Blue Sage (Anne Stuart's Greatest Hits Book 3)

by Anne Stuart

  “I’m intending to be long gone,” she said, stifling the irritation Tanner always managed to call forth. She was getting used to that annoyance, getting almost to like it. At least it proved that she was alive. “I don’t work because this is a very poor town. Any job I took would be taking food away from some family who needs it.”

  “Did you go to college?”

  “For a semester. The traveling got to be too much. I went to a branch of the University of Montana in Bozeman, and the drive was more than two hundred miles each way. My leg couldn’t take it.”

  “You could have stayed there—come home during vacations.”

  “The Judge didn’t think it wise for me to be gone so long.”

  “You could have driven an automatic, like the monstrosity you own now.”

  “The Judge preferred manual transmissions back then,” she said calmly.

  “Back when he still wanted to own you.”

  “He always wanted to own me,” Ellie said, surprising herself. The words were out, it was too late to call them back, and she might as well continue. “He just grew surer of me as time went on. Sure enough to buy an automatic transmission, at least.”

  Tanner nodded. If he was startled by her sudden openness he didn’t show it. There was a speculative look in the back of his eyes, a curiosity he hadn’t yet put into words. Ellie could only hope he’d continue to be circumspect. She neither wanted to answer that question nor lie.

  To her relief Tanner changed the subject. “It’s hard to believe Morey’s Falls is just a couple of miles away,” he said, looking around him with dreamy approval. They’d reached the edge of the meadow, and the beauty of it drifted into their senses. “It sure would be nice to forget it existed.”

  Ellie made a noncommittal sound of agreement. It was even warmer than it had been two days earlier, and the wildflowers dotting the field were nodding in the soft breeze. The sky—the famed big sky of Montana—was cloudless, and the jagged peaks of the mountains surrounded them like a fairy ring. “We can stop and eat over by the waterfall,” she said. “There’s a pool of water there for the horses.”

  “All right.” He was watching her, that mischievous, speculative expression on his face. “You mind if I take off my shirt? It’s hot today.”

  She wanted to blush, to laugh, but managed to keep a calm, unruffled demeanor. “Go right ahead. Just don’t expect me to do the same this time.”

  “Why not? There’s no one around to look, and I’ve already seen it,” he taunted lightly.

  “Not up close, you haven’t,” she countered in a sober voice. “If you did, I’d never get rid of you.”

  He threw back his head and laughed out loud, and the sound was wonderful on the soft summer air. Shaitan whickered nervously, but Ellie had him in perfect control. She grinned back at Tanner, fighting the sudden knot of sorrow that had tightened in her throat. It was such a beautiful day, a beautiful place, a beautiful time. Tanner was beautiful, too, with amusement dancing in his blue eyes and his thin, sexy mouth lit with a grin. And Ellie would have loved for life to have stayed that way, just a little while.

  He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt. “Maybe I’m running the same risk,” he said.

  “You strike me as a man who takes risks,” she said.

  “And you strike me as a woman who doesn’t.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  He looked taken aback for a moment. He shrugged out of the shirt, tying it around his waist, and his dark skin glowed in the bright sunlight. It wasn’t the tan of beaches or sunlamps; it was the color of a man who worked long hours outside in the sun. His rough, callused hands and the long, corded muscles in his arms and chest attested to that. “So you are,” he said finally, and his tone was cool. “I’ll race you to the pool.” And before she had time to gather her bemused wits he’d taken off across the field.

  Shaitan was the faster horse, but Tanner had the head start. He was already loosening Hoover’s saddle when she reined in. She slid off the stallion’s back and busied herself with the girth strap, all the time aware of him behind her. “Don’t come any closer,” she warned. “Shaitan won’t like it.”

  Tanner stayed where he was. She didn’t have to turn to know the expression on his face. It would be calm, patient and slightly predatory. He could afford to wait. For a moment Ellie rested her head against Shaitan’s warm, black side, accepting his strength and comfort. And then she turned to face Tanner.

