When she faced the man who’d betrayed her, she would call upon every ounce of pride to keep from showing that her ability to love had been slain before it could grow beyond its infancy. Better it should happen now. It would cause terrible pain as soon as she got over the shock, but it wouldn’t hurt as much as if that love had been allowed to grow, as if she’d had time to build her life on it.
A boy stuck his head inside the tent.
“I’ve got your horse, Miss Townsend. It’s time to go on.”
Drew pulled her thoughts together. “I need more guns,” she said to Zeke.
“Why?” Hawk asked.
“I’m going to give them a show they’ll never forget. I’m not going to just hit every target. I’m going to make designs in them.”
She draped gun belts around her waist and over her shoulders until she looked like a guerrilla fighter.
“Hurry, Miss Townsend,” the boy urged. “Earl is about to give your cue.”
“Are my rifles on the table?” she asked the boy.
“Cole saw to it,” he said. “Please hurry. Earl will blame me if you’re late.”
“I won’t be late. Help me up,” she said to Zeke and Hawk. Each took an arm and lifted her effortlessly onto the back of the horse. “Get a good seat,” she told them as she heard Earl announcing her entrance. “This is going to be a show to remember.”
Cole had taught Drew the importance of paying attention to the fans, of trying to make a connection with them the moment she appeared. Drew was especially aware of them today. Though Overton was only a small town, the stands were full, mostly with women and children. Drew smiled and waved the first time around the ring. She wanted every woman in the stands to be cheering for her. As she circled around behind the targets, she got her guns ready.
She fired at all three targets in rapid succession, using four pistols, which she discarded the moment they were empty. The surprise on Cole’s face only made her feel more determined. How dare he act like he was innocent?
As she circled around once more, Cole held up the targets for the audience to see. The bullet holes spelled out RIP. The audience applauded enthusiastically. Instead of shooting the second round of targets Cole had set up, Drew slid off the horse.
“What are you doing?” Cole asked.
“Get the candles ready,” she said, and paraded around the ring smiling, waving, and graciously accepting the applause. She proceeded to go through the rest of her show, shooting candles and dozens of clay pigeons from every possible angle and position. She didn’t miss a single shot. But rather than end her show by hitting three clay pigeons at a time, she turned and fired another round of bullets into the targets. Cole, looking even more perplexed, held up the three targets. RUN.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.
“Giving you a warning, you lying, cheating bastard. If you don’t turn tail this very minute, I’m going to fill you full of holes right in front of this audience.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“About you coming here to prove I’m a robber,” she said, bowing and accepting the continuing applause, “about saying you loved me so I’d take you into my gang.”
She didn’t have to look up to know that piece of news had shaken him badly. Good. She motioned the audience to silence.
“Being able to shoot targets is fun,” she said to the thousands of smiling and admiring faces, “but the ability to use a gun ought to have a practical purpose.” Still facing the audience, she moved away from Cole. “Ladies, don’t leave all the shooting to your men. You might need it for defense. Or you might need it for hunting.” She checked her rifle to make sure it had a fully loaded magazine. “It’s also a great opportunity to get away from the cook stove and the washtub. No reason the men should have all the fun and call it work.”
A smattering of laughter came from the stands.
“But being able to shoot can be of particular advantage to you unmarried ladies. You can use it to drive off unwanted suitors.”
A quick shot put a hole in the crown of Cole’s hat. Cole looked stunned. The audience gasped, then laughed tentatively, as though unsure of what reaction was appropriate.
“It’s especially useful for rich girls plagued by men begging for the privilege of worshiping them forever when all they really want is their money.”
A barrage of shots sent Cole’s hat flying through the air.
“That’ll keep most of them away.”
Cole’s hand flew to his head, a startled expression on his face. The women in the audience laughed easily this time.
“But sometimes a man is particularly insistent,” Drew said. “Your father, brothers, or uncles might be able to scare him off. But just in case he needs a little more persuasion, it’s nice to be able to give it.”
Four quick shots ripped holes in the loose-fitting sleeve of Cole’s shirt. He backed up a couple of steps, fingered the tattered bits of his shirt, and looked in disbelief at Drew.
“What the hell are you trying to do?” he asked.
“But the worst kind of polecat,” Drew said, still facing the audience, “is the man who comes pretending to do one thing when he’s trying to do something altogether different. For example, a man who says he wants your help in solving a crime when he’s really trying to convict you of it. He’s the worst kind.”
She turned and fired twice. Cole’s belt buckle shattered and flew through the air. Cole grabbed at his pants. The spectators, men included, laughed heartily.
“I told my boss you didn’t pull off those robberies,” he said. “I made him let me come back so I could clear your name.”
“A man like that will say anything to gain your confidence,” Drew called out, now looking directly at Cole, who stood about twenty feet away. “If he lies about one thing, he’ll lie about everything.”
Several shots tugged at the other sleeve of Cole’s shirt.
“I didn’t lie about loving you,” he said.
More shots tugged at his pants. Cole’s clothes were shot to ribbons.
