He looked at her then. "I agree. The question is, will you be yet another waste of time?"
Sage looked steadily back at him. "I can help you, Count Hanover, but you'll have to do what I say. It will not be painless, and I cannot make the healing fast.”
He nodded. "I've endured much already." He motioned for the guard at the door. "Move closer, Luther. If she does anything to shorten my life, kill her.”
The guard didn't look at her; he just nodded and pulled his knife. Apparently, he didn't plan to waste a bullet.
She turned to Myron, who was still standing near the door. "I'll need boiling water and lots of towels. I'll also need the fireplace lit and kept burning. As soon as it's a fire, I'd like you to move him close to it:"
Myron looked at the count, then hurried to do as she said. Within the hour, she'd begun. The temperature in the room had to be eighty. The guard Hanover had called Luther was sweating, but he never moved from watching her hands.
She'd stripped the count to his waist and placed a cold cloth over his head as she began to clean the wounds with water so hot it almost burned the pus away. The crude attempts to remove the bullet had left infections, and each had to be almost as painful as the embedded lead.
She made a tea out of the last of the willow tree bark her brothers mailed her from her Apache grandfather each year, and added a touch of opium from her bag. The tea helped him sweat, the willow bark eased fever, and the opium dulled the pain. Nothing stopped his complaining. He called her every name she thought women had been called since time began, but he never told her to stop.
Finally, sometime long after dark, he slept. Sage laced clean bandages over the wounds she'd packed with a poultice of powdered paper and tobacco to draw out the infections. She stood and told Myron to let the fire die down. She knew the count would sleep the night, and tomorrow they'd operate to remove the bullet.
Myron brought her what looked like a tablecloth and draped it around her like a shawl. "No one, not even me, sleeps in the count's house, but I've told the guard to take you somewhere safe.” He patted her shoulder. "I'd never hurt you, dearie, and Luther won't either, unless he has to. He's not cruel for no reason like some of them are”
She nodded and followed the guard down the dark street to the building that looked like a boardinghouse. They went in a side door. He lit a lantern and motioned her forward. Sometime during the day he'd stopped bullying her and started treating her with a small degree of respect. After Charlie and his gang, even a small allowance was appreciated.
"Thank you," she said when he opened the third door they passed.
There, on the first floor was a line of rooms that looked like cells, boarded in on the sides, but barred at the door and window. Inside her cell was a bed with blankets, a tray of food, and a small bathtub surrounded with all she'd need.
"Myron set this up for you. He said after what you did today, you deserved a little peace.” The guard backed away. "I'm the only one who has a key to this cell and the door beyond, so you can sleep until I cum get you”
When she heard the door lock behind her, she knew she was being locked in for her safety. She tossed the shawl over the window and took a bath. Then she ate everything on the tray and crawled into bed, loving the luxury of covers. For the first time in a week she slept soundly.
CHAPTER 18
IT WAS ALMOST MIDNIGHT WHEN BONNIE FAYE FELT HER cowboy pull the reins on his horse and stop. She'd been sleeping in his arms as they'd traveled, loving the blended sounds of the night and his heartbeat. Even though they might not have enough in common to carry on much of a conversation, his nearness made her feel safe, truly safe.
He hadn't said much to her all day, but his touch was gentle. They both knew what was expected. She'd agreed to be his lover until dawn, and he'd promised to give her a night she'd remember.
They'd made love for the last time at dawn, a sweet kind of love that made her cry as a gentle rain tapped against the cabin windows. Neither talked afterward, but he'd held her to him until she'd drifted to sleep.
When she woke, he had the horses ready. The cold, gray morning reflected her mood as she stepped outside. The plainness of his land, now brown with fall and dead all around, made her feel sorry for him. A lonely man on a lonely spread. She fought not to show how she felt, but he probably read it in her eyes. This isolation would be a dull kind of hell for her.
She tried to ride the horse he'd saddled for her, but after a few minutes, it was obvious she knew nothing about handling a mount, so he climbed up behind her, and they'd ridden double, switching horses every time they stopped.
Neither had wanted to eat, and he made no attempt to kiss her when they stopped. It was as if the storm had passed, and they were once again two strangers. He'd left his land holding her tight, but now there was a formalness about his touch.
"Galveston's just up ahead." he said when she raised her head off his chest. "Do you want me to take you to the Ranger station or the hotel?"
For one wild moment she considered telling him to take her back to the cabin. One wonderful night could never be enough. She realized they didn't even know each other. The shyness she'd always had around men blanketed her. She couldn't talk about what they'd done, couldn't even think about it without blushing.
"The station," she whispered. "They'll know about Sage and the Smith boys."
She didn't say anything about how she'd explain the time she'd been gone. She couldn't tell him what it had meant to her. She could have told him their night was her first and probably her only time to be loved, but he knew. He understood what it had meant to her, just as she knew how it had changed him.
She smiled. He'd called her Pretty Lady and touched her as if she were a treasure.
He nudged her head with his chin. "Look at me.” he said. She looked up; the flickering lights of town sparkled in his eyes.
"I want to give you something.” He reached in his pocket. "So you'll remember me and our one night.”
"Oh, no. It's not necessary.” She'd never forget him.
He smiled as if reading her mind, then tugged her hand up and slid a thin ring on her finger. "This was my mother's. It ain't much, but I want you to have it. I've been married twice, but tonight was the first time I felt like…"
He didn't finish. He couldn't find the words.
She looked down at the tiny bands of gold that had been laced together. It wasn't a wedding ring, but it almost could have been.
"Thank you," she managed, knowing he'd be insulted if she even tried to give it back. "I wish I had something for you”
"You gave me enough. I've never been worth much, but for one night I was all you needed”
She wrapped her arms around him, and he urged the horse toward the lights. When they reached the Ranger station, he climbed down and slowly lowered her beside him. For a moment he hugged her as if he couldn't let her go, then he turned her toward the door and pushed her forward.
She took two steps and glanced back.
He was gone. Vanished into the night.
Bonnie fought back tears and touched the ring. He'd saved her; that's all the Rangers needed to know. The rest was hers to hold in her heart.
She'd had her storm to remember.
Walking into the station, she saw the Rangers stand in surprise. When she stepped into the light, they all rushed toward her with questions. Where had she been? How had she managed to stay alive? Was she with Sage?
Bonnie asked her own questions between answering theirs. After almost an hour, the captain woke the Smith boys. They ran to her and hugged her. Bonnie fought back tears, because she was exhausted. She'd never lived so much in such a short time.
"Don't cry." Will put his arm on her shoulder. "We're all right. We was just waiting here until you and the doctor came for us." He pressed close to her ear. "We been taking good care of the mutt and your cat. You'll be proud of us."