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Sage told him about her trouble as they ate. Drum sat back, silent as ever. She got the feeling he didn't trust the cowboy, but the man seemed to be going out of his way to be friendly. He even made coffee and shared a bag of biscuits he said he'd made himself.

"Was the woman you were with that morning on the walkway also with you in Shelley's place? I remember her being tall."

"Yes." Sage fought back tears. "But I don't know where she is. I hope she's somewhere safe."

"I'm sure she is," he said. "She's probably waiting for you right now in Galveston.”

"I hope so," Sage said as she curled up on the bedroll Drum had laid by the fire.

"Sage?" Drum said after a few minutes.

No answer.

"She's asleep," he said as he turned toward the cowboy. "I don't believe I caught your name."

"Brad.” the cowboy said, "Bradford Summerfield."

Drum met his gaze across the campfire. "You know more than you're saying about that robbery back at Shelley's place, but I reckon you weren't part of the gang, or you'd have stayed around long enough to know that Sage had been kidnapped”

Brad didn't say a word, and he wasn't fool enough to reach for his rifle.

"Mind if I ask you what you're doing out here in the middle of nowhere?" Drum kept his tone low.

"I'm waiting for my brother. He was supposed to drop by my place a few days ago”

Drum studied the man. He looked too poor to be one of the robbers. From his gear and clothes, Drum would guess this man worked hard for his living. "Your brother named Solomon Summerfield?"

"Maybe, but if you're the law, I don't know where he is, and wouldn't tell you if I did know."

Drum shook his head. "I'm not the law.” He pulled the blanket over Sage's shoulder. "When I heard she was kidnapped, I came after her."

"She your woman?"

"Yes, but she don't know it yet."

Brad smiled as if he understood. "How do you know my brother?"

"I don't." Drum pulled the paper from his saddlebag. "I found a dead man a half mile from the opening of Skull Alley. He had this in his hand.” He passed the note to the cowboy. "He'd been shot at close range in the face. I buried him there."

Brad took the note and stared at it for a while before he said. "I can't read. Could you tell me what it says?"

Drum took the paper. "It's a deed to a square of land west of Galveston called Cedar Hills Ranch."

The big man crumpled to his knee, holding his middle as if he'd been kicked by a horse. He fought to draw a breath.

Drum gave the man time to get a handle on his breathing before he added, "It's made out in both your names. The land is yours now."

One gulping sob came from the cowboy. "I told him not to try to get it back, but he wouldn't listen. He hooked up with a gang for one job. He didn't even want any share of the money; he only wanted the deed from Shelley's safe."

Drum understood. "Problem was, the gang didn't want any witnesses. My guess is they planned to kill him the minute he signed on. They waited until the last day in case a posse caught up to them, and they needed an extra gun. That morning, just outside Skull Alley, they figured they were safe enough”

Drum handed him back the deed. "Just so you know, I would have killed your brother myself for kidnapping Sage if I'd caught up with the gang."

Brad nodded. "I thought I could help him. I'm the one who talked him into filing for the land, but ranch life was too hard a way of life for him. He couldn't have had it more than a year before he lost it gambling at Shelley's place. He claimed he was drugged. I think he was madder about that than about losing the land. I went in that day planning to pull him out if firing started. I wanted no part of the robbery."

"He probably was drugged. I've heard a few complaints about Shelley's place. If a man has anything valuable in his pockets when he walks in, he'd better keep it to himself.” Drum pulled a flask of whiskey from his saddlebags. He'd refused to drink it when he'd been shot because he wanted his head clear if trouble found them. He offered it to the cowboy.

They sat in the night and drank. Brad agreed to stay put for a day just in case Drum and Sage were being tracked. The men didn't become friends, but they respected each other.

Finally, after midnight. Drum lay down beside Sage, but he never went to sleep. He guessed Bradford was on the other side of the fire doing the same.

Drum liked the feel of her all warm and soft next to him. She was his. When she stopped fighting the idea, he planned to make love to her slow and easy. She'd never been handled right by a man, he could tell. She wouldn't take to being bossed or bullied, but once she took to him, he intended to hold her every night for the rest of her life, and when they died, they'd be buried side by side. He might not be her first lover, but he'd be her last.

An hour before dawn, while fog still hung low to the ground, Brad lifted a sleeping Sage up into Drum's arms as he straddled Satan. They rode off, leaving the cowboy alone at the camp.

After dawn, Drum looked back and noticed the smoke. Brad must have built the fire high so that anyone riding within miles would notice it.

If he wasn't careful, he'd suffer the same fate as his brother.

CHAPTER 26

THEY RODE FOR FOUR MORE DAYS, STOPPING AN HOUR before dark each night so that they could cook the game they'd killed along the way. Sage slept in Drum's arms at night. He was awake when she fell asleep and awake when she woke. He didn't want to sleep. He hated missing one hour, one minute, of their time together.

Though he could think of little to talk about, she trusted him more each day, and the silence between them never seemed awkward. They made a good team, both skilled at surviving.

He enjoyed the way she teased him, claiming he was the worst cook she'd ever encountered. She seemed to be growing younger, shedding a little of the responsibility she'd worn for months. Or maybe he was growing older, Drum thought, from worrying about getting her back safely.

They fought over chores, took turns complaining about how dirty they were, and shared everything.

Though the nights were not cold, they slept side by side. He accused her of fluffing him like a pillow every night until she had him turned just the way she wanted him, and she swore he petted her in his sleep, running his hand along her leg or arm several times a night.

Drum was smart enough to deny it, but he didn't stop. His favorite pastime after she slept was to move his hand along her spine until she bowed against him, and he felt her soft intake of breath against his throat. There were other places he wanted to touch her, but he wanted her awake.

To his surprise, he slept more hours beside her than he usually slept. When he did wake in the darkness, he'd listen to make sure all was quiet around him, then he'd relax, enjoying the feel of her close. She liked to put her hand over his heart when she slept. He liked to turn her in her sleep while he whispered against her ear.

"Roll over, honey," he'd say. "Your back is getting cold” She'd moan in protest, but she'd turn on her side and cuddle into his arms.

He also loved when she woke. She'd stretch against him, then pull away as if embarrassed at her boldness. He'd keep his eyes closed long enough to let her think she had to wake him.

When they reached Galveston in mid-afternoon, Drum had to fight the urge to pull the horses and turn around. He didn't want their time to end. He couldn't stand the thought of her not being in his arms when the sun went down.

Every time he groaned, she laughed, promising him everything would be grand as soon as they had a bath and food.

Sage insisted on going to the Ranger station before they took time to clean up. She was worried about Bonnie and the boys. When Drum lifted her down in front of the station, he noticed a tear running down her dirty cheek.

"They're all right," he whispered, reading her unspoken worry.