The Touch of Sage (37 page)

He
’
d been so afraid to face her
,
afraid his weakness would cause her to see what a worthless piece of flesh he was. He
’
d hoped she would forgive him, wrap her lovely arms around his neck, press her soft body to him, kiss him the way she had in the pastures on the way to the ranch that day
,
and whisper forgiveness into his ear.
He
’
d hoped she would understand he had simply not known the c
at was lurking in the old barn—
simply not been prepared even though he should have been.
He
’
d dreamt
of her forgiveness, her smile—
her sweet delicious kiss.
Yet standing before her now, he could see she did not trust him.
S
he did not find him attractive—
could not forgive him for what had happened to her.
Otherwise
,
she surely would not have let Ivy overtake him the way she had.
Perhaps she had already settled on giving her he
art over to someone else—
someone more capable
—s
omeone like Charlie.
The thought wounded him deeply.
What was it about him that ca
used women to feel unsatisfied,
go looking elsewhere for something more?

He glanced at Ivy then.
Ivy?
Why was she there next to him?
How had she arrived?
Why had she come?
Reb studied her stunning eyes, her lovely
,
poisonous smile.
When he
’
d left to ranch for his aunt, Ivy had swor
n she would follow him anywhere,
search for him to the ends of the earth, and never let him go.
It looked as
if she were
capable o
f making good on some promises—
just not the ones
that
mattered most.
He looked at her and felt nothing.
Not even hate or resentment.
Rather, the only emotion he could detect she stirred in him was indifference to her existence.

As he looked at Ivy
,
Reb
felt his heart harden further—
felt colder within than he
’
d ever felt before.
Oh, Ivy Dalton had trodden on him, angered him, hurt his pride
,
and wounded his soul.
There was no doubt of it.
But it was Sage Willows who had crushe
d, abused, and broken his heart—
torn his spirit into shreds and tattered remnants.

He looked back to Sage, still standing
in the doorway looking at him—
not a tear in her beautiful eyes.
She no more wanted him than she did old Forest Simmons.
Yes, it was Sage Willows who had fin
ally ruined Rebel Lee Mitchell—
just as he
’
d feared she would from the moment he
’
d first seen her.

The pain throbbing in his chest almost took his breath away.
Reb wished it would
—
wished he could lose consciousness and be free of the misery stretching out before him.
But he did not lose consciousness.
Sage had spurned him.
She did not want him.
And if Sage Willows did not want him, then he wanted nothing.
Nothing.
Life held nothing for him without her.

“
All right then,
”
Reb said, reaching down and picking up Ivy
’
s carpetbag.

“
Sage!
”
Eugenia whispered, taking hold of Sage
’
s arm.
“
Do somethin
’
!
”

“
I
’
m…I
’
m sorry for the misunderstandin
’
, Miss Dalton,
”
Sage said.

“
It
’
s of no consequence, Miss Willows.
How were you to know Eugenia Smarthing and I had crossed paths before?
”
Ivy said, tightening her hold on Reb
’
s arm.

“
Rebel…don
’
t you dare walk away like this,
”
Eugenia warned.

“
I
’
m just takin
’
Ivy over to the roomin
’
house outside town, Auntie,
”
Reb said.
“
Miss
Rosie
,
”
he said, returning his hat to his head and nodding at
Rose
.
“
Miss Willows,
”
he said then, glaring at Sage.
He turned and left, Ivy clinging to his arm.
They walked across the porch, down the steps
,
and into the road.

Sage watched
him go—paralyzed with pain, heartache,
disbelief
,
and confusion.
She couldn
’t move—
couldn
’t speak—
couldn
’
t cry out to him that she loved him.

“
For cryin
’
in the bucket, Sage!
”
Eugenia exclaimed.
“
Run after him!
What is wrong with you?
”

“
Ask him,
”
Sage breathed as tears filled her eyes.

“
What on earth is goin
’
on?
”
Rose
demanded, stomping a foot like an angry child.

“
Sage!
”
Eugenia exclaimed again.

Sage turned, running through the house and out the back kitchen door.
She didn
’
t go to the barn to saddle Drifter
;
she simply ran—ran toward the clouds gathering in the distance and the loneliness of Ruthie
’
s pasture.

