Mary did not argue. The ordeal of losing hours of sleep while taking care of James, combined with the hardships of the journey, had left its mark. She was thinner, and she seemed to get tired so easily. She crawled into the wagon and lay down beside James, who lay sleeping with puckered lips, his curly hair damp with sweat. The day had grown hot. She snuggled down next to James and was soon asleep.
Mary was not sure how long she slept, or if she had only dreamed the sound, but a familiar laugh woke her. She sat up, frowning, listening to men talking somewhere in the distance. Again she heard the laugh. It seemed ridiculous, but the laugh reminded her of Sage.
She pushed back a piece of hair that dangled out of place, thinking she should re-pin her bun, which had surely fallen into disarray while she slept. She moved to the back of the wagon, picking up her mirror and looking at skin that had darkened from the sun. Her face was plain and dry and much too thin. She wondered what her mother would think if she saw her now.
“She would faint dead away,” she muttered with a sad smile. She buttoned the neck of her dress where she had opened it to be cooler while she slept. She wore a pink checkered dress, little realizing that even in her plain condition, and even though she deliberately wore simple dresses in order to be like all the other women, she still stood out like a flower among thorns, just as Rafe had said she would.
She set down the mirror and tucked up her bun, then climbed out of the wagon, curious about the voices and laughter she had heard. The camp was quiet, for most of the children were still napping and adults were taking advantage of the opportunity to rest. Mary moved outside the circle of wagons to see some of the men from the wagon train standing several yards away, talking to their own scouts and to a tall man in buckskins. She realized it was the same man she had seen earlier. The Indian woman stood quietly nearby, holding the man’s horse, and Mary’s heart began pounding so hard that it hurt.
The horse! It was a big Appaloosa. Her legs felt weak and her head light as she forced herself to walk closer. The man in buckskins was making some kind of deal with the men, shaking hands with them. He turned then, walking with them toward the wagon train. There was the limp again, but as they came closer there was no mistaking who it was.
She quickly turned away, hurrying around to the other side of the wagon. Sage! What was he doing here at Laramie? And why was she suddenly afraid? The Indian woman. Who was the Indian woman? Maybe Sage loved her. Maybe he had not remembered Mary Cousteau the way she always imagined he would. Maybe he would not have wanted her to come! And the limp. Where had he gotten the limp? What had happened to poor Sage since he had left her? An Indian attack? A fight?
Now the voices were close, and they walked past the wagon but on the other side of it. Sage! She wanted to cry out to him but suddenly felt foolish. What on earth would she do if he didn’t still love and want her?
She heard James coughing in his sleep then. James. This was more for James than for herself. Sage MacKenzie had a right to know he had a son. She would find the courage to face him, for James’s sake. But she must be careful. She must not seem too eager, or she could make a fool of herself.
Her heart beat furiously as she hurried around the wagon. They were ahead of her now, walking and talking. They stopped again.
“The pay is fine, Mr. Hughes,” Sage was saying. “I’ll get you there safe and sound. I’ve been all over this land many times.”
So, he was going to scout for their own wagon train! There was no avoiding it now. She had to face him. She just stared at him a moment. He looked wonderful, still strong and solid. Had she really lived with him for nearly a year? Had she really slept with the man she was watching now, shared her body with him intimately? He looked so rugged and wild. It seemed incredible she had shared part of her life with him, and now wanted to share the rest of that life with him, if he would have her.
The men from the wagon train left, and Sage turned and said something to the Indian woman, who nodded, then stood on her toes and kissed him. Mary felt like her heart was being torn from her chest. Of all the things she had been through, this moment seemed to call for more courage than any other decision she had ever made. She stepped a little closer.
“Sage?”
He turned, the smile on his face quickly fading into a look of near shock. He stood staring at her dumbfounded for a moment, and the Indian woman watched her curiously. He limped closer.
“Mary?”
She managed a nervous smile. This time she took the steps. They stood only five or six feet apart now. His eyes moved over her as though he were looking at a ghost, and then with a flood of relief she saw it, in his eyes. The look of surprise quickly turned to one of total love and worship, and quickly his eyes teared. “Mary!” he whispered. He limped a little closer. “Mary, what…what in God’s name are you doing here?”
