Drew (The Cowboys)

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Drew (The Cowboys) Page 22

by Leigh Greenwood


  “Cole, darling, your mother needs you this instant. I’m not certain she’s entirely well.”

  His mother was never well when people weren’t doing what she wanted them to do. It was a ploy she used often. Unfortunately, it still worked.

  “I’d like you to meet Miss Drew Townsend,” Cole said to Sibyl.

  “How do you do, Miss Townsend. I don’t mean to seem rude, but Cole needs to return to his mother immediately.”

  “Of course,” Drew responded. “I wouldn’t think of keeping him. I’m tired of dancing anyway.”

  “But you’ve only danced one dance,” Sibyl pointed out.

  “One too many as far as I’m concerned,” Drew replied. “You’d better hurry to your mama, Cole. I’d have been long gone if Isabelle had taken a bad turn.”

  Cole knew it was pointless to attempt to explain that his mother’s bad turn was merely bad manners. “Save me another dance,” he said.

  “She just said she doesn’t like to dance,” Sibyl reminded him. “It’s rude to force a girl when she doesn’t want to.”

  “I doubt the men here will allow her to languish in a corner. I just want to make sure I get my share of dances.”

  “If you see Hunter Ashby heading my way, get over here as fast as you can,” Drew said, looking about her like a pursued animal. “I considered hiding a gun in this dress, but the danged thing doesn’t have a pocket. I could have put one in my leather purse, but my aunt said it was unsuitable. You can’t even hide a pocket gun in this thing.” She held up her evening purse. Her expression clearly said she considered the elegant cream silk reticule worse than useless.

  “What an odd thing to say,” Sibyl said. “Miss Townsend grew up in Texas,” Cole explained. “She’s used to defending herself against rustlers and other marauders.”

  “How terrible. I’m sure you’re relieved to be in Memphis.”

  “I can’t wait to get back to Texas,” Drew said.

  Sibyl’s smile was as broad and brilliant as it was insincere. “I hope you’ll be able to return soon. Now, Cole, you really must go to your mother.”

  “Tell her I hope she feels better,” Drew said.

  “What a quaint girl,” Sibyl said as she watched Drew walk back toward her aunt “I can’t imagine who she expects will marry her.”

  “Apparently Hunter Ashby has designs in that direction.”

  “His mother would never let him marry a female of that type.”

  Cole came to an abrupt stop. His hand shot out, grasped Sibyl by the arm, and spun her around. “And exactly what type of female is she?”

  Sibyl reacted with surprise and outrage, but she quickly got her anger under control. Cole figured her family’s financial situation must be truly desperate. Sibyl was known for her imperious temper.

  “I would have thought that was obvious,” she said. “She might fit into Texas society—I’m glad to say I know nothing of it—but she obviously could never belong here.”

  “She doesn’t want to belong here.”

  “How fortunate for everyone concerned.”

  Cole told himself not to waste time bandying words with Sibyl. He didn’t care what she thought. “Where’s Mother?”

  “In the sitting room. She felt weak and had to lie down.”

  She always felt weak when something happened that she didn’t like. Cole felt a sudden revulsion for a society where people didn’t say what they meant, where they hid behind subterfuges and small lies to keep from being honest. If Drew didn’t like something, she said so. If she was confused or unsure, she demanded an explanation. You always knew where you stood with her because she made no attempt to hide her feelings. The society he’d grown up in had developed an intricately woven pattern of behavior and carefully worded phrases designed to hide a person’s true feelings. It took a lifetime to fully master it Cole had forgotten how much he hated it.

  “Have you called for a doctor?” Cole asked.

  “Your mother was afraid calling a doctor might destroy everyone’s pleasure.”

  He hadn’t expected his mother to change her lifelong habits, but he couldn’t stop hoping. He found her just as he expected, lounging on a sofa and looking radiantly healthy.

  “Cole, I hated to tear you away from the party. I’m sure you were enjoying yourself immensely, but Sibyl insisted upon fetching you.”

  “What’s wrong this time?” He hadn’t intended for his words to sound so harsh, so abrupt, but if he’d followed his inclinations, he wouldn’t have come at all.

  “I’m just feeling faint. I’m certain if I remain quiet for a while, I’ll feel much better soon.”

  “If that’s all, you don’t need me here.”

  His mother looked shocked, then hurt.

  “You can’t leave your mother alone,” Sibyl said.

  “Why not? It’s not like I’m leaving her on the street. Besides, you’re with her.”

  “But she’s your mother.”

  “You don’t have to stay long,” his mother said. “Just sit for a few minutes.”

  Cole didn’t want to sit down. He knew once he did, the few minutes would stretch into half an hour. It would stretch even longer if he didn’t do what his mother wanted.

  “I don’t see why you’re in such a hurry to get back to the party,” his mother said. “You always swear you don’t like to dance.”

  “For a man who doesn’t like to dance, you were quick enough to dance with that woman,” Sibyl said. Her expression wasn’t pretty. But then jealousy was never attractive, not even on the face of a beautiful woman.

