Angels Don't Cry Read online

  But at that time he hadn’t realized his antithesis would be the one person who had good reason to despise him and everything he represented. He knew Angel had rebuffed every offer Riverside had made for her property along the river. That hadn’t surprised him in the least. He knew how much that land had meant to her father. But no one had bothered to inform him until today that she was also a member of the Crossfield town council, that she represented the contingent of Crossfield citizens who were adamantly opposed to change.

  He let his gaze slide over her, greedily detailing each lovely feature—that glorious red hair, worn long now judging by the thick twist at her nape, and eyes that were still the most beguiling shade of green he’d ever seen. She’d grown so incredibly gorgeous, he thought, with a sharp tightening in his stomach. So womanly.

  The past ten years had added a poise and self-confidence that were astonishing, a maturity that was breathtaking. She had always been beautiful to him, more beautiful by far than any woman he’d ever known. She and Aiden had been identical in appearance, yet he’d never once mistaken one for the other. Not once. That hadn’t been an excuse he could use.

  With a bitter tinge of regret, he tried to look away, but his gaze kept coming back to her. He had the sudden urge to spirit her away from here, to take her somewhere quiet and romantic where the lights were dim and he could slide his hand along the creamy expanse of her legs, so stunningly displayed beneath the hem of her short skirt. He longed to trace his finger along the neck of her silk tank top, exploring the soft fabric that only hinted at the enticement hidden underneath. But most of all, he wanted to remove, one by one, the pins that held in place that prim knot of hair and watch the fiery cascade tumble down her back in wanton abandonment. He wanted to kiss her long and hard until everything and everyone spun away from them.

  With a healthy dose of reality, he tamped down that reckless urge. He was here to do a job, he reminded himself grimly. And that job required him to make peace with Angel Lowell, win her over, sell her on the prospect of the future. Better to keep their past out of it.

  He saw her gaze shift, and for one brief moment found himself hopelessly sinking into those endless green depths. She quickly shuttered her eyes, closing him out, and he reluctantly turned his attention back to Mayor Sikes, who was exuberantly introducing him. Drew stood and took the podium.

  He smiled warmly as he let his gaze roam the audience. “As I recall, the last time I was brought before a Crossfield town meeting had something to do with Halloween night and an outhouse placed on top of city hall. I must say, my task here tonight is a bit more pleasant than it was that night.”

  The tension in the room began to evaporate as everyone laughed their approval. Ann felt the corners of her own mouth twitch. She remembered how Drew and her cousin, Jack Hudson, had struggled to load Fannie Taylor’s outhouse into the back of Jack’s old pickup truck while she and Aiden had kept lookout. How they’d managed to get it on top of city hall, she’d never dared ask.

  Mayor Sikes had been livid, and he’d insisted Jack and Drew come before a town meeting and publicly apologize to Fannie and to the whole town. Now he was laughing more uproariously over that incident than anyone else, his belly shaking like the Pillsbury Doughboy in a pin-striped suit.

  Drew let the laughter subside, his own grin fading as he surveyed the crowd once more, his gaze pausing briefly on Ann before sweeping on. But she’d felt a warming impact from even so fleeting a glance from those blue, blue eyes.

  “As most of you know, Riverside Development is a division of Braeden Industries of Dallas, the firm I’ve been employed by since graduating from UT. My background in Crossfield gives me a unique appreciation of small town values and concerns. At the same time, my long-time standing with Braeden Industries and now with Riverside Development enables me to tell you without hesitation that they can bring much to this community.”

  Drew’s commanding air of self-confidence had an immediate effect on the crowd. Except for the smooth, liquid tones of his voice, a dropped pin could have been heard in that room.

  Ann bit her lip in consternation as she took in the absorbed faces around her. He had them in the palm of his hand already, she thought with a sinking heart. He was seducing every last one of them without batting an eye. Even Viola Pickles’s austere features were tempered, and Bernice and Wilma looked positively enraptured.

