Unexpectedly, he reached over and caught one of her hands in his as his stirrup tangled with her own for a moment. He drew her hand up to his face, brushing her fingertips across his mustache and smiling.
“You been pinchin’ sage leaves again,” he said. Dropping her hand, he clicked his tongue and sent the gelding into a gallop. “Come on, Bullet. Woooo whoooo!” he whooped, taking his hat from his head and slapping the gelding’s hindquarters. Sage laughed wholeheartedly, delighted with Reb’s excitement.
“Go on, Ned,” she said, loosening her hold on the reins. Ned seemed to draw pleasure from the freedom of the gallop, as did Sage. She felt happy, carefree, excited. Emotions that had eluded her for so long now traveled without restraint through every part of her being. Suddenly, the sun seemed to shine brighter, the wildflowers seemed more drenched in color, and Sage knew only elation.
When they reached the herd, Sage directed Ned to one far side of it. She had ridden plenty but hadn’t had much experience with herding cattle. Reb rode at a full gallop, reining in next to Charlie Dugger, and whistling loudly to Bullet to quiet his excited barking. The two men struck hands, and even over the rumble of the herd, Sage could hear the happy sounds of two friends greeting each other with joy and laughter.
Reb rode next to Charlie for a few minutes and then whistled, waving his arm in the air, gesturing to Sage to join them. The herd was enormous, more than just a little intimidating, but Sage knew Reb would look out for her. Brushing several windblown strands of hair from her face, she rode over to meet them.
Charlie Dugger pulled the bandana from his face and smiled at Sage as she approached.
“Dugger,” Reb said above the rumble of the cattle. “This here’s Miss Sage Willows. Sage, this here’s my old saddle pal, Charlie Dugger.”
Charlie Dugger touched the brim of his hat and smiled at Sage. “I seen this pretty young miss at the boardin’ house when we was a-comin’ through town this mornin’, Reb,” he said. “Mornin’, Miss Willows.”
“Good mornin’, Mr. Dugger,” Sage said, blushing at his calling her pretty.
“Whatcha think of Reb’s herd?” Charlie asked.
Sage smiled, nodding. “It’s big.” Charlie and Reb both laughed.
“That it is, miss. That it is,” Charlie said. “How much farther we got to go to the ranch?” he asked Reb.
“Less than a mile,” Reb said. “Yer almost at the end of the trail, boy.”
Charlie laughed and shook his head. “Good thing,” he said. “My backside’s been numb for two days.”
A puff of dust suddenly filled Sage’s nostrils, and she coughed, elated when Reb reached over and adjusted her bandana around her face.
“Reb?” Charlie began, “Think ya can double up somehow? Sammy’s horse has been limpin’ the last bit. He’s been walkin’ since town.”
“Sure thing,” Reb said. He held his hand out to Sage. “Climb on behind me,” he said to her. “Sammy can take Ned,” he told Charlie. Sage paused, however, unsettled at the thought of riding with Reb.
Reb wiggled his fingers and nodded at her. “Come on. I ain’t gonna eat ya,” he chuckled. He turned the gelding around, allowing Sage to ease over onto the horse’s hindquarters behind him. Taking a deep breath, Sage removed her feet from the stirrups of her saddle and awkwardly mounted the gelding, Reb holding her arm tightly and helping her settle.
Handing Ned’s reins to Charlie, he said, “Take ol’ Ned back to Sammy, and I’ll ride on ahead of the herd. Meet ya at the ranch for breakfast.”
“All righty,” Charlie said, leading Ned toward the back of the herd.
“Hang on there, Sage,” Reb chuckled, reaching behind him, taking hold of her hands and placing them around his waist to settle at his stomach. Reb nudged the horse with his stirrups, whistling to Bullet, and Sage tightened her embrace around him as they rode out in front of the herd.
“I love the smell of dust and cattle,” Reb said, inhaling deeply.
“It’s a good thing,” Sage giggled. “ ’Cause we’re covered in them both now.”
Reb chuckled, patting her hands where they locked at his waist. “I’m gonna make Aunt Eugenia’s ranch one of the best in the territory,” he said. “You just wait and see.”
“I don’t doubt it one bit,” Sage told him.
