Rosanne Bittner (22 page)

“You gonna kill him?” Newell asked Sage. “Or do you want me to do it?”

“Let him suffer,” Sage answered, his eyes still on Maggie. “He’ll die soon enough.”

Maggie realized then that Sage’s hands were bloody, and he still held his knife. Blood poured down the side of his face from the bullet wound, and his shirtsleeve was soaked with blood. “Sage,” she said softly, not sure what he wanted or needed.

“Is he telling the truth?” Sage asked.

Maggie swallowed. She was losing him. “Yes.”

He looked her over. “How long have you known?”

“Since before we left.”

He closed his eyes and struggled with emotion. “Not your husband’s?”

“No.”

He turned away, bracing himself against a porch post. “How do you know?”

“How do you think?”

Sage walked off the porch and went to a barrel that held water. He dipped his hands and the knife into the water and washed off the blood, then shoved his knife into its sheath. He washed some of the blood from his face, but more poured forth. He stood bent over for a moment, looking broken. Finally, he walked to the men with the pack train. He reached into his pocket, handed them money. One of them helped him take two saddles and gear off the travois.

“You’d better sit down,” Newell told Maggie. “Give Sage a few minutes. Takes awhile for a man to settle down after bein’ so angry, especially after he’s killed somebody. He has some dickerin’ to do with them men over there. They did a right good job of helpin’ us out.”

Maggie sank to the edge of the porch. Smoke poured from the cabin’s front door. She waited while one of the men who’d helped ripped open Sage’s shirtsleeve and doused his wound with whiskey, then wrapped gauze around the wound to slow the bleeding. She heard the man say something about the bullet going all the way through. He asked Sage about the deep scar already on his arm.

“Grizzly,” Sage answered.

To Maggie, it seemed a lifetime ago that she’d shot that grizzly.

Newell climbed back onto the cabin roof and retrieved his vest from the top of the chimney, then jumped down and tossed it aside. “All smoked up,” he commented. “Ain’t no good now.” He walked over to help Sage saddle two horses. The men in the other cabin slowly came out and talked with the traders. They all proceeded to go about their business as though what just happened was a daily occurrence. Jasper’s curses weakened and turned into the ugly groans of a man slowly dying.

Maggie felt dazed. Silly as it seemed at the moment, she worried how she must look. She was filthy. She didn’t need a mirror to know her hair was a mess, her cheek swollen, her lips cracked, her hands blistered, her dress in shreds, and her arms covered with dirt and scabbing scrapes. On top of that, she figured she must smell horrid. If Sage had seen her at her best back in Atlantic City, he was now seeing her at her worst.

Sage finally walked closer and pulled her into his arms. “Thank God, you’re alive,” he groaned.

Maggie wilted against him. “I’m so sorry, Sage, about the ugly way you heard about… the baby.” She felt him stiffen.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Maggie pulled away and looked at him. “Because you would have left me behind. When I fell in love with you, I not only feared you’d leave me, but that I’d lose your love and respect. I meant to tell you when all this was over, and we were both safe. I thought maybe… if I picked the right time and place…”

“Just tell me you didn’t intend to pass the baby off as mine.”

“No!” Maggie felt sick with regret. She turned away. “You should know me better by now.”

He closed his eyes. “I’m familiar with a woman’s deceit, Maggie.”

“You’re too worked up right now to deal with this.” She faced him again. “And I’m so… so worn out, and…” She couldn’t finish, too emotionally and physically drained to argue or explain. A hint of softness moved into Sage’s dark eyes… the eyes of a man who could be as savage as the wildest Indian… and perhaps, as unforgiving. She saw doubt in those eyes, and it devastated her. Yet, in the next moment, in spite of his injuries, Sage scooped her into his arms and carried her to one of the saddled horses. He set her on it.

“We have two more horses below the wall,” he told her. “When we get to the pathway, you can sit on the horse while I lead it down. The descent can be more dangerous than coming up.” He paused, settling into the saddle behind her and wrapping both arms around her. “Maggie,” he groaned her name. “What have they done to you?”

Maggie grasped his strong forearms and let the tears come—deep, wrenching sobs of relief… and sorrow. He’d come for her… found her… but in a different way, they’d likely lose each other again.

