Somewhere Montana (4 page)

“Sage, are you all right?” His concern broke through her reminiscence. She squared her shoulders, determined he should never know her true feelings, and opened the door. His frown and the worry in those liquid brown eyes disturbed her.

She took a step toward him and her legs buckled. His arm snapped around her, his hand clamping along her rib cage, his fingertips brushing against her breast through the cotton flannel she wore. His other arm whipped under her thighs and she was again clasped to his naked torso. She shivered, but not in fear.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” he said quietly. “I would never hurt you.” He placed her gently on the bed and drew up the covers. Then he sat beside her and took both her hands in his. “Did you disrupt anything when you fell? You want Little Mouse to check your dressings?”

“Not necessary. I didn’t realize how weak I was until I stood up. Then the pain grabbed so quickly. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You in much pain now? You need your pain medication? Guaranteed you’ll get only one pill at a time from now on.”

“I only took one last time. When I thought I was safe in the cavern.”

“But there were two pills missing from the bottle.”

“I had taken one once I was in the air. I thought it would be safe enough. Couldn’t have the discomfort breaking my concentration.”

“I know about the knife wounds,” he said, a flash of anger in his eyes. “What about the knee?”

“Dislocated the patella in the rough landing. Had to fix it before I could get out of the plane.”

“Good God, Sage!” How much had she endured before they found her? “Why did you hide from us?”

“I couldn’t be sure who was coming. I told you. Marcos seems to know where I am every second. I had to be in a place where the advantage was mine.”

“Who is this Marcos? He seems to be stalking you. Couldn’t you get a protection order against him?”

“I went out with him once. It was a date arranged by a friend. He’s supposed to be a PI. Showed me all kinds of surveillance equipment he had in his car. But he turned out to be a real sleaze. Tried to force me into bed on the first date. I refused to go out with him again. He’d call or show up wherever I was. After Derek and I announced our engagement, his calls became more threatening.”

Her hands quivered in his, her breathing became more rapid, the pulse in her throat accelerated, and the fear grew in her eyes. He squeezed her hands firmly, but gently.

“Easy, Sage. Calm down.”

He spoke to her soothingly, as one would to a frightened animal.

“He can’t reach you here. You don’t have to continue. It’s only causing you more distress.”

“I have to finish it. If only to make you understand why I must leave. I can’t put all of you in danger, too.”

“We are not strangers to danger around here. I’ve seen worse than what one psychopath can do. We can protect you better than if you’re alone.”

“No! I can’t let you! He swore he would make anyone suffer who tried to help me. I was his until
he
ended the relationship, No woman had had the audacity to end it first.”

“Where did the attack take place?”

“In my bedroom in my parents’ home. I was getting ready to go out. Vanessa and I were meeting a couple other women for dinner, then we were going clubbing. I don’t know how he got in. It’s a gated community. He had me on the bed, straddling me, one hand cuffing my hands above my head. In his other hand he had a switchblade he kept flicking open and closed as he raved about if he couldn’t have me, nobody else would want me when he was finished.”

“Did he…did he
—
”

“Rape me? He didn’t get the chance. After he drew the tip of the blade down over my face, he used it to cut the straps on my dress, all the time leering and describing how he was going to enjoy my body. Vanessa arrived before he could carry out his threats. When she shouted up the stairs for me to hurry up, I screamed for her to call the police. That’s when he stabbed me and ran.”

“Where were the servants?” Mac’s murderous expression was a black cloud, anger emanating from him in violent waves.

“At the other end of the house. They couldn’t hear me. Vanessa called the ambulance.”

“Where were your parents?”

“Somewhere near Chamonix in the French Alps, opening a new resort. The doctor at the hospital contacted them. When Mother spoke with me, she let it be known I was interfering with the grand opening, which the French Ambassador was attending. Since I was able to talk with her, she judged I was in no danger. So they didn’t need to interrupt something important to fly home. Especially since they had to go from there to open a new hotel in Australia or New Zealand, or somewhere down there, immediately after. It would have thrown a huge glitch in their schedule.”

