The Lone Texan

CHAPTER 25

SAGE TRIED TO IGNORE DRUM AND KEEP SLEEPING but when he said they had to get back to Will and little Andy, everything, including the danger they were in, registered.

"Where are the boys?" she asked as she sat up and pushed back loose strands of hair. She'd spent the last week so worried about herself, she hadn't thought of the boys. She assumed Bonnie would look after them.

"They're safe with the Rangers.”

"Bonnie? Isn't she with them?" It seemed like a lifetime ago that she'd called for the nurse's help in Shelley's office, and Bonnie hadn't answered. Drum hesitated too long. She knew something was wrong. "What has happened to Bonnie?"

He didn't try to sugarcoat the news. "She's missing.” He hurried to add, "She wasn't among the body count, but someone said he thought he saw a man dragging her out of Shelley's place and dropping off the dock into the shallow water below."

"Did anyone go after her?"

"There were no tracks to follow. We don't even know who could have taken her. Six men rowed in. Six men and you rowed away. Whoever took Bonnie wasn't one of them, so maybe he was saving her. She's probably fine back at the hotel by now and wondering where you are."

Sage collected her things. "I hope so. She's not like me. She was raised in a city by parents who never allowed her to do anything. She puts on a good act, but this whole country frightens her.”

"Maybe she ran off with a fellow. Maybe some man looked at her and saw six feet of love at first sight."

"No, not Bonnie. Even if someone did fancy her, she'd never go along. She'll never marry. She believes her mission as a nurse is as great a calling as a nun's to the church.”

Drum handed Sage the reins to her bay. "Well, if she jumped off that dock with a man, you might want to reconsider your measure of her.”

"No. Trust me, Bonnie would die of fright before she'd ever let a man touch her hand.”

He offered Sage a step up into the saddle, then brushed her leg as he made sure her boot was solid in the stirrup. "How about you? You ever going to let another man touch you?"

"No," she answered. "And do me a favor; don't ask me again."

They didn't speak for an hour. She followed close behind him as he picked a path through the rocks, heading northeast. Since Skull Alley was to the south, she guessed most of the men chasing them would be searching in that direction. The few who came north, if any did, had the rain to slow them down. There was also a good chance none of them knew about the passage. Only a boy climbing around on rocks would have found it.

Drum pulled up and climbed off his mount. When he reached her, he whispered, "We'll have to walk for a while. The ground slopes off in a long slide from here on. If we make it down, we're home free, but it's too dangerous to risk riding”

She understood. A horse tumbling with a rider could very easily crush the rider in a fall.

They led the mounts. The slope was steep, but the rain had softened the earth. Sage dug her heels in with each step, knowing that if she tumbled, it would be more than a hundred feet before she stopped.

The moon seemed to follow them down the incline. She kept her distance from Drum. If she fell, she didn't want to take him with her. Halfway down, they both froze at the sound of a coyote howling in the distance. The black, sleeping earth spread for miles before her. She felt so alone and couldn't help wondering if the coyote felt the same. She'd never been afraid of the dark, but being alone was another matter. Her vision of hell wasn't fire and brimstone but isolation.

Drum started down once more, leading Satan. As they neared the bottom, shadows crossed one another over uneven ground, making it impossible to see the solid footing clearly. The coyote howled again, causing both horses to grow uneasy and jerk against the reins.

Drum fought to control Satan with his one good arm while holding the injured one against his side. About the time he gained control of the huge beast, Drum's foot slid on a loose rock, and he tumbled. Satan pulled free and whirled, almost hitting Sage.

She grabbed the flying reins and spoke to the horse in a language she'd learned as a child, calming nonsense words that settled Satan. With both horses in tow, she carefully continued down.

"Drum?" She moved into the blackness of a ravine. "Drum, where are you?"

Satan pulled at his reins, determined to move to the left. When Sage followed, she found Drummond. Dried brush had stopped his roll a few feet from a shallow creek bed. She tied the horses to the brush and felt along his body, trying to see if he'd broken any bones.

