The Touch of Sage (33 page)

Sage frowned, listening intently, trying to imagine a young Mary facing down a mountain lion.
For a moment, she could see the scene in her mind
’
s eye and realized
—knowing Mary as she did—
it was not an unexpected story.

“
It sorta hissed at me once,
”
Mary continued,
“
showin
’
its teeth.
I was so scared, I couldn
’
t move.
I was still holdin
’
that pig down when that ol
’
cat swiped at me with one of its front paws.
For a second, the pain was so bad I thought that the thing had tore my arm clean off!
Mama pulled me back, snatched up the pig I
’
d been holdin
’
, took hold of its hind legs
,
and threw it off to one side.
The ol
’
cat musta liked the smell of the pig
’
s blood more
’
n mine,
’
cause it went after the pig and left me be.
My daddy come a-
runnin
’
up
’
bout then, leveled his ol
’
Brown Bess
,
and blew a hole in that ol
’
cat
’
s head the size of
Texas
!
”
Sage could only shake her head, once again awed to silence by one of Mary Farthen
’
s tender childhood stories.
Sometimes Sage wondered how Mary lived long enough to get married and raise a family.

“
Look here,
”
Mary said, reaching around to unbutton her dress.
Sage watched, astonished as Mary proceeded to slip her left shoulder and arm out of her dress.
“
See them scars?
”
the old woman asked.
“
That
’
s where that ol
’
cat got me.
”
Sage frowned, her own wounds suddenly throbbing anew as she looked at the four long scars on Mary
’
s upper arm.
“
They healed up just fine.
See?
”
S
age nodded but was speechless—
horrified at the sight of the thick, purple scars.
She
knew the injuries on her back—
the scars they would undoubtedly leave
—
would be at least as brutal and unsightly as Mary
’
s were.

“Course, my
mama didn
’
t stitch mine nearly as neat as Reb stitched yers,
”
Mary stammered, becoming suddenly aware of what Sage must be thinking.
“
I swear yers already look better than mine do.
”

“
Mary?
”
Sage whispered then.
“You
know I haven
’
t had
the gumption to…to look at my
back yet.
”

Mary smiled and uncharacteristically cupped Sage
’
s cheek with an affectionate hand as she said,
“
Them wounds
’
ll heal just fine, Sage.
”

“Are
you certain?
”
Sage asked.

“
Positively certain,
”
Mary said with an affirming nod.

“And
what about Reb
’
s?
”
Sage asked.

“
Reb
’
s a man!
”
Mary exclaimed, raising her eyebrows in a gesture of superior knowledge.
“
Men
’
re s
’
posed to be a bit banged up.
Makes
’
em more…more manly.
”

In truth, Sage was just as worried about Reb
’
s emotional scars as she was about his physical ones.
The widows and even Charlie had told her very little about his frame of mind
—j
ust that he blamed himself for the attack.
Sage realized she knew the man she had fallen in love with well enough to know it would permanently damage him.
She thought of the w
oman who had scarred his heart—
of Ivy Dalton and the mark she had left on Rebel Mitchell.
Heartbreak and anger were the brands she
’
d left of his soul.
Sage did not even want to imagine what kind of mark regret and guilt would leave.

“
I
’
m worried for him,
”
Sage stammered.

“
Well, we
’
ll just get him out here to see ya as soon as we can.
Might be easier to take you to him though.
He
’
s had a rougher time of it than you.
Either way, once he sees you
’
re just fine
,
he can quit frettin
’
over it.
”
Mary put her arm back in her dress sleeve.
“
He
’
s over the fever now.
Maybe we can haul ya out there tomorrow.
”



However, as Sage lay in bed that night, gazing out her open window to the summer stars, the feeling of foreboding returned.
Was there something the widows weren
’
t telling her?
She was badly hurt, yes, b
ut fit enough to travel.
Why hadn
’
t they taken her to see Reb?
Why had they ke
pt telling her to wait, wait until his fever was over,
wait until he was better mend
ed? It seemed too intentional, as if everyone were
trying to keep her from finding out something.
Was he wounded far worse than they told her?
Or had he been so angry ov
er the attack—
ov
er being wounded because of her—that
he
’
d decided her friendship and her kisses weren
’t worth the trouble?

