Rosanne Bittner

by Paradise Valley

  Maggie nodded in return. “Thank you for watching the horses.”

  “Well, ma’am, I don’t cotton to anybody stealin’ a man’s wife. Looks like you’ve been sore-treated. Sorry about that.” He turned his attention to Sage again. “Yates still up there?”

  Sage tightened the cinch on one of the extra horses. “He stayed to do some trading. He and the others didn’t get hurt. I’m glad of that.”

  “The men you went after… are they dead?”

  Sage nodded. “The one I wanted most should have bled to death by now.” He turned to the man beside him and put out his hand. “Thanks.”

  The man shook his hand. “Anybody gives you trouble on the way back, just mention Bob Yates, and tell them what happened to Kate. They’ll leave you be.” He grinned. “Not that you can’t handle yourself. I’ve got no doubt that you can.”

  Sage mounted up, and the three rode off, Newell leading the fourth horse. Sage rode beside Maggie. “Can you make about five miles?” he asked her.

  “I think so.”

  “It’s a bit out of the way of the regular trail through the valley, but I know a place not far from here where you can hole up, while I go on to Lander with Newell to check on Kate and get my money out of that bank.”

  Maggie felt panic rising. Did he intend to leave her? Had he already made up his mind? “I don’t want you to leave me again—not out here. And I want to see Kate too.”

  “In Kate’s condition, it won’t matter if you’re there or not. And time is of the essence. If Kate’s dying, I want to get there quick as I can, and the condition you’re in—you’d just slow us down. If Kate is alive, she’ll understand why I left you behind.”

  “But you’re hurt too.”

  “Don’t argue, Maggie. You’ve been to hell and back, and you’re carrying. There is no way I’d make you ride all the way back to Lander yet.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “To a place where an older couple run a rooming house and supply store. They have six grown kids, most of them married now and moved away. The woman, Sarah Becker, is a crusty, seasoned old woman who knows that out here you don’t ask questions, so she won’t press you about the bruises and all. She’ll understand what you need, and she’ll make sure you get a hot bath and a decent bed. You need to sleep—not for a couple of hours, but for a couple of days, maybe longer.” Maggie was too tired to think straight. “You’re going to leave me there and not come back.” She felt the tears coming again.

  Sage halted his horse, and Maggie followed suit. “I’m doing this so you’ll be rested for the ride home, Maggie.”

  Home. Maggie wondered if she dared think of Paradise Valley as home. Newell interrupted her thoughts when he told them he’d head on into Lander.

  “Got to get back to Kate. You go on to the Becker place, Sage. That little gal there is in need of female attention.”

  “I’ll catch up soon as I can,” Sage told him.

  “Newell,” Maggie spoke up. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did, helping Sage and all. You risked your life, and you hardly know either of us.”

  “Don’t need to know you long to realize you’re worth helpin’. Besides, Kate would want me to help, and I wanted those sons of bitches as bad as Sage did after what they did to her.”

  Maggie felt sick at the memory. “I pray she’s alive and will be okay,” Maggie told him. His eyes looked so sad. He gave Sage a nod, pulled his hat farther down on his forehead, and headed south.

  “I feel so sorry for him,” Maggie said softly. She turned her gaze to Sage, who watched Newell for a moment. “Sage, look me in the eyes, and promise you’ll come back and get me.”

  When his dark eyes met hers, she could see not all the rage had left him. She ached for him, his wounds, all the blood—his guilt over what happened to Kate… and to her. “I just risked my life to come for you on top of that mesa,” he told her. “Why wouldn’t I come for you this time?”

  Maggie looked away. “When you came for me up there, you didn’t know I was carrying the child of one of those awful men.”

  “Maggie, I can’t talk about that right now, but I’m not going to leave you over it. I need time to let this settle in my head. The important thing is to get you some help and some rest.” He sighed, removed his hat, running a hand through his hair. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Maggie, what did Jasper do to you? And I’m not talking about the obvious… the injuries I can see.”

