Vows of the Heart

by Susan Fox

  Veronica nervously adjusted a lapel of her ivory jacket, which matched her linen slacks. She'd chosen the indigo blouse beneath the jacket for the way its color flattered her violet eyes, not realizing until she'd seen Cole what a pleasing harmony of color the two of them created with their choices of blue and ivory.

  Once they were seated next to each other in the lounge of the newly opened Western Club, Veronica enjoyed the warm ambience. The booth Cole had chosen for them while they waited for a table in the dining room was up­holstered in a saddle-blanket weave with carved leather insets that continued the western theme of the restaurant and lounge.

  "Are you as nervous a driver as you seem to be a pas­senger?" Cole asked her after he'd ordered drinks. The question reminded her that she'd always found some ex­cuse to drive herself into town, even when she and Cole were going to buy groceries together.

  "No. I guess it still bothers me to ride in the passenger seat," she answered without thinking. "I had to keep re­minding myself that you were so—" Veronica's face paled at what she'd almost said. Sober. Cole was sober, she'd reminded herself over and over. Eric had been drunk.

  "Your mother said your accident was caused by a drunk driver," Cole probed, and Veronica was uncom­fortable with the sudden interest in his eyes. The wait­ress came and smilingly placed their drinks in front of them, but she departed too quickly for Veronica to man­age a smooth change of subject.

  With a sigh she said frankly, "I was involved in one of the most preventable of drunk-driver accidents—if there is such a thing. I was sober, but I let a drunk climb be­hind the wheel and drive because I. . ." Veronica hesi­tated, knowing her confession would take Cole a step closer to knowing what really happened to her marriage. "Because I didn't want to risk an argument." Perhaps it was time to allow her humiliation to be aired. She had carried it so long now that she was growing more and more weary of trying to conceal it from those who didn't already know about it. Besides, all of her friends and half of New York knew the story.

  Yet still she held back the entire truth. "We'd just been to a beautiful wedding and then attended the reception. It had been a perfect day I didn't want to provoke a scene," Veronica explained, listening to the recounting of the story as if it were being told by someone else. "All our friends were there, all Eric's relatives, even the press. I can remember thinking that it was only a few blocks to our hotel and the traffic was about as slow as it was going to get for New York. I made the near-fatal mistake of as­suming that accidents only happen to other people. Thank God it was a one-car accident and no pedestrians were involved!"

  "What happened to the driver?" Cole asked when she paused for several moments.

  Veronica forced her eyes to meet Cole's as she contin­ued, "He passed out before impact and bruised his fore­head on the steering wheel. My corner of the car hit a brick building and I didn't fare nearly as well," she ad­mitted in an attempt at light understatement. In fact she'd almost bled to death before rescue workers could free her from the wreckage.

  "This driver," Cole persisted, his expression changing from repressed anger to a look of dawning realization, "was he your husband?"

  Veronica's gaze lowered to the glass she'd been twist­ing nervously on the cocktail napkin. "Yes." She still found herself unable to tell Cole that the wedding they'd just come from had been her wedding. Or that Eric had been shocked and sickened by the swollen black-and-blue mask that had once been his bride's face, and the bat­tered broken body swathed in plaster and bandages. So much so that when the doctors gave Eric their initial grim prognosis for her recovery, he'd fled from the hospital— and by the time she regained consciousness several days later, he'd fled from her life. She learned from her mother later that he'd already consulted a lawyer about an annulment.

  A strong tanned hand reached for the slim one in her lap and gave it a consoling squeeze. Veronica forced a smile and looked up into the eyes of the man who sat next to her in the booth. She saw sympathy there, but not pity. Thank God she didn't see pity. That she couldn't have stood. Still, she wasn't ready to tell Cole the rest of it. Not yet. Besides, what she'd told him already threatened to put a pall of gloom over the entire evening and she didn't want that. Not with Cole.

  "What about the new cook, Mrs. Engstrom?" Veron­ica asked, changing the unhappy direction the conversa­tion had taken. "Do you think you're going to hire her?" The thought of the cook's eccentricities made Veronica's eyes twinkle with amusement, and she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling.

