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Authors: Marcia Lynn McClure

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BOOK: The Touch of Sage
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Well, Sage has a way with…with sage!

Livie said.

Haven

t you noticed that big barrel out by the back door, Reb?


Never come in by way of the back door,

Reb said.


Well, that barrel is just ready to bust apart it

s so full of sage,

Livie explained.

And let me tell you, all of us sitting around this table are mighty glad.
Aren

t we?

Sage felt her blush intensify as everyone nodded.


Miss Sage Willows,

Reb said.

I have half a mind to drag ya back to the ranch house with me.
This is a fine meal!

Sage blushed vermillion, jumping as she felt
Scarlett
kick her shin under the table.

I told you,

the woman whispered.
Sage kicked
Scarlett
back, afraid Reb would hear her.

Still the knowledge he was pleased with her cooking, that she had found a way to get his attention, elated Sage.
As much as she tried to argue otherwise, she was overjoyed at the attention from him.

 

Eugenia looked from Sage to her nephew and back again. Normally Sage only made her cornbread and sage stuffing on very special occasions.
Reverend Tippetts and
Scarlett
were no special occasion
,
and neither was Mr.
Winnery,
and she smiled.
Reb had caught her young friend

s eye!
No.
It was more than that.
He had captured Sage

s attention
,
and nothing had captured Sage

s attention for a very long time.

Yet she fretted.
Reb
’s past, his pain—
would it interfere more than she already worried it would?
Still, Reb
’s delight—
his genuine compliment to Sage
’s cooking—
it was rare.
Not that he had been rude or behaved horrendously before.
Not that he hadn

t been
a polite child.
But his pain had hardened him—
taken awa
y his ability to accept people—
to trust them.
Though he was always kind, Eugenia knew many times it was forced and false.
His compliment to Sage, however—
it was deeply sincere, and Eugenia smiled.


After supper,
Rose
and Livie helped stack the dishes in the kitchen sink before everyone retired to the parlor.
Sage never allowed herself, or anyone else, to hop up and do the dishes immediately after supper.
She felt a meal should be enjoyed long after it had been eaten.
Cleaning up could wait.
And besides, parlor time with the widows and her other guests
was
just about the only true moments of happiness Sage had known in the past few years.

She sat on the sofa next to Scarlett and smiled as Reverend Tippetts told everyone about Winnery’s bloated heifer.
He was such a dear man and the kind of preacher who didn’t own an air of self-righteous arrogan
ce. She admired that about him—his humility—
his ability to be true to God by being true to himself.

Sage glanced
to
Reb.
He sat across the room in the big chair by the fireplace
. S
he was embarrassed when he caught her looking at him and winked at her. For Pete’s sake!
He was a shameless flirt. Either that or he was far too casual with women.
Sage looked away quickly and tried to concentrate on what Reverend Tippetts was saying.

“Well…Winnery and I both knew…if we didn’t let the air out, then that heifer’d just up and die.
Ain’t that right, Reb?” Reverend Tippetts said.
Reb nodded.
“Me and Winnery…well, you ladies know
this is our first try at raising our own beef.
So I saw Reb in town and asked him what to do…and done it.


The heifer

s fine now,

Winnery
said.

Livie and
Rose
looked at one another, perplexed expressions on both their faces.

Well…how did you get the air out?

Livie asked.


Oh, for cryin

in the bucket,

Mary grumbled.


Oh, hush, Mary,

Rose
said.

Not all of us were raised in the pig pen.

Sage smiled, glancing at Reb who smiled at her, indicating his own enjoyment of Mary and Livie

s banter.


Probably just stabbed it with your pocketknife.
Right?

Eugenia said.


Stabbed what with your pocketknife?

Livie asked.


The heifer

s belly,

Reb answered.


What?

Livie and
Rose
exclaimed in unison, perplexed expressions replaced with horrified ones.


It

s the best way when it gets that bad,

Eugenia explained.

You just shove your knife in their belly, give a twist so the wound don

t seal up too fast…and that lets the air out.

Sage smiled as both Livie and
Rose
began fanning themselves with their hands, feigning the need to faint from morbid revelation.


I

ll never eat beef again,

Livie sighed.


Me neither,

Rose
said, nodding.


Oh, for Pete

s sake,

Mary groaned with disgust.


You

ll just have to make fried chicken and bacon from now on, Sage,

Rose
said.

I don

t think I can eat beef again knowing what them cows go through.