  “What Riverside is proposing, ladies and gentlemen, is a partnership. A partnership that will ensure a bright and prosperous future for generations of Crossfield citizens.

  “I’ll be around for a while, several weeks in fact, meeting with Mayor Sikes and the town council as well as various special interest groups and individuals.” Again his eyes grazed Ann. “If you have any questions or concerns or comments, please feel free to come to me with them. Mayor Sikes?”

  “Thank you, Drew. I’m sure everyone joins me in saying welcome home. Now, does anyone have any questions?”

  Evidently, Mayor Sikes’s re-emergence worked like a dousing of cold water on Wilma and Bernice. Both of them were on their feet, hands raised high.

  With a glare of disapproval over his bifocals, Mayor Sikes said, “Bernice? You have a question?”

  “I certainly do,” she stated emphatically, directing her question to Drew. “Just what is your company’s intentions concerning all those old houses along Riverside Drive? Young man, you can’t come in here, bulldozing away the past without regard to the heritage of our town. Many of those houses have great historical value, not to mention the families who still live in them.”

  “Miss Ballard, Riverside Development is not forcing anyone out of their homes. We’re making legitimate offers to property owners along the river, and frankly, many of them have responded quite favorably.”

  “And if that area is rezoned for commercial building, what will become of the ones who don’t want to sell?” Wilma chimed in. “They’ll end up with parking lots and convenience stores for next door neighbors.”

  “That will be a matter for the town council to decide. As you know, Riverside’s request for rezoning the waterfront has not yet been accepted by the council.”

  “And never will be,” Viola proclaimed loudly. “Right, Ann? Ann?”

  Ann jumped slightly as Viola nudged her into awareness. She looked around at all the expectant faces waiting for her to take up their cause. A sense of overwhelming vulnerability washed over her. She knew what had to be done, what needed to be said, but all she seemed to be able to focus on was how utterly compelling Drew’s eyes still were, how openly inviting his mouth had always been—

  “I have serious reservations about these proposals,” she said finally. Several women from the Historical Society turned in their chairs to stare at her, and Bernice, Wilma and Viola were openly gaping. “Very serious reservations,” she added lamely.

  “That’s why I’m here,” Drew said, looking directly at her with those vivid, penetrating eyes. “I want to hear all your concerns and questions. All I ask is that I be given a chance to present my side.”

  The warm, enveloping sound of his voice aroused tremors all through her, and Ann had to wonder whether they were still talking about the development project or something more personal—something much more threatening.

  She forced a challenge into her gaze as she turned to face Drew. “And those of us who oppose this project want the same consideration. The farmers around here have had a lot of tough years. For those who want to sell Riverside their land, the escalating property values are wonderful. But to those of us who don’t wish to sell, and never will, the increase in property taxes will be just another burden for us to carry.” She paused for a moment, her chin lifting slightly as she continued to defy Drew. “You seem to think that your development plan will somehow give Crossfield a better way of life, but a lot of us think it’s just fine the way it is. We don’t call escalating crime rates, traffic jams and the destruction of the countryside `a bright and prosperous future.’”

/>   “Here! Here!” Bernice applauded, only to be targeted by Mayor Sikes’s deepening scowl.

  “I’m not denying there’s a price to be paid for progress,” Drew said calmly. “But the rewards are often greater. Crossfield has lived in the past too long. It’s time to take a step forward before this town goes the way of so many other farming communities these days.”