Sage could see the anger in his eyes. She remembered when the first camp she attended was over and he thought the couple who flew in to get her were her parents. She had been happy to see them, although reserved. He had been concerned when he discovered they were only the pilot and her nanny.

The tears started trickling from the corner of her eye across her temple to hide in her hair. She could see he wanted to hold her close, take away the mental anguish. To let her know someone loved her and would be there for her. But she knew she couldn’t accept that. Not from him. Not after the way he had rejected her.

Taking a deep breath, she withdrew her hands from his. “You’d better finish dressing so you can have your supper. We can finish our discussion another time. I’d like to rest now.” She couldn’t look at him. The anger she had seen in his grim expression she concluded was at her for putting him in the position of having to take care of her, like a stray dog. She vowed that as soon as her leg allowed her to take two steps and remain upright, she would be gone. No longer a child, she would never be a burden to someone again. She was free, over twenty-one, and her own person. Her problems were just that, hers alone.

She had to contact Vanessa and let her know she was okay, but not where she was. Would Marcos hurt her when he found out her part in assisting her escape? He knew Vanessa was her best friend. Would he be watching her? Somehow listening to her phone conversations? She would wait and call in the morning after Vanessa got to work.

* * * *

Mac reluctantly stood and left when she asked him to. He stopped in the doorway to look back at her, frowning. She had suddenly tuned him out. Why? He thought about their conversation while he donned his shirt and buttoned it. Well, it was more an interrogation on his part. The police had probably asked the same questions and more. Didn’t she believe he would help? Protect her? He pulled on his boots and slowly made his way down the stairs to the kitchen.

Two Feathers and Little Mouse looked up at him as he pulled out his chair and sat. After filling his plate, he silently began to eat. He was still processing all Sage had told him. Two Feathers laid down his fork and, folding his arms on the table, stared at him. Mac looked first at Two Feathers then to Little Mouse and pushed his plate away. Leaning his elbows on the table, he ran his fingers through his hair, as though assembling his thoughts.

He gave them the detailed report Sage had shared with him, including how she ended up pushing him away. They discussed how Marcos could have attached a tracking device to her.

“Mac, you’re going to have to figure a way to keep her here, or she’s going to rabbit on us as soon as she thinks she’s able,” said Two Feathers. “Even if it means telling her your true feelings.”

“I don’t think she’d believe me.” Mac sighed.

Little Mouse rose, saying she would go up and collect Sage’s tray, leaving the two men to talk.

“First we need to go over every bit of her stuff for anything unusual. If he attached something to the plane, it was probably rendered inoperable by the crash. I’ll still need to go back up there as soon as the weather permits to check it, inside and out,” said Mac. “What’s the most likely place he’d put one?”

“In something she would be bound to take with her,” answered Two Feathers. “Her purse or luggage, something very personal.”

“There was nothing on her,” Mac pondered. “She wasn’t wearing any jewelry. Her watch? I didn’t see a purse in her room. Where did Little Mouse put the suitcase and backpack?”

“On the floor of her closet.”

Little Mouse entered the room carrying a barely touched tray.

“She won’t have enough strength to go anywhere, if she eats as little as this every time. A hummingbird eats more.”

“She’s scared and in pain,” said Mac. “We should probably leave her alone for the night, but I want to check out her stuff as soon as possible.” Turning to Two Feather’s wife, he added, “Maybe you could bring down the articles.”

“And maybe it is time you faced your own demons,” suggested Little Mouse softly, yet with conviction. “By helping her, being the one she knows she can depend on, showing her you are the man she loves.”

“What?” His eyes open wide as he stared at her, a bewildered expression on his face. “You can’t be serious.”

Two Feathers chuckled at his expression when Little Mouse dropped that piece of information into the conversation.

“Oh, yes we are,” said the old man. “Seems everybody around here knows, except you. While you were away, she would come to the ranch, just to visit for a day or two. Your mother would catch her staring at your picture in the living room. When Marla would suggest she write to you, she’d close up faster than the mountain flower at sunset.”