Chapter Ten

“
He doesn
’
t want to see me, Ruthie,
”
Sage said.
She tugged at a small weed invading Ruthie
’
s space of serenity.
“
Oh, they won
’
t tell me that…Eugenia, Livie,
Rosie
.
Even Mary won
’
t tell me that, but I know it
’
s true.
I was
foolish to even imagine he could ever…
”
Sage let her words trail off into silence once more.

Fighting the tears in her eyes begging for release, Sage reached out and caressed the soft petals of one of the beautiful red roses growing on Ruthie
’
s tombstone.
The velvet of the petal usually served to soothe Sage, but this day it did nothing to cheer her.

“
At least your roses are bloomin
’
beautiful this year,
”
she said.
“
But a little more rain would help.
”
She closed her eyes
,
trying to dispel the vision of Reb lingering in her mind.
“
A little rain would be a blessed thing just now.
”

Sage held her breath—swallowed hard—
choked back her tears.
She wouldn
’
t cry. Not on such a sunny day.
She wouldn
’
t cry even for the pain and doubt in her heart.

Reb did not want to see her.
No matter what the widows said, she kne
w it was true. Reb was strong. M
ountain
lion having torn him up or not,
he was
too strong,
too determined to stay away if he
’d really wanted to see her—
if he really cared for her.

At first
,
she
’
d been willing to ride out to see him just as Mary had suggested.
But when the widows had exchanged glances of uncertainty when Sage mentioned it, she knew something was wrong.
To
her it was inappropriate anyway—
chasing after him like a saloon tramp.
Still, she would
’ve done it—
if she
’
d had the courage.
Yet doubt was
as
thick as
potato
soup in her now.

Her mind concocted a million different reasons for the chang
e
she sensed in Reb where she was concerned.
Perhaps he
’
d realized he didn
’
t want to lead Sage into believing he cared for her.
Or, worse, perhaps his nearly getting killed by a mountain lion had turned his heart back toward the woman he had loved once before.
Perhaps he was reconsidering staying on at Eugenia
’s ranch—
considering returning to that Ivy Dalton.

“
He can
’
t leave, Ruthie,
”
Sage said out loud at the thought.
“
He bet Eugenia
,
and he lost.
He promised to stay as long as she wants him to.
”
Sage breathed a heavy si
gh, however. She knew nothing—
nobody could hold Reb Mitchell if he didn
’
t want to be held.
Raising her face to the sky, she closed her eyes, wishing
once more for a few dark clouds—
the hope of release.

Looking about her
,
she saw three black cows
leisurely
making their way toward the little fenced area.
They were slow, carefree
-
looking creatures, with Reb
’
s brand on their hindquarters.
Sage envied them a moment—envied their careless meandering.

She looked back to Ruthie
’
s tombstone and sighed once more.

“
Oh, Ruthie…as odd as it sounds, sometimes I feel as if…as if you
’
re my only true friend.
I can talk to you
,
and you al
ways have time to listen to me…
to hear my silly ramblin
’
s and worries.
”
Sage frowned.
“
I wonder so often what you looked like.
Was your hair light or dark?
What dress did your mama put you in to lay you to rest?
Did you have a favorite doll?
Is it with you now?
”

Covering her mouth quickly with one hand, Sage held her breath to stop her tears.
“
I love him, Ruthie.
I love him so much!
”
she whispered.
“
Why can
’
t he love me?
I don
’
t even care that no other man ever has!
I just want Reb to love me!
”

For the first time in nearly nine years, Sage cried without waiting for the rain.
Suddenl
y, the aching in her heart—her desperate need to see Reb, to be held by him,
to
have him smile at her—
was overwhelming.
She collapsed in a heap of h
arsh sobbing and endless tears,
careless of the flowers and sage
growing over the little grave—
careless of the three cows who stood watching her, jaws shifting from side to side as they chewed mouthfuls of sweet pasture grass. For the first time in nearly nine years, Sage could
not keep the pain in her heart—the aching in her soul—
silent and hidden.
She wanted to cry out for Reb—scream his name—
run all the way to the Smarthing ranch and beg him to love he
r. Instead, she simply sobbed—
her tears of heartbreak moistening little
Ruthie
States
’s
soil blanket.



“
This is pure nonsense, Reb,
”
Eugenia scolded as she angrily folded a blanket and set it on the foot of the bed.
“
This…none of it was your fault.
It wasn
’
t Sage
’
s fault either.
”

“
Of course it wasn
’
t her fault,
”
Reb grumbled.