  Cole's brows went up as he shook his head. "I've rarely heard a man cuss the way that woman did today. She was a good cook, but I heard words come out of that mouth that'd scald the hair off a dog. It's a wonder the smoke detectors didn't go off."

  Veronica wasn't able to hold back any longer, and she dissolved into laughter, "I thought Teddy and Jim were going to faint from embarrassment," she gasped when she was able to control her mirth. "And Shorty! His face went so red it was nearly purple!"

  "It was probably all that blue air that made it look purple," Cole added, joining Veronica in her laughter. Their joking went on for several minutes—until the mo­ment Cole happened to glance toward the door. The change that came over his happy relaxed expression prompted Veronica to look in the same direction.

  Helen and her husband, Bob, stood in the doorway to the lounge with Jessica Ryan and a man Veronica recog­nized as Wylie Edwards, a local rancher. Helen and Jes­sie seemed to spy Cole and Veronica at the same time, and there was no mistaking the subject of the conspira­torial whispering between the two women. Helen guided Bob in their direction just long enough for him to see Cole and think it was his idea to stop by their table to say hello.

  Veronica glanced sideways at Cole to see if he had in­terpreted Helen's maneuvering the way she had, but he seemed to be taking a lot of belated interest in his drink. When Veronica looked again at the approaching couples and saw the possessive way Wylie Edwards had hooked his arm around Jessie's waist, she realized what had prompted Cole's quick change. He was jealous.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "By golly, Cole," Bob was saying in his typical fash­ion as he grasped Cole's hand and pumped it firmly. "What are you doin' in a place like this when you got Veronica cookin' for you at home?" Veronica blushed at the compliment from one of her most recent admirers. Bob had been over at noon one day and had left raving about the delicious casserole she'd prepared.

  "If I don't give her a night off once in a while, I might find myself doing my own cooking again," Cole joked back before he greeted Helen and Jessie. His nod to Wy­lie was cool.

  "Say, it isn't often we're all together like this," Helen piped up, beaming at the group. "Do you mind if we join you?"

  Put that way, how could she and Cole refuse, Veron­ica thought sourly. Both couples slid into the horseshoe-shaped booth, crowding Veronica and Cole closer to­gether physically, but driving them apart in every other way, as the conversation around the table centered on topics that excluded Veronica. They'd been sitting there only a few moments before Helen made a second sug­gestion—that they all change their table reservations in the dining room to avoid dividing the happy group.

  Jessie echoed Helen's suggestion, and in an instant Veronica and Cole had become part of a party of six. Veronica felt much of the evening's pleasure fade. Even if Cole had wanted to, there was no polite way for him to refuse.

  It was clear to Veronica that happy-go-lucky Bob was oblivious to his wife's impromptu scheme. Besides, he seemed to thoroughly enjoy the fun and companionship of a group, the bigger the better. Poor Wylie was look­ing at Jessie as if he'd walk over hot coals for her, while Cole, sipping his drink, appeared to have temporarily withdrawn into himself. Veronica became convinced that he wished he'd asked Jessie out instead.

  So she kept a polite silence, toying with the swizzle stick in her drink, listening to the happy conversation, yet feeling as distinctly separate from this group of old friends as if she'd been seated at the ne
xt table. And when they were ushered into the dining room, Veronica felt even more dismal when Jessie was seated on the other side of Cole.

  Despite what Veronica expected, Cole made certain she was included, deliberately drawing her into the conver­sation. Their decision to order the dinner for two—they both found the roast tenderloin of beef with Madeira sauce appealing—enabled them to be involved with each other much more closely than if they'd each chosen something different.

  And from the dagger looks Jessie gave her, Veronica was certain neither she nor Helen cared for the fact that for dessert Cole ordered one piece of the disgustingly rich chocolate fudge cheesecake with the understanding that Veronica share it with him.

  "I admire a man who knows when to pull away from the table," Bob commented, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Since you and Veronica have been dividin' every­thing tonight, I reckon you've noticed her cookin' is startin' to put a little weather boarding around your middle." Cole looked anything but amused as he drew open his jacket to glance at his stomach. When he looked up, his sheepish grin brought a chorus of laughter.

