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.
“We got a call that Mr. Reynolds had fallen from the loft of the barn. It seems he may have been haying the horses when he tripped. I can’t guarantee it, ma’am, but he was breathing good and all. Once he regains consciousness, he’s probably going to be okay.”
Dru wanted to thank