Sage held Maggie in his arms until they reached the edge of the massive red-rock wall and began their descent. In spite of its beauty, Maggie hoped to never see this place again. Sage remained quiet, and Maggie was grateful. She was too weary and hurting too much to talk about anything that touched on raw emotions. It was enough that their journey was finally over—at least the part that kept them searching for the men who’d caused so much havoc in their lives. She could sense the rage that still seethed in Sage’s blood. Even Newell remained tense and quiet.

The trip down was the most harrowing of any other part of their journey, but the horses remained sure-footed and stable. Sage put Maggie on one of two more horses held for them at the bottom of the trail.

“Looks like you had a bit of a battle,” said one of the two men waiting with the horses.

“You might say that.” Sage packed supplies they’d left with the men. Maggie realized any one of them could have ridden off with all of it.

The man helping Sage glanced at Maggie and nodded. “Ma’am.”

Maggie nodded in return. “Thank you for watching the horses.”

“Well, ma’am, I don’t cotton to anybody stealin’ a man’s wife. Looks like you’ve been sore-treated. Sorry about that.” He turned his attention to Sage again. “Yates still up there?”

Sage tightened the cinch on one of the extra horses. “He stayed to do some trading. He and the others didn’t get hurt. I’m glad of that.”

“The men you went after… are they dead?”

Sage nodded. “The one I wanted most should have bled to death by now.” He turned to the man beside him and put out his hand. “Thanks.”

The man shook his hand. “Anybody gives you trouble on the way back, just mention Bob Yates, and tell them what happened to Kate. They’ll leave you be.” He grinned. “Not that you can’t handle yourself. I’ve got no doubt that you can.”

Sage mounted up, and the three rode off, Newell leading the fourth horse. Sage rode beside Maggie. “Can you make about five miles?” he asked her.

“I think so.”

“It’s a bit out of the way of the regular trail through the valley, but I know a place not far from here where you can hole up, while I go on to Lander with Newell to check on Kate and get my money out of that bank.”

Maggie felt panic rising. Did he intend to leave her? Had he already made up his mind? “I don’t want you to leave me again—not out here. And I want to see Kate too.”

“In Kate’s condition, it won’t matter if you’re there or not. And time is of the essence. If Kate’s dying, I want to get there quick as I can, and the condition you’re in—you’d just slow us down. If Kate is alive, she’ll understand why I left you behind.”

“But you’re hurt too.”

“Don’t argue, Maggie. You’ve been to hell and back, and you’re carrying. There is no way I’d make you ride all the way back to Lander yet.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“To a place where an older couple run a rooming house and supply store. They have six grown kids, most of them married now and moved away. The woman, Sarah Becker, is a crusty, seasoned old woman who knows that out here you don’t ask questions, so she won’t press you about the bruises and all. She’ll understand what you need, and she’ll make sure you get a hot bath and a decent bed. You need to sleep—not for a couple of hours, but for a couple of days, maybe longer.” Maggie was too tired to think straight. “You’re going to leave me there and not come back.” She felt the tears coming again.

Sage halted his horse, and Maggie followed suit. “I’m doing this so you’ll be rested for the ride home, Maggie.”

Home.
Maggie wondered if she dared think of Paradise Valley as home. Newell interrupted her thoughts when he told them he’d head on into Lander.

“Got to get back to Kate. You go on to the Becker place, Sage. That little gal there is in need of female attention.”

“I’ll catch up soon as I can,” Sage told him.

“Newell,” Maggie spoke up. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did, helping Sage and all. You risked your life, and you hardly know either of us.”

“Don’t need to know you long to realize you’re worth helpin’. Besides, Kate would want me to help, and I wanted those sons of bitches as bad as Sage did after what they did to her.”

Maggie felt sick at the memory. “I pray she’s alive and will be okay,” Maggie told him. His eyes looked so sad. He gave Sage a nod, pulled his hat farther down on his forehead, and headed south.

“I feel so sorry for him,” Maggie said softly. She turned her gaze to Sage, who watched Newell for a moment. “Sage, look me in the eyes, and promise you’ll come back and get me.”

When his dark eyes met hers, she could see not all the rage had left him. She ached for him, his wounds, all the blood—his guilt over what happened to Kate… and to her. “I just risked my life to come for you on top of that mesa,” he told her. “Why wouldn’t I come for you this time?”