“
Then you saddle up and ride back to the boardin
’
house with me to see her,
”
Eugenia demanded.
“
You
’
re gonna break that girl
’
s heart, Reb…if you haven
’
t already.
”

“
I ain
’
t gonna break her heart,
”
Reb said.
“
She
’
s probably glad to be rid of me.
What kind of a man would let her get tore up like that?
”
Eugenia sighed and shook her head as Reb rubbed at his temples with one hand.
“
I shoulda hunted that cat down, Aunt Eugenia,
”
he said.
“
I swear…I think my heart
’
bout stopped when I seen it take her down. I see it every time I close my eyes…see that cat at her…see her bleedin
’
all over the kitchen floor.
”

Eugenia frowned, her own heart aching for Reb
’
s pain.
She did not miss the way his hands had begun to tremble as he spoke of the cat attacking Sage.
She knew he hadn
’
t feared a moment
for his own well-being or life—
but the sight of the cat nearly killing Sage had shaken him up something awful.
Somehow he
’
d convinced himself it was his fault.
He
’
d convinced himself Sage wouldn
’
t want to have anything to do with a man who
w
ould
’
ve allowed such a thing to happen to her.

“I
put her in terrible danger just because I couldn
’
t keep my wits about me,
”
he continued.
“
You seen her that day, Auntie!
She was so beautiful, so free somehow,
”
he said.
“
It
’
s a wonder I made it all the way back here without throwin
’
her down in the grass and
—”

“
She was happier than I
’
ve ever seen her since I
’
ve known her, Reb,
”
Eugenia interrupted.
“And
it
’
s because she
’
s in love with you.
”
There!
She
’
d said it. Come hellfire or angels, she
’
d said it!

But Reb shook his head—
held up a hand in gesture she shouldn
’
t say it again.

“
Now you know as well as I do, Aunt Eugenia…I ain
’
t got nothin
’
to give a woman in that regard,
”
he said.

“
Oh, horse manure and goose drizzle!
”
Eugenia exclaimed.
“
If you aren
’
t the dumbest post
i
n the fence, Rebel Lee Mitchell, then I don
’
t know who is
.”
Reb straightened up, looked at Eugenia with an astonished e
xpression. And well he should—
for she was sick and tired of his whining.
“
Not once, Reb,
”
she began,
“n
ot once did I ever see you look at Ivy Dalton t
he way you look at Sage Willows.
Not once!
So don
’
t tell me you don
’t love her, Reb.
Don
’
t try to tell me you don
’
t!
”

“
I never said I didn
’t!”
Reb
growled
.
“
I said I ain
’
t got nothin
’
to give her.
I never said I didn
’
t want her.
But I
’m damaged, Aunt Eugenia.
I don
’
t trust myself to be able to hold onto her heart.
I don
’
t
trust myself to hold her at all.
And she sure as hell shouldn
’
t trust me!
That cat nearly
killed her, and it was my fault.
Do ya really think she
’
s gonna want me now?
Do ya think she
’
s gonna trust me after that?
If I can
’
t even keep her safe from harm, what makes ya think she
’
s gonna trust me in any other regard?
And if ya can
’
t trust a person…ya can
’
t love
’
em.
Believe me…if I know anythin
’
, I know that.
”

“
That
’
s nonsense, Reb!
”
Eugenia told him.
“
That mess with Ivy Dalton was a completely different bowl of beans, boy!
And you know it!
You trusted Ivy with your heart
,
and she stomped on it.
She broke y
our trust, sure enough, she did.
But I think it was your pride and your trust in yourself that got most damaged, Reb.
Oh, your heart recovered all right.
But your faith in yourself didn
’
t
,
and you
’
r
e afraid…
afraid Sage will love you
for only the reasons Ivy did—
because you
’re good to look at,
handsome
,
and all the other girls want you.
But you know darn well, that isn
’
t Sage.
And Sage would no more hold you responsible for what happened with that cat than you would her!
”
Eugenia shook her head, wagging a scolding index finger at Reb and adding,
“
This is pure nonsense you
’
ve talked into your own head, Reb.
I was willin
’
to give you some time, due to that awful fever you took to and your wounds bein
’
so bad.
But you
’
ve had your time and now…
so
you get on your horse and you ride out to the boardin
’
house to see Sage.
Don
’
t you dare leave her to wonder what you
’
re thinkin
’
.
Don
’
t you dare leave her talkin
’
to that poor little dead girl out in the pasture and cryin
’
her eyes out over you.
”