“And he’ll keep lying until you believe him,” Drew said. “A girl ought to be allowed to kill a skunk like that.” More shots. “It ought to be legal for her brothers to bury his body deep or dump it into the river. Unfortunately, our laws are made by men, and a woman is not allowed to murder a shiftless rat, but she can scare the life out of him if she knows how to use a gun.”
More shots. They were almost a steady tattoo now.
“I was sent here to collect evidence against you,” Cole said, “but it didn’t take long before I knew you couldn’t have had anything to do with the robberies.”
Drew had expected the sudden onslaught of bullets to send Cole running for cover. By now she’d reduced his clothes to tatters, the frayed edges as well as his untouched body a testament to her skill. But he just stood there, looking straight into her eyes, as if the bullets she was shooting at him weren’t any more dangerous than a mosquito he’d slap away without a thought.
“I was going to tell you later, once we’d discovered who was really behind the robberies.”
We! How dare he pretend he’d ever intended to take her into his confidence, to allow her to share in his investigation. He’d lied and manipulated her from the very beginning. Even telling her he was an undercover agent had worked to his advantage. She no longer believed he was a liar and a drifter. She’d actually thought he was noble, willing to risk his life so ordinary people might enjoy their freedom and feel safe in their homes.
He’d convinced her he loved her, that she was the most important person in the whole world. She’d have told him anything, done anything, believed anything, because she thought he loved her. He’d seen through her pretense, discovered she wanted love—was only waiting to be convinced she was loved before giving herself wholeheartedly to him—a weakness she didn’t know she had. He’d pursued that weakness with the persistence of a fox after its next meal. He’d probably even arranged f
or the steamboat to run in to the sandbar and toss them into the water so he could save her. He must have known that after that, she’d believe anything he said.
“If you can’t hurt a man’s body, you can hurt his pride,” Drew said.
Moving quickly, she maneuvered around Cole until she could get a clear shot at his boots. She shot the heels off both boots. Cole staggered, lost his balance, and sat down in the dust.
“After that, he’ll leave you alone,” Drew said. She waved and smiled at the audience. The spectators jumped to their feet, cheering wildly.
“I’ll never leave you alone,” Cole said.
“If you ever come near me again, I will kill you.” Drew waved one last time and ran from the arena. She nearly stumbled into the side of a tent. Her eyes were blinded by tears.
Chapter Twenty-two
“I don’t want to be in love,” Drew sobbed in Isabelle’s arms. “I hate it.”
“You’d like it well enough if the man you loved loved you in return,” Isabelle said.
“Even then it’s an uncomfortable condition,” Rose Randolph said. “It makes you do things you’d rather not.”
“But you love your husband,” Drew said, lifting her head.
“To distraction,” Rose said.
“Then how can you say it’s uncomfortable?”
“A woman distracted is not a woman in full possession of her reason,” Rose said. “No matter how strong your convictions or your principles, you want to please your husband more than anything in the world. I find myself wanting to hit him over the head just about as often as I want him to make love to me. Isn’t that true, Isabelle?”
Isabelle laughed. “Drew’s heard Jake and me argue our whole married life.” She kissed Drew’s forehead. “But she knows I wouldn’t trade one minute of it for the most biddable husband in the world.”
“Nor would I trade George,” Rose agreed. “However, if you know anybody willing to take a few of his brothers, I’d be happy to talk to them.”
Drew had been back at the Broken Circle for three days, and she’d spent every one of them behaving like the kind of female she most despised. She’d cried and pouted and moped and sniffled. She’d been alternately angry with everyone and begging their pardon. She had no appetite and was starved to death, didn’t want to see anyone and couldn’t stand to be alone. She blamed Hawk and Zeke for not going with her on the steamboat, then defended them when Jake came down hard on them.
Half the time she wanted to see Cole more than anything in the world. The other half she swore if he ever showed his face again, she’d fill him with so many bullet holes, he’d practically disappear.
Rose Randolph and her husband George were spending a few days with Jake and Isabelle before all four left for New Orleans. They would travel to Corpus Christi and take a boat from there. Jake and George had spent most of their time riding over the ranch and talking cows. Hawk and Zeke had hovered between Drew and Jake, never feeling comfortable in either place but feeling guilty no matter where they were. Drew swore she’d never go back to the Wild West Show. Instead, she’d use what money she had to buy a ranch. It wouldn’t be as big or as well stocked as she’d hoped, but she’d build it up. Zeke and Hawk offered to stay and help her.
But having confessed her foolishness to Isabelle and having decided what to do with her future hadn’t brought Drew the relief she’d hoped for. Everything felt wrong, and it was all Cole Benton’s fault. If she ever saw him again she would fill him full of bullet holes.
“You have to make up your mind what you want,” Isabelle said. “Either you want this man or you don’t.”
Drew sat up straight in her porch chair. “I don’t want him!” she said, indignant Isabelle could think she would even consider speaking to Cole, much less taking him back. “I can’t be in love with a man who has lied to me.”
“Of course you can,” Rose said. “Women do it all the time.”
“Well, I can’t. And I wouldn’t if I could.”
