And what do you know that’s so important?”

“Cole is rebelling against part of his upbringing, but not all of it. Eventually he’ll be sorry I don’t fit in.”

“Then what are you willing to do about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you love this man and want to marry him?”

“Yes.” She had confessed everything now.

“Then you have to be willing to make yourself into the kind of woman you think he wants.”

“I can’t.”

“You haven’t tried. You don’t know.”

“I can’t pretend to be what I’m not.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about your willingness to make some compromises, to wear a fancy dress if necessary, attend a party, let him have the spotlight occasionally. If you’re not willing to bend a little, there’s no point in talking.”

Drew started to say she didn’t like fancy dresses, but she realized she’d never really worn one. Now that she thought of it, Rose said Fern had learned to wear gowns, go to parties, and entertain. Isabelle positively enjoyed all those things. It didn’t seem like such a big sacrifice. She was sure she could still wear her boots and short skirts most of the time.

She wasn’t so sure about mixing with the kind of people that made up Cole’s social circle. She hadn’t liked any of the women she’d met. But she hadn’t met very many. That society had produced Cole. There was no reason to assume it couldn’t produce other people she could like.

She didn’t know how much of Memphis remained in Cole, but despite his years in Texas, she expected it was a lot. Rose said George had never stopped being a Virginia aristocrat, even though he’d been in Texas for years fighting Indians, rustlers, and carpetbaggers. Drew suspected Cole was the same. When she was honest, she had to admit that was part of what she loved about him. She might not be able to make the transition, but keeping Cole’s love was enough reason to try.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked her aunt.

“I want you to turn yourself over to me for one night. Just one. Let me dress you as I like and take you to a fancy ball. I’ll make sure Cole is invited. Then you can see for yourself if you can be what you think he likes.”

Drew almost opened her mouth to refuse. She didn’t see any reason to subject herself to public failure. She didn’t really care what anybody thought, but the idea of losing Cole was too much. If she really tried, she could probably turn herself into the kind of woman he wanted.

She felt a tear roll down her cheek. It would be so much nicer if he loved her just as she was.

“He’s doing it,” Myrtle whispered to Drew.

“Who’s doing what?” Drew asked.

“Earl. He’s dressing up like a woman.”

Drew was in the process of cleaning her guns; all her. arsenal was disassembled and laid out on a long table. They didn’t need cleaning, but she wanted to be close enough to Cole to see him without seeming to
want
to see him.

“Find Cole immediately and tell him,” Drew said. What a time to be without a weapon!

“He’s not here,” Myrtle said. “A buffalo trampled on that man who was here to help him. Cole took him to the hospital.”

Cole had recruited Drew’s old people to help him, organizing them into teams to keep Earl under surveillance at all times. They were supposed to notify Cole the minute they saw Earl putting on his disguise. The government team would then follow him and make the arrest.

Only Cole wasn’t here. It was up to Drew. If she didn’t do something, Earl would get away with another robbery, and she and her brothers would still be under suspicion. Fingers flying, she started to reassemble one of her guns.

“Tell everybody to meet in this tent in two minutes, including Hawk and Zeke,” she said to Myrtle. “Tell Eddie to find Cole and tell him what’s happening. You see if you can delay Earl long enough for me to put at least one gun together.”

Myrtle hurried away. Drew worked with feverish haste to put the gun together as quickly as possibly. She didn’t know what to do. She could stop Earl, but it wouldn’t help. He wouldn’t rob any more banks, and she’d never be able to prove her innocence. She had to let him attempt the robbery and find a way to capture him in the process.

Zeke and Hawk were the first to arrive. Drew told them to follow Earl’s two confederates.

“We can capture them now,” Zeke said.

“No. We’ve got to catch them in the act.”

“What are you going go do?”

“I’m going to follow Earl.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Zeke said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I won’t be in danger. All my friends will be with me. Eddie has gone to get Cole. He can take over.”

Zeke wanted to argue, but the others started to arrive and she sent him off, worried Earl’s helpers would get away.

“What do you want us to do?” Myrtle asked.

“We’re going to follow Cole’s plan,” she said. “We’ll all follow Earl. Every so often one of us will drop off and wait to tell Cole how to find us. It’s like leaving a human trail of breadcrumbs.”

She finished putting the gun together. “Now, I need a purse to hide this in, and a huge, floppy hat to hide my face.”

In minutes, Myrtle had unearthed both items from the trunks that filled the tent.

“Scatter and get your bankbooks,” Drew said. “If we get caught, we can always say we’re going to make a deposit. Now hurry.”

Drew put her gun in the purse, jammed the hat on her head, and left the tent just in time to see a very pretty lady she didn’t recognize leaving the field and heading toward town.

“That’s Earl,” Myrtle said.

Drew never would have suspected. Earl looked beautiful. Even graceful. Following him proved to be easier than Drew had expected, and much more boring. Earl made no attempt to keep out of sight. Apparently certain no one could penetrate his disguise, he didn’t look behind him or take a roundabout route. He headed straight for the heart of the city.

Once there, however, he assumed a dawdling pace, looking in windows and even going into shops. The old people started getting restless. It had turned out to be one of the few cold, wet days in New Orleans, and their old bones were beginning to ache. Drew was certain they’d be a lot happier if they could slip into one of the cozy shops or restaurants they passed.

“Why’s he taking so long?” Myrtle’s husband asked when Earl entered his second shop.

“I guess he’s supposed to meet his confederates at a certain time,” Drew said. A terrible thought occurred to her. Perhaps Earl knew they were following him. He was leading them away from his henchmen, who would handle the robbery alone. Drew told herself to relax. Earl was too much of a control freak to let anyone do anything for him. Besides, Zeke and Hawk were following the other men. They were more than capable of handling them.

She just wanted Cole to arrive. She felt totally confident dealing with anything that had to do with a ranch, but this business of stalking and arresting robbers was out of her scope. It was easy with rustlers. You caught them in the act and strung them up on the spot. She was certain it wouldn’t be quite so easy with a bank robbery in the middle of New Orleans.

“I’ll bet he’s looking for a bag to put the loot in,” Myrtle’s husband said when Earl went into a third store.

“Probably,” Drew said, looking over her shoulder to make sure someone had dropped off at the last corner. A man who used to be an acrobat but now helped with the buffalo took up a position next to a tobacco shop. Drew turned her attention to a bookstore, watching for Earl’s exit out of the comer of her eye. She hadn’t been there more than a few minutes when a cry of “That’s Drew Townsend!” caused her to spin around.

Across the street was the office of the
New Orleans Picayune,
the major newspaper of New Orleans. A horde of reporters had spilled out the door and were headed her way.

“What new tricks are you going to add to your show tonight?”

“Did you really feed your family by shooting game before you were ten?”

“Are you going to be with the Wild West Show next season?”

“I heard your parents were in town. Are they coming to see you?”

“My readers want to know the name of your assistant,” a female reporter said. “They want to know if he’s married.”

“Where did you learn to shoot?”

“How old are you?”

“Tell us about your adopted family.”

Drew had never realized how frightening reporters could be when she wasn’t protected by Cole’s presence. She knew it was useless to try to run away or avoid the questions. Her best bet was to answer as many questions as quickly as possible and hope they’d leave before Earl came out of the shop. Just then Cole rounded the corner at a run.

“Where is he?” he asked Drew.

“In that shop.”

“What does he look like?”

“Myrtle can tell you. I have to talk to these reporters.”

“Keep talking, even after Earl comes out and I follow him,” Cole said. “I don’t want any question about your alibi this time.”

“Hawk and Zeke are following the other two men.”