Rosanne Bittner (9 page)

Once Sage described the men he hunted, Bo and Whitey recognized them as three men who’d come by the ranch asking to sell three mules.

Maggie’s mules
, Sage figured. Maggie stayed in an adjoining room, an offer from Whitey that Sage welcomed. He wanted her away from the prying eyes and thoughts of these men.

“I traded one good riding horse for the three mules,” Whitey told him.

“Which way did they go?”

“North.”

That surprised Sage. “Not south?”

“Nope. That was about five or six days ago. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry. I expect you have a good chance of catchin’ up with them.”

Sage took a drag on a fat cigar Whitey offered him. “Maybe they figured I’m not coming after them. They seem to be taking their time now.”

“Could be,” Bo commented.

“I’ll leave in the morning.”

Whitey nodded. “Out here, men don’t rat on each other, at least not without getting paid for it. In your case, the information is free because it was your wife they mistreated and not some no-account woman.”

Sage tipped his chair back and rested the sole of one foot against the edge of the table. “I appreciate that. So does my wife.”

The woman named Betsy reached down to take away his empty plate.

“Good steak, Betsy,” Sage told her.

She leaned closer so that her very exposed breasts were near his face. “I’m good at a lot of things, mister.”

The others snickered.

Sage met Betsy’s blue eyes—eyes that showed a woman who’d lived a hard life. God only knew how she’d ended up this way. “No offense, Betsy. You’re a fine-looking woman, but I do have a wife in the other room. I’d like to thank you for fixing that bath for her.”

Betsy patted his face. “No problem, honey.”

Sage put his chair down and leaned over the table to get Betsy’s voluptuous cleavage out of his face. There was a time when he’d readily take advantage of her offer. What made matters worse was that before this night was over, he’d have to share a bedroom with Maggie. Sleeping on the open ground was one thing, but being together in a small room with a woman he was beginning to want while she lay right beside him in a soft bed was another.

“Break out the cards, Betsy,” Whitey ordered. “And bring over another bottle. We’re gonna take this newcomer for whatever he’s got in his pockets.”

“Might turn out I’m the one who’s richer in the morning,” Sage shot back with a grin, trying to keep things jovial.

“We’ll just see about that,” Stu answered sullenly, still miffed about being threatened earlier with Sage’s forty-five caliber. Sage judged Stu would need watching the rest of the night, but his bigger worry was Cutter. The Indian left before he and Maggie reached the cabin, and he hadn’t come back.

“You boys deal while I check on my wife,” he told the rest of them, momentarily putting out his cigar. He walked into the bedroom to find Maggie sitting at a dressing table in a flannel nightgown. She was brushing out her long, thick, red locks, and the sight was almost more than a man could take.

Maggie quickly put down the brush as Sage closed the door. She grabbed a robe Betsy had given her. “You could have knocked.”

Sage put fingers to his lips to warn her to speak softly, so those outside the room wouldn’t hear them. Then he stepped closer and kept his own voice down as he answered her. “What do you think those men out there would have thought if I had to knock before entering my wife’s bedroom?”

Maggie shook her hair loose from the robe and tied the garment tightly. Sage noticed she could practically have wrapped the thing around herself twice—she was so small compared to Betsy. “I came to check and make sure things are okay in here,” Sage added.

Maggie sat in front of the dressing table again. “It felt good to take a bath, I’ll say that.”

Sage could hardly stop staring. This was the prettiest he’d seen her. He wished she could always wear her hair down like that instead of the bun she kept it in. “I bet it did. Is there anything you want me to tell Betsy to get you? Coffee or something?”

She looked at him strangely. He could swear he saw something close to jealousy in her eyes.

“No, thanks, but from what I heard, there are other things she’d gladly help
you
out with,” Maggie answered in a rough whisper. She turned and started brushing her hair again.

“That bothers you?”

Maggie laid down the brush. “Well, we certainly wouldn’t look like the happily married couple if you cavorted in another room with a whore now, would we?”

Sage grinned. “No, ma’am.”

“And if those men think you care so little about me, they might get ideas.”

“Which is exactly why I turned Betsy down.”

Maggie looked at him in the mirror, studying him with obvious distrust. “That’s the only reason?”

Good
God, does the woman have feelings for me?
“What’s wrong with you, Maggie?”

She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know
what
to think when I see and hear how you interact with men like those in the other room, let alone with that Betsy.”

He sighed with irritation. “I told you how things would be out here, and you swore it didn’t matter. If what happened to you is going to get in the way, you’d better get out soon as we reach a place where I can put you on a stage back to Rawlins.”

