The Lone Texan Page 6

  He moved farther into the moonless night, thinking of the woman who'd just died. She hadn't said a word about her own life; she'd worried about her boys.

  Swearing softly, he realized she had a right to worry. If they had no kin, the boys would be on the streets before her body was in the ground. Only, he'd asked what he could do to help, and with her last breath she'd told him. He had to keep them safe, and doing so would probably get him killed.

  Drum smiled. For as long as he could remember, he'd been making a list of what would kill him. At first it had been all the animals and half humans in camp. Once he'd started to roam, Apache in the area made several additions to the list when he kept stealing their game. Then, of course, there were the McMurray men, Sage's big brothers. Teagen, the oldest, swore once that Drum was worse than any of the plagues of Israel. Tobin, the youngest brother, had given him the meanest McMurray horse on their ranch in payment for a favor. He'd been so sure Drum would kill himself on the horse that he'd slipped a double eagle inside the saddlebag to help pay for Drum's funeral.

  And Travis, the middle brother… Drum drew in a deep breath. Travis had found him a job. Correction: the most dangerous job in Texas. Drum had made that death wish by showing off one night to Travis and his Ranger buddies. He not only was fast with a gun and accurate but, thanks to good night vision, he was as good in almost total blackness as he was in daylight.

  He outshot them all that night, and now they paid him well for doing what none of them dared.

  Lighting a thin cigar, he leaned against the railing and got back to the problem at hand. How was he going to keep the Smith boys safe, when he could barely manage to keep himself alive most of the time? He knew nothing about taking care of kids. The only role models he'd ever had on how to be a man were the McMurray brothers, and they occasionally took turns arguing over which one of them got to shoot him.

  Even in the darkness, with his head full of worry, he sensed Sage was near before he heard her footsteps behind him. He waited without turning around until she halted next to him.

  For a moment she didn't speak, she just stood beside him. then she asked. "What did Meg need so desperately to tell you?"

  "That her boys are in danger. Great danger. She wanted me to get them somewhere safe."

  "Relatives?"

  "I asked. Both boys said they had none. They'd only been out here for a year, and before that, they were in Virginia for a while. Will said they kept to themselves. The boys couldn't name their nearest neighbor."

  Sage brushed his side as she folded her arms. "Do you think there is someone trying to kill them?"

  "Yes," he said, wishing he didn't. If he could convince himself they were in no real danger, maybe he could find someone to take them in and walk away. But Drum made a point of never lying to himself.

  She twisted and leaned against the railing. "I hate losing someone. Sometimes I feel like I'm playing a game, doing the best I can, and I still can't win. The angel of death seems to hold an extra ace”

  Drum knew she was talking more to herself than to him. He tossed his cigar and put his arm around her shoulder. "You did the best you could” She felt so right, close like this. He had to fight the urge to crush her to hint

  When she didn't comment, he tugged her away from the railing and kissed the top of her head. She had no idea how long he'd waited for her to come back. She'd probably laugh if he told her about how he dreamed of going up to Boston and seeing her. Sage was the one dream he let himself believe in.

  Without giving it much thought, he leaned down and kissed her gently, a soft hello kiss with a promise.

  For a moment she didn't react. When she did, she pushed hard. "What do you think you are doing?"

  "Kissing you." He frowned. "We've done it before. I thought you'd recognize it. It happens when two people touch lips."

  She stomped halfway across the porch, then turned back to him. "There for a minute I forgot how infuriating you can be. It's been almost four years since I've seen you, Drummond Roak, and, if you ask me, that's not half long enough. I'm a widow in mourning. I'm older than you. I'm…" He was making her crazy. She couldn't even think, but she knew the list was long. "Men don't just go around kissing women when they feel like it."

  "Sage, we need to talk about this…" He had no intention of stopping, so to his way of thinking, she might as well settle into the idea.

  "No. We need to talk about the boys, and that's all. This” She waved her hand at the space between them. "This, you and me that you seem to think exists has never been more than a boyish infatuation on your part”

  "I'm not a boy.” He was getting real tired of having to remind her. He'd been a man since she left. "I'm man enough to be your man," he said in a low tone.

