The Touch of Sage (8 page)

“
Oh!
”
Sage exclaimed.
His question was quite unexpected.
“
I don
’
t see why not.
”

“
I think I
’
d want to put up another fence
’
round little Ruth here, though,
”
he said.
“
Wouldn
’
t want to risk the cattle chewin
’
up yer pretty flowers and gravy fixin
’
s.
”

Sage smiled, again delighted by his charm.
It was impossible to keep her heart from fluttering madly in his presence!

“
I
’
d certainly appreciate you doin
’
that for her,
”
Sage said.

“
It
’
s a nice piece of land ya got here, Miss Willows,
”
he said, looking around as they walked.
“
Nice and peaceful.
”

“
Yes,
”
was all she could think to say.

Far too soon, or rather not soon enough, they had reached the creek.
Drifter stood sheltering near a piñon tree. Sage smiled as she noticed Reb
’
s black gelding near another.

Again, Sage
’
s heart twittered as Reb took hold of Drifter
’
s reins and walked him over to her.
He reached out, holding the stirrup steady to assist her in mounting.
Smiling at him, she settled into the saddle.

“
Thank you,
”
she said.

Reb nodded, touched the brim of his hat
,
and said,
“
Yer welcome.
”
As he walked to his own horse and mounted effortlessly, he said,
“
Aunt Eugenia invited me to supper tonight.
Is that all right with you?
”

In actuality, it wasn
’
t all right.
Sage wasn
’
t sure she could endure any more wonderful minutes in his presence.
Still, she nodded and said,
“
Supper
’
s at five thirty…roasted chicken and potatoes.
”

He smiled and rode his horse over next to hers.
“
Any chance of there bein
’
some chicken gravy with just a touch of
sage
in it too?
”
He chuckled.
Taking the sage leaf from his shirt pocket, he waved it under his nose.

A sincere smile spread across Sage
’
s face.
The feel of it surprised her.
“
I
’
m sure sage gravy can be arranged, Mr. Mitchell.
”

“
Reb,
”
he corrected, holding the sage leaf out to her.
She smiled.
Taking the leaf from him
,
she hoped he didn
’
t notice the way her hand trembled as her fingers brushed his.

Pinching the leaf with her fingers, Sage inhaled its familiar fragrance and said,
“
Very well…supper will be at five thirty, Reb.
”

He smiled at her, smoothed his mustache with one index finger, touched the brim of his hat
,
and said,
“
Five thirty it is, Sage Willows.
”
Clicking his tongue he said,
“
Let
’
s go, Ned.
”

Sage smiled.
She couldn
’
t keep from smiling!
A
ll the way back to the boarding house
she smiled.
What a handsome measure of a man Reb Mitchell was!
Polite and kind
too.
H
e was tougher than nails and a hard worker.
The very stuff of any woman
’
s dreams
,
and Sage could not help dreaming of him.
She would make him some sage gravy, all right.
Cornbread stuffing too
—
the like he had never tasted!

Reb pulled Ned to a stop just beside
Ruth
States
’s
grave.
How strange it had been to step over the hill and see Sage standing out in the rain, letting the moisture freely fall on her face and body.
In those first moments she had seemed so free, yet wholly sad at the same time.
Reb had watched her for a few moments, waiting until she had knelt before the tiny grave and begun plucking weeds from the soil before he had approached.

It was obvious she was startled to see him there
,
and he hadn
’
t been able to discern whether her face was red from
the rain or from something else—
tears perhaps.
Still, Reb smiled as he thought about he
r. He liked this Sage Willows—
this young woman who had resigned herself to spinsterhood at such a young age.
For one thing, she offered no threat of pursuing him.
Reb Mi
tchell had no time for a woman—
no desire to waste his l
ife romancing some fickle filly
who would end up wanting to own him like
a
stray dog and treating him worse.
It was one reason he chose to spend his social time with hi
s aunt and her friends—
the old ladies weren
’
t about to start dreaming of marriage and babies with him.
Further
more
, though they were sweet little women, they held no attraction, no temptation for him.
They were perfectly delightful and perfectly safe.

