TEXAS! SAGE

by Sandra Brown

  Devon reached up to ruffle Lucky's hair, which the hospital pillow had flattened to his head. "I doubt they would be too shocked. From what I understand, he used to look like this frequently."

  "Not since I met you." He reached for her hand and squeezed it, then took a sip of his coffee through the straw. "Is Sage up yet? I'd like to talk to her."

  For several moments, no one said anything. The other three avoided making eye contact with Lucky. At last Chase cleared his throat and said, "She's gone."

  "Gone? Gone where?"

  "We're not sure. Just gone."

  Lucky's eyes darted around the circle of averted faces. "You're leaving something out, and whatever it is, it's already eating a hole in my gut."

  "She left with Harlan."

  Lucky swore and banged his bruised fist against the edge of the table, then cursed because it hurt. "And you let her go?"

  "I didn't let her go." Angrily Chase left his chair and began to pace the width of the kitchen. "She didn't exactly ask my permission, Lucky. She packed her suitcase and sneaked out, leaving a note saying not to worry and that she would call in occasionally and for us not even to think about coming after her.

  "I checked, and Harlan's trailer is gone. So are all his schematics of the prototype. By the way, did you know he had a computer attached to it?" he asked out of context.

  Lucky plowed his fingers through his hair. "I can't believe you let her waltz out of here with that womanizing bum. Are they eloping or what?"

  "Damned if I know. Maybe they took the drawings so he could peddle the idea to some other company."

  "I don't believe what I'm hearing!" Marcie exclaimed, surging to her feet.

  "Neither do I," Devon said. "Listen to yourselves." She included her brother-in-law and husband in her critical glare. "All we've heard for months is how smart and wonderful Harlan Boyd is. 'He's got terrific ideas.' 'This idea of his is great.' 'If it works, we'll have all our people back on the payroll soon.' 'This is going to save us.'"

  "Devon's right," Marcie said. "That's exactly what we've heard. Chase, just a few nights ago you were telling me how you planned to take over the manufacturing while Lucky handled installation."

  "You said the same thing," Devon reminded her husband. "You were so excited about the prospect of working hard again. You took Harlan's idea and ran with it. I haven't seen you so optimistic and full of energy about your business since I met you."

  Marcie again picked up the argument. "And all because Harlan figured out a way to adapt your equipment and know-how to do another job. Now, all of a sudden, he's persona non grata. Yesterday, he was a hero. He could work miracles."

  "A hero who, behind our back," Lucky mumbled through his swollen lips, "seduced our baby sister."

  "So what?"

  "So what?" he incredulously repeated.

  "Yes, so what?" Marcie said. "She's not your baby sister. She's a grown woman. If she wanted to sleep with Harlan and vice versa, it was none of your business. Or yours," she said, making a jabbing motion toward Chase's chest.

  "By jumping to conclusions, you're doing Sage, as well as Harlan, a grave disservice," Devon said. "I'm appalled by your lack of confidence in them, particularly your own sister. On top of all that, you're making yourselves look like a couple of fools."

  "How's that?" Chase asked.

  "I see exactly what she means," Marcie said. "Don't you trust your own judgment of people? You had every confidence in this man twenty-four hours ago."

  "Twenty-four hours ago I didn't know he'd taken advantage of Sage."

  "You still don't," Marcie shouted at her husband. "Maybe Sage took advantage of him. Did you ever think of that?"

  "You, Lucky Tyler," Devon said angrily, "are a fine one to be accusing any man of taking advantage of a woman!"

  "Aw, come on, Devon." He spoke hastily in self-defense and winced when the cut on his lip reopened. Nursing it, he muttered, "You can't compare them with what happened between you and me the night we met."

  "All I know," Chase shouted over everyone else, "is that Sage is vulnerable right now on account of the breakup with Travis. She's probably feeling bereft over Mother's marriage too. Otherwise, she would never fall for a guy like Harlan."

  "Why not? Harlan's gorgeous and sexy."