They slit their throats and butcher

em up before the meat ever gets in yer stew,
Rose
!
And yer worried about
Winnery’
s heifer getting poked with a pocket knife?

Mary asked.

And besides…I

m sure we could tell ya both a thing or two

bout where yer fried chicken and bacon come from.


Oh, I know where it all comes from, Mary…you old nag,

Rose
said.

I just don

t like to think about it.
That

s all.

Mary shook her head.

Ya know, Sage,

she began,

we oughta get Reb to give us a cow when his herd gets here.
Maybe these two ninnies need some toughenin

up.

Sage smiled.
Oh, how she loved these people—the widows, the r
everend and his wife,
Winnery, and—
she paused in her thoughts as her eyes fell to Reb.
No.
She couldn
’t love Reb Mitchell. T
here was no time for it
;
she was too busy.
And anyway, he couldn

t possibly lo
ve her in return. He had plans—
plans for reviving his aunt

s ranch, for his herd
,
which would soon arrive from
Santa Fe
.
Even if his plans did include a woman, Sage knew it wouldn
’t be a weathered
old spinster who ran a boarding house
.

She wa
tched him closely for a moment—
the rather alluring manner in which he lounged in
the big parlor chair—
the way he reached up and scratched the whiskers on his chin, how his eyes seemed to sparkle when he smiled or laughed.


Oh!

Sage suddenly exclaimed.

Dessert!
I forgot all about dessert!


Well, I

m glad ya remembered it,

Reb said.

I love dessert.


Me too,

Sage couldn

t help saying as she smiled at him.
Oh, he was delicious!

Chapter Three

             


And I

ve got Mary

s liniment here if ya wanna take it on back with ya, Sage,

Mr. Getcher said.

It

ll save her the trip in.


Thank you,

Sage said.

Her ankles have been givin

her fits these past few days.

Mr. Getcher chuckled.

And I bet ya been hearin

about it, too.

Sage smiled and nodded.

She

s a cantankerous old bird, that Mary Fa
r
then,

he said, still smiling.

But a body can

t help but take to her.

Gareth Getcher owned the general store in town.
He was a chubby man with dimples on his cheeks and very little gray hair left on his head.
He had always reminded Sage of someone who should

ve owned a bakery in some big city somewhere.
Ever smiling and friendly, Mr. Getcher was a dear soul
,
and Sage was very fond of him.


I hear Eugenia

s nephew has everythin

ready out at the ranch,

Mr. Getcher said.

Hear tell his herd is on its way up from
Santa Fe
.


That

s right,

Sage confirmed.

Everywhere she went people were talking about Eugenia Smarthing

s nephew.
It was almost irritating.
Didn

t folks have anything better to do?
Every conversation was
“Reb Mitchell”
this and
“Eugenia’s nephew”
that.
He had literally become the talk of the town
,
and secretly Sage resented
it. She had come to feel very—
well, possessive of Reb.
He was Eugenia

s nephew after all, and Sage had known him before anyone else.
Since his arrival, everyone in the town had taken to Reb
,
and Sage was jealous.
The fact worried her too.
She had no right, no reason to feel the way she did where he was concerned.
Still, s
he felt it, and it troubled her—
for Reb seemed to belong to everyone.
Every woma
n he met fell in love with him—
in one manner or another

and she feared the day would come when he would fall in love with one of them in return.
The thought made her stomach ache.

Why, just that very morning, Sage had walked past Milly Michaels, Katie Bird
,
and Dotty Betten standing outside the dress
shop talking—
talking about Reb Mitchell, of course.
It had been Milly who stopped Sage and inquired about Reb

s welfare.


Have ya coaxed him out to the boardin

house for supper yet this week, Sage?

Milly asked.
Milly Michaels was all of seventeen years old, but she tried to make people think she was o
lder—
more mature and wiser to life.


His aunt had him out for supper last night, Milly,

Sage said.

Along with Reverend and Mrs. Tippetts and Mr.
Winnery
.
We all had a fine time.

Although Sage was irritated with Milly

s implication that
Sage chased after Reb the way Milly
did, Sage tried to appear indifferent.


Oh
, come on
,
Sage,

Milly said, unconvinced of Sage

s lack of concern.

You

re old, but you

re not dead.
Surely he

s caught yer eye more than you let on.

The words echoed through Sage

s mind like pieces of a shattered windowpane.
Even now standing in the general store conversing with Mr. Getcher, the memory of Milly

s words hurt.


