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Drew (The Cowboys)

Page 12

by Leigh Greenwood


  “You mean Zeke or Hawk would have tortured him to death?”

  “I mean I’d have put a bullet between his eyes,” she said, deciding she’d already made the wrong impression, so she didn’t have much to lose. Besides, it didn’t matter what Cole thought of her. She wasn’t interested in marrying him, either.

  “I imagine all those brothers must have scared off a lot of suitors.”

  “They might have if I hadn’t scared them off first.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you keep asking me questions I’ve already answered?”

  “Because I find it hard to believe a beautiful woman like you has no interest in men.”

  “You just demonstrated one of the reasons.”

  “What did I do?”

  “You told a bald-faced lie without blinking. You can’t trust a man to tell you the truth, not even when you’ve got a knife to his throat.”

  “When did I lie?”

  “When you said I’m beautiful. Men are always making stupid remarks like that. You think it makes a woman like you, but it just makes her angry when she knows it’s not true.”

  “But you are beautiful. You’d be more so if you dressed like a woman instead of a female version of Daniel Boone.”

  “That’s another reason.”

  “What?”

  “Men are always saying they like a woman just as she is. But give them five minutes, and they start suggesting ways to improve her.”

  “Woman are even worse about that.”

  “Not me. I don’t want any man, so I have no reason to want to change him.” She pushed back her chair. “Now we’d better get to the train station. I imagine they’ll have everything packed and ready to leave by the time we get there.”

  “Will you have dinner with me again?”

  She paused. “Why?”

  “I told you—”

  “I know what you said, but I don’t believe you.”

  “Then you’ll have to give me a chance to convince you I’m sincere.”

  She stood. “It doesn’t matter whether you’re sincere or not. You’ll soon be gone.”

  Drew waited in the lobby while Cole settled the bill. She noticed several women looking at her, envy plain on their faces. She felt like announcing that any fool who wanted a charming drifter could step right up. She’d be happy to trade him for a good cutting pony.

  But even while that thought was passing through her mind, she decided it would be nice if he weren’t a drifter. She wasn’t about to lose her head over him, but it was a shame such an attractive and charming man should go to waste. But she wasn’t fool enough to think the love of a good woman could change Cole Benton.

  She didn’t know why he’d decided to attach himself to her or why he was working so hard to make her act a hit, but she wasn’t going to fight him any longer. He seemed to have a knack for knowing what would appeal to the audience. She didn’t have it. She’d been stiff and ill at ease those first few months. Only her spectacular shooting, and the fact Earl couldn’t find anyone to replace her, had kept her employed. Now she was comfortable enough to take advantage of Cole’s suggestions.

  As long as he didn’t come up with any more stunts like having her jump into his arms. Still, it was nice to have an attractive man around who worked hard to please her. Her brothers loved her, put up with her, even defended her. She was proud of them, and was seldom happier than when she could be in the middle of the whole bunch, but that wasn’t the same.

  Everything was different with Cole.

  She was glad she wasn’t the kind of woman to fall for his looks or his charm. She knew she wasn’t beautiful, but she didn’t mind being told she was. She knew she wasn’t a scintillating companion, but it was nice to have a man act like he couldn’t get enough of her company.

  Yes, she could see some of the reasons women let themselves be flattered and captivated by attractive men. She’d enjoy a little flirtation. But that was all it would be. She doubted she’d see him again after New Orleans. If he stayed around that long.

  “I haven’t seen Drew,” Myrtle said. “I don’t know where she is.”

  Cole was completely out of temper. He’d walked the length of the train, but he couldn’t find Drew. What was more, he couldn’t find Zeke or Hawk. He couldn’t believe they’d been left behind. Drew was far too responsible for that. So where were they?

  He couldn’t very well check every sleeper, but he didn’t see how he could have missed all three of them. He finally gave up and claimed a sleeper for himself. He’d find them when they reached Taylorsville. Then he’d ask what had happened.

  Cole settled into a sleeper, but he didn’t get a lot of sleep. The nagging question of Drew’s whereabouts wouldn’t go away. But that wasn’t nearly as bothersome as her declaration that she wanted nothing to do with men. He could tell himself he was concerned because it compromised his plan to worm his way into her confidence. He could tell himself his increasing interest in her, his efforts to make her act really spectacular, were all part of his plan to stay close to her, to become so necessary she’d have to accept him into her inner circle.

  But he’d be lying.

  He liked her. No, it was more than that He’d never met anybody like her. She was so matter-of-fact about everything. She had organized her whole life, knew exactly what she wanted to do, and didn’t mean to deviate from her plan. Yet he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that below the cool, calculating control existed a woman just as passionate as Drew was imperturbable. Maybe, like Sleeping Beauty, this woman wouldn’t wake until Prince Charming came along.

  Instead of lying here trying to figure out how to bring Drew to life, he ought to be trying to figure out how to cool himself down. He’d never gotten this interested in a woman before, and he’d been introduced to some of the most beautiful and charming women in three states. It was pure insanity to let himself become romantically interested in a woman he was investigating.

