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She laughed. “Perhaps. I’m not as free with them as you are.”
“A challenge. I like that.” He was feeling better about his offer now. Rebecca Barrett was quick-witted and beautiful. It was an evening he was looking forward to.
“Let me show you Joey’s apartment.”
She took him through the barn, her slim form preceding his as they examined the stalls and climbed to the loft. Still chatting easily, they walked back to Blackthorn and to the site where the framework of the new house stood in stark relief against the sky.
Dru looked to the west where he could see the broad band of the Mississippi River sweeping by. Just slightly south, downriver, was the town of Natchez. He loved this land, this area.
“You look like you’ve just found home,” Rebecca said.
“Home in the sense of this whole county,” Dru said, sweeping his hand to include the entire vista. “I’ve never aspired to owning Blackthorn, but I’m glad to be friends with the owners. I hope to be invited to dinner often.”
Rebecca showed him the house plans. He spoke of the verandas and the plants, enthusiastic about the landscaping of the yard.
“You sound like you’d make a fair landscape architect if you ever decided to give up the law,” Rebecca said.
“I was trained in that field. That was my career ambition, but my dad was sheriff, and when his health failed, I sort of inherited the office. Then I got elected,” he said, shrugging, feeling the heat creep into his cheeks.
“And they just keep electing you,” Rebecca said, grinning with a bit of an imp in her eyes.
“Something like that.”
“You must do a good job.”
“Now that’s a matter of opinion, but I do love my work. Most of the time. There are always those hard cases when you have to prosecute someone you know and like. Thank goodness those don’t happen often.”
There was the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel behind them and Marcus turned to see a man with angry gray eyes headed for them.
“I told you to keep that simpleton away from me. He’s spilled a wheelbarrow of manure right in the middle of an excavation that took me three days.”
Rebecca lifted an eyebrow. “Brett Gibson, this is Sheriff Dru Colson. Sheriff, Brett is working on the excavation of the Indian mound with some help from John Ittawasa.”
Dru felt an instant dislike for Brett. Part of it was the man’s arrogant demeanor, but the other part was the tiniest edge of contempt he leveled at Rebecca.
“Mr. Ittawasa isn’t helping me,” Brett snapped. “He’s here to make sure no one steals any of the artifacts. Including me and my team.”
“John is a good man,” Dru said carefully. “He loves the history of his people far more than anyone else. I’m sure he’s very excited to see what you find.”
“Right,” Brett said. “So what are you going to do about that—”
“Stop it, Brett. Don’t say that word!”
Dru felt Rebecca tense beside him, and he was aware of her hands clenching. She wanted to slug the arrogant fool, and Dru thought he might help her.
“I’ve told you not to refer to Joey in those terms,” she said evenly. “If he’s made a mistake, I’ll correct it.”
“You’d better put a leash on that boy and keep him out of my way.”
“Or what?” Dru asked conversationally, but with enough ice that it stopped Brett in his tracks. Dru saw his true colors. He’d rage and try to intimidate Rebecca, but he wouldn’t stand up to Dru or what stood behind him—the law.
“Or nothing. I’ll quit,” Brett said.
“None of my business, but I have to point out that might not be such a bad idea,” Dru said. Suddenly, he’d developed a case of loose tongue. Twice in the past half hour he’d said exactly what he was thinking.
Brett glared at the sheriff and walked away.
Rebecca turned to Dru with a rueful grin on her face. “He’s good at his job, just a little prickly.”
“Yes, something like that. He needs a few Southern manners.”
“He’s got a good crew, let me introduce you.”
Dru followed Rebecca to the mound where three men were gently brushing dirt away from what looked like a series of clay vessels.
“Tony Wells, Rich Tanner, and Carlos Liotta,” Rebecca said, introducing Dru. A woman carrying bottled water came trudging up the slope. “And this is—”
“Regina Batson,” Dru said, smiling. “I saw your dad last week and he told me how proud he is that you’re working with him. He said you were taking a break from school for a while but that you should have your degree soon.”
“I helped with the design of the estate,” Regina said, “and then I became interested in the dig. You know, everyone’s heard about Blackthorn. Brett and Rebecca said I could help out with the excavation. Who knows, we might find more treasure.” Her eyes crinkled with laughter.
