Forever, Victoria

by Dorothy Garlock

  She looked at him as if for the first time and took in the crispness of his dark curly hair, his straight brows, the clean line of his nose. His mouth was wide and not used to smiling, his eyes deep and private. Nellie could never remember being this close to a man before. She had never studied her brother’s faces like she was studying this man’s. She felt an almost irrepressible urge to cup his face in her two hands and beg him not to be sad. His deep eyes told her he had not had much in his life to smile about.

  “Why would they object?” she asked with more spirit than she had had before. His slight smile raised goosebumps on her arms.

  “They might not think I’m fit company for you.”

  “Are you?” Nellie surprised herself with the question.

  “No man is,” he said softly. “No doubt they think I’m an outlaw and a drifter.”

  “Are you?” she asked again.

  “Drifter, yes. Outlaw, no. I’ve not had a price on my head.”

  “Somehow I didn’t think you had.” She looked away from him, suddenly bashful.

  “Will you come talk to me again?” He waited expectantly for her answer, hoping the question had not been too bold.

  “Well…” Their eyes locked, and she couldn’t resist letting the elation show in her face. “Why do you want me to?” Oh, what a foolish thing to say! she agonized. He’ll think I’m fishing for compliments!

  He watched the play of expressions on her sensitive face and it made his heart thump wildly.

  “Because I’ve been looking for you all my life.” His voice held more feeling than she had ever heard in a voice before.

  “Sage…” She turned her hand upward till their palms touched. Rough, hard fingers interlaced with hers, squeezing almost painfully.

  “Say my name again. Please, Nellie.”

  It was an effort for her to breathe. “Sage. Sage.” She felt the urge to say it again and did. “Sage.”

  The sound of his name on her lips was like a wondrous gift. His eyes lit up, then half closed as the lines in his face shifted. A smile broke across his face and a bubble of happiness burst in Nellie’s heart. He was on his feet, pulling her to hers. She had to tilt her head back so she could look at him. His hands had slid up her forearms to grip her elbows. Nellie was not sure why, but later she remembered she had staggered when she got to her feet.

  “Hello, Nellie Mahaffey,” he whispered.

  “Hello, Sage…”

  “Harrington.”

  “Harrington.” She felt a ripple of unalloyed joy pass through her. This intimacy with this man she had just met, but had known forever, was the most poignant moment of her life.

  “How old are you?” he asked quietly.

  “Eighteen.”

  “You seem older.”

  She was silent, gazing up at him with wide, incredulous eyes. What had just happened between them was the last thing she had expected.

  Because she did not speak he added, “I’m twenty-five.”

  “I’d better go. Ruby…” Nellie moved toward the door and he continued to hold on to her arm until they left the house. When he took his hand from her elbow she wished it were back there, warm, supportive.

  He stayed beside her until they reached the house and Ruby and Dora came out onto the porch as if they had been waiting for them.

  “Thank you,” Nellie muttered when Sage turned to leave her. She was torn by the desire to stay and watch him cross the yard on his way back to the bunkhouse, but she continued on to the porch. Just before she reached it she allowed herself one brief glance, met his eyes, then went through the doorway and into the house.

  In her room, Nellie lay down on the bed. She was tired, her face stung, her lips were sore and puffed and her hair hung in tangles, yet she felt breathless and enchanted. It was tempting to think about being carried in Sage’s arms, and the warm clasp of his hand. The idea came to her that to be the wife of such a man, to be allowed to soothe the hurt lines of his face, to feel his strong arms about her, to know his embraces at night, to bear his children, to love him, would be all the heaven she would want. Oh!She flushed violently, and put her hand to her face. Nellie Mahaffey, you’re losing your mind! You’ve only just met him!

  In spite of the severe scolding she gave herself, Nellie lay on the bed and daydreamed until she heard the screen door slam and Dora came bursting into the room.

  “Nellie! Nellie! Come quick. Pete and Clay is bringin’ in Mr. Stonewall and Ruby is yellin’ ’n’ cryin’.”

  Nellie sat up so fast she had to wait a second until her head stopped spinning. “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s all bloody. And his face is awful!”

  Dora wanted to go to Ruby’s, but Nellie held her in check. They waited beside the rail fence while Pete and Clay, with Sage’s help, got Stonewall off the horse where Clay had been holding him, and carried him into the house.

  Pete came across the yard and Dora bombarded him with questions. “What’s the matter with him? Is he dead? Why is his head all full of blood?”

  Nellie asked one of her own. “Do you think I should go and see if I can help?”