Still, Reb could see how their pretty, young
proprietress could be a danger—
if she
had any intentions toward him—
which she did not.
In fact, she seemed rather indifferent to him at
times—
leaving the room when he was visiting with his aunt and the others, never talking much to h
im. Sage had made her own way—
whet
her out of necessity or choice—
and she seemed as resigned to a singular life as he did.

She was dang pretty, though.
He thought of the way her green eyes flashed when she was amused at
Rose
Applewhite
’
s rummy antics.
He wondered how long her hair was
—
how she would look with it down instead of strapped back in such a tight widow
’
s-knot at the back of her head.

Yep
,
Reb thought.
She could be dangerous…if she had a mind to be.
But she didn
’
t.
Reb knew he could show up for supper at Willow
s’
s Boarding House later that night and not be in danger of having to
sidestep
any flirtatious females. Well—
any his own age, that was.

Still, for a moment as he urged Ned toward home, he was a bit bothered by Sage
’
s apparent disinterest in him all the sa
me. Maybe he was getting ugly—
losing his charm.
Yet thinking of the way Rose and Livie lit up
when he paid them any attention—
the way that pestering Milly Michaels smiled
and batted her eyelashes at him—
well, surely not every scar his soul wore showed through on his face.
Did it?



Sage quickly brushed Drifter, set a bucket of oats in his stall
,
and hurried toward the house, pausing at the old rain barrel by the back kitchen door.
The old barrel was filled with dirt abundant with rosemary, thyme
,
and sage plants. Sage pinched a large branch from one of the sage plants.
Folding one of the leaves and rubbing it with her fingers, she drew the herb branch up to her face, caressing her lips with the soft leaves and inhaling their wonderful aroma. Oh, how it reminded her of her mother!
It always had
,
and she wondered if it was why she had always loved the fragrance and flavor of sage so very much.
There was her kinship with the plant to be considered too—being named after it as she was.
Whatever the reason, the sweet scent of sage always cheered her
,
and when it came to cooking with it—well, any woman Reb Mitchell had ever known before had certainly met her match in Sage Willows.

Smiling, Sage entered the house to start supper.
There were a few extra things to do
before Reb arrived. F
or the first time where the man was concerned, Sage wasn
’
t afraid of her happy thoughts.
After all, God had
His reasons for creating dreams—and who was she to deny one of h
eaven
’s greatest gifts?



“
Ya
’
ll catch yer death of pneumonia out in that rain, Sage,
”
Mary grumbled.
“
For Pete
’
s sake…yer hair isn
’
t dry yet!
”

“
Oh, hush, Mary,
”
Livie scolded, shuffling the deck of cards in her hand.
“
I think it very…very eccentric of Sage to slosh about in the rain.
”

“
Eccentric?
”
Mary exclaimed.
“
Runnin
’
through town with a white shirtwaist on, wet to the skin?
It
’
s pneumonia and scandal just a
-
waitin
’
to settle in.
”

Sage smiled and gathered her cards as Livie counted out seven to her.
“
Thank you for caring, Mary,
”
she said.
“
But I
’
m fine.
Summer rain is warm and ref
r
eshin
’
.
”

“
I still can
’
t believe you saw Reb out there, Sage,
”
Rose
said, fanning herself with the cards in her hand, plucking one out
,
and tucking it into a new spot in the arrangement.
“
How romantic!
”

“
Romantic?
”
Mary growled.
“
Stuff and nonsense.
”
Leaning toward Sage, Mary lowered her voice and said,
“
I could see clean through yer shirtwaist when ya come in, Sage.
”
Mary shook her head.
“
I
’
m sure Reb Mitchell saw more
’
n the pasture out there today.
”
Sage blushed, knowing Mary was probably correct, but hoping she was wrong.
             

“
Oh, it
’
s nothin
’
the boy hasn
’
t seen before, I reckon,
”
Eugenia said, rearranging her own hand of cards.

Mary was aghast.
“
What?
Why Eugenia Smarthin
’
!
What kinda thing is that to say?
”
she exclaimed.

“
Reb
’
s plenty old enough to have seen a
saloon girl or two while walkin’
down the street, Mary,
”
Rose
told her.

“
Hmmph,
”
Mary grunted.
“
He
’
s a
-
seein
’
one ever
’
time he comes in here.
”