Chapter Eleven

Sage took the biscuits out of the oven.
She opened the cupboard door and removed a jar of strawberry preserves.
Taking the cloth off the top of the jar, she inhaled the sweet scent of sugar and strawberries.
The bacon was nearly finished frying
,
and Mary was already sitting at the table wearing her ratty red nightgown.

“
I suppose Rose and Livie are pr
unin’
and primpin
’
.
Can
’
t they smell the bacon?
”
Mary grumbled.
“
And where in tarnation is Eugenia?
I ain
’
t waitin
’
around all day for them to get down here.
I
’
ll just have my breakfast alone.
”

Sage smiled
. Mary was so cranky at times—
especially before she
’
d had her breakfast.

“
There
’
s a herd comin
’
through town,
”
Eugenia said, entering the kitchen.
“
Must be the new herd Reb
’
s bringin
’
to the ranch.
”

At the mention of Reb
’
s name, Sage held her breath for a moment.
As was the case every time she heard his name spoken, a sickening wave of heartache washed over her.
Still, she tried to appear unaffected
,
and after a moment
,
she
exhaled
the painful breath.

“
Well, let
’
s get a look at
’
em,
”
Mary said.
The old woman rose from her seat at the table and left the
boarding house
by way of the front door.

“
What on earth are you doin
’
, Mary?
”
Sage heard
Rose
exclaim as she descended the stairs.
“
Do you want every man in town to see you in that raggedly ol
’
thing you call a nightgown?
”

Sage held her breath once more as she heard the rumble of the approaching herd.
She could hear the cowboys whis
tle as they drove the cattle—
smell the dust the animals kicked up as they moved closer.
The memory of the day Reb
’
s main herd went
through town poured over her—the
memory of how happy he
’
d been and the kiss he
’
d taken from her in the barn.

Sage winced and held back her tears.
It was too early in the day to run to Ruthie.
She
’
d begun to accept she would have to go on, live some sort of life.
She
’
d begun to try not to cry over Ruthie
’s grave every day. So far
she hadn
’
t been able to go through a day without doing so, but she had to try.

Reb hadn
’
t been to the
boarding house—not even to see his aunt—
since that day more than a week before when he
’
d shown
up to collect Ivy Dalton. E
very moment of every day Sage longed for h
im—
yearned to see h
im. Even if he had chosen Ivy—
even though Sage had not been able to capture his
attention beyond a flirtation—
she loved him and longed for his presence.

Yet she knew she must get used to not seeing him.
She would have to accept he would never again wink at her, flirt with her, hold her in his arms
,
and kiss her.
His smile would never be for her again.
He
’
d never come to dinner and stay for a game of cards, placing ridiculous bets with the widows.

Mr. Getcher had told Sage only the day before that Ivy Dalton was the talk of the town!
Word was she was Rebel Mitchell’s
intended and that they meant to be married before the summer was through.

Reverend Tippetts, however, having been to di
nner that very night,
said he knew of no such information from Reb.
Scarlett
was certain this Ivy Dalton woma
n had made up the entire story—
though it was sure enough true Ivy was acquainted with Reb.
He
’
d been seen with her in his company briefly several times over the past week.

Winnery
said very little on the subject, stating only,
“
That Ivy Dalton…she puts me in m
ind of a cowpoke I knew once…as wicked as the night is long
.
”

“
I
’
d rather have bacon and biscuits tha
n watch a dusty bunch of cows wa
nder down the street,
”
Livie said, entering the kitchen and sitting down at the table.
“
Wouldn
’
t you, Sage?
”

“
I
’
m always in the mind for bacon,
”
Sage said, forcing a friendly smile.

“
There
’
s some good cattle in that herd,
”
Mary said as she entered the kitchen again.

“
Yes,
”
Eugenia agreed
,
sitting at the table across from Livie.
“
They
’
ll grow Reb
’
s herd nicely.
”

“
Well, I for one think it
’
s high time we had some fun around her
e
,
”
Rose said
as she sat
down.
“
Things have been too awful glum of late.
”

“
How about some cards later
?”
Sage suggested
,
again forcing a smile.
“
After lunch.
We can sit down for hours!
”
She turned back toward the stove as four sets of skeptical eyes lingered on her.

