Authors: The Lone Texan
Jodi Thomas (22 page)
He stilled as her hands moved over him. “We got all night,” he finally answered. “This is kind of our wedding night, honey.”
“Stop calling me honey.”
“I heard the captain call you that once.” He smiled, his eyes moving down her body. “Somehow, it kind of fits you. Your skin’s got that warm glow, like you’ve been kissed by the sun all over.” He bit back pain before adding, “Sometime when I’m not bleeding, I wouldn’t mind finding out if you’re honey-colored all over.”
Sage pretended not to listen. She had work to do. Blood dripped from a wound on his left arm just below the shoulder. It wasn’t as bad as she’d thought; the bullet had gone through without hitting a bone. She crossed to the washstand and found fresh water and a towel that looked to be almost clean. She went back to his side and began doing what she’d been trained to do.
“Maybe as your husband, I’ll have time to make sure the sun didn’t miss a spot.”
He groaned when she rubbed the towel across the bullet wound.
“I’m not married to you, Drummond. Not even if that was an outlaw wedding downstairs.” She felt him flinch as she patted the wound, but he didn’t make a sound. She gentled her care and leaned close for a better look.
After she’d stopped most of the bleeding, he whispered close to her ear, “But I paid two hundred dollars for you, honey.”
She straightened suddenly, aware of how near he was and, even wounded, his eyes told her he was very much aware of her. Pulling one of the pillowcases off, she began to make bandages. “I’ll give you the money back when we get out of here. Then you can consider us divorced.”
“I’d rather have you.”
“We’re not having this discussion. Turn over on your stomach so I can have a look where the bullet exited.”
He pulled off the rest of his vest, and then his shirt, and then did as she ordered. The sight of his muscular back surprised her, as did the scars that ran across it. Sage put her hand out, almost touching the marks of a long-ago cruelty.
She gently began. “How’d you find me?” If he talked, he might not think about the pain she knew she was causing him.
“I trailed you, and I’m guessing you took care to leave me a sign now and then. A shoe print, a scrap of handkerchief. Each clue told me you were still alive. I could have moved in earlier, but I knew I’d take the chance of them killing you if I fired.”
“They wanted me here as a doctor, not as a woman. They treated me with less care than one might a stolen horse.”
“So, how’d you end up on the auction table tonight?”
She shrugged. “I kept waiting for the perfect time to escape. Then I saw a hurting man and had to help. He turned out to be Hanover, the ruler of this little slice of hell. I didn’t know how rotted his brain was until I saved his worthless life. When he got better, he objected to me not agreeing to live with him.”
“You’re a hard woman to talk into anything. I almost feel sorry for the fool.”
She smiled and began to bandage his wound. “Thanks for coming for me. It would have been days, maybe weeks, before my brothers could get to me, but I knew you’d come.”
He twisted as she worked. “You’re welcome.” He smiled up at her. “How about we stay awhile and make use of the bed?”
She smiled back. “Excuse me for a minute while I reload.”
CHAPTER 23
S
AGE PACED AS DRUM STOOD LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW. They’d talked it over and decided to wait until the gambling was well under way before trying to sneak out. Fifty-to-two odds didn’t sound all that good, but the later it got, the more men would be asleep or passed out.
AGE PACED AS DRUM STOOD LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW. They’d talked it over and decided to wait until the gambling was well under way before trying to sneak out. Fifty-to-two odds didn’t sound all that good, but the later it got, the more men would be asleep or passed out.
Sage stopped and put her fist on her hips. “I can’t believe you came in here to rescue me without having any kind of plan to get away. I was in enough trouble, and now you’re here. I’m not better off than I was on my own.”
Drummond was starting to wonder why he’d come at all. Every time she was out of his sight, he forgot how irritating and bossy the woman could be.
And she’d shot him!
His arm ached, and the wound hurt like hell, and all she’d done was complain. He sat down on the corner of the bed and checked his gun one more time.
And she’d shot him!
His arm ached, and the wound hurt like hell, and all she’d done was complain. He sat down on the corner of the bed and checked his gun one more time.
He glanced at her blouse, still open enough for him to see the swell of her breasts rise each time she breathed. He could listen to anything as long as he had that view, he decided: honey-colored skin framed in white lace.
“Stop looking at my breasts,” Sage demanded without trying to pull her blouse together again.
“I wasn’t,” he lied and forced his gaze to her face.
She moved closer. “Yes you were.”
He fought to keep from looking down. They were at eye level to him, the two most beautiful breasts now almost bare right in front of him. She was torturing him. That was it. Shooting him hadn’t worked, so now she’d try torturing him to death.
Since the day he’d met her, he’d thought of how she’d feel beneath him when she became his woman. He’d thought of how her breasts would look, and damn if they didn’t appear to be living up to his dreams. Her frame might be small, but her breasts were definitely a handful.
A tap at the door saved him from sure ruin.
“Get in bed under the covers,” he whispered as he moved to the door.
She scrambled to follow his order.
“Who is it!” Drum sounded angry, bothered, just like a man who’d been taking his pleasure.
“A fellow at the bar told me he lost a bet to you tonight and said he had to send you up a meal if you won the bid so you’d have enough strength to go all night.” The female voice sounded tired and a bit out of breath. “Do you want it or not?”
Drum glanced back to make sure Sage was covered and pulled his gun. “Leave the tray beside the door.”
“All right.” Dishes clattered.