  Lucky's discolored jaw fell open. He was stunned by his wife's comment. "Well now, that's a fine way for a married lady with a baby to be talking about a man."

  "I'm married, not blind," she snapped. "And he is gorgeous and sexy. Even Laurie thinks so."

  "My mother?" Lucky shrieked.

  "Yes, your mother. She told me so."

  "What makes you an expert on the kind of man Sage would fall for?" Marcie demanded of Chase. Lucky and Devon, occupied with shooting each other fulminating glances, subsided and gave the other couple the floor. They squared off chin-to-chin.

  "I know her," Chase said. "I've known her a hell of a lot longer than you have. Harlan, with his lack of polish and breeding, is the last man Sage would go to bed with if her head were on straight."

  "Well, love does that sort of thing to people," Marcie said loftily. "It spins their heads around."

  "Love? Who said anything about love? At best, we're talking lust here."

  "Whatever it is, it has a powerful effect on people. It makes them do crazy, out-of-the-ordinary things."

  "Crazy things like running off in the middle of the night with no explanation?"

  "Crazy things like making Chase Tyler marry Goosey Johns," she shouted. "What do you figure were the odds against that?" Reining in her redhead's temper, she eyed her husband coolly. "Before you and Lucky get up a posse to go rescue Sage, you'd be wise to consider that she might not want to be rescued." She sniffed sanctimoniously. "You'd better come upstairs with me, Devon. I think I hear Lauren crying."

  Carrying Jamie with her, Marcie swept from the room. Devon was right behind her.

  Lucky raised his one good eye to his brother and said dejectedly, "I warned you that if they ever teamed up against us we'd be sunk."

  "Well," Chase said, then sighed, dropping into the nearest chair, "we're sunk."

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  Harlan's pickup didn't even make it as far as Austin.

  About thirty miles north of the capital city, the engine began to wheeze. After another ten miles, white smoke started curling from beneath the battered hood.

  Sage opened her mouth to speak, but, remembering his threat to make her walk, closed it again. She glanced at him. He was wearing a smug grin.

  "I see you're taking my warning to heart," he said, sounding pleased.

  Testily, she asked, "Are you going to let it blow up and take us with it?"

  "I'm looking for a convenient place to stop."

  A quarter of a mile farther, he took an exit to a roadside park. The choking, coughing truck was a laughingstock to the other motorists using the facility. Sage wanted to crouch down in the seat and cover her head.

  Harlan, however, didn't appear to be the least bit self-conscious as he got out and ambled toward the front of the pickup. The rusty metal hood screeched in protest when he raised it. A cloud of white smoke billowed out.

  He waited, waving most of it away, before ducking his head and bending over the motor. After a few minutes, he came around to the passenger side. Since Sage had no window to roll down, she put her shoulder to the door and shoved it open.

  "What's the diagnosis?"

  "Busted water hose," he reported. "The radiator has boiled dry."

  "Is that bad?"

  He propped one elbow on the corner of the door and looked at her with amusement. "It is unless you want to burn up your engine."

  That sounded like an attractive way of dispensing with the detestable vehicle. "I don't suppose this heap is insured."

  He shook his head. "Don't believe in it."

  "Triple A?" she asked hopefully.

  "Nope."

  "Then what do you suggest?"

&n
bsp; He began unbuttoning his flannel shirt. When the buttons were undone, he tugged the shirttail from the waistband of his jeans and peeled it off. "Hold this."

  She took the shirt he thrust at her and watched speechlessly as he crossed his arms over his chest and pulled up the hem of his plain, white T-shirt. He took it off over his head, leaving his torso bare.

  It bore bruises from last night's fist fight. Morning sunlight glistened on his chest hair. The chilly wind shrank his nipples.

  Sage's tummy did a flip-flop.

  With both hands, he ripped his T-shirt down the middle, then tore off the sleeves. He moved to the front of the pickup again, giving Sage a good view of his shirtless back, which was almost as tantalizing as the front. His pale blond hair curled down over his nape. His skin was stretched smooth over supple muscles.

