Sweet Mountain Magic

by Rosanne Bittner

  Sage went inside the saloon. There were always men around who knew about blasting away granite to find the gold that lay hidden beneath it. Men like that, and the suppliers and those who helped the miners in other ways, were the smart ones. They stayed in town, where it was warm and safe. They didn’t have to dig and pan every day from dawn to dusk. Those who fed the miners, whored for them, did their laundry, sold them their mining supplies, their mules—many of them got rich without all the work.

  Sage scanned the room. The sun was beginning to set, and the tavern was coming alive with gamblers and whores. Some of the women eyed him, and he wondered if they really did joke about him as Randy had said. He wondered if they had their own secret bet going, over who finally would get Sage MacKenzie to come to her bed, for several of them were making eyes at him. He figured they must think he had come back for a woman, since he and Randy had been here just a couple of days earlier and now Sage was back alone.

  He had thought a lot lately about which one he would want if he bedded one of them. Old manly instincts had been long neglected. In fact, he was surprised at how long he could go without a woman since being with Mary, yet when he had been with Mary, he had wanted her every day, every moment. It wasn’t that he had actually taken her every time he had wanted her. It was just that the desire had always been there, and since losing her, that desire had melted away to nothingness.

  Perhaps he was just afraid—afraid that being with one of these women would make him start thinking again about those wonderful times with Mary. Henny had done that to him. After being with Henny, he had awakened to a terrible depression rather than feeling relieved. He didn’t want to feel that way again. But he needed a woman. That was one thing that was getting harder to deny every time he came to town.

  His eyes moved to a man he remembered had advertised his skills with explosives last time Randy and Sage had been in town. “I can blow away one rock or half a mountain,” the man had bragged. Sage wondered why Randy hadn’t approached the man right then. Was he too proud? Too determined to show he could do everything by himself? There were times when Sage thought he understood the boy, and times when he didn’t understand him at all.

  He started toward the man when an explosion hit his ears with a distant boom. Even though the explosion came from far up in the mountains, it was obvious it was a very big one, for the ground shook slightly, and the booming sound was followed by considerable rumbling.

  People in the saloon quieted, all of them looking at the door.

  “Who the hell does any blasting this time of day?” someone grumbled. “It’s gettin’ way too late.”

  An odd chill moved down Sage’s spine. He turned and went back out the door. People in the street were gazing up a mountainside where a little rift of smoke billowed, and even from the distance one could see that a large section of trees had been stripped out.

  “Somebody just blew out a good piece of mountain,” someone declared.

  “Don’t look right to me. I think whoever it was, he screwed up good. Hope he wasn’t standin’ very close to that. Them is big fir trees up there. Takes a lot to wipe out such a big section.”

  The rumbling continued. Apparently rocks and earth were still falling and sliding. Sage felt a lump forming in his throat, and he felt light-headed. The devastated section of the mountain was in the vicinity of their claim. He didn’t need to go up there to find out. He already knew what had happened.

  “You damned stupid kid,” he groaned. He turned to the man beside him. “I think I know where that is,” he told the man, tears in his eyes. “I need some men to come back up there with me. We might have to dig somebody out.”

  “Mister, you ain’t gonna find nobody in all that.”

  Sage looked up again. The rumbling had finally stopped. “I have to try,” he answered. “I’ve got no choice. I have to try.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Sage halted his horse on the side of the mountain, looking out over familiar country. The South Pass stretched out wide and still snow-covered before him. He was home. Here he felt so close to Mary. Here the memories became even more vivid.

  He had no particular idea as to what he would do next. He only knew it felt good to be back in the Wind River Range. Maybe he’d go to Fort Bridger and see if Sax Daniels was still around. He had gotten used to a little companionship, first from being with Mary, then with Randy.

  Poor Randy. The initial explosion had apparently blown his body quite far, for it had been found lying free of the huge slide of rocks and trees he had caused with the blasting powder. The boy was dead. When Sage had picked him up in his arms, it had felt as though every bone in his body had been broken. The terrible sting of not being able to talk to Randy once more, of having left on a bad note, haunted Sage. What had been Randy’s last thoughts? He shouldn’t have died up there alone. Had he lived for a while, lying there alone, calling for Sage?

  Sage felt as if he had lost a young brother. He had buried Randy and prayed over his grave, then had wept over it once he was alone. Why did it seem God had deliberately robbed him of every person who had meant anything to him?

  He felt so guilty. If he had not left, Randy would probably still be alive. What a waste of such a young life. Until finding Mary, Sage had never given so much thought to loneliness, to people who had no one who gave a damn about them. It had been so easy before, being independent, needing no one. He didn’t like living that way anymore, but he seemed destined for just such a life. First he had lost his parents, then Mary, and now Randy. He vowed he would never care that much again about anyone. It would all be easier to bear if he didn’t feel so responsible for the way Randy had died.

  He should never have left! He should never have left! Over and over he cursed himself for it. And it only made him wonder if he had also been wrong to leave Mary. How was her life? Was she happy? He would never know.

