Rosanne Bittner

by Paradise Valley

  Maggie saw someone riding toward them from the house and instantly knew the reason Joe had cursed. Even from this distance, she could see it was a woman.

  “Let’s go, boys!” Joe spoke louder. He glanced at Maggie. “Right glad to see you came back with Sage.”

  “I’m glad to be back.”

  “We’re lookin’ forward to more of that chicken stew.”

  Maggie smiled and nodded as all the men rode off. I hope I’m here long enough to cook for all of you, she thought. She rode up beside Sage then, and her heart nearly stopped beating as she watched the woman ride closer. She’d never considered that anyone could actually look elegant bouncing up and down on a horse, but this woman did. She rode sidesaddle, like a proper lady should. Maggie didn’t even know how to ride sidesaddle.

  The woman’s dress was finer than any Maggie had seen, a green that matched the grass. It was made out of beautiful, crisp cotton material, and it perfectly accentuated the woman’s voluptuous figure.

  She didn’t need to dismount for Maggie to tell she was tall, a head taller than Maggie, which meant, she probably had long lovely legs. Her blond hair was piled into perfect curls, upon which sat a lovely bonnet of green velvet and darker green ribbon, with a touch of silk flowers. She wore gloves that matched her dress. Everything about her spoke of money and schooling and beauty, and Maggie couldn’t figure out how in the world she was able to quickly groom herself to such perfection. Did she dress like that for household chores?

  “Sage!” the woman called as she drew close. “Thank God, you’re finally back!” Her lightly painted, perfect full lips opened into a lovely smile that in turn showed perfect teeth.

  Sage kept the cigarette between his lips. “Hello, Joanna.”

  Forty-seven

  Joanna urged her horse closer and reached out to touch the still-scabbed scar on Sage’s face. “My God, Sage, what happened to you? I’ve been so worried! When I heard about the reason you left, the kind of men you were after—”

  Sage grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand away. “What are you doing here, Joanna?”

  Her smile faded. “Now what kind of a greeting is that?”

  “The kind a man gives a woman who divorced him and took off with his money.” Sage spoke the words matter-of-factly.

  Joanna’s cheeks flushed. “You don’t need to be so mean, Sage.”

  Sage’s horse tossed its head and snorted, as though it too, disapproved of Joanna’s presence.

  “Look, Joanna, Maggie and I have been to hell and back,” he said. “I’m in a pretty foul mood, so coming home to find the woman who once tried to cut my heart out living in my house and pretending nothing ever happened doesn’t set well. And you might show a little concern for the woman beside me. Her name is Maggie Tucker, and she’s been through things you never would have survived.”

  Joanna glanced at Maggie. “Well, of course. I’m sorry for what happened to you, Maggie. You must come to the house, and I’ll help you clean up.”

  “No, thank you,” Maggie answered, devastated at the condition she was in compared to the stunning Joanna. “I’ll be fine on my own. You and Sage have things to talk about.”

  Joanna turned her attention to Sage again. “My gosh, Sage, she’s a child.”

  “She’s by God no child, I guarantee that. And I asked you what you’re doing here.”

  Joanna stiffened. “Well, I…” Her eyes filled with more tears. She seemed hurt by Sage’s abruptness. “I guess I’ve gone about this all wrong.”

  “I guess you have,” Sage grumbled.

  Joanna maneuvered her horse closer. “I’m sorry for the surprise at such a bad time, Sage, but how was I to know? I wanted to get here before you left on a cattle drive. And I’m here because I missed you. I’ve come to realize you’re my only true friend.” She reached out and touched his leg, leaning in close to talk directly to Sage as though Maggie weren’t there. “I still love you, Sage. I did a stupid thing, and I want a second chance. I’ve waited here alone nearly six weeks. That should tell you how sincere I am, but we don’t need to talk about it right now. I can see you need to clean up and rest first.”

  Sage snickered. “Jesus, Joanna, did you honestly think it would be this easy? You just show up, and we go on as though nothing happened? You hate it here—remember? So what’s the real reason you came back? Are you broke again?”