  "Speaking of cooking," Helen put in, "when does that woman you had come in today start working for you, Cole?"

  Cole grimaced and Veronica watched his profile with amusement as he explained Mrs. Engstrom's colorful dialect. Neither Helen nor Jessie concealed their disap­pointment very successfully when Cole told them in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't consider hiring the woman.

  "If I could clone Ronnie, I'd have just what I'm look­ing for," Cole told his friends, and Veronica flushed with pleasure at his outspoken praise. Cole raised his arm then and settled it warmly over her shoulders. He didn't re­move it until dessert arrived.

  After dinner the group migrated back to a table in the bar that looked out over the dance floor. Jessie and Hel­en excused themselves and went off in search of the la­dies room. A few moments later, Veronica decided to follow, making her way carefully with her crutches through the evening crowd. The door to the ladies room had just swished closed behind her when she heard Hel­en's voice.

  "I certainly wouldn't let it upset me, Jess," she was saying. "Besides, you can't possibly think that Cole honestly prefers Veronica to you. Look at her."

  Veronica had heard enough. She had just turned to make a quiet retreat when Jessie spoke.

  "So you think this is just a mercy date?" Jessie asked.

  "What else could it be? About all she can really do is cook. She doesn't even have much of a personality."

  Stunned at the cruel words, Veronica stepped into the small sitting room area just outside. Was she really only a "mercy date"? Getting a firm grip on herself, she reentered the rest room noisily, making sure her pres­ence was noticed. There was absolute silence as she re­paired her makeup and ran a brush quickly through her hair. After Helen and Jessie left, Veronica waited a few moments before heading back, determined to forget what she'd just heard.

  "Come on, Cole." Jessie was saying, her perfect lips set in an appealing pout as she tugged on Cole's arm. "Dance with me. You know how I love to dance to fast numbers."

  Bob and Helen were already on the dance floor, and Bob was swinging Helen around with more enthusiasm than grace. Wylie danced only to slow music, and this gave Jessie the opportunity to pursue Cole.

  "Go ahead," Veronica said at his questioning glance, forcing a smile to let him know she didn't mind. But she did. It had been a long time since she'd danced and she suddenly wanted more than anything to have the grace and freedom to be able to get on a dance floor. She wanted to dance even more as she watched Cole go off with Jessie, joining the thickening crowd of dancers.

  Sullen and in obvious bad temper, Wylie ordered a double vodka, which he drank broodingly as he watched his date dance with Cole. When Jessie persuaded Cole to stay with her for a second number, Wylie moved into the chair next to Veronica.

  "Now that she's got him, this is what it will be like the rest of the night," he predicted glumly.

  "Surely not," Veronica said with far more confidence than she felt. Although she knew that Cole wouldn't abandon her for the evening, she couldn't say the same for Jessie's sense of fairness. There was no doubt in her mind that Jessie could easily arrive with one man and spend all her time with another without feeling the slightest twinge of conscience.

  "Damn!" Wylie's voice could be heard in the lull be­tween songs. When the band started a new number, a slow one this time, Wylie grew even angrier. "Look at them," he said, nodding toward Cole and Jessie. "They aren't going to stop till morning." Wylie downed the rest of his drink in one gulp and motioned to the waitress to bring another.

  Veronica knew that with Wylie it was the booze talk­ing, but as she watched Cole and Jessie together on the dance floor, she had difficulty fighting her own jeal­ousy. They looked perfect together. Jessie's voluptuous body was pressed sensually against the lean hardness of Cole's, her blond cover-girl looks providing the perfect complement to Cole's ragged dark handsomeness.

  Suddenly, Veronica found herself wishing Cole would hire Mrs. Engstrom. If he did, she'd be leaving in a day or so, before these hopeless feelings grew into something with a far greater potential to destroy her. I barely sur­vived what Eric did, she thought, and if I fall in love with Cole, how will I recover from that? It came as a shock to realize that the emotion Cole aroused in her was far more intense than what she'd felt for Eric. But her shock was even greater as she realized she was already deeply in love with Cole.