  “No. Clay can handle it. He and Sage will do whatever can be done. Someone almost beat the life out of him. Me ’n’ Clay found him. Had a hell of a time gettin’ him on the horse. God, I hope he makes it. I ain’t never seen anybody so beat up.”

  “Nellie got beat, too. Her mouth got busted, but her drawers is all right.”

  “Dora! Oh, Dora, won’t you ever learn to keep your mouth shut?”

  Pete’s sharp eyes caught the bright flush on Nellie’s cheeks as well as her swollen mouth. “What…? What the hell happened here?”

  It took a lot of telling with Dora’s interruptions, but when it was over, Pete shook his head in disbelief.

  “Gawd! Somethin’s happenin’ here all the time.”

  But the day wasn’t over yet. An hour before darkness, Jim Lyster rode in leading Mason’s horse.

  CHAPTER

  * 10 *

  When Victoria awakened, evening was approaching once again. Through the window she could see that almost all the light had gone from the sky. It was the golden time of day that she loved. She pulled the quilt up to her chin and burrowed her face into the soft pillow. It was pure heaven to feel so rested and cared for. She had been surprised by the kindness and concern of the Mahaffeys. It had made her realize that she was becoming fond of them! A phenomenon she was too comfortable to question at the moment.

  Nellie came through the door and stood beside the bed. She reached down and tucked her quilt around her shoulders.

  “Do you feel better?”

  “Yes, thank you. But I’m starving.”

  “Good. I’ll bring you a bowl of stew.” She giggled. “It was a joint effort—mine and Doonie’s. He must have done all the cooking for the old man he was with, ’cause he’s a pretty good cook.”

  Victoria smiled. “To tell you the truth, I’ll eat anything as long as it’s not moving, I’m that hungry.”

  “Then I’d better go rescue some of it before Mason licks the pot.”

  “Didn’t he sleep? What about his arm?”

  “He slept a few hours. He’s already been out to see Stonewall. Every time I mention his arm he says, ‘Don’t fuss.’ Ruby says he’s as stubborn as a jackass and I think she’s right!”

  Victoria threw back the quilt and swung her feet to the floor. She winced and almost cried out from the sharp pain when she moved her leg. Ruby had dressed the wound and bound it with strips of clean white cloth and while she lay in the bed she suffered only a dull throb. The sudden movement had been so painful she now sat trembling on the side of the bed.

  Mason spoke from the doorway. “You better stay in bed.” His eyes took in every detail of her appearance—flannel nightgown, blond hair tumbled down and about her shoulders, bare feet on the woven rug beside the bed. His stare made the color flood her face, all except her white lips, which parted and whisp
ered a mild oath before she spoke.

  “My room is as busy as the lobby at the Overland! Don’t you ever knock before you enter?” Her body tensed as she tried to stop its trembling. Her eyes flicked around the room restlessly, not touching on Mason, whose presence seemed to fill every corner, even the ones in her mind. Why did he have to come in just now when she felt so weak, so weepy?

  He moved up beside the bed, dwarfing Nellie. “I think you’d better feed her before she bites us, honey,” he said to his sister.

  “Well, you should have knocked.” Nellie stood with her hands on her hips. “We could have been…undressing or something.”

  Mason looked down at Nellie with mock sternness. “So you’re choosing up sides, are you?”

  “Right is right, Mason, and you know it. Victoria, I’ll get you some stew if this big lout hasn’t eaten it all.” She flounced out of the room before Victoria could find an excuse for her to stay.

  His eyes mocked her. “Some of that independence of yours is rubbing off on my little sister,” he drawled.

  “It’s time Nellie got some starch in her backbone. She’ll need plenty of it if she’s going to live with her brothers,” she snapped and pulled the quilt up to her chin.

  He sat down on the side of the bed and for the first time she noticed that he held his injured arm snug against his side. With his good arm he reached up and let his fingers sweep through the loose shimmering hair that hung over her shoulder.

  She jerked her head around to face him. “Don’t! And you shouldn’t be in here with me…like this!”

  “Why not? I want to be here and you want me here.”

  “I do not. You’ve got a lot of gall to say such a thing just because—”

  “Your mouth is too pretty to be spitting out lies,” he interrupted, grinning.

  Her face turned pale and their eyes locked in silent combat. “You’re the most irritating man I’ve ever met.”

  “And you’re the prettiest woman I ever met.”

  “Stop that, Mason!” His laugh broke off in a grimace of pain and he turned his face away. “Serves you right,” Victoria said crossly, but her eyes were full of concern. “You’re full of advice for others, but you never take any of it yourself. You should be in bed.”