Warm blood dripped from a cut on his forehead, and he moaned when she touched the bandaged wound on his arm. Other than that, he seemed alive and intact.

"Come on, Drum," she whispered. "Get up”

He didn't cooperate.

"Come on." She pulled on him. "We made it out of the canyons. We're almost to safety. Come on! We can't be here come dawn, or they'll be able to pick us off.”

He moaned and tried to stand.

Sage slid her arm around him and walked him to Satan. He was heavier than she thought he'd be. The horse was well trained and didn't shy as she helped Drum up.

"Can you stay in the saddle?"

He nodded.

"Then we ride”

Sage headed north, having no idea where she was going. The land leveled out, and Drum managed to stay in the saddle, but he leaned forward as if fighting to stay conscious. She pushed as hard as she dared in the darkness, and by first light they were into a wooded area. Sage turned southeast and began following a stream, hoping it would lead her toward Galveston.

Drum hadn't said a word. When it was light enough to see his face, she wasn't surprised to find the head wound still bleeding. He'd nodded that he was fine every time she'd offered to look at the wound. Now, from his eyes, she could tell that he'd lied. Even before the fall he must have been in trouble. He hadn't allowed her to doctor him. Getting her away was far more important.

She found a cove well covered on three sides. The one side that faced the water was open, but unless someone rode in the stream, they wouldn't spot them camped. The morning was cool and the sky busy with clouds so low they almost touched the treetops.

Sage built a fire and took care of the horses. When she returned to the water's edge, she found that Drum had stripped to the waist and waded into the stream. He was using his shirt to wash away blood from both his face and arm.

Smiling, Sage kicked off her boots and walked into the cool water until she stood in front of him. "You remind me of a wounded bear."

He looked at her. She saw the fever in his gray eyes once more.

"Drum. let me help” He looked like he might push her away, but she moved closer. "We need to get you out of here and to the fire as soon as possible. You're in no shape to be standing in a stream." She tugged the wet shirt and bar of lye soap from his hand and began washing the infected wound.

He didn't argue or make a sound, but she knew the lye would burn against the wound.

She cleaned away the blood and then pulled him out of the water. By then he was shaking from fever and cold. After helping him strip off his remaining clothes, she insisted he lie on one open bedroll by the fire, and she covered him with the only blanket.

Near panic, she rushed to do everything that needed to be done. Without her bag of medicines, Sage drew on what she'd learned from her grandfather years ago. The Apache knew natural treatments, if only she could remember them.

She bound the cut on his forehead with a strip of cloth from her shirttail. Then she packed the infected bullet wound with a mixture of dried willow leaves and the soft interlining of elm bark. She found another shirt in his bags and helped him put it on, then she hung the rest of their clothes over branches to dry. Her underwear dried quickly on her body as she moved close to the fire.

She couldn't tell if he was sleeping or had passed out, but she made a soup from the last of his supply of jerky and wild turnip roots she found growing near the water. He had coffee and beans in his saddlebags as well, but she'd save them for later. The horse she felt sure Daniel Torry had stolen for her had nothing of use in the saddlebags. One broken gun, a pile of old clothes, and several cheap knives. The clothes were too dirty to use for bandages.

She finally decided to use the rags as a pillow for Drum. By nightfall she'd eaten half the soup and had even gotten him to eat a few bites. His fever still raged.

Sage built the fire as big as she dared and then curled beside him. He was so warm she had no need for the blanket but kept it wrapped tightly around him. She'd been so busy she hadn't had time to think about the men chasing them, but in the stillness, she worried. If they did find them, she needed to be prepared for that as well.

She moved the guns within easy reach and listened. The lone coyote reminded them that he was still trailing them. Logic told her he wouldn't go near the fire, and coyotes never attacked humans.