  “I hope you will at least dance with Sibyl,” his mother said. “She’s been so kind and thoughtful to me.”

  Cole knew he was being cornered, and his temper flared. “Do you want me to stay with you, or do you want me to dance with Sibyl?”

  “Don’t make him dance with me if he doesn’t want to,” Sibyl said.

  “I don’t see why he shouldn’t dance with you,” his mother answered. “He’s already danced with that woman’s niece.”

  Now Cole understood. “Miss Townsend is a stranger in town. You always said we should take care of guests first, family later.”

  His mother knew she’d been boxed in and didn’t appreciate it. “I know nothing of that young woman or her aunt,” she said. “I don’t know if they deserve such consideration. Besides, I wouldn’t expect you to dance with her when you won’t dance with a young woman I love as though she were my own daughter.”

  His mother was resorting to broad hints early in the evening. He wondered what she would say if she could hear Drew’s opinions of men and marriage. “It’s always best to do the right thing first,” said Cole. “You can’t regret it later.”

  “Well, you’ve done your duty. You can now devote the rest of your evening to Sibyl.”

  “I’m certain Sibyl would prefer to dance rather than remain here with you and me.”

  “I wouldn’t think of leaving your mother while she’s feeling unwell,” Sibyl said. “I couldn’t look myself in the mirror if I did.”

  Cole sat down. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes. If you’re not better by then, I’ll take you home.”

  “I would hate to keep you from the dance.”

  “You wouldn’t. I’d come back as soon as the doctor arrived.”

  His mother looked horrified. And furious. “I can’t believe that woman has enslaved you in less than fifteen minutes.”

  “No woman has ever managed to enslave me in fifteen minutes. Or fifteen hours.”

  It had taken Drew nearly fifteen days.

  “Why won’t you dance with any of these young men?” Dorothea Rutland asked her niece.

  “Because I don’t like any of them.”

  “How can you tell? If they even try to talk to you, you drive them off.”

  “They’re silly, boring, and I wouldn’t hire one of them to work on my ranch. I certainly wouldn’t consider marrying one of them.”

  “I’m not asking you to
marry them, just dance.”

  “I don’t like to dance.”

  “You’ve danced with that Cole Benton three times already. Any more, and people will start to gossip about you.”

  “I don’t care what they say. Besides, I’m just trying to make him feel comfortable. He’s more of an outsider than I am.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He’s a drifter. I don’t know how he got in here. Maybe his mother is a poor relation of some of your fancy friends.” Drew giggled. “I wonder if they knew she’d bring Cole.”

  “I could ask.”

  “Don’t. I’m not going to marry him either.”

  “I should hope not. If he’s a drifter, he could disappear one day.”

  Drew laughed. “You don’t know much about drifters, Aunt Dorothea. They can stick to a woman as long as she’s willing to spend her money on him and turn a blind eye to his catting around.”

  “I know he’s handsome, and he seems quite charming, but you don’t want a husband like that.”

  Drew laughed again, but this time the laugh wasn’t quite so easy. “I have no intention of falling in love with him. He just wandered into the show one night and wormed his way into my act.”

  Drew’s aunt looked horrified. “He’s one of your show people? I wonder if Doreen knows.” From her aunt’s reaction, you’d have thought Drew had accused Cole of being a swindler or a rapist.

  This time Drew’s laugh was genuine. “Have you noticed that a different young woman comes to fetch him every time he dances with me? I think somebody’s afraid we’ll discover who he is and tell everybody. Or maybe his creditors have followed him here. He spends money he doesn’t have without a blink.”

  At that moment Cole came through one of the doors on the opposite side of the room.

  “He’s coming this way,” her aunt said. “Do something, quick.”

  Dorothea sent out urgent and desperate signals to several men nearby to join them, but none seemed willing to risk another embarrassing dismissal, not even for the chance to dance with the niece of an obviously very wealthy woman. Cole reached them without competition.

  The whole evening had been rather confusing for Drew. She hadn’t wanted to come. She had intended to refuse every invitation to dance, but she hadn’t offered a single protest when Cole drew her to the dance floor. He wasn’t the tallest, most handsome, or most personable man in the room, but there wasn’t anyone whose company she preferred. And when he came through that doorway and headed in her direction without a moment’s hesitation, she had felt a surge of excitement, a flush of pleasure that was as unfamiliar as it was unwelcome.

  She could hide behind any excuse she wanted, but the bald truth was she was glad to see him again, even more pleased that he sought out her company rather than that of some beautiful, rich, and more socially acceptable young woman. She hadn’t expected to enjoy this evening. And with the exception of her dances with Cole, she hadn’t It was the exceptions that concerned her.

  “You can’t dance with my niece again,” Dorothea said the moment Cole reached them. “You’ll start people talking.”

  “I’m going to start them doing more than talking,” Cole said, taking Drew’s hand. “I’m going to start them speculating furiously.”

  “What are you talking about?” Drew asked.

  “Dance with me, and I’ll tell you.”

  Cole wasn’t acting the least bit like himself. On many occasions he’d been irreverent, irrational, or spontaneous, but he’d never looked harassed, harried, or reckless. Now he looked all three.