  He headed down a ridge toward the pass. He had sold the claim and had plenty of money. But there was nothing in particular he wanted to spend it on. He was rich because of Randy, and now Randy was dead. What good was the money? It would have been useful if he still had had Mary, but she was gone. And he couldn’t have any fun spending it on frivolous things, because Randy’s memory was too haunting. He supposed Randy would want him to blow it all and have a good time, but he could not have a good time all alone. He had let down a friend, and guilt ate at him.

  He had to find a way to keep busy. Trapping was out of the question. The only thing left was scouting. He decided that after stopping at Fort Bridger he would head for Fort Laramie. Wagon trains would be coming through there by the thousands. If a man wanted a job scouting, there ought to be great opportunity for such a man among the greenhorns heading for California to find their own riches. He shook his head at how foolish they all were. So few of those heading for the gold fields would ever find enough to support themselves. It was a hard life. It had destroyed Randy Lucas. But then maybe Randy Lucas had destroyed himself. There had always been a sad emptiness behind that wild, carefree personality—a loneliness that Sage realized even he had been unable to fill.

  He kicked his horse into a steady lope. It felt good to be back here, and it eased his own loneliness. If only Mary were seeing all of this again with him. If only she were riding with him, her long, dark hair flying in the wind, her violet eyes dancing with love.

  Rafe brought the carriage to the front of the boarding house. It was early spring, 1850, and birds flitted among flowering trees. His heart was filled with mixed emotions. The divorce had been final for several weeks, and he was already remarried to Roslyn. They were happy, but there would always be this lingering love in a corner of his heart for Mary, and he felt so responsible for the danger to which she was now submitting herself.

  “Wyoming!” he muttered. “Maybe California, she says.” Had the woman lost her mind again? He had left her well set. She had plenty of money to take care of herself and the boy, could lead a fine life right here in St. Louis
, probably find another man, a very fine one who would be willing to marry her.

  He stared at the boardinghouse, an elegant structure in the better part of town. Her apartment was small but lovely. She lived a comfortable life and could live that way forever if she wished. Why did she have to go west?

  He climbed out of the carriage. He knew why, and that was the reason he was helping her. If she wanted to try to find Sage MacKenzie, she had that right. If only she didn’t have to go back into that dangerous land to do it.

  He went to the double front doors, noticing how brightly polished the stained glass was that decorated them. He went inside, walking to the door that led to Mary’s apartment. He knocked lightly, hearing the patter of James’s running feet inside.

  He heard the boy laugh. He would miss James, even though he had never been able to love him like his own son. He was a charming boy, always smiling and getting into mischief. He was a good little boy who hardly ever cried. If only James had been his own. It all would have been so much easier.

  The door opened, and Mary smiled. “You’re right on time.” She stepped back, and he noticed that everything was ready. All her own personal items had been taken down from walls and off tables and mantels. “I sold a lot of things. I certainly won’t need fancy items where I’m going. Maybe once I settle somewhere and more people head west, that land will become more civilized and there will be cities, and a person will be able to have fancy things. But it really doesn’t matter.”

  She was busily shoving some last-minute items into a carpetbag. Rafe could hardly believe his ears. How could a woman brought up as she had been so easily take to the kind of life she would have to suffer on a wagon train west?

  “I wish you would change your mind, Mary. I’m going to be worried sick about you and James.”

  She turned and met his eyes, then smiled sadly. “I know you will. And I appreciate your helping me, Rafe. I hope Roslyn doesn’t mind.”

  He pulled off leather gloves. “She understands. She’s really very nice, Mary.”

  Mary turned away. “I’m sure she is.” She closed the carpetbag, taking a deep breath before turning back to him. “You really shouldn’t worry, Rafe. You’re the one who found me that nice family to travel with, remember? Three whole wagons they’re taking.” Her eyes lit up with excitement. “I’ll bet there are hundreds of wagons lined up outside the courthouse, aren’t there?”

  He smiled at her almost girlish excitement. “Yes. It seems our courthouse has become the central gathering place for emigrants. This westward movement has certainly helped us businessmen.” He folded his arms. “But I can’t help being a little envious, Mary. Sometimes I want to go out there myself.” He frowned. “Then I think of Texas, and I know why I’m staying right here. And I wonder how you can do it. Aren’t you afraid?”

  She picked up her cape, and he thought how beautiful she still was, after all she had been through. Today she wore green velvet.

  “I know I should be,” she answered. “But somehow…after all I went through…and then after all Sage taught me about survival…I lost all my fear, Rafe. And then being honest with you, and you with me…admitting we both love someone else…it just helped me be stronger, helped me know what I really want.”

  He dropped his arms, stepping closer. “And what if you don’t find it, Mary? Sage MacKenzie is a wandering man, a man who thinks he can never have you now. God only knows what ever happened to him. What will you do if he’s not out there? Maybe the man is dead. Did you ever think of that?”