Sometime in the night Drum's fever broke, and he slept soundly. She was furious that he hadn't told her the wound on his arm wasn't healing. When he came to his senses, she planned to give him a piece of her mind. He was impossible to understand. He'd risked his life to save her, then he'd made her mad by telling her he wanted to bed her. The coyote probably had better courting skills than the man beside her. If her brothers knew half the things he said to her, they'd probably shoot him.

Sage smiled. She was flattered and insulted at the same time. Maybe Drum was right for her. They were both crazy. In the morning, if he was better, she'd explain one more time why she wasn't interested in him.

When she awoke with a start, her first thought was that he'd died. She moved her hands over his cool body until she spread her fingers over his heart and felt the steady beat.

"I'm all right?" he whispered, turning to face her.

She rose to an elbow and looked into his wonderful clear gray eyes. "You gave me quite a fright.”

"Sorry.” He ran his fingers through his hair. "Yesterday was a fog. I remember falling and then riding. I remember you taking my clothes off.” He lifted the blanket off his chest. "That last part I wish I could remember more clearly.”

Sage smiled. "I think you'll live. How about some breakfast? We've got beans and coffee."

An hour later, they'd eaten and she'd checked his wounds before allowing him to dress. Drum wasn't shy about his body; he had no reason to be. She told herself she was a doctor and had seen hundreds of bodies, but she still caught herself admiring him. Drummond Roak was a sight to see as he walked out of the water, his nude body sparkling in the morning sun. She knew she shouldn't, but she took her time looking.

He dried off and pulled his pants on before she stepped close enough to wrap the wound on his arm. It looked much better but would still require watching.

"That cut in your hairline has stopped bleeding.”

"I'm fine.” He pushed her hand away.

"You were almost dead yesterday. You'll be weak today." He nodded. "All right, we take it slow. Stop bossing me around."

She tied off the dressing around his arm, knowing that he was angry. He didn't like being hurt or bossed. Her first urge was to yell at him, but she decided to take another route. "Can we start over, Drum?"

He frowned at her.

She didn't meet his gaze. "I feel like I've been fighting with you since birth. Can we just start over and be friends from here on out? If we work together, we'll have a better chance of staying alive and making Galveston.”

He was silent for so long she wasn't sure he would answer. Finally, he said, "I don't want to be your friend, Sage. I want to be a great deal more than that, but if friendship is all you're offering, I'll take it for now.”

She nodded. "It's all I'm offering. Despite how I hate you and you drive me crazy sometimes, you're one of the few people in this world I trust. When I was kidnapped. I knew you'd come after me.”

"Then trust me now, Sage. I'll get you home safely. I promise."

When she stepped closer, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Friends?" she whispered.

"Friends," he said, kissing the top of her head.

They mounted and headed back toward Galveston, staying in the tree line so no one could spot them easily. After five hours of riding, they stopped long enough to rest the horses and let them graze on the small clumps of grass still green beneath tree branches.

"I'm so hungry I could almost eat grass," Sage complained.

Drum had spread out to rest. He didn't open his eyes when he answered, "I can't risk a shot, even if I saw a rabbit, and we don't have time to fish.”

She sat down beside him. "I know. Maybe we could find the coyote and strangle him for lunch.”

Drum laughed.

Sage sighed. "Tell me about Whispering Mountain. It was spring when I left. Spring of 1856."

"I know the date," he said.

"What's changed since I've been gone?" She lay beside him.

"Teagen and Jessie's three girls are growing like weeds. Emily is about ten now and proper as any lady. She even talked Teagen into ordering her one of those English riding saddles. Rose has decided she wants to be a teacher like Mrs. Dickerson. She skipped the first grade after a week of school and went right to the second. Bethie is five, with the most beautiful mess of auburn hair you've ever seen. She thinks she wants to grow up to be Apache. All the girls ride well, but Teagen says his Bethie rides like you did when you were her age, free and wild.”

Sage laughed. These were details her brothers left out of their letters.