“No! Please don’t!” Maggie picked up the brush and turned. “Please don’t go drinking so much that you get ideas when you come back in here tonight,” she added. “I don’t want to worry… I mean… I know drinking can change a man. It used to make my pa real mean, and
you
can get real mean without even taking a drop of liquor.”

The air hung silent for a moment. When Sage said nothing, Maggie added that he’d have to sleep on the floor when he came back. “I’ll leave a pillow and blanket for you.”

“Gee, thanks.” Sage turned to leave.

“Sage,” Maggie said.

“What?”

I’m carrying. That’s why I need to sleep.
“Please say you understand.”

“Oh, I understand, all right. What I
don’t
understand is why you think you need to tell me all this. Why don’t you trust me? You’ve trusted me just fine up to a few hours ago.”

She nodded. “I know, but you weren’t… you weren’t in this kind of situation… around men like those from your past.”

“I
told
you, the men at the ranch
are
from my past, and you had no trouble trusting me
or
them.”

“I know.” She sighed and rose. “I guess… Sage, my whole life has been turned upside down. I hardly know what to make of it or how to abide by men like those out there. I don’t know how you could have lived like this and then built such a beautiful ranch and settled.” She took a deep breath. “I have to ask you, Sage. Are you married? I couldn’t help seeing the return address on that letter you received before we left. Joanna Lightfoot.”

Sage’s brow deepened in a scowl. He hated how complicated women could be. He hated even more talking about Joanna. “She was my wife, but not anymore.” He studied her eyes, realizing he often felt dangerously lost in their green depths. To his shock, it hit him that Maggie Tucker had enough feelings for him that she was jealous of Joanna, and of women like Betsy. For such a little thing who’d had no experience with men other than the obligations of a dutiful wife, she had a way of looking right through a man… maybe all the way into his heart, which of late, had begun beating through the wall he’d deliberately built around it. “Maggie, don’t do this.”

She blinked. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t look at me like you are right now.”

She turned away. “I was thinking how much I wish… I wish you could hold me, just for a minute. I’m scared, Sage. Please don’t take it wrong, but… I’m grateful for your strength and protection, and I want to be sure you won’t turn back into a man like those out there. Sometimes a woman needs some reassurance, if that makes any sense.”

Against his better judgment, Sage walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “I’d never go back to behaving like those men out there,” he told her. Her hair smelled clean. She felt so small in his arms.

Maggie gripped his forearms. “Thank you… for bringing me along and all.”

Jesus, Sage, let go before things go too far.
He pulled away and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Get some rest now. We have a lot more riding to do tomorrow.” He moved farther away and folded his arms. “Whitey and Stu saw the men we’re looking for. They traded your mules for a horse, then headed north.”

“North?” Maggie turned to face him. “Then we’ve gone right by them!”

Sage shrugged, glad for the diversion from the feel of her in his arms. “It’s a big country, Maggie, and they obviously took a different trail. The point is they’re trying to throw us off by backtracking. Then again, they’re taking their time, so they might not suspect I’m on their tail at all. Taking so long to get started might benefit us.” He grasped the doorknob.

“We’ll leave early morning. Right now, I’m sitting in on a card game, just to keep things on a friendly note and to keep my eyes on those men till they go to bed. So don’t be alarmed by how I behave or what I say.”

He walked out, upset over the fact that he was starting to care way too much for Maggie Tucker.

He sat at the table and poured himself a shot. “Deal the cards, boys.”

Sage tried hard to hide his foul mood. Too much whiskey, mixed with having to sleep on the floor while Maggie enjoyed the luxury of a mattress, led to an aching back and a headache. He could swear the hard ground was more forgiving than a wood plank floor. The only benefit was that being uncomfortable helped him keep one eye and both ears open for any attempt by someone from the other room to come inside. Whitey kept his promise that no one would bother them, but Cutter never did come back. That gave Sage a very uneasy feeling that led to a miserable, sleepless night.

He headed north on a straighter path that would keep them about a hundred miles east of Paradise Valley as they backtracked. They would literally ride right past the ranch. His intended destination was Hole-In-The-Wall, a place he knew well. If the men he hunted hoped he’d give up, they’d find out different. He had to make this right for Standing Wolf’s sake… and now, for Maggie too. He arched his shoulders, again remembering that hard floor. “Sleep good last night?” he asked Maggie with a hint of sarcasm.

Maggie rode beside him rather than behind him. Again, she remained mostly hidden under pants, a wool jacket, and a man’s hat pulled over her red locks, which were tied into a tail and tucked inside her jacket.

“Slept just fine,” she replied, obviously aware he’d not enjoyed the floor.

“I know. I heard you snore.” Sage kept an eye on the rocky outcroppings to their left, still worried about Cutter.

“What? I don’t snore!”

