He turned his back and locked the door. Sage whirled and fired.
The man crumpled to the floor.
In a few heartbeats, she waited to see if someone would storm the door, but no one did. Still holding her gun as if it would help her, she moved to the man's side, praying he was dead. She didn't want him to be in pain. If he still lived, he might call for help.
Bile rose in her throat as she realized what she might have to do. She might have to kill him again. Her only chance of getting away would depend on her ensuring that he couldn't come after her or yell out.
Her heart was pounding so hard she feared it might break a rib. She'd done what she had to do. There was no going back. As her Apache grandfather would say, her course was set; she had to go with the current.
Lifting his gun from its holster, she prepared to fire again as she rolled him on his back.
He coughed and swore as she raised his weapon. "Hell, Sage, how many times are you going to shoot me for saving your life?"
"Drum?"
Dropping the gun on the bed, she scrambled for the light. The realization that she'd truly shot Drummond Roak didn't register until the candlelight flooded over blood dripping from his arm.
He sat up, his jaw tightened, even though he tried to smile. "I just bought this shirt. Now it's already got a bullet hole in it”
"Shut up.” she ordered, helping him stand. "Strip off that shirt and lie down on the bed."
"I'm not that easy.” He leaned on her. "It's good to see you, even if you do look horrible, honey.”
"Shut up," she ordered again, not believing that he was talking to her as if they just happened to have met. She pushed him onto the bed and cringed when he groaned in pain.
She'd shot Drum. With all the evil around her, she'd shot the one man who would try to save her. So much for following the current.
When he caught his breath, he whispered between clenched teeth. "Great bedside manner, Doc."
She pulled his shirt open and off his shoulder. "Stop talking, and let me have a look at what damage the bullet did." "Don't you mean what damage you did?"
She didn't want to think about what she'd done; she only wanted to fix it. "How long do we have in here before they come?"
He stilled as her hands moved over him. "We got all night," he finally answered. "This is kind of our wedding night. honey."
"Stop calling me honey."
"I heard the captain call you that once." He smiled, his eyes moving down her body. "Somehow, it kind of fits you. Your skin's got that warm glow, like you've been kissed by the sun all over.” He bit back pain before adding, "Sometime when I'm not bleeding, I wouldn't mind finding out if you're honey-colored all over."
Sage pretended not to listen. She had work to do. Blood dripped from a wound on his left arm just below the shoulder. It wasn't as bad as she'd thought; the bullet had gone through without hitting a bone. She crossed to the washstand and found fresh water and a towel that looked to be almost clean. She went back to his side and began doing what she'd been trained to do.
"Maybe as your husband. I'll have time to make sure the sun didn't miss a spot.”
He groaned when she rubbed the towel across the bullet wound.
"I'm not married to you, Drummond. Not even if that was an outlaw wedding downstairs." She felt him flinch as she patted the wound, but he didn't make a sound. She gentled her care and leaned close for a better look.
After she'd stopped most of the bleeding, he whispered close to her ear, "But I paid two hundred dollars for you, honey.”
She straightened suddenly, aware of how near he was and, even wounded, his eyes told her he was very much aware of her. Pulling one of the pillowcases off, she began to make bandages. ''I'll give you the money back when we get out of here. Then you can consider us divorced.”
"I'd rather have you?"
"We're not having this discussion. Turn over on your stomach so I can have a look where the bullet exited.”
He pulled off the rest of his vest, and then his shirt, and then did as she ordered. The sight of his muscular back surprised her, as did the scars that ran across it. Sage put her hand out, almost touching the marks of a long-ago cruelty.
She gently began. "How'd you find me?" If he talked, he might not think about the pain she knew she was causing him.
"I trailed you, and I'm guessing you took care to leave me a sign now and then. A shoe print, a scrap of handkerchief. Each clue told me you were still alive. I could have moved in earlier, but I knew I'd take the chance of them killing you if I fired”
"They wanted me here as a doctor, not as a woman. They treated me with less care than one might a stolen horse." "So, how'd you end up on the auction table tonight?" She shrugged. "I kept waiting for the perfect time to escape. Then I saw a hurting man and had to help. He turned out to be Hanover, the ruler of this little slice of hell. I didn't know how rotted his brain was until I saved his worthless life. When he got better, he objected to me not agreeing to live with him." "You're a hard woman to talk into anything. I almost feel sorry for the fool."
She smiled and began to bandage his wound. "Thanks for coming for me. It would have been days, maybe weeks, before my brothers could get to me, but I knew you'd come”
He twisted as she worked. "You're welcome.” He smiled up at her. "How about we stay awhile and make use of the bed?" She smiled back. "Excuse me for a minute while I reload."
CHAPTER 23
SAGE PACED AS DRUM STOOD LOOKING OUT THE window. They'd talked it over and decided to wait until the gambling was well under way before trying to sneak out. Fifty to two odds didn't sound all that good, but the later it got, the more men would be asleep or passed out.
Sage stopped and put her fist on her hips. "I can't believe you came in here to rescue me without having any kind of plan to get away. I was in enough trouble, and now you're here. I'm not better off than I was on my own."
Drummond was starting to wonder why he'd come at all. Every time she was out of his sight, he forgot how irritating and bossy the woman could be. And she'd shot hind His arm ached, and the wound hurt like hell, and all she'd done was complain. He sat down on the corner of the bed and checked his gun one more time.
He glanced at her blouse, still open enough for him to see the swell of her breasts rise each time she breathed. He could listen to anything as long as he had that view, he decided: honey-colored skin framed in white lace.
"Stop looking at my breasts," Sage demanded without trying to pull her blouse together again.
"I wasn't?" he lied and forced his gaze to her face. She moved closer. "Yes you were."
He fought to keep from looking down. They were at eye level to him, the two most beautiful breasts now almost bare right in front of him. She was torturing him. That was it. Shooting him hadn't worked, so now she'd try torturing him to death.
Since the day he'd met her, he'd thought of how she'd feel beneath him when she became his woman. He'd thought of how her breasts would look, and damn if they didn't appear to be living up to his dreams. Her frame might be small, but her breasts were definitely a handful.
A tap at the door saved him from sure ruin.
"Get in bed under the covers," he whispered as he moved to the door.
She scrambled to follow his order.
"Who is it!" Drum sounded angry, bothered, just like a man who'd been taking his pleasure.
"A fellow at the bar told me he lost a bet to you tonight and said he had to send you up a meal if you won the bid so you'd have enough strength to go all night.” The female voice sounded tired and a bit out of breath. "Do you want it or not?"
Drum glanced back to make sure Sage was covered and pulled his gun. "Leave the tray beside the door.”
"All right.” Dishes clattered.
He waited several seconds, then opened the door an inch. The tray was there. The hallway looked empty. Kneeling down, he kept the gun ready and tugged the food in.