Maggie looked away. “When you came for me up there, you didn’t know I was carrying the child of one of those awful men.”

“Maggie, I can’t talk about that right now, but I’m not going to leave you over it. I need time to let this settle in my head. The important thing is to get you some help and some rest.” He sighed, removed his hat, running a hand through his hair. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Maggie, what did Jasper do to you? And I’m not talking about the obvious… the injuries I can see.”

She knew he felt he’d failed her. She wiped at tears with a shaking hand. “They didn’t touch me that way. They rode so hard to get there that they were too tired for anything else, even these last couple of days.”

“That the truth?”

“Yes. I’m just sorry about how you found out about… the baby. I intended to tell you privately once this was all over with. I didn’t say anything because I knew you’d leave me behind, and I wanted to stay with you till we found those men. The only reason Jasper knew was because… last night that extra man they picked up won me in a card game. I was desperate to figure out a way to keep him from… you know.” She sniffed and struggled to stay in control of her emotions. “I told him I was carrying… that it was the bastard child of Jasper or Jimmy and…” More tears came. “And that you’d never come for me because of it. I told him the only reason Jasper figured you were after him was because he stole your money… that Jasper lied and had more money than he let on. That angered the man, and he left me alone—clobbered Jasper and walked out.” Her body jerked in a sob as she met Sage’s gaze. “I’m keeping this baby, Sage, even if it means losing you. I called him a bastard to make things look as bad as I could to that man. I don’t intend to think of my baby as a bastard. It’s all I’ve got after losing my little girl.”

Sage put his hat back on. “I’m so goddamn sorry, Maggie” he told her. “This should never have happened in the first place. I thought I’d go out of my mind knowing you were with that son of a bitch again.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Maggie breathed deeply to fight her crying. “The only thing that kept me going was knowing you’d come and get me. And you did. It’s over now. We’ve done what we came to do.”

Sage rubbed the back of his neck. “I know what you’re thinking,” he told her, “that I won’t want anything to do with you now. Get those thoughts out of your head, Maggie. I need time to think. The first thing we need to do is for you to get some rest and me to go see what’s happened with Kate. Believe that I
will
come back for you. Will you do that?”

Maggie nodded, more tears streaking through the dirt on her face.

Sage sidled his horse closer, reaching out to wipe at her tears with his fingers. “I was scared to death over how I might find you. You’re some scrapper, Maggie Tucker.” He gave her a smile. “Jasper’s face was burned pretty bad. Did you do that?”

Maggie felt better at his touch… his smile. “I sure did. I had to find a way to warn you and keep Jasper from getting to his gun too soon. My only weapon was a frying pan of hot grease.”

Sage nodded. “I told Newell you were a hard woman to break.”

She held his gaze. “Sometimes, it’s the little things that break us, Sage.”

He moved an arm down and around her waist, pulling her off her horse and onto his. “Right now, you look ready to fall off your horse. Hang on to me.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “I’d like to hang on to you forever.” She rested her head against his chest, deciding that for now, she could deal with life an hour at a time, a day at a time, for however long it took Sage Lightfoot to decide if his love was strong enough to accept her condition… and to believe she’d not intended to betray him by claiming he was the father.

Sage took the reins to her horse and headed east. Maggie watched Newell in the distance, already far enough to be a mere dot on the immense landscape, a man alone with an unknown past, like so many men out here… and so many women too.

Eight days later

Maggie watched little whirls of dust drift upward far off in the yellow-grass valley beyond the Becker home.
Men
on
horses
, she thought…
going
somewhere
…
going
nowhere
. Maybe it was Sage, finally coming for her.

Today was a rare day of no wind. The heat felt heavy, and the dust swirls hung lazily in the air for several minutes. She wondered how many riders were out there, how far away they were… five, maybe six miles? Distance seemed to have little relevance in this country. She couldn’t tell if the riders were headed toward the ranch, or maybe, just riding past it.

She sat in a rocker on the wide veranda that stretched across the front of the Becker’s two-story frame home. It was lovely here, peaceful. Large pine trees encircled the house and barns, and today they were filled with colorful, chirping birds. On the north side of the trees was a combination store and restaurant, run by Sarah Becker, a thin but tough old woman with a heart as big as the valley that stretched into forever beyond the homestead.