  "No," she answered. "Never, Drum”

  He watched her walk back into the hotel without another word. He told himself the gun on his hip had more to do with why she didn't want him than his age, but he couldn't be sure. The night he'd first seen her, she'd been crying because her first love, a young Ranger, had been killed. She'd sworn then that she'd never marry a man who lived with a gun within arm's length of him. She'd fallen for a preacher who proved to be an idiot before she married him, and she'd evidently fallen for a doctor who'd died on her right after the wedding.

  Drum figured she'd been unlucky in love enough to be marked as trouble by most, but that didn't matter to hint in his mind, she was already his woman.

  If I had a heart, he thought that woman would not only break it, she'd stomp on it and set it on fire. There must be something, wrong with me, Drum decided as he followed her inside. Shooting his toes off one at a time couldn't be any less painful than trying to court Sage McMurray.

  CHAPTER 8

  DRUM MADE IT THREE STEPS INTO HER SITTING ROOM before Sage demanded, "What do you think you're doing here?"

  He didn't back down. "I'm doing what I swore I'd do. I'm making sure the boys are safe.” He almost added that he liked the way her gown clung to her, but he knew she wouldn't appreciate his compliment.

  Bonnie walked out of the washroom with her hair in rag knots. Without her glasses, she had to squint to see him. "Evening, Mr. Roak. I left you an extra blanket in case it gets cold on the settee."

  "Thank you kindly, but I think I'll try the floor.” Drum smiled at the nurse. If possible, she was even plainer without her glasses than with them. "Sleeping on that thing is like trying to sleep in a four-foot canoe.”

  Bonnie giggled.

  Sage looked at her friend as if she'd lost her mind. She'd never heard Bonnie giggle, not once in two years. ''Good night," she managed as she turned back into her room. Let the man sleep out in the sitting room if he wanted to. She'd be sharing her bed with Bonnie so the boys could have the other room.

  The nurse followed her in and closed the door. "I feel so much safer knowing Mr. Roak is just outside.”

  "He's not outside” Sage corrected. "He's inside, and if you think that is safer, remind me to introduce you to a few wild animals."

  Bonnie didn't get Sage's point. "Why?"

  "Because that's what he is: a wild animal. He may look like a man, but trust me, there's the blood of a wolf in him.”

  Bonnie laughed. "I don't think we have to worry about Mr. Roak biting anyone.”

  Sage crawled into bed and muttered, "I wouldn't be too sure."

  She wanted to ask Bonnie why she kept calling him Mr. Roak, but she was too tired to think. All she wanted to do was sleep.

  For several minutes the sounds beyond her door kept her awake. Drum moved around and made no attempt to walk softly. Probably just to irritate her, she thought. She heard him look in on the boys and cross to the door, double-checking the lock. Then she guessed he moved to the window, because she thought she heard the rattle of shutters.

  All was quiet for a while. Bonnie's slow breathing from the other side of the bed had almost lulled Sage to sleep when she thought she saw a shadow walk the ledge outside her open window.
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br />   She didn't move. They were on the third floor. No one would dare step outside or try to stand on the ledge.

  Then she smelled the faint odor of a cigar.

  The lean shadow crossed again, then sat on the windowsill, half in and half out of her world. He propped his foot against one side of the frame and leaned his head back against the other. The tiny glow of his cigar moved across the midnight.

  She watched him through her lashes and wondered who Drummond Roak was truly guarding, her or the boys. He slept so little she couldn't help but wonder if he trusted the night or if he were constantly on guard against the unknown hidden in the shadows.

  The thought crossed her mind that this wasn't the first time he'd watched her sleep. That was impossible, of course. She'd been away, and before that, she lived in a busy house full of people on a ranch that was a fortress.

  Yet she couldn't shake the feeling. If she hadn't been so tired, she would have crawled out of her warm bed and given him a piece of her mind. In fact, while she was at it, she'd tell him to stop smoking those cigars. But telling Drummond off would have to wait for another time. She needed rest.