  She didn’t know what she’d expected, she thought several hours later as they rode back down the narrow trail. Some sort of pass, perhaps. Maybe a full-fledged seduction attempt that would have been difficult, perhaps impossible to fight off. At least some sort of verbal come-on.

  But once more Tanner had confounded her. He hadn’t so much as touched her, when part of her was longing to be touched. He’d smiled sweetly enough, and occasionally his cold blue eyes would smile, too. He’d drawn her out, in subtle ways she’d recognized only afterward, so that he knew her far better than she knew him. She told him of herself, he told her of things.

  One of those things was the horse ranch, high up in the Sangre de Cristo mountains, where the sky was almost as big and blue as it was in Montana, where the pinion pines grew scrubby and the land rolled in a warm red color. He told her about the horses, about Orfeo and Hammer and Magda and Gypsy, of the foals with their long, spindly legs and the yearlings with their incredible grace. He told her of the rambling adobe ranch house and the people who lived there, of Melora and Red and Jimmy and Rafael. And he’d told her of Alfred, and for the first time Ellie heard love in his voice.

  She hadn’t wanted to go back, so of course she’d been the one to suggest it. Tanner had agreed readily enough, so readily that paranoia began to mount in the back of her brain. It was a new and evil emotion, one she had no experience in fighting, and as they rode down the mountain she toyed with it, prodding herself with little jabs of self-inflicted torture.

  He’d been turned off by the scars. Well, of course he had. She’d shown him on purpose, to try to force a little compassion from him. And he’d been horrified, for all he tried to hide it.

  He’d kissed her the night before, kissed her as no one had ever kissed her in all her life. Given the perfect opportunity to follow up on that kiss, he’d made no move at all.

  Maybe her obvious lack of experience had turned him off. Combine that with the scars and maybe he’d thought better of his pursuit. Maybe she’d misunderstood that pursuit; perhaps it had only been a reflex. The man was a tease, there was no question of that. Every woman who met him melted a little bit under those seductive eyes and that practiced smile. Because no one had ever dared flirt with her before, she’d probably just overreacted.

  Ginger had left early the previous evening. Had she gone out to the cabin and assuaged Tanner’s loneliness? It would be just the sort of thing Ginger would do, but if so, why would Tanner have showed up so early that morning? And wouldn’t she have been able to tell?

  She was getting neurotic in her old age. So Tanner had kissed her. Just because a man kissed her didn’t mean he wanted her. If Ginger had told him about her abortive love life, then he was simply being kind—

  “What are you torturing yourself about?” he drawled, coming up beside her as the path widened once more.

  She blushed again. “Just thinking.”

  “Well, whatever it is you’re thinking about, stop it. It’s got to be something unpleasant.”

  She sighed. “It’s not that easy.”

  “No, I suppose it isn’t,” Tanner said, looking straight ahead.

  Maude’s ranch was already in sight, their time together was ending, and frustration and despair raced around in Ellie’s heart. She wanted to reach out and put her hand on Tanner’s, wanted to pluck at the sleeve of his recently donned shirt. She wanted to turn in the saddle and ask him to ride away with her, back up to the meadow, across the mountains and never come back again.

  “It’s
late,” she said instead. “And we’ve wasted the day.”

  “Have we?”

  “We didn’t get any further on your quest. You don’t know anything more about this town and who the people are,” she pointed out.

  “I know more about you. That’s something.”

  She opened her mouth to refute his claim, then shut it again. She was being gloomy and emotional. She needed a good dose of sensible Maude to cheer her up.

  Maude was waiting on the porch. “Doc’s been trying to find you,” she called out as soon as they were within hearing distance. “You’d best come in here and call him as soon as you can.”

  The knot in her chest tightened further. Without a word she dismounted, leading Shaitan into his stall in the cool, dark stable and loosening his girth. She shut the door behind him and raced across the yard, feeling that doom was lurking over her head like a thundercloud. Weren’t things bad enough today, with the dead animals? What could Doc want?