  Joanna jerked her arm away, a tear running down her cheek. “How can you be so insulting to the woman you always loved? I came back to ask your forgiveness, Sage. I’m so sorry for all that happened.”

  Sage took the cigarette from his mouth. “You’re one hell of a good liar, Joanna, I’ll say that. And truth or not, this isn’t the time to profess your love and talk about forgiveness. I’m not much good at it.” He took up the reins of his packhorse. “Let’s get to the house, Maggie.”

  Maggie rode beside him, saying nothing. She could feel Sage’s tension. The air hung thick with it, and she feared it came more from Sage wanting Joanna, than from being angry. When they reached the house and prepared to dismount, Maggie could see Joanna was still quietly crying.

  Maggie’s heart fell. The woman honestly did seem to love Sage and want him back. She had, after all, waited six weeks by herself. If Sage decided to believe she was sincere…

  “Sage,” Maggie spoke up as he climbed off his horse. He tied the horse and came to help her down, but Maggie waved him off. “You and Joanna go inside and talk things out,” Maggie told him. “I’m just in the way right now.” She struggled not to show her own tears.

  Sage removed his hat and rubbed his eyes. “Where in hell would you go? You need to get inside and clean up and get some rest. God knows, we both need a lot more sleep.”

  Maggie knew by his words that he agreed with her. She felt sorry for his awkward predicament, and she hated Joanna for putting him in such a situation at probably the worst time she could have chosen.

  “Is that little cabin still empty?” she asked Sage. “The one where Standing Wolf lived with his wife?”

  Sage looked beyond the house to the tiny log cabin several hundred yards to the south. “Far as I know. I don’t know what kind of shape it’s in, Maggie. It’s just one room with a woodstove and—”

  “Sage, after everything I’ve been through, that cabin will seem like heaven, no matter what shape it’s in. And it’s bound to be better than that rambling old shack we stayed in when I was hurt.”

  He met her eyes. That shack was the first place they’d made love, and Maggie was damn determined to remind him. “You do what you have to do, Sage Lightfoot. Do what you want to do in order to be happy. I’ll be just fine.”

  Sage took hold of her hand. “I’m sorry for this mess, Maggie.”

  “So am I.” Maggie glanced at Joanna, who was watching and listening. Joanna covered her face and cried even harder. Maggie actually felt a little sorry for the way Sage had talked to her. If she wasn’t sincere, then she was indeed a wonderful actress.

  Maggie backed up her horse. “I’ll take my satchel and go to the cabin. I can have one of the men bring me whatever I might need.”

  “Maggie—” Sage caught hold of her horse.

  “Take Joanna inside. This isn’t something you can put off, Sage. You have decisions to make.” She turned her horse. “Even if it takes all night,” she added, anger rising deep inside now. This was certainly not the homecoming she’d imagined. Joanna had ruined it. She told herself the woman couldn’t possibly understand what she and Sage had been through, so she couldn’t be totally to blame for the awkward position they faced.

  She rode off, wanting to cry and scream. She couldn’t hold a candle to the beautiful, sophisticated Joanna, and she knew the woman would do everything in her power to entice Sage into taking her back. Maybe she’d even talk him into sleeping with her tonight. Sage was tired and vulnerable.

  She slowed her horse and looked back. Joanna was crying in Sage’s arms. Maggie felt like someone had stuck a knife
in her heart. They were home now… back to reality. The journey was over… in more ways than one.

  Forty-eight

  Maggie cleaned up the cabin as best she could, her heart aching to realize two people in love had lived here once.

  She pulled blankets from the wood-frame bed, wanting to keep busy… busy… busy. What was happening at the house? She hated Joanna for jerking Sage’s feelings one way and another, toying with his emotions. She folded the blankets and laid them on a trunk in the corner. She ached with a need to sleep, but she knew sleep wouldn’t come, and she needed clean blankets.

  She built a fire in the woodstove. Even though the air outside was warm, the cabin was chilly and damp from not being used. She took a kettle from the top of the stove and made ready to take it outside to a nearby well, so she could heat water and wash. Someone knocked on the door before she reached it. She opened it to see Joe and Hank standing there, one man holding an armful of blankets and towels, the other carrying a loaf of bread and a kettle of hot water.