She loved the feel of Reb in her arms—the warmth of his skin—the movement of his muscles as he rode. She so badly wanted to lay her cheek against his back, tighten her embrace around him, and stay that way forever. She knew these were rare and precious moments spent with Reb. Fleeting ones. But she wouldn’t let reality taint them either. She looked up to the blue of the sky—the puffy white of the clouds floating overhead—and smiled. It was a moment she had only found in dreams before. In fact, the moment itself was far more wonderful than even her dreams.
When the ranch house and barn were in sight, Bullet barked happily and raced up to the porch. Reb reined in before the barn and let Sage take his arm, helping her to dismount.
Bullet began barking as the herd approached, and soon Eugenia, Mary, Rose, and Livie were all out on the porch, shading their eyes from the sun and smiling as they watched the cowboys bring in the herd.
Reb rode out to help, and before long the herd was quenching their thirst in the creek beds behind the ranch house.
“There’s the crick, boys,” Reb hollered. “Get to it…’cause I can smell the bacon fryin’ already!” Sage laughed with delight as she watched the tired, dusty cowboys whoop and holler on their way to the creek. No doubt they were ready for a good washing off and a good meal.
The chuck wagon rolled toward the ranch slowly, and Reb went out to greet its driver, an older man with a long white beard. Sage looked at the herd of cows, smiled at the smell of dust and manure and the sounds of the cowboys splashing in the creek behind the house. It was all so wonderful!
“Breakfast is ’bout ready, Reb,” Mary called as Reb rode toward the barn, leading Sammy’s lame horse behind him.
“Thank ya, Miss Mary,” he called. “I’ll be in shortly.”
Sage smiled and followed him to the barn, intending to help him brush down the gelding and limping mare.
“Will she be all right?” she asked as Reb lifted the mare’s foot to inspect it.
“Don’t know,” he said. “We’ll just have to see.” He let the mare’s foot drop and sighed, smiling. “It’s amazin’, isn’t it?” he asked. “How excited a man can get about a herd of cattle?”
Sage giggled. “And over a cloud of dust. You’re filthy!” she told him. Reb smiled and looked down at his chest.
“Yer purty roughed up too, Miss Sage,” he teased, nodding at her.
“Not as much as you are,” she said, smiling. A thick coat of dust covered Reb from head to toe, and without any forethought, Sage moistened one index finger, reaching out and running it down the solid muscles of his chest. Holding the finger up for him to inspect she said, “See?”
But Reb’s smile had faded instantly—his eyes narrowing as he stared at her. Abruptly he reached out and caught her wrist in his hand as if to keep her from touching him again.
Slowly he shook his head, whispering, “No, no, no.”
Sage was horrified! How could she have been so forward—so indecent? Before he could reprimand her further, she opened her mouth to apologize, but the words never left her throat. In the next instant, Reb’s grip on her wrist tightened, pushing her hand down and holding it at her back. His other hand rather roughly cupped her cheek, pulling her face to his as his mouth descended on her own in a firm, moist, very intimate kiss.
Sage stood stiff—frozen with astonishment. Having experienced very few such moments in her life, not only was she surprised by Reb’s unexpected attention, she was entirely awestruck by the demanding, passionate nature of his kiss. The space inside her chest burned hot, uncomfortably so. Her fingers and toes were numb—her knees weak. Every inch of her body (even her hair) seemed to quiver with some euphoric tingling s
ensation!
Reb’s hand, holding hers at her back, released her wrist, joining his other hand in cradling her face. The whiskers of his mustache and goatee brushed the flesh around her mouth softly, and Sage’s mind began to whirl in a mist of enchanted emotion. Her knees being weak—Reb’s driven, delicious kiss bewitching her—she let her hands press gently against his chest. His mouth pressed even more firmly to hers for a lingering moment before he suddenly broke the seal of their lips, taking her hands in his and letting his thumbs caress her palms as he looked down at them.
Abruptly he dropped her hands, turned, and loosened the cinch of the lame horse’s saddle.
“I better clean up a bit before I come in for breakfast,” he mumbled. Sage stood still for a moment, struggling to steady her breathing and to find her balance. She felt dizzy, almost faint—the lingering effects of Reb’s masterful kiss.
Finally, she managed to stammer, “I’ll go check on things in the house.” Quickly she exited the barn—suddenly a trembling mess of conflicting emotion—and headed for the ranch house. Glancing up to the blue sky, she wished the puffy white clouds setting so happily there would turn dark and ominous. She could feel the tears gathering in her eyes—tears of elation, tears of confusion—and tears of heartache.