So far
,
her friends had been very kind and understanding.
Since the day Ivy had arrived and left the
boarding house
on Reb
’
s arm, not one of them had pressed her.
Not one.
Not even Eugenia.
Sage
was grateful to them for it
.
Her tears were close to spilling over
often
.
One word from any of them would
’
ve caused the dam to break
,
and she wasn
’
t ready for that.
Even though she
’
d begun to cry without the rain to hide her tears, Sage wasn
’
t ready to allow anyone to see her so overcome with weeping.
Only Ruthie.
She didn
’
t mind if Ruthie knew.

“
Cards sound perfect,
”
Rose
said, at last.
“
But let
’
s do wait
’
til after lunch.
I…uh…I have some errands to run.
”

“
Yes.
Yes, let
’
s wait until after lunch,
”
Livie agreed.
“
I have some things
that
need tendin
’
to as well.
”

“
And…and I promised Gareth Getcher I
’
d look over his money books this mornin
’
,
”
Mary added.

“
I thought I might make us some cookies.
If that
’
s all right with you, Sage,
”
Eugenia added.

Sage looked
at
the widows, suspicion thick in her mind.
They seemed guilty somehow, quite guilty, as if they were up to no good.

“
Are you ladies up to somethin
’
?
”
she couldn
’
t help but ask.

“
Whatever would give you that idea, Sage?
”
Rose
asked, fiddling with the broach at her collar.

Sage frowned for a moment then smiled and sighed.
Let them have their secrets
, she thought.
They were probably up to no good at all.
Just like the time they
’
d gotten mad at ol
d
Forest Simmons for proposing to Sage.
They
’
d snuck into his house one day when he was out and sewed the flies and trapdoors shut on all his long underwear.
Sage giggled at the memory.
Still, it had been some time since they
’
d gotten into that much mischief.
Best to let their silliness stay a secret. They enjoyed it more that way.

Sage heard one of the cowboys whistle out in the street.
Her t
houghts immediately went to Reb. She too
wished she could ride out to the ranch with the widows and watch this herd come in.
But those days were behind her.
She was the proprietress of Willows
’s
Boarding House.
That
’
s what she was, and it was a far better life than some women knew.

Still, as she lifted the bacon out of the frying pan with a fork, her mouth began to water.
Not from anticipation of the tasty meat, but from the memory of Reb
’
s kiss the day his first herd had come in.
She swallowed hard, trying in vain to push the memory from her mind.

“
Here you go, ladies,
”
she said, plopping a plate of bacon down in the middle of the kitchen table.
“
Breakfast is served.
”



“
Walk on down to the general store with me, won
’
t ya, Sage?
”
Mary asked.
Sage smiled, noting Mary had changed from her ratty nightgown into a pretty blue dress she usually reserved for church and social gatherings.

“On your way to see Mr.
Getcher, Mary?
”
Sage asked.

“
That man couldn
’
t add two and two if his life depended on it,
”
Mary grumbled.
“
I don
’
t know how he ever roped me into helpin
’
with
his books. I oughta be gettin’
paid for my time and trouble.
”

Sage smiled.
She knew Mr. Getcher rather doted on Mary.
Furthermore, no matter how much Mary moaned and grumbled
,
Sage knew Mary was very fond of Mr. Getcher.
In her own aching heart, Sage hoped Mary
’
s
“
goin
’ over the books”
meetings with Mr. Getcher were secretly romantic rendezvous in disguise.

Mary
’
s legs had been giving her more aches and pains than usual. Sage suspected the walk to the general store would be a little easier for Mary if she had a companion to link arms with.

“
I
’
d be glad to walk down with you, Miss Mary,
”
Sage said.
“
I could use a bit of fresh air myself.
”

It was a lovely day, warm and bright with sunshine.
The slight summer breeze carried with it the comforting aroma of cattle and pasture grass.
Sage sighed as she walked with Mary, pleased by the wildflowers growing along the side of the streets and between the buildings.