“That’s when I’d get the letter from Mom with ‘Sage says hi and be safe’. I tried to write to her several times, but I always ended up tearing it up. Maybe if I had, she wouldn’t be in the mess she’s in now.”

“Maybe you should have gone to see her when you got home like you said you would.”

“It was too late then. She was already engaged and I wasn’t exactly looking my best,” answered Mac, absently running his finger over the scar.

“She’s not looking at the outside. She is searching what’s inside,” Little Mouse stated. “Or are you afraid to face her, now you know the facts?”

“Just get the hot pack ready and I’ll take it up,” grumbled Mac.

Mac knocked on the partially open door and stuck his head in. “May I come in? I have the hot pack for your knee,” he said, approaching the bed.

“I had wrapped it to give it more stability. Why not just wrap it again? At least I’d be able to make it to the bathroom by myself.” She looked askance at him.

“Need to get the swelling down first. Then we can think about wrapping it.” He turned back the covers and gently placed the warm, moist pack on the bruised and swollen joint. Her sharp intake of breath and the jerk of her body had his head whipping up to study her face. He could see the pain etched on it.
Not wrapping it any time soon. Not giving her a chance to slip away. She’s just stubborn enough to try.

He could see how tense she was. She held her left arm cradled in her right hand. Tears threatened to break loose, adding a shimmer to the bright blue eyes. He needed her to relax. Hard to do when her side and shoulder probably ached and burned and her knee throbbed.

“Shall I get you a pain pill?” asked Mac.

“No. They apparently knock me out for a long period, if today is anything to go by. I can’t be.”

“Physically your body was depleted. You lost a lot of blood. You couldn’t combat the effects of the medicine. You can’t rest if you’re fighting pain. It’s nine o’clock. At least you’ll get a good night’s sleep.” He strode into the bathroom and returned with the pill and a glass of water. “Down the hatch. And don’t try hiding it to spit out when my back is turned, because I’ll check to make sure you swallowed it.”

She complied with his order, placing the pill in her mouth and drinking half the glass of water. Then she opened her mouth and lifted her tongue so he could see it was gone, all the while glowering at him. A smile turned up the corner of his lips and she had to look away. He could see her heart pounded in the bouncing pulse at her throat and the flush rise over her cheeks. Was she still affected by him?

“I want to check out your luggage,” he said, stepping to the closet and pulling out the suitcase first. He opened it on the far side of the bed. Taking a small halogen flashlight from his pocket, he started to go over it inch by inch.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Want to be sure there are no tracking devices.” His head bent close as he looked and felt around the open edges.

“Marcos couldn’t have gotten to them. They aren’t kept in my room. Besides, he’d have no reason to think I was going anywhere.”

“When did the attack occur?”

“Two days ago.”

“Two days!” He snapped erect and leveled a furious look at her, cursing under his breath before counting to ten. “You should still be in the hospital, not traipsing around the country. You could have been killed in the crash or bled out before we reached you. And you’re talking of leaving now? Like hell you are! When did you leave the hospital?”

“The next morning. I had to. Marcos made bail and he knew where I was.”

“How did you manage to pull off that harebrained scheme with the plane?” He slammed the suitcase shut and shoved it into the closet, then yanked out the backpack. Sage looked worried when he dropped it onto the bed.

“My friend, Vanessa, helped me.”

“She the
friend
who set you up with him in the first place?” His anger had not abated. He paced back and forth beside the bed, one hand on his hip, the other running through his hair. Turning to face her, he saw the fear in her eyes, the tears rolling down her cheeks, and it took the wind out of his sails. “I’m sorry, Sage. I shouldn’t be yelling at you. This whole scheme is scaring the crap out of me! Go on.”

“She wasn’t the one who introduced me to him. She drove me home from the hospital. We worked out a plan in the car. It was where we felt safest. She dropped me off and went home. I told the servants I was going to stay with her a few days. Then I packed and stowed everything in my car. I waited about an hour, then had Henry bring my car to the front door. I figured if Marcos was watching, he’d see me leave with only my purse. When I got to Vanessa’s, she was watching for me and opened the garage door so I could drive inside. I don’t think I took a decent breath until that door closed.”