“I…” Her voice immediately became choked with emotion. Suddenly she felt so tired, so relieved, so in love, so desperate to be held and cared for, protected and loved. “I came west”—she looked down—“looking for you.”
“For me?”
She met his eyes again. There was so much to explain. Where did she begin? He seemed to realize the explaining could wait. She looked ready to pass out. She was thin, so thin, and so tired! What a terrible trip it must have been for her. And for him! She had dared to come into this land to look for him, not even knowing if she would ever find him.
A tear slipped down her cheek, and he hesitantly reached out, taking her arm, whispering her name again. She didn’t care if he didn’t want her anymore, or who the Indian woman was. She only cared that this was Sage, James’s father, the man she had never been able to forget or stop loving. She broke into tears, hugging him around the middle.
“My God!” she heard him mutter. His arms came around her then, strong, sure, warm, wonderful arms. There it was, the smell of buckskins, the wonderful, clean, free, fresh smell she had missed. And the way he held her told her all she needed to know. He was still the same man, the same warm, understanding, protective, gentle man who had loved her just the way she was.
They clung together for several long minutes, saying nothing. What was there to say for the moment? He held her, oh so tight, as though he knew she needed to be held that way, needed his support, needed to know she had done the right thing.
“Rafe and I are divorced,” she finally managed to choke out between tears. “It just…didn’t work. He tried so…hard…and so did I. But it was all just different.”
He kept a tight hold on her. “I was so afraid that would happen, and you’d be all alone. I even checked on you…a couple of years ago…but they said you had moved to St. Louis, and that you were happy. I was with a friend I’d met—fought with him down in Mexico at Chapultepec. We moved on to California.”
She finally leaned back, wiping away tears and looking up at him. “Chapultepec! You fought in Mexico?”
He smoothed back some of the hair from her face. “Took a pretty bad wound in the hip.”
“Oh, Sage!” She began crying all over again, hugging him again. “You were wounded and I couldn’t be with you. You never would have gone down there if it hadn’t been for me.”
“Don’t go blaming yourself.” She hadn’t changed at all! She was still sweet and loving, and the poor little thing looked so tired and thin. Poor Mary. How could this miracle be happening? Mary was right here in his arms, as though she had suddenly just dropped out of the sky. But she hadn’t. She had struggled on a long and lonely journey to find him.
“Actually if not for you, I wouldn’t be such a rich man,” he continued, trying to make her feel better. “My friend and I went on to California and struck gold. But then he got killed in an explosion. I sold the claim and made me a bundle. What do you think of that?”
She pulled away again, taking a handkerchief from the pocket of her dress and blowing her nose and wiping her eyes. “Oh, Sage, that’s wonderful,” she sobbed out. “I’m so glad for you. But I’m
sorry about your friend.” She stepped back a little, looking up at him and managing a smile. “Sage, you look wonderful. I’ve dreamed of coming out here and finding you, but I didn’t expect to find you until we at least reached Fort Bridger. And then when I did see you, I couldn’t believe my eyes. And I got scared that maybe I had done the wrong thing, and you had a whole new life and wouldn’t want me anymore.” She reddened slightly. “Oh, I didn’t mean to put it that way. Maybe you still don’t want me…the way I mean. But I had to come. I had to know.”
He reached out, taking her face between his strong hands. “How could you ever think I wouldn’t still want you? Your memory has eaten away at me for three years, Mary. I tried and tried, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind and my heart. Sometimes I thought I’d go crazy from wanting you.”
She grasped his wide wrists, wondering if she was dreaming when he came closer, his lips meeting hers gently, as though to test her out, to discover if it was all still there, if she still wanted him, too. It took only a second to know, as the kiss lingered. His tongue lightly moved over her lips and his arms came around her again, pulling her close as the kiss deepened. They didn’t care that some people stared and whispered. What did such things matter anymore to them?
