“The same.” Sarah rose,and waited while Maggie set a tray on the bureau. She’d long ago stopped arguing about eating. It had taken her only a few days to realize that if she wanted the strength to stay with Jake she needed food.
“Don’t worry none about this breakfast, because Anne Cody made it up for you.”
Sarah dashed away the hated, weakening tears.
“That was kind of her.”
“She asked about our boy here, and wanted you to know that Alice is doing just fine.”
“I’m glad.” Without interest, she folded back the cloth so that steam rose fragrantly from the biscuits. “Looks like Carlotta skipped town.”
“It doesn’t matter.” With no more interest than she had in the biscuits, she looked at her own face in the mirror. Behind her reflection, she could see Jake lying motionless in the bed. “The damage is done.”
“Child, you need sleep, and not what you get sitting up in that chair all night. You go on and use my room. I’ll stay with him.”
“I can’t.” Sarah ignored the biscuits and took the coffee. “Sometimes he calls for me, and I’m afraid if I’m not here he might…slip away. That’s foolish, I suppose, but I just can’t leave him, Maggie.”
“I know.” Because she did, Maggie set a comforting hand on Sarah’s shoulder. The noise at the door had her turning back. “What are you doing sneaking around here, young John Cody?”
Johnny slipped into the doorway and stood with his hat crushed in his hands. “Just wanted to see him, is all.”
“A sickroom ain’t no place for nasty little boys.” “It’s all right.” Sarah waved him in and summoned up a smile. “I’m sure Jake would be pleased that you’d taken the time to visit him.”
“He ain’t going to die, is he, Sarah?”
“No.” She found the confidence she’d lost during the night. “No, he isn’t going to die, Johnny.” “Ma says you’re taking real good care of him.” He reached out a hand, then balled it at his side again.
“It’s all right, boy,” Maggie said, softening. “You can pet him as long as he don’t know it. I do it myself.” Gingerly Johnny stroked a hand along Jake’s forehead.
“He’s pretty hot.”
“Yes, but the fever’s going to break soon.” Sarah laid a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Very soon.”
“Will’s better,” he said, giving Sarah a hopeful smile. “He’s got his arm in a sling and-all, but he’s getting around just fine and dandy. Won’t even let Liza fuss no more.”
“Before long Jake won’t let me fuss, either.”
Hours later she dozed, lulled by the afternoon sun. She slept lightly, her head nestled against the wing of the chair and her hands in her lap on top of her journal. She’d written everything she felt, hoped, despaired of on those pages. Someone called her name, and she lifted a hand as if to brush the voice away. She only wanted to sleep.
“Sarah.”
Now her eyes flew open, and she bolted out of the chair. Jake was half sitting up in bed, his brows drawn together in annoyance or confusion. And his eyes, she noted, were focused, alert and direct on hers.
“What the hell’s going on?” he asked her. Then he watched, astonished, as she collapsed on the side of the bed and wept.
It was three weeks before he had the strength to do more than stand on his own feet. He had time to think-perhaps too much time-but when he tried to do anything he found himself weak as a baby. It infuriated him, disgusted him. When he swore at Maggie twice in one morning, she told Sarah their patient was well on the road to recovery.
“He’s a tough one, Jake is,” Maggie went on as they climbed the steps to his room together. “Said he was damn sick and tired of having females poking him, pouring things into him and trying to give him baths.”
“So much for gratitude,” Sarah said with a laugh.
Then she swayed and clutched the banister for support. Maggie grabbed her arm. “Honey, are you all right?”
“Yes. Silly.” Shrugging it off, Sarah waited for the dizziness to pass. “I’m just tired yet, I think.” One look at Maggie’s shrewd face had her giving up and sitting carefully on the riser.
“How far along are you?”
It surprised Sarah that the direct question didn’t make her blush. Instead, she smiled. “About a month.” She knew the exact moment when she had conceived Jake’s child, on the riverbank under the moon. “I had the obvious sign, of course. Then, for the last few days, I haven’t been able to keep anything down in the morning.”
“I know.” Pleased as a partridge, Maggie cackled. “Honey, I knew you were breeding three days ago, when you turned green at the sight of Anne Cody’s flapjacks. Ain’t Jake just going to fall on his face?” “I haven’t told him,” Sarah said quickly. “I don’t want him to know until he’s…until we’ve…” She propped her chin in her hands. “Not yet, Maggie.” “That’s for you to decide.”
“Yes, and you won’t say any thing… to anyone?”
“Not a peep.”
Satisfied, Sarah rose and started up the stairs again. “The doctor said he’d be up and around in a couple of days. We haven’t been able to talk about anything important since he’s been healing.” She knocked on the door to his room before pushing it open.
The bed was empty.
“What-Maggie!”
“He was there an hour ago. I don’t know where-” But she was talking to air, as Sarah was flying down the stairs again.
“Sarah! Sarah!” His hand wrapped around a licorice whip, Johnny raced toward her. “I just saw Jake riding out of town. He sure looked a lot better.”
“Which way?” She grabbed the surprised boy by the shoulders. “Which way did he go?”
“That way.” He pointed. “I called after him, but I guess he didn’t hear me.”
“Damned hardheaded man,” Maggie muttered from the doorway.
“So he thinks he can just ride off,” Sarah said between her teeth. “Well, Jake Redman is in for a surprise. I need a horse, Maggie. And a rifle.”
He’d thought it through. He’d had nothing but time to think over the last weeks. She’d be mad, he figured. He almost smiled. Mad enough to spit, he imagined, but she’d get over it. In time she’d find someone who was right for her. Who was good for her.
Talking to her wouldn’t have helped. He’d never known a more stubborn woman. So he’d saddled up and ridden out of Lone Bluff the way he’d ridden out of countless towns before. Only this time it hurt. Not just the pain from his still-healing wound, but an ache deeper, sharper, than anything that could be caused by a bullet.
He’d get over it, too, he told himself. He’d just been fooling himself, letting himself pretend that she could belong to him.
He’d never forget how she’d looked, kneeling in the dirt with his gun in her hand. His gun. And there had been horror in her eyes. He’d taught her to kill, and he wasn’t sure he could live with that.
The way he figured it, she’d saved his life. The best he could do for her was return the favor and get out of hers.
She was rich now. Jake remembered how excited Lucius had been when he’d come to visit, talking on and on about the mine and how the gold was all but ready to fall into a man’s hands. She could go back east, or she could stay and build that big house with the parlor she’d told him about.
And he would…he would go on drifting.
When he heard the rider coming, instinct had him wheeling his horse around and reaching for his gun. He swore, rubbing his hand on his thigh, as Sarah closed the distance between them.
“You bastard.”
He acknowledged her with a nod. There was only one way to handle her now, one way to make certain she turned around and left. Before just looking at her made him want to crawl.
“Didn’t know you could ride, Duchess. You come out all this way to tell me goodbye?”
“I have more than that to say.” Her hands balled on the reins while she fought with her temper. “Not a word, Jake, to me, to anyone? Just saddle up and ride out?”