  The blue eyes held a suggestive gleam that sent a shiver down her spine. “Yours?”

  She felt the heat come up from her neck to cover her face. What was he trying to do? He was almost sure of getting everything he wanted. There was no need to flirt with her. She owed him a debt of gratitude for saving her life, but that was all. She put her hand to her breast as if to press her heart into obedience. She didn’t want to love him. She didn’t even want to like him. She didn’t want to be hobbled to him or his family by the strength of her feelings.

  “Don’t look so panic-stricken. I’m not going to get in bed with you…now.” His voice teased her.

  “You think I’m that kind of woman because of what—?”

  “No!” He grimaced again. “Don’t make me laugh, dear heart. It hurts too much.”

  Dear heart! Oh, for crying out loud? What does he think he’s doing? “Serves you right!” He had her so flustered she was repeating herself.

  Nellie came in carrying something that smelled delicious. If she thought there was anything unusual about her brother sitting on the bed with a woman clad in her nightdress she didn’t show any signs of it.

  “Doonie helped make the stew then ran off to help Gopher. Dora can’t stay away from Ruby. So there’s plenty. More for you if you want it, Mason.”

  Victoria watched Nellie move about the room. She had become a different person the last few days. When Pete carried Victoria into the house this morning, Nellie had taken charge, shooing the men out. She had undressed her, got her into the bed and washed her while they waited for Ruby to come and tend to her leg. Victoria hadn’t had such tender care since her mother died and she had cried and cried, blaming her tears on her own weakness.

  “I just might have some later,” Mason was saying. “But for now I’ll stay here and make sure Victoria gets something in her stomach. Then maybe she won’t be as cross as a one-eyed steer.”

  Victoria let his words wash over her. He was goading her, but she was determined not to rise to the bait. However, Nellie had no such qualms.

  “That wasn’t at all nice, Mason. Victoria’s got a right to be cross after what all she’s been through. Don’t pay him any mind, Victoria.” She hooked a stool with her foot, drew it forward and placed the tray on it. “Eat as much as you can and after a good night’s sleep you’ll feel much better.” She wiped the perspiration from her brow with her sleeve. “I’ve got cornbread in the stove. I’ll bring you some and a glass of milk.”

  “Thank you, Nellie. But you don’t have to wait on me.”

  “I want to, Victoria. Besides, I think you’d do the same for me.” She stood small and poised, but her hand reached out to the doorframe for support.

  “Don’t overdo, Nellie,” Victoria cautioned. “I know you’ve been sick.”

  “I won’t. I’ll round up the boys and Dora to help me. If you hear a loud noise you’ll know it’s Pete and Clay complaining. I doubt if I can catch Dora and Doonie.” Her eyes sparkled and she tossed her head.

  “Thank you,” Mason murmured when they were alone.

  “For what?” The question was in Victoria’s eyes.

  “For being friends with Nellie. It’s been a long time since she’s had one.”

  “Well”—Victoria wanted to say something snappy but couldn’t—”well, I like her. It’s impossible not to like her,” she admitted grudgingly.

  “Eat your stew. We’ve got things to talk about.”

  Hunger forced her attention to the meal in front of her. She had been too tired to eat more than a few mouthfuls before she fell asleep this morning, and her stomach was protesting loudly the fact it had been neglected for almost forty-eight hours. She wished Mason weren’t sitting there looking at her and said so.

  “I like to look at you. Go ahead and eat.” He grinned at her groan of irritation.

  “You make me nervous! I’m not used to having people in my room. Oh, I wish you’d never come here!” she said heatedly.

  “You’ll get over it. In a few weeks you’ll wonder how you ever lived without me.” He rubbed the back of his fingers across her cheek. “We’ll discuss that later. Right now I want you to eat.”

  Victoria wanted to jerk away, but pride forced her to pretend his touch didn’t bother her. She remained perfectly still, although her heart pounded like a scared rabbit’s, and she kept her eyes averted. She was immensely relieved when he got up and went around the foot of the bed to stand at the window. She attacked the bowl of stew with gusto. Nellie came in with cornbread and milk, but left quickly after saying something about bringing back her lamp. Victoria hadn’t noticed it was missing from the stand beside her bed.

  Nellie returned carrying the lamp, its chimney sparkling, its light chasing the shadows from every corner of the room. She placed it on the table, peeked into the empty bowl on the tray, and leaned close to whisper in Victoria’s ear.

  “If you need to use the slop jar, I’ll find an excuse to get him out of here.”