He moved his lips to her cheek, her eyes, hugging her close. “My God, Mary,” he groaned. “In my wildest dreams I never thought this could happen. I was so sure I’d never see you again the rest of my life, and here you are, out here in this dangerous country all alone, looking for me. I’ve been so goddamned lonely.”
A woman spoke up behind him in a language Mary had never heard. Sage gently released Mary, turning to Sweet Bird. He kept his arm around Mary, answering the woman in the same tongue. The woman’s eyes widened, and joy spread over her face. She said something more to Sage, then nodded her head to Mary, who nodded back. Mary looked up at Sage. “Who is she? I saw her with you earlier.”
Sage ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking nervous. “Uh, this is Sweet Bird. She’s Sioux.” His face began to redden. “I found her living with the Crow—a captive. She wanted to come back to her people, so I…uh…I traded some tobacco for her.”
“Tobacco!” Mary thought of her own captivity. Her feelings were a mixture of sorrow for the woman’s plight and jealousy. She looked down at the grass. “Sage, maybe I’ve caused problems for you. You don’t have to feel obligated—”
He squeezed her shoulders. “Don’t say that, Mary. This is the happiest day of my entire life. As long as I live I won’t forget this day.” He turned her to face him, holding her arms. “Look, Sweet Bird is just a woman I agreed to return to her people. She’s like a good friend, you know? I mean, she’s not…not special like you. I’m taking her to a Sioux village not far from here later today.”
She fought an urge to cry. “Sage, if you love her I’ll understand. It’s been three years.”
“No. No, I don’t love her like that. I mean…” His face reddened more. “Well, she’s the grateful type, if you know what I mean, but I don’t love her. That’s the way it is with some Indian women. It’s just something they do to pleasure a man, but it’s not like—” He threw up his hands, slapping one on top of his head then and turning away. “Jesus.”
She put a hand on his arm. “Sage, it’s all right. I wouldn’t have expected you to…to stop being a man. After all, I went back to Rafe. You thought we could never be together again.”
He sighed deeply, looking at Sweet Bird and telling her something else in her own tongue. She nodded, looking a little sad. She seemed to ask him something, and he answered. She turned then and left, leading the Appaloosa with her. Mary watched her walk away.
“I’m sorry, Sage,” she said, folding her arms and reddening.
“It’s all right. She’ll be fine once she gets to her people. That’s all she really wants. And that’s the only reason I brought her here. Then I figured I’d maybe get a scouting job, and I did—with this train.” He grasped her arms again. “Now I can watch over you the rest of the way, and when we reach California, we can decide what to do. Maybe we can stay right there. I have money now. I can get into ranching or something. And California is beautiful, Mary. You’d love it, I know you would. The weather is almost always perfect, the sun shines a lot, and it’s so green and beautiful.” He looked over at the wagons. “How did you get here? Somebody must have driven a wagon for you.”
She met his eyes again. “Rafe helped me find a good family back in St. Louis to travel with. Their name is Nelson. They have three wagons and several children, and Mr. Nelson’s widower brother is also along to help drive.” She put her hands against his chest. “Oh, Sage, it’s been a hard trip. So many have died already. We had an outbreak of measles, and my poor little James got them, too. I thought I would lose him. I can take anything except losing my son—” She hesitated, watching his eyes. “Our son.” She swallowed. “He’s yours, Sage, not Rafe’s.”
His eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and joy, then tears came into them again. “Mine?”
“Yes,” she answered, her voice faltering. “I…tried to hide it…tried to make Rafe think James was his, so he would love him. But he was…such a big, strong, healthy baby…no one could believe he was premature.” She smiled with the humor of it, but tears spilled down her cheeks. “What other kind of son…would Sage MacKenzie have…but a big, strong, healthy one?”
His grip on her arms tightened. “I have a child? A son?”
She nodded. “He’s two years old, Sage—almost two and a half. He’s asleep—right in that wagon over there.”
He was speechless. A son. He had a son! Now he knew all his uneasy suspicions had been right. It was his child!