  There were murmurs of assent from the crowd. Nathan Bennett, one of Ann’s neighbors and an avid supporter of the development project, stood up, his face flushed dark red with excitement and possibly a nip or two of something else. “You’re right, Drew. Some of us are more concerned with the opportunities your project could bring—like jobs and new businesses, better schools and roads. How do a few termite-infested old houses down by the river compare with our children’s futures? We don’t want the deal queered by a bunch of old battle-axes who don’t have anything better to do with their time—”

  Bernice was back on her feet in a flash. “Now, see here, Nat Bennett, I’ll have you know I’m just as concerned with your children’s welfare as you are. Maybe more so, judging by the condition that house of yours is in—”

  Mayor Sikes’s gavel sounded over the dull roar of the crowd. “Now, hold on a minute. We’re all friends and neighbors here. No need to get so hot under the collar. We can state our opinions and concerns without getting personal. I think we’ve all said enough for tonight. More will be accomplished if we let Drew take up these matters one on one rather than in a shouting match. This meeting stands adjourned. Cake and coffee’s been set up in the lobby—”

  “Come on, girls,” Bernice said, gathering up her purse and placard. “We need to plot a new strategy.”

  “Now, wait a minute,” Viola protested, trailing after Bernice. “I’m the president. I think I should be the one to decide—”

  “Wilma! Are you going to sit there all night or are you coming with us?”

  Ann let the voices swirl around her as she stood. For just a moment her gaze caught Drew’s and a spark of something—anger?—ignited between them. Then she turned, tucking her purse beneath her arm, and walked out of the room.

  Two

  Ann stood on her front porch, letting the night surround her like a soft, velvet cocoon. She’d been home from the meeting for over an hour, but had only gone inside long enough to dispense with her shoes and stockings. Out here, with the cool breeze from the river gliding along her bare arms and legs, the evening was like a fragrant balm.

  Down by the river the crickets and bullfrogs had begun their evening serenade. The leaves rustled overhead, sounding like rain, and the scent of roses and honeysuckle carried on the wind as heady and maddening as a drug. Ann rested her head against a wooden support, blinking back a mist of unfamiliar tears at the memories the summer night whispered to her. Warm, starry evenings, the sliding shimmer of the river, and she and Drew swimming in the moonlight...

  Somewhere in the distance a car engine sounded on the highway. Ann waited for it to bypass the turnoff to the farm, but it didn’t. Instead she watched the headlights bouncing down the gravel road toward her. She watched as the beautiful, gleaming car came around the last bend in the lane and stopped at the end of the driveway. She watched as the driver got out of the car and came slowly across the yard toward her.

  Only then did she realize she’d been holding her breath. She let it out with an almost painful swoosh.

  Drew stopped at the steps, one foot poised on the bottom stair as he met her eyes in the moonlight. The pale, silvery light cast an ethereal glow between them, making the moment seem even more unreal, like a dream. Then a ghost of a smile touched his lips, and Ann’s heart slowly contracted.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. There was a strange catch to her voice that disturbed her. She tried to swallow it away as she continued to hold Drew’s gaze.

  “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you at the meeting. I wanted to come out here and explain my situation to you.”

  “There’s no need. You made it perfectly clear,” Ann said, forcing a calmness into her tone she was far from feeling. “And I’ll try to make mine just as clear. If you’ve come out here to make me an offer, you’re wasting your time.”

  His smile twisted wryly. “So I’ve heard.” He paused briefly, climbing up another step or two so that eyes were on an even level. Ann moved back a step. Drew stopped. For a moment he stood there looking at her, his heart pounding at her nearness. She leaned her back against the porch post as she faced him defiantly, but with her bare feet and legs, her hair wisping about her face, she looked touchingly vulnerable and young, so incredibly sweet—and to him, at least, so very unreachable.

  Keep it light, he advised himself sternly. She was like a wild, skittish colt. One false move on his part, and she would be gone, lost. “That was quite a cheering section you had back there. I hadn’t realized until tonight you were leading the opposition.”

  “I’m not,” she denied. “I mean, I’m not a member of the Historical Society or any other group. But as a council member, I have to listen to the needs and desires of all the citizens, and there are a lot of people around here who don’t want this project going through.”

  “But a lot of people do,” he insisted. “And as a council member, you have to be willing to listen to both sides, right?”