Reb says it

s a fine herd he

s bringin

up,

Mr. Getcher said, pulling Sage

s thoughts back to the moment at hand.


Miss Eugenia seems to trust in it,

she said.


Well,

Mr. Getcher continued,

He

s a fine boy.
A fine boy.
He

ll make some gal a good husband.

Mr. Getcher winked at Sage
,
and the sick feeling in her stomach thickened

for she knew it wouldn
’t be her—
old Sage Willows, the town spinster.

Sage force
d
a smile and sighed.

Well, I best be gettin

back.
If I

m not there when the ladies take to rummy…fists will be flyin

for certain.

Mr. Getcher chuckled.

Well, ya have a nice afternoon, Sage,

he said.

And tell them ladies I send my regards.


I will,

Sage said, smiling at the man.
He was a kind
hearted soul
,
and Sage knew he rather liked Mary.
She giggled at the thought of cranky old Mary and sweet-natured Mr. Getcher being fond of one another.

Sage stepped out of the general store
and started toward the boarding house
.
But no sooner had her thoughts of romance between Mary and Mr. Getcher caused her to smile
than
she felt anxiety rise in her when she heard Forest Simmons
’s
angry voice behind her.


Sage Willows!

he nearly shouted.

That mutt of yers done put my lady in the puppy way last month!

Inhaling deeply, trying to find the strength to deal with yet another altercation with Mr. Simmons, Sage turned to face him.


I

m sorry, Mr. Simmons,

she told him.

I

ve
given him over to Reb Mitchell. W
hat more do you want me to do?

Mr. Simmons
’s
eyes narrowed.

Well,

he began,
“i
f ya don

t want to take care of my lady and her litter

til them dadburned pups are weaned…then I

ll just have to drown

em.

Sage felt sick.
She hated Forest Simmons!
Hated him for the mean old man he was

hated him for offering to marry her on several occasions.
Forest Simmons had proposed to Sage three times.
Each time he had told her he was willing to save her from spinsterhood if she would marry him and birth him a few boys.
The thought always made Sage want to vomit, but she had kindly turned him down each time instead.
Even if he hadn

t been old and ugly, any man who would drown puppies made Sage

s stomach churn.


You know I can

t see puppies drowned, Mr. Simmons,

she
said
.

But…I…

At that very moment, Bullet came bounding up to Sage, sitting at her feet and panting happily as he looked up at her.
Sage felt a wave of respite wash over her, for if Bullet was nearby then so was his owner.


Hey there, Forest,

Reb greeted, sauntering over from
the
blacksmith
’s shop across the way
.
Reb reached out and took
Forest

s hand, shaking it firmly.

I hear yer lady dog is expectin

a litter,

he said.
Sage wanted to burst into tears of relief at the sound of his voice.
She looked to him and smiled when he quickly winked at her.


Yep.
She is…no thanks to yer mutt, here,

Forest
grumbled.


Oh, he

s a good dog…ain

t ya, Bullet?

Reb said, patting his dog on the head.

And I was wonderin

if you

d be willin

to let me take that litter off yer hands once they

re weaned.

Sage

s mouth gaped open slightly.
She knew full well Reb had no use for a litter of pups.
He already had Bullet.


The whole litter?

Forest
asked, disbelieving Reb

s sincerity.


Yep,

Reb confirmed.

My saddle pal, Charlie Dugger
,
is headin

up here from
Santa Fe
with my cattle
,
and they make up a purty big herd.
I think havin

a few more dogs like Bullet around the ranch might come in handy.
Charlie

s wantin

a dog of his own whether or not he stays on with me…and I just thought ya might be lookin

to give them pups away.

Forest
looked at Sage.
His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Well, I don

t know…

he said.
Sage was furious at his antics and couldn

t hold her tongue.


I

m certain Mr. Simmons wouldn

t mind handin

the litter over to you, Reb,

she said, smiling sarcastically at the old man.

He was just now tellin

me how he planned on drownin

them once they were born.

Mr. Simmons
’s
face tightened as he glared at Sage, but
he
spoke to Reb.

I just don

t have the time to run around after a litter of pups.
I told Sage here she

d have to take my lady and the pups in

til they were weaned.
I don

t have the time for it.


Drown

em?

Reb exclaimed.

Hell!
I mean…heck,

he corrected, glancing to Sage.

I

ll take yer lady and her pups

til the litter is weaned.
Better havin


em out at the ranch than cooped up at the boardin

house with the ladies.

BOOK: The Touch of Sage
11.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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