Drew (The Cowboys)

by Leigh Greenwood

  Drew started to tell him she didn’t want any of that, but she didn’t, because it wasn’t entirely true. She did want recognition for her skill; she did want people to know she was the very best; she did want them to flock to see her. She just didn’t want to have to deal with the results of fame.

  What irritated her the most was that Cole Benton had orchestrated this whole publicity campaign without her approval. He’d made it impossible for her to refuse without seeming ungrateful for her good fortune and indifferent to what was best for the show and the other performers.

  But maybe the most unsettling aspect of this was the way her feelings for Cole were changing. She was tired of being bossed around, of having him come up with things he thought were good for her act and practically forcing them on her. She was tired of having her comfortable pattern of life constantly overturned by his unbounded enthusiasm for turning her into a famous sharpshooter.

  But if she was honest—and she made a practice of being honest no matter how much she disliked it—she was starting to like having him around. It infuriated her, but she couldn’t stop herself. She might be irritated by his interference, but she kept putting up with it. She might say she didn’t want to have to put up with his attention, remember his smile, or respond to his charm, but she did.

  “I suppose my feelings about this are contradictory,” she said, “but let me try to explain my reaction.” She could tell from his expression he expected some sort of rebuff.

  “I do want recognition.” She couldn’t help smiling. “My brothers say I like lording it over them, that I can’t resist showing off when I can do something better than they can. It’s true. I’m naturally bossy, and being able to do things better than they can made me feel I had the right to tell them what to do. They spoiled me. They let me get away with it so often I got used to being the boss. So you can see why I’m not happy to have you come in and take my own act out of my hands.”

  “I’m only trying—”

  “I know what you’re trying to do. I like it when I’m in the arena. I don’t like it when I’m not. I realize that’s my problem, not yours, but it’s the way it is. You’re pushing me along so fast I can’t decide if I want to go along or not. This may be just an act, only part of the show, but it’s my act. I want to control it.”

  “Earl told me you’d be glad I was doing all this, that you were too shy to do it yourself.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “Nobody in my family would call me shy, but I do like my privacy. I also want to be in control of my own life. I saw what happened to my parents. I’ll never let it happen to me.”

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  He looked so adorable when he was being contrite. She wanted to cradle his head and tell him everything would be all right. Only she was certain if she did anything so unwise, nothing would be all right Why did useless, good-for-nothing drifters have to have so much charm? Why did he have to be so tall, so strong, so good-looking?

  “Maybe you ought to choose another performer to make famous. I’m going to quit as soon as I get enough money for my ranch. The more famous you make me, and the more money Earl has to pay me, the sooner that will be.” She sighed in resignation. “At least ask me before you do something else.”

  That odd expression was back, the one that seemed to say he was hurt she didn’t understand and appreciate what he was doing, that said he didn’t believe a word she was saying. His look implied he didn’t like something about what was happening; it hinted at even more important feelings. But that was always the way with Cole. She could never tell what he was really feeling, nor could she trust what he said to reflect his feelings.

  “Okay, I promise to ask. But I don’t promise not to push a little when it’s something I think is important.”

  “I’ll accept that.”

  “In return, you’ve got to stop keeping me at a distance.”

  She felt herself bridle. “What do you mean?”

  “You avoid me. You won’t talk to me unless I corner you. You disappear every chance you get. If we’re going to work together, we’ve got to get to know each other so well that each of us can anticipate what the other is thinking.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’ll make the act work better.”

  She wasn’t sure she trusted that to be his only motive. “It’s going just fine as it is.”

  “You heard what that woman said. She was delighted to think we were married, or at least interested in each other.”

  “But we aren’t.” She wasn’t interested. Just curious. That was natural.

  “I know, but people like to think they see a romance developing, especially between performers. It makes it more exciting.”

  “I’m not going to pretend to be mooning over you.”

  “I don’t mean anything like that, just to smile at each other occasionally, like when you make a really spectacular shot.”

  “I always make spectacular shots.”

  “I know that, but the spectators don’t. It’ll be more fun for them if they think I’m as proud of you as they are.”

  Are you? The words nearly jumped out of her mouth. She choked them back, horrified she would even think them. “I don’t see why that’s necessary.”

  “Let’s try it tonight and see how it works. If you don’t get a better response, I won’t say another word about it.”

  “Just what do you expect me to do?” She was on tricky ground. She wasn’t used to this man-woman thing, but she had enough sense to know if you let a barrier down, it was going to be hard to put it back up again. She needed to keep big roadblocks between her and Cole. She didn’t understand it, and she was very disappointed in herself, but she was definitely falling victim to his charm.

  And Drew Townsend didn’t like being a victim.

  “Just smile at me,” Cole said. “Speak to me between tricks, maybe even mention my name, saying you appreciate my help in performing your tricks.”

  That didn’t seem like too much. It shouldn’t be dangerous. “Okay, but a smile is all you’re going to get.”