  “Sage said we should bring this stuff over here, ma’am,” Hank told her.

  Maggie felt relief that Sage had thought to do that much. “Oh, thank you. Come on in,” she told the two men, with whom she felt completely relaxed now. She remembered meeting the plump, balding Joe Cable at the line shack where she’d taken Sage after the bear attack.

  Hank turned and spit tobacco juice on the ground before coming inside with the hot water. “I’ve got a jar of jam too,” he told her. He set the kettle on the stove and put the bread on a small wooden table in the corner, then pulled a small jar of dark jam from where he’d stuck it into his waist. He set it on the table, while Joe put the blankets on the thin mattress supported by rope springs. Both men stood there for a moment then, awkward and uncomfortable, glancing at each other as though they had something to say.

  Maggie folded her arms and frowned. “What is it?”

  Hank cleared his throat and scratched at his proverbial stubble of a beard. “Ma’am, we want you to know we greatly admire what a strong woman you are. Me and Joe—we know what it’s like out there in the places you and Sage went. We figured you’d never make it back, and we want you to know that we’re glad you did… and that we hope you’ll stay.”

  Maggie wanted to hug them, but she knew that would only embarrass them and make them feel more uncomfortable. “You have no idea how much that means to me,” she told them. “But whether I stay depends on Sage.”

  Joe removed his hat. “Pardon us bein’ so bold, ma’am, but we’re all hopin’ it’s you who stays. Ain’t no woman ought to be forgiven for what that one at the house did to Sage. If Sage don’t see your worth compared to that woman, it’s gonna be hard for us men not to take him out to the barn and make him regret it.”

  Maggie couldn’t help a smile, even a light laugh. “Well, I’d like to watch, and maybe, get in a punch of my own.”

  Hank grinned, his teeth brown from too much chewing tobacco. “We’re hopin’ that means… well… all of us was hopin’ by the time you two got back, there’d be somethin’ more between you than goin’ after those men, if you know what I mean.”

  Maggie felt her cheeks growing hot. “I know what you mean… but there are complications.” I’m carrying the child of one of the men Sage killed. She reached out and touched Hank’s arm. “Thank you for the kind words. Whatever happens, I’ll never forget any of you or the things I’ve learned over the past couple of months.”

  She put on a brave front until the two men walked out. She couldn’t help the tears then. It wasn’t just from the possibility of losing Sage. It was a culmination of all that had taken place. She even wept for James, lying alone out there on the plains. She wept for the little girl she’d never hold again, buried a thousand miles away. She’d never again visit either grave. She wept for the life growing now in her belly. If she ended up heading out on her own, she had to start thinking about how she was going to support and protect her child. She had to think about where she would go, what she could do to earn a living, without compromising her pride and morals like Kate ended up doing. She even wept over how much she’d miss the men on this ranch.

  After several minutes, she straightened and vowed to stop feeling sorry for herself. She’d fallen in love, and she’d made the decision to sleep with Sage Lightfoot because it was so wonderful to love and be loved properly by a man. She’d made the decision to keep her baby, and she was the one who’d decided not to tell Sage. It wasn’t his fault he was blindsided by the news. He thought he could trust her implicitly, and trusting was a delicate matter for a man who’d been hurt so deeply by his own wife.

  She busied herself again, put clean blankets on the bed, locked the door, and stripped down to wash. She took her time, letting the hot water calm her. She dried off and put on a clean flannel nightgown rather than dress again, figuring she’d spend the rest of the night in this cabin.

  How will Sage and Joanna spend the night?

  She couldn’t wash her hair with a basin of hot water, so she simply unpinned the bun and brushed it out. Frustration, anger, jealousy, and a determination to hold her head up caused her to brush harder than normal. All she could see was Joanna—beautiful, poised, perfect. She could see her crying in Sage’s arms, begging his forgiveness. Sage would be craving a woman by now. It would be easy for him to cave in to the voluptuous woman he’d loved for years and who’d once been his wife.