“So what was the plan from there? How did you manage to elude him to get to the airport?” Mac searched the backpack, running the seams between his finger and thumb, no spot escaping his scrutiny. He pulled her wallet from a side pocket and opened it.

“I used her cell phone to call the mechanic at the hangar to ready Dad’s plane. I used the excuse it had been sitting too long and needed airtime. If Marcos had managed to get into the hangar, he probably would tag only my plane, the smaller single engine prop. With his ego, he’d figure I couldn’t fly the twin engine jet. While we waited, she cut my hair so the wig would fit better.”

“She has black hair? You traded places?”

She nodded, frowning at him as he searched her wallet.

“When we knew the plane would be ready, she put on the blond wig and my clothes and left in my car. We had already switched my stuff to her car. I watched from the window and saw his car pull away from the curb to follow. I had even given her the engagement ring so it would be seen on her hand when she left. She promised to return it to Derek for me. I gave them a few minutes, then drove to the airport. The mechanic took her car to the hotel where she works. I took off and here I am.”

“How far did you expect to get? There’s only forty dollars in here,” he said, holding up her wallet. “That wouldn’t fuel the plane. And you wouldn’t have had enough fuel to fly to Whitehorse and back to here.”

“I planned to get a job until I had enough to move on or if he was getting too close. When I crashed and realized where I was, I figured I was safer yet.”

The closer he got to the bottom of her backpack, the more nervous she acted. She clutched the bedclothes, darting her eyes from the pack to him and then back to the backpack.
What are you hiding?

“Or you could ditch the plane somewhere and continue on this,” he said, pulling two thick bundles of one hundred dollar bills from the secret compartment at the bottom of the backpack. “Where did this come from?”

“Father always kept five thousand in a box under a false bottom in a drawer in his desk. He jokingly called it his mad money. Well, I was mad enough, so I took it. I left my purse, credit cards, anything I thought could be traced with Vanessa and I couldn’t stop by the bank.”

“I wondered why you were starting to look worried. This,” he said, waving the money at her, “will be best kept in the safe in the office. If that is what it takes to keep you here, then by damn you won’t get your hands on it.” He was hurt and angry that she didn’t trust him enough to confide in him. It had been like pulling teeth to get the whole story out of her. He had to leave before he said any more. Cool down before he followed the urge to shake some sense into her. He grabbed the money and walked out.

After securing the money in the safe, he returned and stood in the doorway watching her. She was leaning back against the pillows, more relaxed, the pain lessened from her gentle features. Good, the medicine was working. He thought he should help her slide down flat so she could sleep. The itch to hold her again in his arms, to tell her how he felt, would have to wait. Now was not the right time. When would be? Would she even believe him? She needed time to heal and get through the trouble following her. He walked into the room, picked up the backpack, and stood it in the closet. Her eyes opened and she watched him as he came around the bed to reach under the covers, removing the now cold warm pack. She gasped and jumped as the movement jarred her leg.

“Shhh. It’s okay. Just me. We need to get you settled for the night. Need to make another trip before that?” he asked, nodding toward the bathroom. She blushed and shook her head no. “Then I’m going to lift you and slide you down so you can get comfortable. I want you to be able to sleep. You’re safe here. Let the medication do its job. Don’t fight it. Your body and mind need the rest. How’s the pain level?”

“Tolerable. It’s taken the edge off already. But I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep.”

He could see the fear building in her eyes again. “We are here, Sage. You are not alone,” he said quietly, sliding his arms under her to ease her down into the bed. The whimper of pain she tried to stifle made him wince. “I’m sorry. The last thing in the world I would do is hurt you.”

“Couldn’t be helped. Right now the least little movement makes me cringe.”

Her eyes were beginning to get glassy. He sat beside her and tucked the covers around her.

“Your mother,” she began, tears forming.

