The Touch of Sage (34 page)

“
Ain
’
t been no rain,
”
Reb mumbled.
“
She ain
’
t been cryin
’
…especially over me.
”

“
You ride out to the boardin
’
house, Reb,
”
Eugenia told him.
“
Maybe not today.
Maybe not tomorrow.
But you do it.
I think you know Sage is in love with you.
But fear…or somethin
’
else I don
’t know about…
is tryin
’
to convince you otherwise.
Beat it down, Reb.
If not for your own happiness…for hers.
”



Reb watched his Aunt Eugenia ride aw
ay in the buggy. Reaching down, he
scratched Bullet behind the ears, wincing at the pain caused when the dog landed its clumsy paws on the wounds at his thigh.
Reb wondered for a moment
,
had Bullet been at the ranch
house that day instead o
f out with Charlie and the herd,
would the cat have been in the barn?

He turned around and headed back into the house.
As always, his stomach rolled at the
sight
of the dark brownish-red stain on the kitchen floor.
Charlie assured Reb over and over it was Reb
’
s own blood Eugenia hadn
’
t been able to scrub away, that Sage
’s wounds were less severe—
bled less.
But to Reb
’
s eyes, it was Sage
’
s pain he saw e
ach time he looked at the floor—
each time he looked at himself in the mirror.

He closed his eyes and thought of the moment he
’d walked into the boarding house
to see Sage all gussied up in one of Miss
Rose’
s old dancing dresses.
Sage
’
s smile had been mesmerizing!
He
’d never seen her so unguarded—
so happy.
He
’
d been sure then and there he would have her for
his own. One way or the other,
he
had
decided to own her.
He envisioned stopping the wagon in the p
asture on the way to the ranch—
remembered how breathtaking it ha
d felt to hold her in his arms—
sighed at the memory of the way she
’
d succumbed to him and to her own desires.

He winced, remembering the way she
’
d stepped forward, taken his face in her soft hands, kissing him hard on the mouth.
Even now, with Bullet licking his hand, the wounds at his chest and leg
still aching—
even now it was the thrill that had traveled through him when she
’
d kissed him that dominated his senses.

He wanted her in his arms!
He wanted her in his house!
He wanted her in his bed!
He wanted her in his life!

Opening his eyes, Reb turned and beat his fist against the inner wall of the house.
Beat it hard against the sturdy wood planking until his knuckles and fingers ached as badly as his other wounds.

Eugenia was right.
Why was he comparing anything having to do with Sage Willows to anything having to do with Ivy Dalton?
Surely Sage knew he hadn
’
t meant for the cat to attack her that day.
He was a coward not to face her.
Yet som
ething in him whispered to him,
asked him
—
did his fear truly originate with the fact Sage might not trust him?
Or did it initiate from the idea she might lose interest in him the way Ivy had?

Either way, Reb knew to avoid facing her would surely mean the end to any chance he had at winning her heart.
Th
erefore, the question remained—
wou
ld he follow fear and cowardice,
or could he conquer fear, find bravery
,
and perhaps win Sage
? If he did, could he keep her?
Or would she tire of him?
Which was worse, to never try
or to try and risk rejection?
Surely it was worth
whatever pain he might endure—
even to own her for a time.
Wasn
’
t it?



One week passed and then another
,
and still Sage had not seen Reb.
She
’
d tried to give up hope.
Each day as she visited Ruthie, nearly sobbing herself sick, Sage tried to rid herself of any hope he would come to her.
So many times she
’
d saddled Drifter
,
determin
ed to ride out to the ranch—seek him out—
ask him why he had abandoned any interest he may have had in her.
Each time, however,
she ended up talking to Ruthie instead—
fearful of what Reb might answer.

Sage
’
s poor, troubled mind imagined ma
n
y reasons for Reb
’
s avoiding her.
Again she mulled
over
the possible reason
s—
adding new possibilities to the already long list.
The wounds at her back
,
for instance.
Perhaps the scars left by the mountain lion
’
s attack were too gruesome.
Perhaps, she mused, he simply did not want to be reminded of their ugliness.
Still, she knew such shallow considerations were not in him.