  Curious, she leaned out the door so she could see what he was doing beneath the raised hood. Dry-mouthed and fascinated, she watched the muscles of his lean arms flex and relax as he wrapped the strips of cotton around the leak in the hose. His veins stood out. His hands looked strong and capable as they tied a hard knot in the cloth. From a nearby hydrant, he replaced the water that had leaked out.

  He slammed the hood cover and headed for the square brick structure that housed the public toilets. "Be right back," he said over his shoulder. "Got to wash my hands."

  Sage hastily turned the rearview mirror toward her. The image it reflected came as an unpleasant shock. Not only did she feel like she had been up all night, she looked it. Since getting eight hours of sleep was currently out of the question, she did the best she could with the cosmetics in her handbag.

  As Harlan had improvised to repair the pickup, she improvised to repair her face, working quickly so he wouldn't think her vanity had anything to do with him. Just as he rounded the corner of the building, she crammed her hairbrush back into her purse and tried to appear impatient and bored over the delay.

  Moments after he climbed into the cab, he sniffed the air. "Do I smell perfume?"

  "I wanted to freshen up a little. Is that all right with you?"

  "Sure, it's fine with me. You looked like hell before." Miffed, she pushed his shirt toward him. He caught it and began to laugh. "You can't take a joke, can you?"

  Resting his forearms on the unfashionably large steering wheel, he turned his head and gazed at her. "If it makes your ego feel any better, Sage, I've had a hard time keeping both hands on the wheel."

  The stare they exchanged became uncomfortably long. During it, Sage reminded herself that theirs was a business-only relationship. That had been her rule. She had decreed it, so she couldn't be the first one to break it. Besides, she couldn't let anything distract her from her ultimate goal. Harlan didn't even have to try very hard to be a distraction. In fact, he didn't have to try at all.

  She finally pulled her eyes away from his stare and nodded toward the hood. "Is it, uh, working now?"

  "Oh, it's working all right," he replied huskily.

  "Do you think it will explode?"

  He swallowed hard. "It might. I've just got to make sure it doesn't get too hot."

  Having the distinct impression that they were talking about two different engines, she nervously moistened her lips. "Aren't you going to put your shirt back on?"

  "Why? Does looking at my bare chest bother you?"

  "Not at all."

  He grinned in that knowing way that made her feel transparent. As he connected the two bare wires that started the motor, he added, "Miss Sage, you're no better at lying than you are at taking a joke."

  * * *

  "This is really fun. I feel a sense of freedom, don't you?"

  "I've been free since I was fifteen, remember?" They were speeding down the six-lane divided highway that bisected the Texas map from the Red River, south to the Mexican border.

  "Well, being completely unencumbered might be nothing new to you, but it is to me," Sage said. "I feel as carefree as a gypsy."

  From Austin she had insisted that they travel in her car, which had been left parked at her apartment since the day Travis had picked her up and driven her to Houston for the holidays.

  Over the last several months of her college career, she had gradually been moving things from the apartment which had been home for three years. Her two roommates were pleased to purchase her share of the furniture and household items since they planned to continue living there. What few personal items that remained, they promised to store in a spare closet until a convenient time for her to take them.

  At the bank, she emptied her savings and checking accounts. It wasn't a sizable sum, but she wouldn't soon starve. While she had been settling her affairs, Harlan had gone off alone and returned to the apartment on foot.

  Within a matter of hours, they were heading south from Austin, traveling lean. She had asked him to drive because she was too excited and nervous to concentrate. Now that old ties were severed, her mission well defined in her mind, her plan in full swing, she was bursting with energy and enthusiasm.

  They had gone several miles before she thought to ask him about his Streamline trailer. It had been necessary for them to leave it behind since her car didn't have a trailer hitch.

  "I left it with a friend," he told her. "He owns a filling station. Said I could park it behind his building."

  "Are you sure it'll be there when you come back for it?"

  He frowned at her. "I said he's a friend. We worked on the same offshore rig for a time. That's like going through a war together."

  "What about your truck? Did you just desert it on the side of the road?"