“Yeah, we heard about that treasure. And we heard about the trouble out here before we came,” Rich said, standing up. He was tall, lanky, and the sweat had soaked his hair so that it stuck to his face. “Do you suppose there’s more treasure?”
Dru laughed. “Sorry boys, you’re about three months too late.”
Rich nodded. “Story of my life. Day late and a dollar short.” He glanced around. “Still, no harm in looking, I suppose.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not true,” Rebecca said instantly. “Brett is excavating the burial mound and that small area at the base of it. Digging elsewhere is prohibited.”
Rich glanced at his two friends. “Whatever you say, boss lady.” He grinned, and there was no malice in his tone.
“Thanks,” Rebecca said. “I’m only following the directives given to me by the owners.”
Dru took his farewells of the men and headed back to his patrol car. He’d been eager to get out of the sheriff’s office when he’d taken the call to Blackthorn. It had been his best decision in weeks.
“Regina Batson is certainly an interesting addition to the team,” Rebecca said lightly. “When she’s around, Brett makes an effort not to be a total bear.”
“Thank goodness someone has a positive effect on him.” Dru shrugged one shoulder. “May I pick you up at seven?” he asked.
“Perfect. Casual?”
There was such hope in her voice that he laughed. “Casual it is. Seafood.”
She smiled. “I’ll be ready.”
CHAPTER TWO
REBECCA WAS GLAD she’d chosen the yellow sundress. Sitting on the dock of the restaurant with a gentle breeze from the Mississippi, she felt sexy and feminine. It was impossible not to, the way Dru Colson was looking at her.
“Why aren’t you married?” Dru asked.
Rebecca laughingly held out her wrists. “Are you going to arrest me before you interrogate me?”
Dru laughed too, but a little self-consciously. “Sorry. I guess that did come out a little on the gruff side.”
“Not gruff, just direct,” Rebecca said. She bit her lip as she decided how much to tell him. “I was engaged. Last year. The wedding was planned, everything.” She hesitated, but she could see in his eyes that he would ask. He wasn’t a man who held back on the questions. “I cancelled the wedding, but Mike didn’t object too strenuously. I think we’d both begun to see that we weren’t meant for each other. We just wanted different things.”
“Like children?” Dru asked.
“Yes.”
“I know exactly how that goes,” he said ruefully. “Celeste, the woman I was involved with for five years, finally gave me the ultimatum—marriage and kids or she was leaving.”
She could see that he still struggled with the loss. “Mike was the same way. He just couldn’t believe that I didn’t want to settle down and start a family.”
Dru’s eyebrows lifted. “You didn’t want the children?”
“Yes, that’s right.” She couldn’t help a wry grin as she realized how shocked he was. It was true. Most women wanted to start families when they were in their late twenties and early thirties. “It isn’t that I don’t like children, it’s just that…” She broke it off. It was impossible to explain. Mike’s mother had said she was unnatural. Mrs. Cuevas had been very angry with Rebecca, and she’d let everyone know it.
“Hey,” Dru said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I understand. I love my nieces and nephews, but I’m just not ready to take on that responsibility. I don’t know that I’ll ever be, and I won’t be railroaded into something that important to please someone else.”
“Exactly!” Rebecca said, and she felt as if Dru did understand. She’d been the eldest of seven children, and all of her life had been spent taking care of others. Once she got out of college, she’d vowed to live her own life for at least fifteen years before she began living for someone else.
“Another drink?”
She looked at the empty Long Island iced tea glass. The drinks were delicious, but potent. She’d never been one to deliberately set herself up for a headache. “Better not.”
“Coffee?”
“That would be great.” She found she wanted to linger on the restaurant’s dock with Dru. They’d spent the entire evening talking about Natchez and Blackthorn and the mound-building Indians who were now the focus of Brett Gibson’s research in Natchez.
As the waitress placed the coffee on the wrought-iron table, Rebecca refastened the elastic band around her honey-colored hair. She’d begun the evening with it down on her shoulders, but the wind whipping off the water had sent it flying. The only solution was scissors or restraint.
“This has been the most relaxing evening I’ve had in months,” Dru said.