  “Who says I’m not?” she challenged, lifting her chin a notch. “Riverside’s done a lot of talking in the past few months, and I haven’t liked much of what I’ve heard. What you’re proposing will change the whole complexion of the town, turn it into some sort of riverside resort with a bunch of overpriced homes sitting on so many undersized lots. Crossfield is a small town, Drew. Personally, I’d like to see it stay that way.”

  “Everybody’s entitled to his or her opinion,” Drew said without rancor. “All I ask is that I be given a chance to try and change it.”

  Ann bristled indignantly. “I doubt you can do that.”

  He smiled, his voice intimately low and persuasive. “All I ask is a fair chance.” He emphasized the word fair.

  “Is that why you came all the way out here tonight?” Ann asked coolly. “To make sure I wouldn’t sabotage your project on personal bias?”

  Drew shrugged. “Partly. And partly because I wanted to see you, talk to you, maybe make it a little easier on both of us when we meet up from now on. And we will be meeting, often. Circumstances have thrown us together, and everyone’s going to be watching us, pouncing on any animosity between us to feed their curiosity.”

  “Are you saying you’re worried about gossip?” Ann asked incredulously. “As I recall, you never cared one way or the other what people said or thought.”

  “That’s not altogether true,” he objected, his words falling like rose petals on the sultry night air. “I always valued your opinion, Angel.”

  No one but Drew had ever been able to make her childish name sound so seductive. The intimacy of it now tore at Ann’s heart. The years faded away and he was once again Drew, her first love, the boy next door who could wrap her around his little finger with just a smile or a touch or the whisper of her name. Regret spilled through her, but it was only a dim reflection of the pain and bitterness and disillusionment she had once suffered because of this man.

  She let her eyes meet Drew’s once more as she folded her arms in front of her, forcing herself to remain calm and undaunted beneath the power of his devastating blue gaze. “No one calls me Angel anymore. At least not to my face.”

  “Sorry. Old habits, as they say, die hard.” He mounted the rest of the steps, coming to stand beside her so that she was forced to look up at him. “I’d heard you’d changed your name sometime ago.”

  From Aiden, of course, Ann thought with a prick of an emotion she did not care to identify.

  “In fact, it’s now Dr. Lowell, I believe.”

  She heard the light, almost teasing quality in his voice and found herself responding in spite of her resolve. A grudging smile touched her l
ips. “Since you’re not one of my students, Ann will do.” She paused, then added, almost accusingly, “We’ve certainly heard great things about your career. Vice president, isn’t it?”

  Drew gave a low, ironic laugh. “One of several. Empty titles to feed our egos rather than our bank balances.”

  His self-deprecating humor somehow managed to cut through the tension. Ann felt her taut muscles slowly begin to relax as she allowed herself to respond to Drew’s smile.

  A furtive movement in the garden below captured their attention. Ann could just make out the dark outline of her three-legged cat as he crouched at the edge of a flowerbed, eyes glowing in the darkness. He pounced at some poor, unfortunate creature in the grass, one gray paw whipping out like a hook. With a loud meow of protest, he disappeared into the foliage, stalking.

  “One of your infamous strays, no doubt,” Drew teased warmly.

  Ann nodded. “I found him out on the highway a few months ago where he had been hit by a car and left to die. Dr. Matlock patched him up as best he could, but there wasn’t anything he could do about his leg. He manages just fine with the three he has left, though,” she remarked proudly. “Watson’s very curious, always prowling around, poking in corners. And he’s smart as a whip.”

  “Then why not Sherlock?” Drew asked with an easy laugh. “You always did find heroes in the most unlikely guises.”

  The sound of his laughter touched something deep inside her, something she tried to deny but couldn’t. His laughter still had the power to set her stomach quivering, her hands to trembling. It still had the power to break through all the barriers she had so carefully erected. “Not anymore,” she said in a tone that held the faintest trace of resentment. “I gave up looking for heroes a long time ago.”