  Drew had thought Cole would stick to his role as helper. He didn’t. He played to the audience shamelessly. He dressed up so smartly you’d have thought he was going to a society party rather than appearing in a wild west show. It soon became obvious the women in the audience were paying more attention to him than to her.

  She couldn’t blame them for being unable to do what she couldn’t do herself—take her eyes off Cole. She’d been around very handsome men ever since she was adopted, so she couldn’t explain why she should be so attracted to Cole. True, he was tall, slim-bodied, and strong, but so was nearly every man in the show. Cole looked like a cowboy without the rough edge, an idealized version of the real thing. His hair was cut perfectly, he shaved every day, his clothes were clean and neat. The show was full of cowboys with the shaggy look. Cole stood out by comparison Okay, he had a million-dollar smile and a dapper appearance, but looks didn’t make the man. Neither did broad shoulders, narrow hips, or well muscled legs. The clothes he had on tonight fitted him nearly as closely as his skin. If she attempted to wear anything that tight, Zeke would lock her in her room. He was worse than Jake when it came to reminding her she was a lady and ought to dress and act like one. She didn’t know what had happened to him when he was a slave—he wouldn’t talk about that part of his life—but it had turned him into a puritan.

  “You sure you want that man to catch you?” Zeke asked two days earlier.

  That man was Cole.

  “No, but there’s no point in your having to run to be ready for your entrance.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I do. So does Earl. If it doesn’t work, I’ll let you do it, or I’ll go back to entering like I used to.”

  “Horseback is better.”

  Everybody said that. People always talked during the show, but the noise dropped in half when she entered the ring standing on a horse. Parents pointed for their child
ren to watch. Even the women turned their gazes from Cole. Everyone applauded when she hit the bull’s-eyes while on horseback. Their applause grew much louder when Cole held up the targets so they could see she hit them all dead center. Their applause was even greater the second time, still greater when she put out all three candles.

  Then, without warning, she jumped into the air and came down in Cole’s arms. There was a sudden, swift intake of breath in the audience when she jumped straight into the air. A moment of silence when she landed in Cole’s arms, then a vigorous outbreak of applause. Some people even whistled and hooted.

  Finding herself in Cole’s embrace was just as much of a shock as it had been the first time. It was all Drew could do to remember that she had a show to do. She had prepared herself for the sensation of his arms around her, her body held tightly against his, but she hadn’t prepared herself for the brilliance of his smile. That went straight to her belly and started a quivering flutter that threatened to incapacitate her.

  Drawing on all her strength of mind, Drew tore her attention from Cole’s face and back to the audience.

  “Let me down,” she hissed when he didn’t immediately set her on the ground. “You’re not supposed to carry me about like a trophy.”

  “Have dinner with me tonight.”

  She couldn’t decide whether she was more shocked he was asking her to have dinner with him or that he was doing it in the middle of her act.

  “This is no place to ask such a question.”

  “It’s the only place I can get you to agree.”

  “This is blackmail.”

  “I know.”

  She tried to get her arms free, but he held her too tightly.

  “If you don’t let me down immediately,” she said, doing her best to smile at the audience, “I’m going to make a target out of you instead of those clay pigeons.”

  “Promise.”

  “I’ll consider it.”

  Cole paraded her about the ring like a prize doll. “She’s such a little thing,” he shouted out to the audience. “Who’d guess she could shoot like she can?”

  “Put me down!” Drew hissed.

  “Promise?”

  “No.”

  “She’s light enough to catch easily.”

  The heartless beast tossed her into the air and caught her again.

  “Promise?”

  “I’ll kill you,” she said, so angry she couldn’t smile.

  “Want me to toss her again?” Cole asked the audience. “She might get dizzy, but she can still shoot the eyes out of a squirrel.”

  “Toss me again, and I’ll shoot your eyes out.”

  The audience was laughing, applauding, calling for Cole to toss her into the air again.

  “Promise?”

  “Okay, but I swear I’ll get you back for this.”

  Cole set her down. “We have to get on with the show,” he told the audience.

  Drew went through her act at breakneck speed. Every time she took aim, she thought of Cole. When she tried the very difficult shot of putting out lighted candles on a revolving table, she thought of Cole. When she shot three clay pigeons in the air at once, she thought of Cole.

  She didn’t miss a single shot.

  Performing a flawless routine was easier than having dinner with him was going to be.

  Chapter Nine

  “I haven’t forgiven you,” Drew said.

  “I know,” Cole said. They had finished their meal and were enjoying coffee and brandy.

  “I will get my revenge.”

  “I know that, too.”

  Cole had had a buckboard waiting outside the arena when they finished their act. The minute they reached the hotel she had stalked off to her room without a word. Once inside with the door locked, she’d paced back and forth, calling Cole every name she’d ever learned from her brothers, calling herself nearly as many for being fool enough to cave in to the pressure and being an even bigger fool to actually consider honoring a promise forced from her.