"Travis and Rainey live in Austin most of the time, but they still stay at their place on the ranch in the summers. Duck's as wild as ever. Last I heard, he was building a fort in the trees as a hideout from the girls. Rainey had another baby this past spring, but I forgot what they said it was. I haven't seen your family for months”

She smiled, remembering the little boy they all called Duck. Travis had saved him from men who'd killed his family and planned to sell him. Duck wouldn't talk when he came to them, but he followed Travis around like a baby duckling follows his mother.

"Tobin is still trying to keep up with his busy wife. They spend time up near the capital every winter, but come spring, he has to be with his horses. I can't remember how many kids they got. In fact, when I'm around all the McMurrays, it's hard to tell whose kids are whose. There's a whole batch of little ones. Teagen says when they all hit school age, they'll have to build a second room onto the schoolhouse.”

"The main house has doubled in size, and there still doesn't seem like enough room. Martha is retired but comes over al most every day to help out. Last time I stopped by, she filled my saddlebags with ginger cookies.”

Sage leaned back next to him and said simply, “Thanks.” "Anytime," he answered as he closed his hand over hers. "You'll be there soon.”

A half hour later they were riding again, but something had changed. There was a truce between them. She knew it wouldn't last, but she was thankful for it now. They did have something in common, she realized: They both loved Whispering Mountain.

An hour before nightfall, she spotted the thin curl of smoke a few miles ahead of them. She pulled her horse beside Drum and pointed.

"I know?" he whispered. "I've been watching it”

"What do we do?"

"It's not the raiders, unless it's some kind of trap. Which is not likely. My guess is it's just a traveler like us”

She agreed. "Do we ride around, or do we go closer?" Drum grinned. "We ride in. They might have food they're willing to share.”

She let him take the lead as they approached the campfire. If there was trouble, she was far enough behind in the shadows not to be seen.

"Hello the camp." he called.

The distinct click of a round being chambered echoed in the silent air. "Ride in slow and unarmed," came a call no one would mistake as friendly.

Drum kept his hands clearly visible as he walked his horse in. "I mean no harm, stranger, just wondering if I could share your fire.”

Sage remained in the shadows, but she could see both men clearly in the firelight.

The tall cowboy lowered his rifle. "You and your woman hiding there in the trees are welcome. I've got food to spare, and I'll welcome the company.”

Drum offered his hand. "Thanks. Name's Roak."

The cowboy smiled. "I seen you before in Galveston. I saw you sweep a little lady out of harm's way when she stepped in the street to save a dog” He glanced toward the shadows. "That her with you?"

Drum motioned Sage in. "That's her. I'm still saving her life every chance I get”

The cowboy laughed. "I sure wouldn't have thought you two would end up together the way she was yelling at you that day." He nodded. "Evening, miss."

Sage walked slowly to the fire. "I remember you. We saw you on the boardwalk and again in Shelley's place just before the robbery.” She might not have noticed him in the bar, but Bonnie had pointed him out.

Drum straightened slightly.

The cowboy laughed nervously. "I don't remember seeing you in the gambling hole by the water. All I know is I heard the bell that signals trouble in the place, and I hightailed it out of there as fast as I could” He turned to meat cooking on green sticks. "As I was running. I heard shots. Hope you weren't hurt none if you were still in there."

Sage told him about her trouble as they ate. Drum sat back, silent as ever. She got the feeling he didn't trust the cowboy, but the man seemed to be going out of his way to be friendly. He even made coffee and shared a bag of biscuits he said he'd made himself.

"Was the woman you were with that morning on the walkway also with you in Shelley's place? I remember her being tall."

"Yes." Sage fought back tears. "But I don't know where she is. I hope she's somewhere safe."

"I'm sure she is," he said. "She's probably waiting for you right now in Galveston.”

"I hope so," Sage said as she curled up on the bedroll Drum had laid by the fire.

"Sage?" Drum said after a few minutes.

No answer.