  "That would've been a waste, wouldn't it? I sold it for two hundred dollars."

  "Two hundred dollars! What idiot gave you two hundred dollars for that piece of junk?"

  "A junk dealer."

  "Oh." They smiled at each other. His eyes returned to the road. Sage asked, "Have you always worked in oil-related industries?"

  "Mostly."

  She waited for him to elaborate. He didn't. His reticence aggravated her, so she probed. "If you had to fill out a form of some sort, what would you write down as your occupation?"

  "I never fill out forms," he said.

  "But if you had to."

  "I don't."

  "Harlan!" she cried in frustration. "Just suppose you did."

  He heaved a sigh. "Okay. I guess I'd say I was a professional troubleshooter. If somebody has a problem, I go in and try to fix it."

  "Somebody? You mean anybody?"

  "If I like them and they like me, and if I believe I can do them some good."

  "So you scout out people with problems?"

  Clearly uncomfortable talking about it, he shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. Like when I met Chase in Houston last year, I liked him immediately. It was mutual. He told me his company had bottomed out. I wasn't available to help at the time, but I didn't forget him. As soon as I was free, I went to Milton Point."

  "Once a problem is solved—"

  "To everybody's satisfaction…"

  "You—"

  "Move on to another one."

  "No attachments."

  "That's right."

  "Ever?"

  "Ever."

  "Hmm."

  She pondered the stretch of highway for a moment, suddenly feeling lonely and dejected. He disposed of things—trailers, pickup trucks— easily and with no remorse. When it was time to move on, he left people behind, too, without looking back. Sage wondered how many women he had left behind, women who had been in love with him.

  The thought took the fizzle out of her effervescent mood. For the next few miles, she said nothing.

  * * *

  "There's a Dairy Queen up ahead." Sage pointed to the familiar red and white sign. "Let's stop. I'm starving."

  "Sage, we stopped an hour ago because you had to go to the bathroom. Thirty minutes before that you had to have a Snickers bar or die."

  "It's suppertime. Let's stop and eat, then driv
e all night."

  "Okay. But with your stomach and bladder along for the ride, I'm afraid we'll never get to the valley."

  They had made the Rio Grande Valley their general destination because there was so much agriculture in that region. They reasoned that cotton and citrus growers would be potential customers for their irrigation system.

  The Dairy Queen was doing a thriving dinner business. They had to wait in line to place their order.

  "I'm so hungry, I could eat a horse," she murmured while perusing the menu.

  "Sorry. Not on the menu."

  Undaunted by his teasing, she said, "I want a cheeseburger with everything. A large order of fries. A chocolate shake. And an order of nachos."

  "With peppers?"

  "Of course with peppers. What're nachos without peppers? Lots and lots of peppers."

  That's when he kissed her. One second she was smiling up at him, smacking her lips in greedy anticipation of the spicy food, and the next, he was curving his hand around her nape and drawing her mouth up to his for a long, deep kiss that blocked out the racket of the restaurant. She tentatively rested her hands at the sides of his waist, then slid her arms around him and hugged him tight. Harlan ended the kiss long before she was ready for him to. He gazed into her face for a moment, telling her with his eyes that propriety and not desire had prompted him to end it.

  He draped his arm across her shoulders and pulled her close. She left one arm around his waist and reached up with the other to clasp his hand where it dangled over her shoulder. Sage thought that, to everyone else, they must look like a couple in love out on a casual date.

  At that moment, she desperately wanted them to be.

  When it came their turn to order, Harlan smiled down at her as he spoke to the waitress. "The lady wants an order of nachos with peppers. Lots and lots of peppers."

  Sage gorged indelicately on the fast food. Food hadn't tasted this good to her in… She couldn't remember when food had ever tasted this good and wondered if Harlan's kiss had, in some mystical way, seasoned it.

  "Want another cheeseburger?" he asked as she polished off the last bite.

  Laughing, she blotted her mouth with the paper napkin. "No thanks, but it was delicious. It's been ages since I've had one."