“Used to tuck you in like this.” he finished for her. “After I brought you down off the mountain, she moved you here to the house. She didn’t want you in the bunkhouse with the older girls. You should have heard the chewing out she gave them. To the point of threatening to send them home in disgrace.”

“I didn’t deserve the way she treated me. Not after all the worry I caused her. Then, when I got upset in the middle of the night, you used to sneak in and hold me until I stopped crying. After what I put all of you through, it’s a wonder you let me come back.”

“You were irresistible. I think they would have adopted you if they could,” he said with a smile. “In fact, I know Grandfather Two Feathers and Grandmother Little Mouse look on you as a granddaughter. You are special.”

“Why do you call them that? They’re not really your grandparents.”

“It’s a title of respect. They are elders and both are shamans. But they have chosen to live off the reservation. They are of the Nez Perce tribe. Grandfather said that the Sky Father and the Earth Mother came to him in a vision and set his feet on the correct path. They showed up here when I was about fifteen. It was soon after that Dad started the survival camps and began the herd of Appaloosas.”

“Aren’t shamans supposed to have magic powers?”

“Some people believe that. It’s not magic. Only knowledge the rest of us don’t have. If you think they can wave a magic wand over you and you’ll be all better, not going to happen. You’ll have to heal like any other human. Tomorrow I’ll hunt up a sling for your arm. And we’ll keep hot packs on the knee.”

“And I suppose I’ll have to stay in this bed,” she grumbled. “I think I’m about to go out like a light. I hope that one little pill doesn’t knock me for a loop like it did today.”

“I hope it does. Then maybe you’ll sleep through the night. It’s what you need,” he added, standing up. He couldn't resist her lost-little-girl look. He bent down to lightly brush his lips across hers. Her hand grabbed his arm as she returned the kiss, her tongue licking across his bottom lip. No, he couldn’t go there, even though it kicked his libido up a notch or two. She didn’t know what she was doing to him. He had to be the strong one. Regretfully he drew away, pulling himself back under control, although the ridge tenting the fly of his jeans showed where his imagination had run to.

“Sage. Enough,” he said with strength he didn’t feel. The blood was still running hot through his body. “I don’t seduce women who are under the influence. Goodnight!” With that he turned out the lamp and fled to his room.

What the hell were you thinking, Bonehead?
He hadn’t hardened that quick in a long while. In fact, he could pinpoint it—eight years. Hopefully she hadn’t seen it. That wickedly innocent look on her face had brought an ache with it that wouldn’t be appeased very soon.

He stripped out of his clothes and walked naked across the room to pull a pair of pajama bottoms from the bureau drawer. As he shook them out, he thought his mother would be pleased he at last was wearing what she had given him three Christmases ago. His usual night attire was just his birthday suit, but in deference to the guest in the next room, he couldn’t have his candle pointing the way.

Mac awoke to the sound of someone crying. He had been dreaming about Sage, the twelve year old Sage, and it was déjà vu all over again. He slipped out of bed and made his way barefoot into her room. When he turned on the lamp she winced. He laid his hand on her forehead. No fever.

“What’s wrong? You need another pain pill?” he asked, sitting beside her. She shook her head no, her tear stained face tying his insides in knots.

“Hold me? Like you used to? Please?” she whimpered.

“Sage, you don’t know what you’re asking. You’re not that child anymore.”

“Tonight I am. I want my friend back. The comforter. The one who chased the monsters away. The one who wouldn’t let me give up.”

“How can I refuse? But you can’t sit up in any comfort. Wait.” He walked around the bed and crawled under the covers, sliding over next to her. Carefully he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close against him, her head on his shoulder. This was going to be a long night, what was left of it.

* * * *

Sage woke in the morning, alone in the bed. Had she dreamed he’d held her during the night? No, the indent on the pillow where he laid his head was still there. She remembered the feel of his erection nestled between them. He had wanted her. Because she was Sage? Or because she was a warm body with the feminine attributes that piqued a man’s interest?

Her comforter had been there. The one who had taught her to believe in herself. The man who had taught her how to love. No wonder no other man had interested her. They never measured up to her knight in cowboy boots and a Stetson hat.