"And the house?"
"I've found the perfect one," he said. "Not like The Towers you used to live in. But almost as pretty."
Something grabbed at Eugenia's heart. Apparently, Drew hadn't been in town long enough to have heard about Frederick and The Towers.
"Drew?" she whispered.
"Huh?"
"I have much to tell you." She began, then told all.
Afterwards, Drew sat upright, the look of amusement having returned in his eyes once again.
"So. You've moved up in
the world, huh?" he said hoarsely. "You? Owner of The Towers? Goddamn it, Eugenia. It looks as though you're better at gamblin' than I've ever been."
Eugenia pushed her way upward to sit beside him. "And what's that supposed to mean?" she snapped.
He laughed. "Just a play with words. Just a play with words," he said. "But it seems my plan has been made more complicated by this discovery. Can you truly choose me over your new way of life?"
Eugenia's heart began to pound. "What do you mean, Drew?" she asked softly, wrapping her arms around her knees. She was quite aware of his eyes still devouring her nudity.
"Our new house in Colorado Springs."
"Ours?"
"Yes, ours," he said firmly. "Why else would I purchase a two-storied, ten room house? To lose myself in it each day? No. I bought it for you and I. To move into after we're married."
"Married?" Eugenia gasped. "You… and… me? Married?"
Drew tickled her playfully with a finger in her ribs. "Yes. You and me," he said, laughing softly. "That is if you'll have me."
"Oh, Drew," she sighed, scooting over next to him, placing her head on his shoulder. "How I do love you."
He wrapped his arm around her and bent his head to kiss the nipple of a breast. "Does that mean your answer is yes?"
All thoughts of The Old Homestead Parlour, The Towers, Adam, and the girls were forgotten quickly as she murmured "yes," over and over again, as his lips and tongue began to send waves of warm liquid through her mind. She trembled, even let out a sob of happiness as he entered her gently, then demandingly. There was only Drew, now and forever.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-one
With one hand, Eugenia clung to the reins of her horse, and with the other, pushed her hat more securely onto her head. She watched Drew bouncing leisurely on the horse in front of her. She had never thought they would be together again, on horseback, on her mountain, and of all things, heading for her parents' homestead.
Drew's attire this day was similar to that of their first meeting, except that his face was cleanshaven. The previous evening, he had been handsome in his pin-striped woolen suit, but Eugenia liked him much better in jeans and plaid flannel shirt, because that had been how she had always envisioned him those many months when her thoughts had been all that she had left of him.
The chill of the oncoming evening was fast encompassing Eugenia, making her eyes burn and her nose begin to run. How glad she was that she had accepted the pair of jeans that Drew had forced upon her. If not for the jeans and suede jacket, she more than likely wouldn't have been able to travel the base of the mountain. Not in these temperatures. Even now, as she looked upward, she could only make out a vague outline of the jutting peaks of Mount Pisgah. The foggy moisture swirled in masses around the mountain's edges, sometimes clinging, then sometimes breaking away to form miniature clouds, almost threatening snow to begin to fall from them.
"Are you all right, darling?" Drew asked beside her.
Eugenia hadn't been aware that he had pulled his horse to a halt, to wait on her. She smiled a bit awkwardly, not wanting him to see her uneasiness about the time of day. She had surely misjudged the distance, as she had the first time she had been on this mountain pass. It was hard for her to estimate how much farther they had to travel. All that surrounded her didn't speak of familiarity. It had been too long. She only hoped that they weren't lost.
"I'm fine, Drew," she said softly. "Just fine."
"If we don't get there soon, we'll have to search for shelter. Maybe an old miner's cabin. Something. It's gettin' much too cold for a delicacy such as yourself to be in."
Eugenia hugged herself and laughed. "Sure. Delicate? Only a short time ago, you wouldn't have been able to say that," she said. "When we first met, I was as strong as any man. Doing chores on my Papa's homestead saw to that. But I guess being a madam has softened me up a bit."