  She knew he felt he’d failed her. She wiped at tears with a shaking hand. “They didn’t touch me that way. They rode so hard to get there that they were too tired for anything else, even these last couple of days.”

  “That the truth?”

  “Yes. I’m just sorry about how you found out about… the baby. I intended to tell you privately once this was all over with. I didn’t say anything because I knew you’d leave me behind, and I wanted to stay with you till we found those men. The only reason Jasper knew was because… last night that extra man they picked up won me in a card game. I was desperate to figure out a way to keep him from… you know.” She sniffed and struggled to stay in control of her emotions. “I told him I was carrying… that it was the bastard child of Jasper or Jimmy and…” More tears came. “And that you’d never come for me because of it. I told him the only reason Jasper figured you were after him was because he stole your money… that Jasper lied and had more money than he let on. That angered the man, and he left me alone—clobbered Jasper and walked out.” Her body jerked in a sob as she met Sage’s gaze. “I’m keeping this baby, Sage, even if it means losing you. I called him a bastard to make things look as bad as I could to that man. I don’t intend to think of my baby as a bastard. It’s all I’ve got after losing my little girl.”

  Sage put his hat back on. “I’m so goddamn sorry, Maggie” he told her. “This should never have happened in the first place. I thought I’d go out of my mind knowing you were with that son of a bitch again.”

  “You couldn’t have known.” Maggie breathed deeply to fight her crying. “The only thing that kept me going was knowing you’d come and get me. And you did. It’s over now. We’ve done what we came to do.”

  Sage rubbed the back of his neck. “I know what you’re thinking,” he told her, “that I won’t want anything to do with you now. Get those thoughts out of your head, Maggie. I need time to think. The first thing we need to do is for you to get some rest and me to go see what’s happened with Kate. Believe that I will come back for you. Will you do that?”

  Maggie nodded, more tears streaking through the dirt on her face.

  Sage sidled his horse closer, reaching out to wipe at her tears with his fingers. “I was scared to death over how I might find you. You’re some scrapper, Maggie Tucker.” He gave her a smile. “Jasper’s face was burned pretty bad. Did you do that?”

  Maggie felt better at his touch… his smile. “I sure did. I had to find a way to warn you and keep Jasper from getting to his gun too soon. My only weapon was a frying pan of hot grease.”

  Sage nodded. “I told Newell you were a hard woman to break.”

  She held his gaze. “Sometimes, it’s the little things that break us, Sage.”

  He moved an arm down and around her waist, pulling her off her horse and onto his. “Right now, you look ready to fall off your horse. Hang on to me.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “I’d like to hang on to you forever.” She rested her head against his chest, deciding that for now, she could deal with life an hour at a time, a day at a time, for however long it took Sage Lightfoot to decide if his love was strong enough to accept her condition… and to believe she’d not intended to betray him by claiming he was the father.

  Sage took the reins to her horse and headed east. Maggie watched Newell in the distance, already far enough to be a mere dot on the immense landscape, a man alone with an unknown past, like so many men out here… and so many women too.

  Forty-three

  Eight days
later

  Maggie watched little whirls of dust drift upward far off in the yellow-grass valley beyond the Becker home. Men on horses, she thought… going somewhere… going nowhere. Maybe it was Sage, finally coming for her.

  Today was a rare day of no wind. The heat felt heavy, and the dust swirls hung lazily in the air for several minutes. She wondered how many riders were out there, how far away they were… five, maybe six miles? Distance seemed to have little relevance in this country. She couldn’t tell if the riders were headed toward the ranch, or maybe, just riding past it.

  She sat in a rocker on the wide veranda that stretched across the front of the Becker’s two-story frame home. It was lovely here, peaceful. Large pine trees encircled the house and barns, and today they were filled with colorful, chirping birds. On the north side of the trees was a combination store and restaurant, run by Sarah Becker, a thin but tough old woman with a heart as big as the valley that stretched into forever beyond the homestead.