  But in order to convince Drew he liked her, he’d probably have to be at least a little interested in her. Surely a woman as clever as Drew could sense when a man was lying about something as important as that.

  Once again the feeling of revulsion rose in his throat like bile. He should never have let his captain talk him into taking this case. It was hard enough to do his job when it was a case of straightforward pursuit and arrest. It was very difficult when he had to pretend to be somebody he wasn’t It was nearly impossible when he had to pretend to feelings he didn’t have.

  But the very worst, the one thing he wasn’t sure he could live with, was to betray what he did feel. If he did that, he’d be betraying himself as well as Drew.

  He’d never thought much about marriage. The women in Memphis were too soft, those he met in Texas too used-up. But he loved Texas for its wildness, the freedom it offered. He’d never expected to find a woman who could survive surrounded by the wildness and freedom his spirit yearned for.

  Then he’d found Drew. She not only survived, she thrived. Her strength only added to her beauty.

  He’d spent many a night tossing restlessly in his sleeper, his body hard with thoughts of what he’d like to do to Drew, with Drew. But lately there’d been a shift. She seemed more of a partner, more his equal. With that had come respect, and a very different feeling, a yearning for something he’d given up hope of finding—a woman with the strength to bridge the chasm between the world that had produced him and the one that had won his heart.

  But unless he wanted to run the risk of exposing himself as a complete fool, he would have to put all these thoughts out of his head. In all probability Drew was a thief. It was his job to find the evidence to prove it one way or the other. It was also a job he’d agreed to do. He’d never backed out of a job before. He couldn’t start now.

  But having made up his mind to proceed as planned, Cole still couldn’t get to sleep. He couldn’t stop wondering what had happened to Drew.

  Taylorsville, Illinois

&nb
sp; “We took a later train,” Drew told him when she showed up for practice the next afternoon.

  They were practicing in the yard of a farmhouse while the crew set up for the show in a nearby field. Cole was certain every person under twenty who lived within a radius of five miles had gathered to watch. The boys imitated Drew’s tricks with imaginary rifles. Their female relatives uniformly made fun of them.

  “What other train?”

  “We can’t always get everybody on one train. Sometimes we travel on as many as four.”

  Cole silently cursed himself for a fool. He’d let himself get so emotionally involved with Drew, he wasn’t paying attention to the obvious. If he’d been thinking at all, he’d have realized there were several other trains during the night.

  “What did you want?” Drew asked. “Have you come up with a new trick?”

  “I thought you might try a few shots with a mirror.” He hadn’t thought any such thing. The words came out on their own. He’d spent all his time wondering where she was, knowing the only reason he hadn’t gone back to look for her was that she had Zeke and Hawk with her.

  “That sounds hard.”

  “It is, but you can do it.”

  He had to get himself under control, or he was going to make a mess of this job. If he did, the other agents would never let him forget a woman had outsmarted him. The fact he was becoming more and more interested in her wouldn’t make any difference.

  “What does Earl think of it?”

  “He doesn’t care as long as the fans applaud. What I really want you to do is wear some different clothes.” He hadn’t planned this, either. It just came out.

  “Like what?”

  She looked suspicious, like she didn’t trust him.

  “Your outfit is very nice, but brown is a dull color. And those loose clothes don’t take advantage of your biggest asset.”

  “What’s that?”

  She asked as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  “Your femininity. You look like you’re ready to ride out and round up a few steers.”

  “That’s how I’m supposed to look.”

  “Not necessarily. You’re a woman excelling in what’s usually considered a man’s sport. The more feminine you appear, the more remarkable your accomplishment will seem.”

  “Are you saying I don’t look like a woman?”

  If he said yes, she’d probably shoot him dead on the spot.

  “Of course not. I’m saying you can look more feminine with different clothes. We can look for something as soon as we finish practice.”

  Cole had done a lot of crazy things in his life, but he’d never taken a woman shopping against her will. Neither he nor the saleswoman was making much headway with Drew.

  “I don’t wear ribbons,” Drew announced. “And I don’t wear pink.”

  “I’m not asking you to wear this for yourself,” Cole said, wondering what it would take to convince Drew he didn’t mean this as a personal insult. “I’m asking you to wear it for the men in the audience who will respond to you as a beautiful, desirable woman.”

  “I’ve already warned you about lying, Cole Benton.”

  “And for the women who see you as the kind of woman they’d like to be if Mother Nature had only given them the chance.”

  “Women do like to see a pretty woman look like a woman,” the saleswoman said.

  “What do you think I look like now?” Drew demanded in a tone so stern the saleswoman nearly swallowed her tongue.

  “You look very nice, but… well, it’s just that… I think some other colors would make you look even prettier.”

  “What she’s trying to say,” Cole said, driven by frustration to brutal frankness, “is that you’d make a better impression if you didn’t look like you’d just come from a winter spent trapping beaver in the Colorado.”

  “The beaver were trapped out decades ago.”

  “Good. Now you’ve got no need to go around looking like your grandpa.”

  “Both my grandfathers were successful businessmen who would never have been caught dead wearing buckskin.”

  “Then why do you?”

  “Because I like it.”