“Me, too. Thanks for asking me. Maybe Joey will let me borrow his newfangled kitchen to cook a meal for all of us.”
“I’d like that,” Dru said.
They sipped their coffee and let the warm night sounds drift around them. It was unusual to spend only one evening with a man and feel comfortable enough not to force the conversation. But Dru was different from most men she’d known. He had a quiet confidence that allowed her to relax—to drop the role of hostess and caretaker that had been hers since she was a child.
“Why don’t we leave here and go under the hill?” Dru asked with a grin.
“Under the hill?” Rebecca wasn’t certain what he was talking about. “A cave?”
“It’s a part of town that used to be wide open. Sort of the French Quarter of Natchez,” he said, “like the older part of New Orleans. Back in the days when Natchez was a booming river town, all of the best bars and gambling dens were located ‘under the hill’ or down on the water. It was a rowdy place known for its lawlessness and danger.”
“Until you were elected sheriff?” she asked innocently.
“I’m not quite that old,” he said, pretending to be wounded. “But if I can use my cane, I think I can dance a few numbers with you.”
“I haven’t danced in…a long time,” Rebecca admitted. How long had it been? College? Surely not, but she couldn’t recall another time.
“You don’t forget,” he said. “I have a dirty little secret to tell you if you agree to go.”
“My, my, a lawman who bribes,” she said. “Okay, let’s go. You’ve got my curiosity working overtime.” It was true. Just the hint of a secret was enough to whet her appetite. Dru was only jesting, but it was very effective.
They drove down a street that seemed to drop almost to the water’s edge. As Dru parked the car, Rebecca could already hear the music and laughter coming from several restaurants and bars.
“Sounds young,” she said, a little nervously. She wasn’t thirty, yet she often felt much older.
“Not where we’re going. That’s my dirty secret. When I broke up with Celeste, I was so depressed the deputies got together and paid for some ballroom dancing lessons. I discovered that I liked it.”
“No!” Rebecca was shocked. Dru, in his cowboy boots and jeans didn’t look a whit like someone who would tango or rumba. But then, what, exactly, would someone who could do those things look like? “I don’t know how to do those dances,” she said.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I learned that the man’s job is to make the woman look good.”
They entered a restaurant and Dru led her down a flight of steps to a small bar where a woman in a sequined gown sang as a half dozen couples danced.
Before she could muster a protest, he pulled her into his arms and began waltzing her around the floor. “Relax,” he said. “Just relax, feel the music and let me lead.”
“Easier said than done,” she said, trying so hard to relax that she made herself stiff all over again. But in a few moments, she picked up the rhythm. When she did so, Dru began to move more freely around the dance floor with her. After one or two faltering steps, she adapted to his lead. In only a few moments, they were dancing like old partners.
“See, I told you it’s easy,” he said, putting her into a turn and bringing her back into his arms.
“Only because you make it easy,” she said, grinning widely. “This is great.”
Dru ordered drinks, and they sipped them in between dancing each number. Rebecca was shocked when she looked down at her watch and saw that it was after two in the morning. “I should go home,” she said a little breathlessly.
“Me, too,” Dru said reluctantly. “The night just got away from us.”
He was paying the tab when his cell phone rang. Frowning, he answered it, waving to Rebecca that he was going outside to talk. She should collect his change.
The expression on his face had her worried as she accepted the bills from the cashier and hurried up the steps and into the warm night.
“Ms. Barrett is with me,” Dru was saying. “I’ll escort her home and check it out. No, don’t worry about it. You did the right thing by calling.”
He put the phone away and turned to face her. “There’s been some trouble at Blackthorn,” he said. “I’ll take you there right away.”
DRU SAW the flashing lights of the ambulance and pulled up behind it. Beside him, Rebecca looked alabaster she was so pale. She didn’t even wait for the car to stop. She got out and ran to the back of the ambulance where two attendants were loading Joey Reynolds.
“Joey,” Rebecca said, grasping his hand. The young man was unconscious. “Joey!”
Dru put his hands on Rebecca’s shoulders and gently moved her out of the way of the paramedics as they prepared Joey for transport to the hospital.
“What happened?” Rebecca asked two officers who were standing nearby.
They looked at Dru, and he nodded.