  Maggie leaned against the wide wooden slats of the rocker and closed her eyes. It was July twenty-first, and she’d been here over a full week… waiting. When Sage first dropped her off, Sarah prepared a wonderful, warm bath and washed her hair. After that she ate… then she slept… and slept… almost constantly, for nearly three full days. Sage was right. Sleep was what she’d needed. She was grateful that Sarah had indeed asked no questions. After living out here for years, nothing shocked or surprised the old woman.

  Maggie put a hand to her belly, which was growing a little. Her waist was a bit thicker, but nothing the unknowing person would notice. Sarah gave her a lovely blue gingham dress to wear today. It belonged to one of the woman’s grown daughters who left clothes at the house for the times she visited.

  My Jessie has four children now—lives down in Cheyenne. Her husband owns a dry goods store there, Sarah said. She was proud of her children.

  Maggie had decided she, too, would raise children of whom she could be proud, starting with the life that fluttered in her abdomen. Yes, this baby was indeed alive, and he or she was strong—a fighter. This baby could bring her the happiness she’d never known… fill the void in her heart left there when her pretty little Susan died.

  She shook away the awful memory and concentrated on the approaching rider. Could it be Sage? The spirals of dust indeed seemed to be drawing closer now, and she was sure there was only one man coming, one man leading two horses. Her heart raced a little faster. Had he made any decisions? Was Kate all right?

  And what about Joanna? She’d had time to think about the fact that Joanna would likely be at Paradise Valley when they arrived. The woman was yet another obstacle to be faced when they reached home… if Sage even took her back with him.

  “Rider comin’… looks like he’s got a couple of packhorses with him.” Joe Becker came to stand beside Maggie on the veranda.

  “I’ve been watching the dust,” Maggie answered. “I thought, at first, there were only two horses, but now, I see three. How far away do you think he is?”

  Joe stretched and rubbed the back of his sunburned neck, then sat in a wooden chair next to Maggie’s rocker. “I figure about four miles. He’s ridin’ easy, most likely to save the horses cuz of the heat.”

  Joe was old and thin like his wife, but there was nothing weak or soft about him in spite of the man’s wrinkles and age. Maggie could tell he was tough as nails, probably a lot stronger than he looked. She wondered how he and Sarah ended up running a restaurant and boardinghouse in outlaw country, but just as they’d asked no questions, Maggie obliged the same courtesy.

  “I’ll bet you’re used to watching the horizon,” she told Joe.

  “In this country? You bet.” He licked at dry, cracked lips. “Been watchin’ for newcomers for years. Always have my guns ready—and a couple of men to back me up—just in case, but most are respectful in spite of their backgrounds or their reasons for being out here. There’s kind of a code in this country.”

  “I figured that out not long after I met Sage and his men.”

  Joe nodded. “Ain’t many men out here who’d abuse you like them men did up yonder at Hole-In-The-Wall. Sage, he did right by killin’ them.” He scratched at stubble on his chin. “Sage is a good man. I’ve knowed him for years—since he wasn’t much more than a kid.”

  Maggie continued watching the little clouds of dust as Joe talked.

  “I could tell he was different from them men he ran with. All men have good and bad in them, Miss Maggie, and most of them wrestle with which one is gonna take over. Sage mentioned once over a meal that he’d like a ranch of his own someday, said he’d have a family too. Not many men who come to these parts care much about either one. I reckon most had a bad childhood that made them like they are, so they don’t much care about nothin’.”

  Maggie thought about Kate and Newell and how hurt Sage must have been when the people he thought loved him kicked him out at an age when he needed guidance. She figured Sage’s biggest fear was rejection. His father rejected him, the people who raised him rejected him… and Joanna rejected him.

  I would never do that to you, Sage. Sage must figure she’d betrayed his trust, which was yet another rejection in his mind. He liked honesty, and she’d not been honest. It might be impossible to get back the love and trust they’d shared for such a short time. The hardest part was trying to imagine living without Sage Lightfoot.

  Joe rambled on a little longer about the kind of men in these parts, then rose and said he was going inside to get his shotgun, “Just in case.” The rider in the distance finally began to take shape… three horses… one man who sat tall in the saddle. After another half hour, he came close enough for Maggie to recognize him.