  How had it happened? How could she have blundered into something as dangerous as falling in love with Cole after the way she'd been hurt by Eric?

  "Nothing keeps that woman from chasing Cole," she heard Wylie grouse. "If she ever got any real competi­tion for him, she might get discouraged and give up."

  Wylie took another drink. "Hell." Wylie's glass hit the table top with a thud. "I'm not gonna just sit here like some mongrel dog and wait for her to come back to the table. I spent too damned much money on her tonight to put up with this." Wylie turned his head and stared at Veronica with drunken intensity for a moment. "You want me to drive you home?"

  The color fled from her cheeks at the very thought of getting into a car with anyone in Wylie's condition.

  "They've only danced a couple of dances together," she said reasonably. "Let's give them a little more time." Wylie lurched back in his chair and his anger seemed to subside, but Veronica realized his dark mood was affect­ing her. She was beginning to feel as jilted and unwel­come as he did, perhaps more.

  As she studied Wylie's profile, she decided that this hazel-eyed young man with sun-streaked brown hair was more than marginally attractive. He and Jessie would make a nice-looking couple, but it was plain that Wylie felt far more for the beautiful Jessie than she felt for him. Veronica understood his hurt and disappointment all too well.

  When the song ended, Cole and Jessie made their way back to the table while Bob and Helen remained on the dance floor for the slow tune that followed. Jessie took her seat next to Wylie, a sense of obligation in her sulk­ing manner. Veronica watched her and Wylie together, amazed at how their Iess-than-cheerful dispositions made them well suited to each other.

  As Veronica sipped her drink, she felt awkward knowing that Cole had probably returned to the table out of consideration for her and Wylie rather than out of genuine desire to be with her. He and Jessie had surely been having a much better time with each other than they could expect to have with their respective dates.

  Cole was still standing. He touched Veronica's shoul­der, and she turned her head, her gaze traveling up his long lean body to the darkly handsome face smiling down at her. The evening was over. The thought had her fum­bling for her purse.

  "You don't need your purse to dance," Cole said as he removed the purse strap from her fingers.

  "But I can't dance," she said.

  "Yes you can," he said smiling. "I'll help you."

  Feeling uncoordinated and more than a little embar­rassed,
she reached for her crutches.

  "You don't need them," he said as he helped her up and assisted her to the edge of the dance floor. Moments later, she was in his arms, moving stiffly in contrast to his masculine grace. Cole led with a small stepping pattern to accommodate her, and even though their embrace gave her legs all the support she needed, Veronica was all too aware of her awkwardness.

  "Relax," Cole growled. "Don't worry about winning any dance contests. Just listen to the music and let your body do what it feels." Veronica looked up into his face and was drawn to the intensity of his gaze. Violet eyes registered the unmistakable change that came into Cole's as the darker blue deepened, their pupils widening until only a tiny rim of color surrounded the blackness.

  She was dimly aware of the softness and gradual pliancy of her body against Cole's hard thighs. The strength of the large frame she was pressed ever tighter against sent her into a near-hypnotic state of arousal. Cole moved to the rhythm of the music whether she fal­tered or not and the very constancy of his movements suffused her body with sensual heat and made her weak with wanting. She hardly noticed when one slow song melded into the next. She was aware only of the power and male vigor of the body that guided her, supported her and subtly brought her femininity to life.

  Cole's arms tightened until she was against him fully, her cheek pressed against his broad chest. Her eyes were just drifting closed blissfully, inhaling Cole's warmth and scent of after-shave, when she caught sight of Wylie and Jessie on the dance floor.

  The venomous look Jessie gave her over Wylie's shoulder was chilling, sobering, snapping Veronica from her daze of sensuality. For Jessie's displeasure, Veronica knew, could have unpleasant consequences. More than once in the time Veronica spent at the ranch years ear­lier, she had unwittingly been maneuvered and victim­ized by Jessie's vengeance. Jessie and Wylie disappeared from view when Cole angled their steps in a new direc­tion.

  "You and Jessie still have it in for each other, don't you?" Cole's question was more a statement of fact than a question, and Veronica pulled away slightly to look up into his frowning expression.