What had happened in the barn? Reb had kissed her! But why? She had only touched him with one finger—only meant to tease him about the layer of dust clinging thick to his skin. She thought of his kiss again and stumbled—her feet still numb from his affectionate attention. And yet, something was wrong. With all that was right in the day, something was terribly wrong. Reb deeply regretted kissing her—she knew it. She wanted to run, to run all the way to Ruthie’s pasture—throw herself on the ground and sob bitter tears of disappointment and confusion. But there would be no rain today.
“Bacon’s all fried up, Sage,” Livie said as Sage stumbled onto the porch.
“That’s nice,” Sage mumbled, brushing past her.
“You all right, honey?” Eugenia asked, sincere concern apparent on her face.
Sage forced a halfhearted smile. “Just not used to ridin’ as much anymore, I reckon,” she said.
Reb draped his arms across the gelding’s back, laying his head against the animal for a moment. What had he been thinking? One touch and his defenses had failed him. One slight caress from one of Sage’s pretty fingers and his mind had emptied of any memory of Ivy Dalton.
He closed his eyes tightly shut and tried to recall the exact shape of Ivy’s face, the perfect sunshine of her hair. All he could see was the lovely face of Sage Willows—her hair windblown and untidy, dust smudges on her nose and chin, the soft pink of joy on her cheeks. He stood straight, rubbing at the whiskers on his chin. What a kiss he had forced on her! Not some sweet, careful kiss the like he had first given Ivy so long ago. No—he had really stepped in it—too tempted by the lure of her innocently parted lips—tasting her mouth without pause.
He looked down to the one clean streak of flesh on his chest—the place where her finger had traveled over it. Shaking his head, he swore angrily under his breath. It was time to reorder—restock his resistances. She wouldn’t get to him again—wouldn’t break through his emotional barricades.
Spitting in his hand, he rubbed at his chest, rinsing away the dust and vanquishing Sage’s mark over his heart. Reb Mitchell had no heart. Not one made of flesh anyway. Still, as he walked to the creek to wash up with the others, he couldn’t get Sage’s face out of his mind—couldn’t drive the sweet savor of her kiss from his lips. One touch was all it had taken. One.
Chapter Five
“We saw some big cat tracks down by the crick there, Reb,” Charlie Dugger said as he folded up another piece of bacon and stuffed it into his mouth.
“What?” Eugenia exclaimed.
Sage glanced at Reb. He nodded and breathed a heavy sigh. She quickly looked away, however, uncomfortable in his presence because of what had just happened in the barn.
“Yep. I saw ’em the other day too,” Reb admitted.
“Reb!” Eugenia said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He knew ya’d worry yerself to death,” Mary answered. Eugenia looked to Mary, her mouth gaping open in astonishment.
“You knew?” Eugenia asked.
Mary nodded and said, “Gareth Getcher told me yesterday the Phillips found their dog all chewed up last week…figured it was a mountain lion by the tracks ’round its bloody carcass.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Mary,” Livie whined. “You’ve completely ruined my appetite.”
“Ya done ate a half a pound a bacon on yer own while we was cookin’ this mornin’, Livie,” Mary grumbled. “I ’spect ya’ll live.”
Eugenia covered Reb’s hand with her own and said, “Is that why you looked so upset when you come up from the crick just now, boy? Are you worried about the cattle?”
Sage looked up to Reb but immediately shifted her focus when his narrowed, angry-looking eyes met hers for a moment.
“Yep,” Reb said. “Don’t need a cat spookin’ the herd.”
“This here’s the finest meal I’ve had in weeks, ladies,” one of the cowboys said, smiling as he shoveled another bite of eggs into his mouth.
“Well, you boys look so nice and fresh after bathin’ in the crick…we thought we’d fatten ya up some too,” Rose told him.
A bevy of compliments followed as each hungry, and no doubt tired, cowboy said his thanks. Even the old chuck wagon driver seemed happy to eat something besides his own cooking.