  “Young man, you can’t—”

  But Cole whisked Drew away to the strains of an energetic polka.

  “I can’t follow your steps,” Drew complained.

  “It doesn’t matter. We’re going outside as soon as we reach one of those doors.”

  The party was being held in a double salon that extended the length of one side of the house. Two sets of double doors opened onto the main hall. Cole danced Drew through the set nearest the front of the house.

  “Hot in there,” remarked one of the men smoking a cigar in the spacious hall.

  “Boiling,” Cole said as he danced Drew right on through the front door and onto the porch that ran across the front of the house.

  “It is cooler out here,” Drew said.

  “I’m not escaping the heat,” Cole said. “I’m escaping my mother and her endless string of potential brides.”

  “Do you mean they’d agree to marry you even though you’re a drifter?” She gave him a stern look. “You haven’t told them, have you?”

  Cole tugged at her hand until she followed him down the steps that curved on either side of the porch to the garden below. “I haven’t told anybody anything, because I’m not marrying any of them.”

  “Where are you taking me? My aunt will have a fit if I disappear.”

  “We’re not going out of the sound of the orchestra. I just want you to myself, where your aunt won’t be sending young men to break in on us and my mother can’t attack me with an armada of unmarried females.”

  Drew laughed. “Cole Benton, I never would have guessed it, but you’re a coward.”

  “If you’re trying to say I’m running away, you’re right.” He led her around the side of the house to the garden directly beneath the windows of the double salon. “Now we can dance without danger of being interrupted.”

  “I thought you didn’t like to dance.”

  “I was wrong. I love it.”

  He took her in his arms, and they began to move slowly through the moonlight and shadows of the garden.

  “I thought I didn’t like it either,” Drew said.

  “Confess, you like dancing with me.”

  Drew didn’t want to confess to such a weakness. It seemed to her that she’d already confessed far too much when it came to Cole Benton. She didn’t know why she shied away from this particular confession, but she didn’t trust him.

  “It’s not nearly as dull as I thought,” she said.

  “That’s not the answer I was looking for.”

  He suddenly picked her up and whirled her around.

  “That step’s not in this dance,” she said.

  “Give me an answer I like.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I feel desperate.”

  “Why?”

  “Can’t you guess?”

  “How can I? I don’t know your mother, or the women who’re supposedly chasing after you. I would have thought a man with your charm would be able to twist any woman around your little finger.”

  Cole paused in the dance. “You think I have charm?”

  “Yes. I’ve told you that”

  “No, you haven’t”

  “I’m sure I did.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Well, I’m telling you now. You’re charming, too much for your own good, I would guess.”

  He gave her a quick kiss, picked her up, and whirled her around. “What other attributes do I have that you’ve failed to mention?”

  “Stop that.”

  “I will when you answer my question.”

  “You’re a drifter, you—”

  “You’ve mentioned all the uncomplimentary ones far too often. Isn’t there something else you like about me?”

  That was part of her trouble. She could think of far too many things she liked about him. “I like it that you’re taller and stronger than I am.”

  “That’s not much.” He seemed offended. “Nearly every man is stronger and taller than a woman.”

  She was finding it difficult to think with him holding her so close, his face so close to hers, his lips …

  “Do you think I’m nice-looking?”

  “Ί suppose so.”

  “Is that the best you can do?”

  “If you ever meet my brothers, especially Will, you’ll understand.”

  “I never
tried to impress a woman with ten brothers and a perfect father before. Isn’t there anything I can do better than they can?”

  “No.”

  He looked devastated.

  “Yes, there is,” she said, glad to have thought of something. “You can think of better shooting tricks for me to perform. And I never knew anybody with a better understanding of what would work with an audience.”

  That didn’t appear to lift his spirits.

  “I don’t know you very well,” she said. “I’m sure if I did, I’d be able to come up with a dozen different things.”

  He grinned, and she was relieved to see the old Cole back. It bothered her to say things that hurt him.

  “Don’t talk,” Cole said. “Just dance with me.”

  “Don’t you think we ought to go back inside?”

  “No.”

  She began to feel uneasy. Cole wasn’t acting like himself. He made her think of a discontented lover.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you still worried about your mother sending those women after you?”

  “No.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I’m trying to figure out how to tell a woman who doesn’t like men, who doesn’t intend to get married, and who has ten brothers and a father who can do everything better than anyone else in the world, that I love her.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Drew felt as if she’d been butted in the ribs by an angry cow. Cole couldn’t be in love with her. Nobody had ever been in love with her. She wouldn’t allow it She didn’t want it. She had set her goals long ago, and she didn’t intend to let anything get in her way. Nor was she going to be deflected, even momentarily, by something as pointless as some man falling in love with her.

  “You can’t be,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  He kept dancing, faster and faster, so much faster she was having difficulty thinking. She needed time, space, quiet, stillness, and she had none of them.

  “I don’t want you to be in love with me.”

  “Too bad. I already am. Are you in love with me?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

 

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