  * * * * *

  Tanner watched her run. She managed pretty well without the cane. Before he left he was going to break the damned thing. All it did was remind her that she needed it. If she weren’t reminded, she wouldn’t need it—another simple equation.

  He worked swiftly, efficiently, unsaddling Hoover, giving him a small drink of water and brushing the sweat from his coat. Shaitan was standing in his stall, deceptively docile, awaiting his beloved mistress. Tanner could see the sweat staining his beautiful black coat.

  “Sorry, old boy,” he said softly, and Shaitan’s ears went back in alarm. “Your mistress would cut my heart out if I touched you.”

  Shaitan snorted, a derisive sort of sound, and Tanner gave Hoover one last affectionate pat on the rump before leaving the stall. He stood outside Shaitan’s box, staring at the beautiful stallion, and a frown creased his face. “What would you do, boy?” he murmured in a low, beguiling voice that had magicked more than one restive stallion. “Would you take those nasty hooves of yours and try to trample me? I’m an old hand at dodging hooves. I bet you couldn’t do it.”

  Shaitan’s ears had lifted slightly, but his eyes were still threatening. “Of course,” Tanner continued softly, “you’ve still got that nasty-tasting bridle in your mouth. And even if your mistress loosened your girth, that saddle must be hot and heavy. I could take that blanket off you and brush you down, and you’d feel wonderful. Besides, what have I got to lose? I think she’s already cut my heart out.” It was a low, seductive litany, and as always it was working. He opened the stall door and slipped in beside the stallion. Shaitan shied nervously for a moment, and his ears went back, but Tanner just continued his soft, soothing croon.

  If they weren’t exactly friends when he finished, they were at least tolerant of each other. He stepped out of the stall, carrying the leathers and saddle with him, and shut the door behind him. “We’ll put you out to pasture later, old boy. In the meantime...”

  “In the meantime,” said Ellie, her voice as cold as ice, “you can tell me what the hell you were doing with my horse.”

  * * *

  Chapter Twelve

  * * *

  There was nothing he could say. He just stood there, watching her, his face blank, the saddle and bridle unnoticed burdens in his arms.

  She was quivering with rage, a rage he couldn’t begin to understand. Her face was pinched and white, her mouth a slash of pain, and he could tell that she was controlling herself with an effort.

  “I told you not to touch Shaitan,” she said, her voice low, hurried, furious. “I told you to keep your hands off him. He’s had a hard time and he doesn’t like strangers messing with him. He needs to be left alone.”

  “Are you talking about your horse,” he interrupted coolly, “or yourself?”

  It was a good thing her hands were empty. If she’d been carrying her cane she would have gone for him, he knew it as surely as he knew his own name. But she wouldn’t hit him with her hands; she didn’t want to touch him. Instead she turned and ran, her limp barely noticeable, to her car. He stood in the doorway of the barn, watching as she wheeled out of the yard and tore off down the narrow driveway at top speed. She skidded as she pulled onto the main road, nearly losing control, but at the last minute the car responded, and he watched her race off down the highway.

  Maude was waiting for him when he finished soaping the leathers and walked back out into the late-afternoon shadows. “You look like a man who could use a drink” was all she said.

  He smiled at her. “You’re an observant woman, Maude,” he said. “Anything short of turpentine will do.”

  “Maybe a cup of hemlock?” She was mounting the shallow steps of her front porch.

  “I don’t feel that guilty. Ellie needs some shaking up every now and then,” he said.

  “I don’t believe you.” She headed straight for one of the cupboards and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. “Not about Ellie needing shaking up. Any fool would know that. But I think you’re feeling guilty as hell.” She poured a generous splash into two glasses and turned to face him, her beady little eyes knowing. “Water or ice?”

  “I like my hemlock straight.” He took the glass and perched on one of the stools. “Think she’ll be back?”

  “It depends on what you did. If you made a pass at her she’ll forgive you. If you insulted her it’ll be over in a few minutes and she’ll be turning right around. If you were nasty she’ll be back even sooner.”