  “Fine. Wear buckskin on your ranch. Wear it on the train, at the hotel, on the street if you must, but wear something pretty and feminine when you go into the ring.”

  “I’m not dressing up queer for anybody,” Drew said, looking at the pink dress as though it was a coiled rattlesnake.

  “You’ve got to appeal to an audience any way you can.”

  “If they don’t like the way I dress, they don’t have to watch me.”

  “You’ll never get to be a star, thinking like that. You’ve got to ask yourself what the spectators want and give it to them.”

  “They want fantastic shooting,” Drew said, her eyes bright with anger, “and that’s what they get.”

  “If that’s all they wanted, Earl could hire an Arkansas coon hunter or a Colorado mountain man. They want more. They want a show. That means spectacle, making everything bigger than life, making it as bright and exciting as possible.”

  “Now you’re saying my shooting isn’t interesting enough to make people want to come see me. If that’s the way you feel about it, I’m surprised you bother with me at all.”

  Cole had been around many women during his life, but never one more determined to take everything he said the wrong way.

  “It’s exactly like entering the ring on horseback,” he said, “shooting the bull’s-eyes and candles from horseback rather than on the ground. Those things may not be difficult for you, but they look impossible to the audience. That makes it more exciting.”

  “Then think up some more exciting tricks.”

  “I will, but changing the way you dress would work better than two or three new tricks.”

  “We have dresses in lots of other colors,” the saleswoman said. “Blue has been very popular this year.”

  “Do you have something with a white pinafore?” Cole asked.

  “Pinafore!” Drew exclaimed like he’d uttered a dirty word. “You expect me to wear a pinafore, like some poor, helpless female who has no more gumption than to do everything a man tells her?”

  “You don’t like bright colors, you refuse to wear ribbons, you threatened to shoot my ears off when I brought up cosmetics, and now you cringe at the mention of a pinafore. What have you got against looking like a woman?”

  “I look like a woman. I’m wearing a skirt.”

  Cole looked down at the heavy brown skirt that stopped at the top of her boots. She wore a brown shirt over a white blouse buttoned up at the neck, and gloves. This morning she had coiled her hair under her widebrimmed hat There was no way anyone could mistake Drew for a man, but her manner of dress effectively diminished her feminine appeal.

  “It takes more than a skirt to make a woman look like a woman. You should get rid of that hat, and wear a ribbon that brings out the color of your eyes, a dress that accentuates the shape of your body.”

  “You’re just like all the rest of the men in this world,” Drew snapped. “You want to tart me up until I look like one of those women men pay to spend time with. Well, you can mark me off your list If my shooting isn’t good enough, Earl can find himself another sharpshooter. I joined this show to work, not turn myself into a painted hussy concerned only with what men think when they see her.”

  “I’m not talking about men.”

  “Indeed, he’s not,” the saleswoman added, fearful Drew would leave without buying anything. “Women like to see another woman looking pretty and feminine. That way, if she can best a man at something, it makes it all the more exciting. We feel if you could do it, maybe we could, too.”

  But Drew wasn’t listening. She’d turned on her heels and marched out of the store.

  “Oh dear,” the saleswoman said. “And that pink dress looked so lovely on her.”

  “Pack it up,” Cole said.

  “But she said she would
n’t wear it.”

  “I know, but maybe I can get her to change her mind. Give me two more, something in bright yellow if you have it and that blue dress you mentioned, but no pinafores. That might be too much.”

  A short time later Cole walked out of the store with three complete outfits. He told himself he was a fool, that he ought to be trying to gain her confidence, not fighting over ways to make her more attractive. But he wasn’t nearly so worried about that anymore. He didn’t know who could be pulling off all these robberies, but it couldn’t be Drew.

  She resisted his suggested changes because she felt it diminished her talent and turned her into a woman with a gimmick. She wanted to be appreciated for her talent alone. Nothing else. She’d invited several old people to retire to the ranch with her. She might not want to take care of a husband and children, but she did intend to take care of these retired show people.

  That wasn’t the description of a woman who robbed banks. This was a woman who, despite her loud protestations to the contrary, wanted to love and be loved. Something had made her think she disliked men, couldn’t trust them, but the way she talked about her adopted brothers showed that once a man proved himself trustworthy, she could be attracted to him.

  And Cole wanted Drew to be attracted to him.

  He’d been fighting his attraction, telling himself over and over again he couldn’t let himself become interested in a criminal, that it would destroy his objectivity, make it impossible to bring the case to a suitable conclusion. But if Drew was not responsible for the robberies, he could let his feelings off the leash. He didn’t have to be careful anymore.

  But he did have to tell his captain they were investigating an innocent woman while letting the real culprit continue unhindered.

  Deciding a telegram would be the quickest way, he turned toward the telegraph office in the post office. He took a form, wrote his message, and handed it to the operator.

  “I got a telegram for you,” the man said when he saw the name at the bottom of the message. “Just came in a few minutes ago.”

  The captain knew the Wild West Show’s itinerary. Cole was supposed to check for messages each day. He’d done that before he took Drew shopping. Cole took the telegram handed to him and broke it open. The message was brief.

 

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