"Have any idea what day it is?" Roak asked.
"Nope. I lose count when I'm not in town to be reminded.”
"Me too” Roak answered. "But I think it's the twenty-ninth. You think your pa would take me in?" Drum asked.
"He might, but if you're thinking of hiding in the wagon, how are you planning to get out? Going in among the boxes might work, but the guards are bound to notice three of us in the wagon coming out”
"I think I can find how to get out. I found a back tunnel when I was a kid. I slid down the side of one of the walls north of here. Problem I have is that I don't think I could climb that ledge and, if I did and managed to get Sage out and back down, they'd spot my horse from above. There's no cover for a mile. We'd be sitting ducks.” He thought about it for a while, then said, "We ask your pa when he comes by. It'll be the quickest and safest way to get in: then I'll worry about getting out."
"My old man will probably let you ride if you got money and we convince him you're not the law. He hates lawmen, says they're a plague to business. Claims he can smell them. For half my life he was a preacher, then when Ma died, he set the Lord aside and decided he'd campaign for the devil selling whiskey. In a way, I guess he's still recruiting, just for a different location.”
"I got money," Drum answered. "And I'll take a bath first light to wash any smell away."
Daniel laughed. "Mind if I go back to sleep? I'm out of whiskey, so all I got to do is dream of my next drink. My pa told me once that whiskey don't make nothing better. I agree, but it sure blurs the eyes so that the problems don't seem so bad”
"You going to talk all night?" Drum liked the young Ranger, but he could see trouble coming his way one day if he kept drinking.
Daniel put his hat over his head and within minutes he was back to snoring. Drum didn't go back to sleep; he had plans to make.
CHAPTER 20
THE GUARD NAMED LUTHER MARCHED SAGE BACK TO Count Hanover's house the next morning without a word. She tried talking to him, but he didn't answer.
She found the count sitting up in his bed, eating a breakfast of toast and tea.
His eyes were more alert. He watched her as she walked into the room. "You look better today” he said. "Myron tells me the bullet is still embedded, so your work is not done. I do feel better, however. I suppose I have you to thank for that."
"You look better," she answered truthfully. He had a bit of color in his cheeks. They'd made a little progress yesterday.
He waved his tray aside. "The bullet still hurts like hell, but the poultice you put on and the lancing of the festering wounds has eased the pain some." He nodded, offering her a seat beside his bed. "Today you'll operate”
"Yes," she said. "And then you'll let me go, correct?" He frowned. "Of course. As soon as I'm well”
It wasn't much of a promise, but Sage knew better than to push the point. She waited until early afternoon when she had the sun's light in the windows. The count, despite all his talk of wanting the surgery, grew more and more hard to talk to as the day aged. She was glad when she started the opium. If he'd had to wait another hour, he probably would have had to kill something or someone.
There was a good chance she could heal the wounds on his back, but the poison in his mind would still be there. He saw himself as ruler of his tiny kingdom, and he allowed no one to question him.
Myron acted as her assistant, and Luther watched her every move. If she cut too deep and left the count paralyzed, she had a feeling she wouldn't have to worry about getting home.
She wasn't aware of time passing until Myron lit the lamps. Sage forced her hand steady as she worked as fast as she could.
Finally, the bullet pulled free of bone and tumbled out. Next she had to clean the wound and stitch him up. When she finished, they didn't offer to take her back to her cell; the guards assumed she'd stay beside the count's bed all night. Myron offered her supper and a blanket.
Sage slept in a chair between checking the wound and giving more opium. By daybreak, fever had set in, and her next round of fighting began.
Myron did what he could, but he was not a nurse. He made sure she had fresh water, clean towels, and left trays of food, which she never had time to touch.
It took two days for the fever to break, and when it did, the count was weak, almost helpless. She fed him soup, changed his bandages, and listened to his ramblings. Once, he grabbed her hand and kissed it as formally as if they'd been introduced in court.
Finally, he slept soundly.
Sage crawled into the overstuffed chair and did the same. When she woke the next morning, the count was staring at her. "You saved my life”
"Then I can go?"
He smiled as if catching her in a lie. "No. I've decided I have need of your services.” He closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't lower myself to mix with the whores very often, so you'll get no diseases from me. You'll have the run of the house in daylight, and when you're not in my bed, I'll lock you in a fine room at night. You'll have new clothes and whatever you need within reason. It'll be my gift to you for saving my life”
Sage had been half-asleep when he'd started and couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I'm not interested in marriage.”
He laughed. "I'm not offering marriage. At least not like you think. We do have a kind of marriage here. If a man claims a woman, no other man can take her. It's a strict rule, or we'd have fights over females all the time. You'd be mine. No other man would bother you."
"I'm still not interested." She stood. "I'll check your bandage, make sure you're not bleeding, then I'll be on my way. I can buy my own dresses”
He didn't move, but she saw the change in his eyes, the kind of insanity that comes when someone believes he has complete power.
He tapped his cane on the floor, and the guard appeared. "Lock her up” he said simply.
Luther looked confused but took Sage's arm.
The count glared at her. "I'll ask you again tonight, but let me warn you, if you don't agree, you'll be very, very sorry. No one, man or woman, refuses me”
She wanted to say she already was sorry. She should have let him die. But he was like a wounded animal. She couldn't be sure what he'd do. Maybe if she went away for a few hours, he'd come to his senses and realize she'd saved his life.
Luther didn't say a word as he took her back to the cell. He'd seen what she'd done for the count, but his job was to follow orders.
No bath or food awaited her when she stepped into her prison. Sage curled on the bed and felt along the hem of her petticoat for her little gun. She'd shoot him tonight if she had to, but she'd not live with him.
She almost laughed. She'd just spent three days fighting to save a man she was now planning to kill. There was no downhill from here. Her life had to get better.
Just to prove herself wrong, Sneezy's thin face appeared at the barred window of her cell. After his verbal torturing on the trail, she'd hoped never to see the man again.
He giggled as he stared at her. "I've been thinking about it. I think I should burn you before I kill you. Burns hurt real bad when they bubble the skin, and I've heard tell the screams echo for days in this canyon”
"What happened to your face?" she asked, noticing the dark bruise along his forehead.
"Luther hit me with a rifle butt for no reason” He touched the spot as if he'd forgotten about it. "It didn't hurt all that much. Not near as bad as the burns are going to hurt you. There's a big party tonight. The whiskey wagon is here. Once Hanover and that pet dog of his, Luther, down a few, they'll forget all about you. When the gambling starts, I'll get a key and come pay you a visit. I owe you. You won't be so high and mighty when you smell your own skin burning.”