  It was Sage.

  Forty-four

  Joe Becker walked out to greet Sage as he dismounted.

  “Just in time for supper,” Joe said. “I’ll have somebody take care of the horses for you.”

  “Thanks, Joe. Maggie and I will be leaving right away early morning.” Sage took a leather supply bag from his horse. “This is all I need for tonight. After supper I’ll wash up and get some sleep. Thanks for all you’ve done.”

  “No problem. You go on inside, and Sarah will set a place for you and Maggie at the table.”

  Sage walked to the porch, and Maggie rose. He wore a red shirt and looked so handsome, but Maggie’s heart fell at the fact that his eyes were unreadable. “How is Kate?”

  Sage leaned against a support post and took a drag on a thin cigar he’d been smoking when he arrived. “She’ll be okay. Believe it or not, she was up and walking when we got to Lander. One leg is partially paralyzed, but she gets around pretty good with a cane. By the time I left, she was harping on Newell to quit hovering over her and get back to work.” He smiled sadly. “Those two were nagging each other like an old married couple.”

  Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” She folded her arms. “Maybe they will get married someday.”

  Sage shook his head. “That’s something I’d have to see to believe.” He studied her a moment. “You look rested.”

  So stiff… all the comfortable closeness gone. “I’m much better.”

  “Good.” Sage tossed his cigar to the ground and opened the screen door, following Maggie inside.

  “Did you get your money back?” she asked.

  She heard the screen door close behind her.

  “Only about a third—not nearly enough, after all we went through.”

  They walked into the dining room—the only two there at the moment. Maggie faced Sage. “You said we’d leave in the morning. I’m grateful that you’re at least taking me back to the ranch.” She studied his dark eyes, still full of doubt. “That is where we’re going, right?”

  Sage removed his hat and hung it on a hook by the door. “That’s where we’re going.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve made any decisions beyond that?”

  He faced her. “No, Maggie. It’s all too fresh.
I feel… raw. That’s the only word I can think of. It must be the same for you.”

  “I guess you could describe it that way. I slept a lot… nearly three days. I still hurt in a lot of places, but overall, like I said, I feel much better.”

  He looked her over. “You look nice in that blue dress.”

  A compliment. Small as it was, Maggie welcomed it. “Thank you. And I’ve never seen you wear red. It’s a good color on you.”

  Sarah came in with a porcelain bowl full of mashed potatoes. “Well, you made it!” she told Sage. “Good to see you, Sage! You two sit down. I was just putting supper on.”

  Sage nodded. “Thanks, Sarah.”

  He sat down, and Maggie took a chair across from him. “Did you get that shirt in Lander?”

  Sage took up his cloth napkin and laid it over his knee. “Figured I’d get some new shirts. After all that traveling, what I had was getting pretty well used up. I got you a couple of dresses.”

  Maggie was surprised he’d thought to do something like that. “You did?”

  He shrugged. “Figured it was the same for you… clothes worn out and all. And I supposed you wouldn’t want to wear pants again when we leave. It’s time you dressed and felt like a woman.”

  Maggie wished she knew what his thoughtfulness meant. Was it because he still loved her, or was he helping her stock up for when he sent her away?

  “I hope they fit,” he continued. “I don’t know how much you’ve gained by now. I expect your waistline will be growing pretty quick. I don’t know much about those things, but from what I see, you don’t look much different yet.”

  There it was. He was hinting at her condition, bringing it up in a roundabout way. She felt a flush come to her cheeks. “I haven’t changed much yet, but yes, my waist has grown a little.” She put a hand to her stomach, suddenly too aware of the awkward situation.

  For the next several minutes, there was no more talk between them. Joe came inside, and Sarah brought more food. Talk turned to Lander and Kate and Sage’s money—how Sage was doing now—if Kate might be able to walk without a cane someday. They talked about the weather and ranching… small talk… anything to avoid what really needed discussing.