He waited several seconds, then opened the door an inch. The tray was there. The hallway looked empty. Kneeling down, he kept the gun ready and tugged the food in.
Then he locked the bolt back in place and walked to the edge of the bed. He pulled away the covers enough to see Sage’s face. “It’s all right. Only a food delivery.” Before she could protest, he leaned down and touched his lips to hers.
“Food,” she said without reacting to his kiss. “We’ve got food.”
He laughed when she ran for the tray. She put it in the center of the bed and began eating. He watched her trying not to act like she was starving, trying to offer him half, then helping him eat his portion.
They didn’t find the note until they were almost finished. One slip of paper had been tucked beneath the last of the bread.
He handed it to her, and she read the quick scribble. “‘Wait one hour or more for my sign, then go through the door at the end of the hall. I’ll clear the way.’”
Sage looked up, confused. “You didn’t come alone?”
“I was followed by the Ranger Daniel Torry. If he stays sober downstairs, he’ll keep his word.”
Sage looked down at her clothes as she finished off the last bite of bread. “I’ll get ready.”
While the hour passed, she combed her hair and braided it into a single thick braid down her back and put on an old shirt she found in one of the drawers. Drum laced his vest over it, offering some warmth.
They waited by the door, ready to move for a long while before they heard shouts roll up from below. Someone had won a big pot. Men yelped, and one round was fired that just happened to hit the light halfway up the stairs.
Drum knew it was what they’d been waiting for. He grabbed Sage’s hand, and they ran down the hallway. At the end, they found the stairs and a guard that looked like he’d been clubbed from behind. Sage would have taken time to check the man, but Drum pulled her on.
In a few steps they were outside in the blackness behind the saloon. He stopped, getting his bearings, then tightened his grip on her hand, signaling her to wait.
A moment later they heard a low whistling to the right. By the time they felt their way along the side of the building, his eyes had adjusted enough to see two horses: Satan and a bay that barely looked broke.
Drum took the reins of Satan. “Are you going with us?” he whispered to Daniel.
The Ranger shook his head. “If I leave, it’ll cause trouble for my pa. I came in with him. I’ll leave tomorrow with the wagon. If I don’t catch up to you, I’ll see you in Galveston.”
He touched his hat when he handed the reins of the other horse to Sage. “Sorry about this bay. It was the only one I could find that didn’t look like it might be missed tonight. Drum told me you could ride any horse, but this one may challenge your skill.” He turned back to Drum. “You just get the doc back safe. I’ll cause enough trouble here that maybe they won’t miss you too soon. As soon as I know you’re through the pasture, I’ll knock one of the fence posts down and let out all the horses. It’ll wipe out your trail and add headache to hangover for the men in the morning.”
He took off his hat and placed it on Sage’s head. “You take care now, miss.”
“Thank you.” Sage kissed his cheek, knowing full well the danger he was putting himself in for them. “Get back to Galveston as quick as you can.”
Daniel walked into the saloon without another word.
Drummond led the way around the buildings toward the wall of canyon that lay beyond the fields and corrals. Years ago he’d found a slit in the rock wide enough for one horse. If it wasn’t still there, they’d have to ride through Skull Alley. If he could find the slit, they’d be in for quite a ride to get out.
When they were well away from the buildings, he said, “You know that secret path that leads over the mountains behind your ranch?”
“Of course. No one knows about that way out but my brothers and me.”
“And me.” He smiled. “Though all three of your brothers swore they’d hunt me down if I ever told anyone. But that path is kind of like the one we’re taking out, only it doesn’t go over hills, it crosses canyons. It’s also dangerous.”
She seemed to know what he was asking. “I’m right behind you. I don’t mind the ride. I can handle the bay.” She leaned forward, talking gently to the horse.
“I know. I’ve watched you. I have a feeling that if one of us takes a tumble, it’ll be me, not you.”
They climbed out of the pasture and onto rocks. All light from the homes had disappeared, but the moon offered enough glow to help them pick a path. By dawn they’d slipped into what looked like a cave with open spots in the roof. The air was cool and damp and smelled of bat guano. Drum heard Sage whispering to her horse, calming him with each step.
Satan had been with Drum so long, he followed with the slightest tug of the reins.
About noon they reached the mouth of the cave on the other side and decided to rest in the shadows, just in case men above were looking for them.
Drum unsaddled the horses and brushed them down, then sat where he could see out without being seen. Both the rifles were within easy reach. If anyone came within a hundred feet, he’d know it, and no one could spot the opening from the top of the cliffs.
Sage spread her blanket down so that she faced him. Her feet bumped against the side of his leg as she wiggled, building her nest.
He didn’t say anything to her. They’d been silent for hours.
She bumped his leg again. He didn’t react.
Finally, after ten minutes of silence, she asked, “What is it? What is the matter with you?”
“Besides the fact that fifty men are tracking us right now planning to kill us on sight?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Besides that. You haven’t said a handful of words to me since we left town.”
“It’s nothing.”
“No,” she corrected. “It’s something. I didn’t grow up with three brothers without learning that when a man is silent, something is bothering him.”
He felt like a fool for ever thinking about the way she’d kissed Daniel for bringing her a horse. “All right. You asked. Daniel handed you a horse, and you kissed him. I saved your life, and you shot me.” Drum was sorry he said anything before the words were out. She’d probably give him a lecture on being childish, or worse, tell him she fancied Daniel Torry. He never knew what she’d do. Maybe that was what fascinated him about Sage McMurray. She was like watching a tornado.
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