And so
,
she reviewed the other reasons alre
ady plaguing her mind. Perhaps
he
’
d simply had a change of heart, found her too weak, too uninterestin
g to pursue any more. Perhaps—and it was her worst fear—
perhaps he really had changed his mind about the infamous Ivy Dalton.
In her most secret places of worry
,
Ivy Dalton
,
and her one-time hold over Reb
’
s heart and mind, was Sage
’
s greatest fear.

Still
,
whether repulsive scars, simple disinterest
,
or a love of the past—whichever the reasons
—
with each pa
ssing day it became more clear:
Reb was not going to return to her.
Her eyes longed to gaze at him
;
her mind longed to hear his voice.
Her body and soul ached to be held in his arms
,
and her mouth watered for want of his kiss.
Yet Sage knew
—she began to admit—
tried to accept she would have to return to life without him.

The life Sage had known before Reb Mitchell str
etched out before her—
tedious, uneventful
,
and dreary.
Oh, certainly she loved the widows.
Certainly the sun shone bright.
But it would never be enough again.
It hadn
’
t been anyway, but it certainly wouldn
’
t be enough now.
Yet she tried to go on.
What else was there to do but go on?

One day, having rubbed down Drifter after a ride to Ruthie
’
s pasture, Sage smiled as she saw Charlie Dugger walking toward her.
Her thoughts were hopeless and grim, yes.
But she saw no reason to pour anxiety over anyone else.
So, as she walked toward the
boarding house
, she smiled as she saw Charlie approaching.
It was Tuesday, after all
,
and the Reverend Tippetts,
Scarlett,
and
Winnery
were coming for supper.
Of course, she knew Reb wouldn
’
t be there, but for a brief
moment—
when she saw Charlie smile
and touch the brim of his hat—
her heart leapt.
Perhaps he would come!
Perhaps Eugenia had somehow convinced Reb to join Charlie and come to supper.

Yet as Charlie approached, Sage felt the now familiar pang of heartache in her bosom.
Reb would not come.
Perhaps never again.
And if he did, it would not be for her sake.
He
’
d always come for his aunt
’
s sake in the first place.
She realized that now.

“
Hey, there, Miss Sage,
”
Charlie greeted.

“
Hello, Charlie,
”
Sage said, forcing a friendly smile, hoping her eyes were no longer red from her sobbing and tears in Ruthie
’
s pasture.

“
Um…I…um…I was wonderin
’
if I might have a word with ya,
”
Charlie said.

“
Of course,
”
Sage said.
The last thing she wanted to do was talk with Reb
’
s best friend.
She always felt as if Charlie were going to tel
l her something final about Reb—
as if he would be the one to confirm Reb had no interest in her.
Yet he was a kind man and her friend as well.
He
’
d visited her often after the mountain lion attack and was always very kind and polite.

Charlie inhaled a deep breath.
Taking Sage by the hand he led her to the side of the
boarding house
.

“You
have to come out to the ranch, Miss Sage,
”
Charlie blurted.
“
Ya just have to come out there and straighten Reb out.
”

For a moment, as always, Sage thought,
Yes!
I
’
ll go!
I
’
ll go to him!
But she shook her head.

“
Charlie,
”
she began,
“
Please.
If he doesn
’
t want me…I mean…if he doesn
’
t want to see me, then I can
’
t
—”

“
But he does, Miss Sage!
”
Charlie exclaimed.
“
He does!
He
’
s just…he
’
s just feelin
’
like he failed ya.
He
’
s blamin
’
himself for the big cat, you gettin
’
hurt like ya did.
He can
’
t get past it, Miss Sage.
”

Sage l
eaned back against the boarding house
wall.
She shook her head and held onto her tears.
Oh, how she wished it were that simple.
How she wished all she had to do was convince Reb the cat
’
s attack wasn
’
t his fault.
Maybe there was hope in that,
if that was all it was.
But Sage knew there was more.
She felt it.

“
He didn
’
t fail me, Charlie,
”
she whispered.
“
You know he didn
’
t.
He
’
s just…he
’
s just a kind man…who…who flirted with me a little.
He
’
s just been thinkin
’
better of spendin
’
so much time with me and
—”

“
Miss Sage,
”
Charlie repeated, taking both her hands in his as he pleaded with her.
“
Surely ya know him better than that.
He blamin
’
himself so hard for what happened to ya, for the damage that cat done ya.
That
’
s all.
That
’
s all it is.
It ain
’
t nothin
’
else.
”