  Closing her eyes, she relaxed and drifted into sleep, knowing that he was there and despite what she'd said to Bonnie, believing that she was safe.

  Once, turning in her sleep, she opened her eyes and saw that the windowsill was empty. Tiny little plops of rain tapped on the wood where Drum had sat. The damp air had also washed away the hint of cigar smoke. She wondered if she'd only dreamed that he'd been at her window.

  For the first time in months, she slept the rest of the night through without waking. There'd been no rounds to make, no husband to check in on, just the peace of a gentle rain.

  The sun was bright when she shook sleep from her head. Sage brushed her hair out of her eyes, pulled on her robe, and poked her head out the bedroom door. Bonnie was the only one there, fully dressed and looking like she'd been up for some time.

  "Morning," Sage said, feeling a little foolish.

  "Morning." Bonnie looked up from her mending. "Mr. Roak took the boys and that dumb dog out for breakfast. He told me not to wake you, but the man is having coffee brought up every fifteen minutes so it'll be hot when you do get up." She looked miserable. "So far I've managed to drink most of it. No sense it going to waste”

  Sage shook her head slightly, hoping the pieces would fall into place. Since when did Drum have any say over her sleeping habits… or her dog?

  Bonnie stood and put the mending she'd been working on in her trunk. "He asked me if we'd be ready to leave by tomorrow. He's decided to take the boys to Whispering Mountain, so hell be riding along with us”

  "When was he planning to ask me?"

  Sage answered the door and thanked the maid for the coffee. When she turned back to Bonnie, she continued, "You can tell him-"

  Bonnie rushed past the maid. "You'll have to tell him yourself. I need to be out back for a while.”

  She was gone before Sage could argue.

  After pacing around the room for several minutes, Sage decided leaving tomorrow would rush her, but she could make it. Drum was right about getting the boys to safety; even if she wasn't sure she believed that someone was plotting to kill them. The hotel clerk had promised to make the arrangements for Meg's graveside service. Sage had asked that he buy two plots so that her husband's body could lie next to her. The Rangers were sending men out with a map the oldest boy had drawn. Will had wanted to go with them, but all agreed it would be safer if he disappeared with Roak as soon as possible.

  Sage began her list. The funeral, supplies for five for the trip, clothes for the boys.

  She tapped the pencil several times against the paper before adding, "Say good-bye to Barret's brother” She really didn't care if she ever saw the man again, but she supposed it was the right thing to do.

  Bonnie came back into the room, her cheeks flushed from climbing two flights of stairs.

  "Will you go with me to see Shelley Lander?" Sage asked her.

  "One of the bell men told me he runs a gaming house down on the docks. How about we just send him a letter?"

  Sage shook her head. "No, he's Barret's only living relative. I owe him a visit”

  "We could invite him here."

  "Not if we plan to get packed by dawn tomorrow. Yesterday when he visited, I thought he'd never leave." Sage wanted to add that he'd also had his bar bill put on her account. "We can go after the funeral service."

  "All right, but I got a feeling we haven't seen the last of that man. How about we swear not to tell him where your ranch is?"

  "Sounds like a good idea.” Sage twisted her hair from the braid and began combing it out with her fingers.

  It had been years since she'd worn her straight hair down, but somehow the action made her feel a bit like the girl she'd been growing up. Now that Drum had set a time to leave, she found herself in a hurry to see Whispering Mountain again. Her parents, Andrew and Autumn, had married at eighteen and settled the slice of land between two rivers with a cluster of hills guarding their back. Teagen told her once that their Irish father and Apache mother had been happy and safe on the land until Andrew left to fight for Texas independence. He'd died at Goliad, and she'd followed him a few months later, after giving birth. Sage never knew them, but when she was home, she swore she could feel their love around her.

  "Doc?" Bonnie broke into her thoughts. "Do you think we'll be safe on the road between here and there?"