“Oh, yes, you do.”

Maggie laughed. “Why haven’t I heard
you
snore yet?”

Her laughter warmed his heart. She seemed more relaxed today, probably because she was relieved to learn she had nothing to worry about last night. He’d not gone near her, a feat that turned out to be much more difficult than he’d expected.

“You haven’t heard me snore because I always sleep with one eye open,” he answered. “I never get to fall into a truly deep sleep… which reminds me… Cutter never came back last night. He’s all Indian, which means he can be around without a person knowing it.”

“Will
you
know it?”

“I’m not sure. It’s been a long time.”

“A long time since you lived like an Indian, or since you were around such men?”

“Both.”

They rode quietly for several minutes before Maggie spoke again. “So you did live with Indians once. Dare I ask what tribe?”

Sage frowned. That was something else he didn’t care to talk about, and the mood he was in this morning, he found the question annoying. “I’d prefer we changed the subject.”

“Okay. How old are you?”

“Old enough to have experienced just about everything a man can experience in life… and yet too young for all of it. I’m thirty.”

“Have you ever seen a really big city? James and I got on the train in Omaha. That’s the biggest city I’ve seen. We didn’t live all that far from St. Louis, but neither my pa or James took me there.”

More silence. The only sound was the creaking of their saddles and the occasional huff and snort of one of the horses.

“I lived in San Francisco for almost ten years,” Sage finally answered.

“San Francisco!” His answer surprised her. “Is it true they have fancy opera houses there, and men walking around with gold in their pockets?”

Sage snickered. “Some do, I suppose—the ones who live on Nob Hill.”

“How was it a man like you lived in a big city for so long?”

He shrugged. “Long story.”

“Lord knows, we don’t have anything else to do the next few days but talk. You told Cutter that you lived like him once. And you’ve already admitted to living with outlaws. You’ve been married. You run a big ranch. And now, you say you’ve lived in San Francisco. That’s a lot of living in thirty years.”

“Leave it alone, Maggie. I’ll explain sometime when I’m in the mood, and I’m not in the mood.”

“Don’t get angry again. I don’t like you when you’re angry.”

“And I don’t like
being
angry, so quit asking so many questions.”

Maggie trotted her horse farther ahead. “Are you still mad about sleeping on the floor?”

“That’s another question.”

She looked back at him. “Either way, the next time we get in a situation like that, I’ll let you have the bed.”

“Your thoughtfulness overwhelms me, but it will be a while before that happens. It’s the hard, cold ground again for the next couple of weeks.”

Maggie trotted Smoke back beside Sage. “Do you really think we’ll find those men?”

“We’ll find them. When someone betrays me like that, I don’t let it go.” The remark brought memories of Joanna—how she, too, had betrayed him. There was a time when he would have enjoyed wringing her pretty neck.

“I won’t give up either,” Maggie told him. “Whatever I’ve had to do in life, I never gave up. Mostly, I never gave up hope that things would somehow get better.”

“I suppose that’s a good way to—”

Sage’s words were cut off by the whirring of an arrow that came so close the feathers at the end of the shaft brushed his nose. It all happened in a split second, and the next thing he knew, Maggie was screaming from an arrow in her thigh. She grasped her leg, trying to hang on to a startled Smoke. Storm also sensed the danger and reared slightly.

“Hang on!” Sage knew he had to act fast, before another arrow pierced him or Maggie. He grabbed Smoke’s reins and charged toward a rocky incline to their left. He urged the horses higher, onto a ledge where a large, flat, overhanging rock hid them from whoever was above. He leaped down and pulled Maggie from her horse.

“Shit,” he said. “It’s Cutter! Lie low, and hang on to the horses the best you can. I’ve got to find him!”

“Don’t leave me!” Maggie pleaded. “Oh, God, it hurts!”

“I can’t help you till I kill that sonofabitch!” Sage propped her into the recesses of a pile of huge boulders and put the reins into her hands. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I’ll come back. As long as you don’t tug on that arrow, there won’t be much bleeding.”

She dug her nails into his arm. “What if he kills you?”

He took her six-gun from the holster she wore and laid it in her lap. “Try to stay alert, and keep this handy. I know you’re in pain. I’ll be back!”

Sage yanked his rifle from its boot and headed higher into the rocks.

“Sage!” Maggie screamed. “Don’t go!”

The plea cut into him, but he knew he had no choice. That arrow was surely meant for him, and poor Maggie suffered for it. Apparently, Cutter was not as adept with bow and arrow as he was with his knife. Trouble was, both weapons were silent, so he had nothing to go by in locating the man. Cutter could be anywhere up here. He had to find him—and fast! Maggie desperately needed his help.