"She's asleep," he said as he turned toward the cowboy. "I don't believe I caught your name."

"Brad.” the cowboy said, "Bradford Summerfield."

Drum met his gaze across the campfire. "You know more than you're saying about that robbery back at Shelley's place, but I reckon you weren't part of the gang, or you'd have stayed around long enough to know that Sage had been kidnapped”

Brad didn't say a word, and he wasn't fool enough to reach for his rifle.

"Mind if I ask you what you're doing out here in the middle of nowhere?" Drum kept his tone low.

"I'm waiting for my brother. He was supposed to drop by my place a few days ago”

Drum studied the man. He looked too poor to be one of the robbers. From his gear and clothes, Drum would guess this man worked hard for his living. "Your brother named Solomon Summerfield?"

"Maybe, but if you're the law, I don't know where he is, and wouldn't tell you if I did know."

Drum shook his head. "I'm not the law.” He pulled the blanket over Sage's shoulder. "When I heard she was kidnapped, I came after her."

"She your woman?"

"Yes, but she don't know it yet."

Brad smiled as if he understood. "How do you know my brother?"

"I don't." Drum pulled the paper from his saddlebag. "I found a dead man a half mile from the opening of Skull Alley. He had this in his hand.” He passed the note to the cowboy. "He'd been shot at close range in the face. I buried him there."

Brad took the note and stared at it for a while before he said. "I can't read. Could you tell me what it says?"

Drum took the paper. "It's a deed to a square of land west of Galveston called Cedar Hills Ranch."

The big man crumpled to his knee, holding his middle as if he'd been kicked by a horse. He fought to draw a breath.

Drum gave the man time to get a handle on his breathing before he added, "It's made out in both your names. The land is yours now."

One gulping sob came from the cowboy. "I told him not to try to get it back, but he wouldn't listen. He hooked up with a gang for one job. He didn't even want any share of the money; he only wanted the deed from Shelley's safe."

Drum understood. "Problem was, the gang didn't want any witnesses. My guess is they planned to kill him the minute he signed on. They waited until the last day in case a posse caught up to them, and they needed an extra gun. That morning, just outside Skull Alley, they figured they were safe enough”

Drum handed him back the deed. "Just so you know, I would have killed your brother myself for kidnapping Sage if I'd caught up with the gang."

Brad nodded. "I thought I could help him. I'm the one who talked him into filing for the land, but ranch life was too hard a way of life for him. He couldn't have had it more than a year before he lost it gambling at Shelley's place. He claimed he was drugged. I think he was madder about that than about losing the land. I went in that day planning to pull him out if firing started. I wanted no part of the robbery."

"He probably was drugged. I've heard a few complaints about Shelley's place. If a man has anything valuable in his pockets when he walks in, he'd better keep it to himself.” Drum pulled a flask of whiskey from his saddlebags. He'd refused to drink it when he'd been shot because he wanted his head clear if trouble found them. He offered it to the cowboy.

They sat in the night and drank. Brad agreed to stay put for a day just in case Drum and Sage were being tracked. The men didn't become friends, but they respected each other.

Finally, after midnight. Drum lay down beside Sage, but he never went to sleep. He guessed Bradford was on the other side of the fire doing the same.

Drum liked the feel of her all warm and soft next to him. She was his. When she stopped fighting the idea, he planned to make love to her slow and easy. She'd never been handled right by a man, he could tell. She wouldn't take to being bossed or bullied, but once she took to him, he intended to hold her every night for the rest of her life, and when they died, they'd be buried side by side. He might not be her first lover, but he'd be her last.

An hour before dawn, while fog still hung low to the ground, Brad lifted a sleeping Sage up into Drum's arms as he straddled Satan. They rode off, leaving the cowboy alone at the camp.

After dawn, Drum looked back and noticed the smoke. Brad must have built the fire high so that anyone riding within miles would notice it.

If he wasn't careful, he'd suffer the same fate as his brother.