Maggie leaned against the wide wooden slats of the rocker and closed her eyes. It was July twenty-first, and she’d been here over a full week… waiting. When Sage first dropped her off, Sarah prepared a wonderful, warm bath and washed her hair. After that she ate… then she slept… and slept… almost constantly, for nearly three full days. Sage was right. Sleep was what she’d needed. She was grateful that Sarah had indeed asked no questions. After living out here for years, nothing shocked or surprised the old woman.

Maggie put a hand to her belly, which was growing a little. Her waist was a bit thicker, but nothing the unknowing person would notice. Sarah gave her a lovely blue gingham dress to wear today. It belonged to one of the woman’s grown daughters who left clothes at the house for the times she visited.

My
Jessie
has
four
children
now
—
lives
down
in
Cheyenne. Her husband owns a dry goods store there,
Sarah said. She was proud of her children.

Maggie had decided she, too, would raise children of whom she could be proud, starting with the life that fluttered in her abdomen. Yes, this baby was indeed alive, and he or she was strong—a fighter. This baby could bring her the happiness she’d never known… fill the void in her heart left there when her pretty little Susan died.

She shook away the awful memory and concentrated on the approaching rider. Could it be Sage? The spirals of dust indeed seemed to be drawing closer now, and she was sure there was only one man coming, one man leading two horses. Her heart raced a little faster. Had he made any decisions? Was Kate all right?

And what about Joanna? She’d had time to think about the fact that Joanna would likely be at Paradise Valley when they arrived. The woman was yet another obstacle to be faced when they reached home… if Sage even took her back with him.

“Rider comin’… looks like he’s got a couple of packhorses with him.” Joe Becker came to stand beside Maggie on the veranda.

“I’ve been watching the dust,” Maggie answered. “I thought, at first, there were only two horses, but now, I see three. How far away do you think he is?”

Joe stretched and rubbed the back of his sunburned neck, then sat in a wooden chair next to Maggie’s rocker. “I figure about four miles. He’s ridin’ easy, most likely to save the horses cuz of the heat.”

Joe was old and thin like his wife, but there was nothing weak or soft about him in spite of the man’s wrinkles and age. Maggie could tell he was tough as nails, probably a lot stronger than he looked. She wondered how he and Sarah ended up running a restaurant and boardinghouse in outlaw country, but just as they’d asked no questions, Maggie obliged the same courtesy.

“I’ll bet you’re used to watching the horizon,” she told Joe.

“In this country? You bet.” He licked at dry, cracked lips. “Been watchin’ for newcomers for years. Always have my guns ready—and a couple of men to back me up—just in case, but most are respectful in spite of their backgrounds or their reasons for being out here. There’s kind of a code in this country.”

“I figured that out not long after I met Sage and his men.”

Joe nodded. “Ain’t many men out here who’d abuse you like them men did up yonder at Hole-In-The-Wall. Sage, he did right by killin’ them.” He scratched at stubble on his chin. “Sage is a good man. I’ve knowed him for years—since he wasn’t much more than a kid.”

Maggie continued watching the little clouds of dust as Joe talked.

“I could tell he was different from them men he ran with. All men have good and bad in them, Miss Maggie, and most of them wrestle with which one is gonna take over. Sage mentioned once over a meal that he’d like a ranch of his own someday, said he’d have a family too. Not many men who come to these parts care much about either one. I reckon most had a bad childhood that made them like they are, so they don’t much care about nothin’.”

Maggie thought about Kate and Newell and how hurt Sage must have been when the people he thought loved him kicked him out at an age when he needed guidance. She figured Sage’s biggest fear was rejection. His father rejected him, the people who raised him rejected him… and Joanna rejected him.

I
would
never
do
that
to
you, Sage.
Sage must figure she’d betrayed his trust, which was yet another rejection in his mind. He liked honesty, and she’d not been honest. It might be impossible to get back the love and trust they’d shared for such a short time. The hardest part was trying to imagine living without Sage Lightfoot.

Joe rambled on a little longer about the kind of men in these parts, then rose and said he was going inside to get his shotgun, “Just in case.” The rider in the distance finally began to take shape… three horses… one man who sat tall in the saddle. After another half hour, he came close enough for Maggie to recognize him.

It was Sage.