  First she decided to stay in her room for the evening, but that made her angry because she was being punished for something Cole had done. Next she decided to wait for Zeke and Hawk before she had dinner. But she wouldn’t put it past Cole to have told them they needn’t bother to return to the hotel until later. In the end she was so full of things she wanted to say to Cole, names she wanted to call him if she lost her temper sufficiently to forget she’d been brought up a lady, she decided to have dinner with him after all. It was the only way she could work off her ire.

  “What you did was cowardly. No gentleman would expect a woman to honor a promise extracted under such conditions.”

  “I know.”

  “It proves you’re not a man of character.”

  “I know that, too.”

  It made her furious that he just sat there, smiling like he was as happy as a calf in clover, letting her say anything she pleased, and agreeing with her.

  Even the hotel dining room contributed to her irritation. It was a dull little room, the walls covered in a dark wallpaper featuring exotic flowers and vinelike foliage, all made darker by the passage of time and a film of soot and grease. The two pictures of hunting scenes did nothing to improve her appetite. The diners sat in ladder-back chairs and ate at small tables so close together the waitress’s skirt brushed against Drew every time she passed. The fact the room was full of diners, all talking, made it impossible to achieve any feeling of privacy.

  “How can you let me say all these things?” Drew demanded.

  “Because they’re true.”

  “Don’t you care?”

  “Only if you do.”

  “Of course I care. I mean, I would if I liked you, which I don’t. I couldn’t possibly like a man lacking in honor. That is, if I were the kind of woman to go around liking men, which I’m not.”

  “What’s wrong with men?”

  “They’re men.”

  “I thought that was our advantage.”

  “It would have been if you’d been created more useful and dependable than a wild stallion eating locoweed.”

  “You like your brothers.”

  “They’ve got their shortcomings, but Isabelle never put up with foolishness. I’m not sure she could have done much with you, but she’d certainly have taught you not to extract promises from women when you had them at a disadvantage. That’s a very ungentlemanly thing to do.”

  “I know.”

  She brought her hand down on the table with a bang. “Stop agreeing with me!” She was aware of an abrupt silence, of everyone in the hotel dining room looking at her. “It makes it impossible to get mad at you,” she said in a softer voice.

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

  “I do. You deserve for me to be furious. And I am.”

  “Will you stop being furious if I agree I’m the most unprincipled scoundrel in the world and most abjectly beg your apology?”

  “You needn’t go to the trouble,” she said, disgusted. “I’d know you didn’t mean it. You’d do it again if you had to.”

  He grinned that insolent, devil-may-care grin. “Damned right.”

  “Why would you do that?” It didn’t make sense to her. He didn’t seem like a flirt, despite the fact he was a drifter and they usually had no qualms about making promises they didn’t intend to keep.

  “I like talking to you,” Cole said.

  “Nobody likes talking to me,” Drew said. “I’m bossy, argumentative, and I’m always right. Even my family ducks when they see me coming.”

  He laughed. “Really?”

  She wished she hadn’t told him that. It made her feel too vulnerable. “They say they already have one mother and don’t need another.”

  “I would consider that a compliment.”

  “You wouldn’t if you were me. It means I’m a pain in the—Isabelle told me I wasn’t to use that word ever again.”

  “And you do what she says?”

  She hesit
ated. “Most of the time. If she found out I used that word, she’d do something terrible. Isabelle was raised a lady, but she can think of awful things to do when people don’t do what she wants.”

  “She sounds like a tyrant you’re well rid of.”

  Drew took offense. “Isabelle is a wonderful person. I couldn’t have had a better mother.”

  Cole looked dubious.

  “I still want to know why you insisted we have dinner,” Drew said, getting back to her original question.

  “I told you, I like talking to you. I like the stories you tell. I never heard of any family like yours.”

  “What you mean is you don’t believe my stories.”

  “Did I say that?”

  “No, but I can see it in your eyes. Come on, why did you invite me to dinner? I can’t imagine where you got the money. I know Earl doesn’t pay you very much.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Earl. It’s my money. I want to talk about you.”

  “What about me?”

  “Anything.”

  “I’ve already told you everything there is to know.”

  “What are you going to do when you get your ranch? Myrtle said you’d invited her to retire there.”

  She’d invited several of the older people to live on her ranch when she discovered they hadn’t saved any money and would be destitute, but she didn’t want Cole to know about it. It made her seem soft and foolish, exactly what he expected of a female who didn’t have enough sense to know you couldn’t make a success of a ranch burdened by a crowd of old, useless hangers-on.

  “My family raises cattle. I expect I’ll do the same.”

  “Suppose your husband wants to do something else?”

  “I’m not getting married.”

  “Why not? Did somebody jilt you?”

  “If he had, he’d be dead,” Drew snapped before she had time to realize her reaction made it sound like she had been jilted and was still furious about it.