  Maggie stood and looked at herself in a broken, spotted mirror. There she stood, all hundred and ten pounds—or whatever she weighed—her waistline growing, her face bruised and plain, her freckles showing, her feet bare, her fingernails needing a good filing. She was a used and abused woman carrying a bastard child. How could what she saw in the mirror compare to someone like Joanna? It was a lost cause.

  Even though it was still light out, she walked to the bed and got under the blankets, then cried herself to sleep.

  Forty-nine

  Sage sat down in one of his big stuffed chairs near an unlit fireplace, watching Joanna clean off the table at the kitchen end of the great room. She’d cried in his arms and seemed truly repentant, sincere about wanting to try their marriage again. She’d cooked a roast and baked a pie yesterday, and she’d warmed both for him this evening, carrying on about how every day for the last week she’d watched for his return, sure it had to be soon. That was why she made sure there was a good meal ready every night.

  “The men and I were getting worried because you were gone so long,” she’d explained over their meal. “We were really beginning to wonder if you’d make it back at all, and all I could think of was how awful it would be if I never saw you again.”

  Sage ate a little, but only enough to be polite. His appetite was gone. He had too much to think about. The last thing he wanted was to come back and find Joanna here, nesting in the house. She had no right.

  One thing he’d learned their first time around was not to fall for her pathetic crying and pleading. She was damn good at it. He thought how, after all the things Maggie went through, he couldn’t remember her carrying on like that even once. Still, what was unusual this time was that Joanna had waited several weeks by herself. Apparently, she’d even cooked a time or two for the men, or so she claimed. That was something she never did the first time around. All she did was complain about their raw, unkempt condition.

  It would be easier to concentrate on Joanna, whatever it was she wanted, if he could stop the memory of watching Maggie ride off alone to that cabin. It tore at his heart to imagine her riding away from Paradise Valley forever. After knowing Maggie, everything he’d admired about Joanna didn’t seem important anymore. Yes, she was beautiful, and her curves felt good in a man’s arms. But she couldn’t shoot an old Sharps rifle, wouldn’t dream of wearing pants or riding a horse like a man. She would never consider killing a chicken and plucking it, or spending weeks on the trail sleeping on the cold ground. She hated the smell of cattle dung and never did want to learn anyth
ing about ranching and the chores involved.

  So far, all she’d talked about after he let her cry in his arms was how much she still loved him, how once she was away from him she realized how much she needed him, his friendship, and his strength. She talked about her trip here, all the things she’d done to the house while waiting, and how worried she’d been when she learned the reason for his trip.

  He rolled and lit a cigarette. “Joanna, quit busying yourself, and come sit down,” he told her, wanting to get to the truth and get it over. He didn’t believe a word that came out of her mouth. How could he consider getting back together with a woman who’d used him the way Joanna had?

  Then again, Maggie had lied to him too. But that was different. It wasn’t a lie to get money, and he honestly believed Maggie’s love for him was unchanged—it was her love that made her afraid to tell him about the baby.

  He watched Joanna walk across the room, and he could not help being struck by her physical perfection. What man wouldn’t notice? As he watched Joanna sit down, he thought how attracted he’d become to a wisp of a woman with small breasts and freckles and red hair that was never in place like Joanna’s. He’d grown to love looking into green eyes that matched the prairie grass, and he liked the thought of a wife who would often ride beside him on roundups, probably even cattle drives. Joanna could never do those things and wouldn’t even try if he asked.

  The sun was beginning to settle behind the western range, and Joanna took a moment to light a lantern on the small table next to her chair. She turned and smiled a fetching smile, came closer, and started to sit on Sage’s lap.

  “Sage, I want so much to feel your arms around me again.”

  Sage grasped her about the waist and lifted her away. “Sit in the other chair. It’s time to talk, Joanna… really talk.”

  She looked surprised, and her eyes teared again. She moved to the other stuffed chair and sat on the edge, as though she might soil something, or mess up her hair, if she sat all the way into it and leaned back. She waited quietly as Sage studied her intently, thinking how stiff and defensive she looked.