  "Yes," Sage answered as she added rifles to her list of needed supplies.

  A herd of footsteps pounded up the steps. Sage wasn't surprised when Drum opened the door and entered without knocking.

  “Morning." He smiled as he lowered saddlebags by the door.

  Sage's smile was for the boys. "I understand we're leaving tomorrow at first light." She faced the oldest, Will. "Is that all right with you?"

  Andy played with the dog but, at seven, Will was old enough to be consulted. "Do you need to go back to the farm to get anything?"

  Will shook his head. "We got the Bible. That's all we need. Mr. Roak explained to us about our mother dying. He said she was real sorry to leave us, but she's with our father now, so Andy and I will have to take care of each other."

  Andy looked up from petting the dog. "Mr. Roak said he knows a place where we'll be safe from those bad men. We voted at breakfast and decided we would go with him."

  Sage faced Roak. "You seemed to have set all the plans.”

  "Not quite," he answered. "I figured we could head toward Whispering Mountain as soon as possible. If we get out before dawn tomorrow, no one will see the boys leave with you. On the road we can talk about where they can stay. I thought Mrs. Dickerson, in town, might take them in for a while if Teagen's not at the ranch. Since she was widowed again last year, she could probably use the help, and there seems no better home than with a schoolteacher.”

  Sage realized she had something in common with the old schoolteacher. Mrs. Dickerson was a wise choice. She loved children, and she lived close enough to Sage's brother Teagen to run to him for help if trouble came.

  "First light tomorrow." she agreed as she pulled shipping receipts from her bag and handed them to Roak. "If you'll see that my equipment is loaded, I'll buy supplies for the trip and make sure the boys have what they need.”

  He raised an eyebrow. "How much equipment?"

  "A wagonload. Teagen probably left a wagon and two teams of horses at the livery. I told him I'd like a buggy if possible for Bonnie and the luggage. She's never traveled by wagon across open country."

  Roak frowned. "Sounds like a caravan. I’ll hire a few drivers."

  "I can drive our wagon." Will straightened, obviously not missing a word.

  Roak nodded. "Good. We can load most of the supplies for the trip on your wagon.” He smiled at the boy. "You'll be a big help on this trip. I can use another man along the trail.”

  Sage started to the bedroom to dress, but Roak's words st
opped her. "I'll meet you back here at sundown. Be ready."

  She whirled. "Maybe we should get something straight, Drummond. You are not in charge of me or responsible for any of my belongings. I agree we should work together to leave as soon as possible and travel together for safety, but no one elected you the trail boss."

  He nodded once. "Fair enough.” All the anger left his tone when he added in a low voice, "I'm surprised even one man got his rope around you, Sage."

  She resented the comment. "Once and never again."

  CHAPTER 9

  SAGE AND BONNIE WALKED WITH THE BOYS TO THEIR mother's grave for a prayer. They knew of no minister, but Bonnie had managed to find a few wildflowers for the boys to carry. The young Ranger, Daniel Torry, met them at the opening to the cemetery. He tied his horse at the gate and pulled a Bible out of his saddlebag.

  "I know the words to read” Daniel whispered when they started across to the newly dug grave. "When I was half grown, I thought my calling would be to preach. I'm as much of a preacher as any of the others you'll find around here”

  "That would be nice." Sage said, thinking that she'd heard them enough lately to know them by heart. The boys walked ahead with Bonnie toward the open grave. Daniel and Sage followed.

  She thought of asking if Drummond was coming, but she knew the answer.

  Daniel seemed to read her mind. "Roak can't make it. He's tied up at the docks. He-"

  Sage saved Daniel from further lying. "He doesn't do funerals”

  Daniel nodded. "That's about it. A lot of the men are that way. I guess they feel close enough to the grave in everyday living. They don't want to stand over one."

  "And you?" she asked.

  Daniel grinned. "I'm the son of a preacher, miss. A funeral or wedding didn't much matter to us kids. It meant we'd eat good that night” He straightened and stepped into place, looking every bit the preacher, except for the gun strapped to his hip.