“Fine. Then put him out of your mind and start thinking about what land would make the best grazing.”
Drew had always liked Rose Randolph. She was a strong woman who didn’t put up with any nonsense from anybody, especially men. It was a shock to discover she was apparently completely lacking in feminine understanding. How could she possibly talk about Drew’s broken heart as though merely saying she didn’t love Cole would cause all the hurt to go away, the feeling of betrayal to vanish? She was surprised Rose and Isabelle had been friends for so long.
“I agree with Rose,” Isabelle said. “If you don’t care for this man any longer—”
“I don’t!”
“—and you don’t think your relationship can be rescued—”
“I wouldn’t want it if it could!”
“—then it’s time to forget about him and focus your mind on your ranch.”
Drew pulled away from Isabelle. It seemed neither woman could understand how she felt. They were both happily married to men they adored. They’d never been in love with anyone else, particularly not a man who’d won their love under false pretenses. Maybe Drew should have gone to stay with Marina instead. Even though she and Ward were happily married, there’d been a time when each thought they’d been betrayed by the other. Marina must remember what it was like to have a broken heart and know having her own ranch with all the cows and horses in the world couldn’t fix it.
But Marina had a new baby. Isabelle said it wasn’t fair for anybody to dump their troubles on Marina just now.
“I think you ought to start making plans for your ranch right away,” Isabelle said. “Hawk and Zeke aren’t going to stay around here forever. You’d better make use of them while you can.”
“It’ll give you something to occupy your mind,” Rose said.
Drew decided she might as well have ridden out with the men. They couldn’t have given her less sympathy and understanding.
“Looks like one of the men is coming back already,” Rose said, indicating a rider in the distance.
“I’d know Jake and the boys at any distance,” Isabelle said. “That’s a stranger.”
Drew looked up and her body went rigid. That wasn’t a stranger. It was Cole!
She jumped to her feet, her body poised for flight—or to run straight into his arms.
She was disgusted with herself to know that her first response had been joy that he had followed her, hope he still loved her, and a willingness to do anything if he would only love her again. She had always considered herself a sensible woman, not subject to the volatile and foolish emotions that afflicted the average female. She could deal with men on an equal basis.
Yet here she was acting like the silliest of females, ready to throw herself at the man who’d lied to her, betrayed her love, broken her heart. She wouldn’t be fooled again by Cole Benton. She wouldn’t! She ran into the house.
“Who is that man?” Rose asked.
“I don’t know,” Isabelle said, looking at the house and then back at the approaching horseman. “But if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say it was Cole Benton.”
Drew emerged from the house with a rifle.
Isabelle winked at Rose. “It’s definitely Cole Benton.”
“What are you going to do?” Rose asked Isabelle.
“Nothing.”
Drew suspected she saw Rose smile.
“If you don’t want to see him killed right before your eyes, you’ll tell him to leave,” Drew said.
“You know we always offer hospitality to strangers,” Isabelle said.
“George likes it when a stranger rides in,” Rose said. “It’s a chance to get some news.”
“He doesn’t know any news,” Drew said. “Besides, everything he says is lies.”
“Do you know him?” Isabelle asked. Her expression was blank.
“That’s Cole Benton, and you know it,” Drew said, not mincing words. “You want to meet him, fine. But you’d better pick out a burial spot. He won�
�t be around long enough for dinner.”
Drew lifted the rifle to her shoulder and fired a shot into the ground in front of Cole’s horse. The animal reared. Cole got him under control again and kept coming.
“Turn around,” Drew called, “or I’ll shoot you out of the saddle.”
When he kept coming, she fired two shots that sent his hat spinning into the wind. Cole acted like he didn’t even notice.
“Drew’s a spectacular shot,” Isabelle explained to Rose. “She could shoot the buttons off his shirt and not singe the material.”
“I’m relieved to know that,” Rose said. “I was thinking that young man was either a great fool or too much in love to value his own hide.”
“His own hide is all he thinks about,” Drew snapped.
She fired more shots into the ground before the horse. The animal reared again. He became so agitated, Cole dismounted, left him ground-hitched, and continued forward on foot.
Drew proceeded to riddle Cole’s clothes with bullets.
“I thought Hen was a good shot,” Rose said. “He can’t hold a candle to this child.”
“It’s a gift,” Isabelle said. “She could shoot better than the boys from the start. It used to make Luke so furious he refused to shoot against her.”
Drew felt deserted by everyone who should have cared for her. Jake and the boys were out entertaining George. Isabelle and Rose didn’t seemed to be the least concerned that the cause of all her misery was rapidly drawing near. Cole didn’t have the good sense to know he wasn’t wanted. She raised her rifle again.
“You might as well quit shooting at me,” Cole said. “I didn’t run the first time, and I’m not going to do it now.”
“She shot at you before?” Isabelle asked.
“In front of five thousand people,” Cole said. “I looked like a rag doll. She even shot the heels off my boots. Caused me to fall down in front of all those people. It was humiliating, ma’am.”
Drew (The Cowboys) Page 28