  “I groomed Shaitan for her.”

  “She won’t be back,” Maude said flatly. “The girl’s not exactly sensible when it comes to that animal. I don’t know why, and I don’t get anywhere when I ask. When she brought him here he was a real mess, scarred and bleeding. He’d savaged his owner and they were going to put him down when Ellie interfered. That’s Ellie for you, always going for the underdog.”

  Underdogs like me, Tanner thought savagely, taking a deep, burning gulp of the whiskey. Another of her charity cases. “You’d think she’d be grateful I took care of him if she loves him so much.”

  “Nope,” Maude said. “She’s been convinced that no one could touch Shaitan, even be around him without being hurt. You just wrecked that belief.”

  Tanner shook his head. “Sometimes we have to learn things we’d rather not,” he said woodenly.

  “And Ellie has. She’ll keep on, too. But it’ll take her some time to get over this one.” Maude drained her whiskey. “You want me to find you a ride back to your place? I don’t drive, but I could give Jamie a call. Or you could take my old car. I’m sure it still runs.”

  “I can walk. I think I’d prefer to. I need some time to think. But I appreciate the offer and the hospitality, Maude.” He smiled at his hostess, noticing with surprise the sudden dampness around her eyes. What the hell would Maude have to cry about?

  “Tanner,” she began, her voice low and hurried, “I need to tell you something.”

  He braced himself for something unpleasant, but the revelation never came. They both heard the sound of the car pull up in front of the house, and Maude’s dark eyes widened with surprise.

  Tanner kept the satisfaction from showing on his face as he waited for Ellie to walk in and apologize. He’d accept it graciously; he wouldn’t even tease her. He leaned back, feeling expansive, and then sat back up. He smelled the scent of musk moments before the door opened, and his face was impassive, hiding the twist of something deeper than disappointment in his gut.

  Ginger Barlow was the last person he wanted to see. Maude didn’t look too welcoming, either. Ginger was as out of place in Maude’s homey kitchen as a peacock at a barbecue. Her blond hair tumbled in heavy curls over her shoulder, she was wearing tight white jeans and a hot-pink jersey that clung to her impressive breasts, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her pink lips were wreathed in a smile of welcome, and her eyes were on the make.

  More than one woman had told him he had bedroom eyes. He looked at Ginger Barlow sashaying up to him and knew for sure that sh
e had the female equivalent.

  “Hi, there,” she said, her voice soft and breathy.

  “What are you doing here?” Maude demanded, making no move to offer her a drink.

  Ginger didn’t look affronted, clearly used to Maude’s rudeness. “I just passed Ellie a few miles back, driving hell-for-leather into town, and I thought I’d come out and see what had her in tears.”

  “Tears?” Tanner echoed, the twist of pain tightening.

  “Yup,” Ginger said cheerfully. “And Ellie doesn’t cry much. What’d you do to her?”

  “Does your daddy know you’re parading around dressed like that?” Maude interrupted. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

  “My daddy saw me walk out the door, Maude, and he didn’t say a word. Why don’t you call him up and commiserate with him on my shameless behavior while I give Tanner a ride home?”

  “Tanner doesn’t want a ride home,” Maude said fiercely. “He wants to walk.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed,” Ginger said sweetly, “there’s a storm coming, and the Tanner ranch is more than ten miles from here.”

  “He’s walked in the rain before.” Maude’s voice was stubborn.

  Tanner had had enough of this. Right now he wanted to be home, alone, and the fastest way to get there was to take a ride with Ginger. He had no doubts about his ability to get rid of her. He just had to make sure that that was what he wanted to do. He’d be a fool not to take what she was offering so blatantly, but then, sometimes that was exactly what he was.

  “I’d appreciate a ride,” he said, his voice lazy.

  “But what if Ellie comes back?” Maude protested.

  “Then you can tell her I found another ride,” Tanner said. He looked over at Ginger, positively quivering with eagerness. “You ready?”