“His name is James,” she was saying. “And he’s beautiful, Sage. His skin is golden from being in the sun so much on this trip. His hair is a sandy color, but it’s getting darker, and he has your dark eyes. He’s such a good little boy. He hardly ever cries. Even when he was sick he was good.”
He let go of her, quickly wiping away his eyes. “He’s all right? The measles didn’t leave him blind or scarred?”
“No. He’s fine. He lost a little weight, but he’ll be all right. Come and see him.”
She took his hand and he followed her to the wagon, where James was already stirring and sitting up, rubbing his eyes. “Mommy,” he squeaked.
“I’m right here, James.” She climbed up on an iron step, leaning over the wagon gate and reaching for him. Sage grasped her about the waist for support, helping her down as she took James into her arms. She turned with the boy, who stared at Sage with big brown eyes.
“James, this man is called Sage,” she told the boy carefully. She looked at Sage. “I think he should get more used to you before I try to tell him who you really are,” she told a speechless Sage. “He’s still so little. It’s hard to explain these things. But at least he’s young enough to grow up knowing you as his father. That is, if you want us, as a family.”
Sage reached out and touched the boy’s head, hesitantly petting his hair. James flashed a bright smile, showing a row of tiny, white teeth. Sage made an odd gasping sound, then turned around and clung to the wagon gate, breathing deeply for control.
“Want you?” he finally choked out. He hung his head. “I don’t know why the Good Lord is being so good to me all of a sudden, but I’m not gonna argue about it.” He rubbed the sleeve of his buckskin shirt over his eyes, then turned to face her. “Would he…let me hold him?”
She patted the boy’s back. “I think so. The last thing he is is bashful.”
Sage reached out hesitantly, and James grinned again, letting the man take him from his mother. The boy twisted his fingers curiously into Sage’s beard and giggled. Sage looked at Mary, holding the boy closer. “Somehow I knew—when I heard you had had a baby. It bothered me so much, Mary, wondering about both of you, wondering if I should go to St. Louis and make sure you were all right.” He smiled through tears. “There’s so much to t
alk about, Mary. It’s been three years. But all I can think about is whether there’s a preacher on this wagon train so he can marry us.”
Her heart swelled with love, but she reddened. “Right away? Today?”
He sniffed, laughing lightly, wiping away more tears. “I can’t think of one good reason why not. Can you? I’m sorry about your divorce, Mary. I truly am. But I can’t help admitting that I’m selfishly glad in some ways. You’re free now, free to be mine, and I don’t aim to let anything keep that from happening again.”
She felt her cheeks going crimson, felt suddenly nervous and flushed. It had been three years. They would have to get used to each other all over again.
Sage shuffled James to rest in one arm while with the other hand he reached out and touched her face. “Mary. I just want to make it legal right away—to know this is real and I’m not just dreaming. I want to make you my wife before somehow you get away from me again. But I know it’s been a while. I wouldn’t expect everything right away. I know what you’ve been through, and how plumb worn out you are.”
She met his eyes, her own showing their gratefulness. Oh, yes, she wanted him desperately. And yet it had been so long. “You know me better, Mary,” he told her then. “Just be my wife—right now, today. I’ll die before I ever let you get away from me again.”
She broke into tears, hugging him.
“I’ll get Sweet Bird to her people, then come back and clean up. That will give you some time to get ready yourself,” he told her. “We’ll do it this evening, and have us a little celebration with the rest of the people on the train. Let them all think what they want. Out here in this land people do some mighty strange things sometimes, Mary. The rules are all different and nobody cares. Tonight we’ll be married, and Sage MacKenzie will go to sleep with both his wife and his son in his arms. I don’t need anything more than that for now, Mary.”
He stood there embracing both of them, while James toyed with his beard. The rest of a long journey and many dangers stretched before them, including two mountain ranges to be conquered before they could reach their destination. But the dangers and physical obstacles meant nothing to Sage and Mary MacKenzie. They had already suffered more than most people ever had to suffer in a lifetime, and they had survived.
Sweet Mountain Magic Page 46