Sage thought how tired they all must be—how sore their bodies were from being on the trail so long. Still, her mind was alive with confusion over what had happened between her and Reb in the barn. It had been fabulous! It had been heartbreaking too. What had prompted Reb to act so strangely—so unpredictably? She thought of the feel of his mouth pressed to hers—the smell of his skin. She closed her eyes for a moment trying to dispel the image of his handsome face—the way he had looked the moment before kissing her.
“You all right, Sage?” Eugenia was asking. Sage opened her eyes, and she forced a smile.
“I’m fine,” she lied, noting the way Reb’s eyes lingered on her suspiciously. “Just wishin’ I had a fresh dress. This dust is chokin’ me.”
Eugenia studied Sage for a moment. Something was wrong. She looked to Reb. She sensed unrest in him too. Had something happened during their ride out to meet the herd? She was certain it had.
“Well,” she began, “we’ll finish up breakfast for these hungry boys and get back to the boardin’ house so you can freshen up.”
“Unless ya wanna run on down to the crick and…” Mary began.
“No, no,” Sage interrupted. “I’ll be fine.”
Mary could be so exasperating at times. Sage tried not to blush as she felt every pair of cowboy eyes in the room settle on her.
“We seen Ivy Dalton in town ’fore we left, Reb,” one of the cowboys said. Sage saw Charlie nudge the man with his elbow, frowning at him.
“Did ya now?” Reb mumbled.
“How is Ivy?” Eugenia asked. After glancing at Reb—who shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of indifference—it was Charlie who answered.
“Oh, she ain’t changed much, Miss Eugenia. Not much at all,” he said.
“Well, that doesn’t surprise me one bit,” Eugenia mumbled.
“You boys can take to the bunkhouse as soon as yer ready,” Reb said, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. Sage felt her heart begin to hammer with anxiety. At the mere mention of the name Ivy Dalton, Reb had turned pale and angry and clearly wanted the subject hushed. “I’ll check on the herd and meet ya out there later on to pay ya yer wages.” He stood, ready to leave the table, but paused. “That was a hard trail, boys,” he said. “I thank ya for yer help and hard work. Enjoy the rest of yer breakfast now, all right?”
The men all nodded and thanked him in return. He left the room without another word.
“Seems to me
the name Ivy Dalton don’t set too well with Reb,” Mary whispered to Sage. “Must be some history there, I reckon.”
Sage glanced to Charlie Dugger. He smiled and nodded at her, a rather guilty expression on his handsome face. He had known darn well Reb didn’t want to hear tell of Ivy Dalton, and that fact drove Sage’s curiosity to a peak.
“You stayin’ on, Charlie?” Eugenia asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” the man answered, running his fingers through his dark hair. “Plan on helpin’ Reb out as long as he’ll have me.”
Eugenia smiled and said, “I’m sure he’s plum tickled to have you.”
“Hope so, ma’am,” he said, smiling. Looking to Sage he asked, “Do ya run that boardin’ house in town then, Miss Willows?”
Sage smiled. He was a charming man, good-looking too. Not as handsome, and not as charming perhaps, as Reb, but sweet all the same. He looked somewhat older than the other cowboys—more matured—with a bit of gray at his temples.
“Yes, I do, Mr. Dugger,” Sage answered. “It fell to me when my parents passed on some years back.”
“Well, it’s a nice-lookin’ place,” Charlie said.
“It is,” Sage said. “You’ll have to come out for supper with us one night.”
“I’d like that, Miss Willows,” he said, smiling.
Sage smiled. She liked this Charlie Dugger. Furthermore, Reb seemed to like him—trust him—and he seemed to know an awful lot more than she did about their mutual acquaintance. Yes, it might be to her great advantage to befriend Charlie.
Reb slammed a fist into a fencepost. Angrily unbuttoning his shirt—for he had managed to remember his manners and put a shirt on after returning from the creek—he breathed a heavy sigh and looked over the herd before him. How could such a wonderful morning have turned on him so quickly? He thought of how his spirit soared when he had first seen the herd—of how wonderful it was to see Sage smiling, her soft hair so windblown and free. He closed his eyes and remembered the feel of her face between his hands—the flavor of her kiss. She had been distressed by his kissing her, he knew it. She was inexperienced as well—uncertain of how to go about returning such a driven attack on her tender lips. It was further proof of his being completely damaged—worthless to anyone outside his family and tight circle of friends. He couldn’t even offer a woman a decent kiss anymore.
The Touch of Sage Page 9