  She smiled sadly. “Of course. But Sage is a survivor. He would have survived losing me, and as far as physical dangers, it would take a lot to get the best of Sage MacKenzie. And I know him well enough to know that if he is still alive, he went back to those mountains, Rafe. He loves them more than his own life. He might have stayed away a while, but he’ll go back. Everywhere we stop, I’ll ask about him—at every fort and town. I’ll find someone who knows him, knows where he is.”

  He grasped her arms. “And what if he has some other woman? It’s reasonable to think the man might find someone else, Mary.”

  She looked down. “He wouldn’t. I just know he wouldn’t. A man like Sage doesn’t go from one woman to the next that easily. He’s not a settling man.” She met his eyes again. “But he would have settled with me—and he still will when I find him, especially when he finds out he has a son. And even if for some reason we can’t be together, Rafe, he has the right to know James is his child. I owe him that much.”

  Rafe sighed deeply, kissing her forehead. “I can see there is no arguing about it.”

  She smiled, but her eyes teared. “It could have been so good between us, Rafe. But I understand, and I hope you do, too.”

  He rubbed his hands along her arms. “I never really stopped loving you, Mary. I wanted it to work. I never lost my respect for you, and that’s the God’s truth.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek. “I know.” She took a deep breath. “But we had one heck of a wedding, didn’t we?”

  He smiled, his own eyes tearing. “And honeymoon.”

  Their eyes held and he leaned closer, kissing her lightly. “God be with you, Mary. You’d better write and let me know if you find him. If you’re with Sage I won’t worry.”

  “I’ll write—either way. Did you keep your promise about not telling my father and mother until I’m well on my way?”

  He rolled his eyes, stepping back and picking up some of her bags. “I kept it. But your father will have me chained and whipped when he finds out what I’ve done.”

  “Well, if he knows too soon, he’ll send an army after me and drag me back by the heels.” She leaned down and picked up James, who was getting almost too heavy for her to carry. “I don’t want to go back to them, Rafe. You can understand.”

  “I’m trying to. You’re giving up a very comfortable life, Mary Cousteau. What about all that money? You keeping it in a safe place?”

  She hoisted James onto one hip and patted her abdomen and breasts. “Very safe.” Rafe laughed and carried the bags outside. Mary followed. “Actually, a good portion of the money is in the bottom of my trunk, and hidden in several of those bags. No sense in putting it all in one place,” she told him.

  Rafe slung the bags into the back of the buggy. “You’ll have to help me carry the trunk. How heavy is it? Maybe I’d better find another man to help.”

  “I think we can get it.”

  Rafe turned and took James from her arms, hugging him. “You be a good boy for your mommy,” he told the boy.

  James hugged him back. “Bye-bye, Daddy,” he said in his tiny voice. That was what Rafe Cousteau was to the boy—Daddy. Guilt swept over Rafe again. He closed his eyes, hugging the boy tightly for a moment, then meeting Mary’s eyes with his own tear-filled ones.

  “God, I’m sorry, Mary.” He cleared his throat. “If you find Sage, James will learn to call him Daddy soon enough. He’s young enough that he’ll forget me.” He hoisted the boy up to his shoulders and James laughed. “I’ve set aside a trust fund for him, Mary. When he’s twenty-one, he’ll have some money coming. Have him come to St. Louis, or send someone to take care of it for him.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “Rafe! You didn’t have to—”

  “Yes, I did have to. He doesn’t need to know who did it. It’s up to you whether or not to tell him.”

  She blinked back tears. “When he’s old enough to understand, I will tell him everything. I will not let him forget you, Rafe. I’ll explain it all one day. Sage won’t mind.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “You talk about him as though you’re so certain you’ll find him.”

  She smiled brightly. “But I will find him!”

  “I hope to God you’re right, Mary. Do you have anything along for defense—a handgun or something?”

  She patted her purse. “Right in here. And I even took lessons on how to use it.”

  “I hope so. You’re much too beautiful to be heading in
to uncivilized territory. I hope you realize you’ll stand out like a flower among thorns. There will be men out there who haven’t been with a woman in weeks.”

  Tiny flashes of hurt and pride flickered in her eyes. “Then I will be ready for them this time,” she said, holding up her chin. “And I’ll kill them or kill myself before another man touches me against my will.”

  He grinned slightly. “Yes, I believe you would. I think maybe I feel a little bit sorry for the man who tries anything with you, Mary Cousteau.” He turned and marched with James back toward the house. “Let’s get that trunk.”

  Mary followed, wondering at her own courage. She could hardly believe she was doing this, but she was not afraid. Somewhere in all she had been through she had found a new Mary St. Claire Cousteau—a woman within the woman she had never realized existed until her stamina had been tested in the worst way. But perhaps she never would have come through it so much stronger without Sage MacKenzie.

  She loved Rafe. She always would. But that part of her life was over and she had faced it. She would let Rafe be happy. And now she would go west, into a land that had been so cruel to her. But she would go, because Sage MacKenzie loved that land, and if he was still alive, he would be there and she would find him. Surely God would let her find him, because Sage had a son. Somehow the three of them would be together, the way it should be.