When her hand dipped beneath the water, Drum pushed her away gently. "Thanks for the scrub, but I can do the rest."
She winked. "Are you sure? I don't mind. With a man built like you, it would be a pleasure."
He reached across to the coins lying next to his guns and tossed her one. "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks”
She looked disappointed.
Drum dropped his head into the water. When he raised it again, she was gone.
He grinned, wondering how much of her desire was spurred by the need of money. Leaning back in the water, he took a long drink of whiskey and tried to imagine Sage offering to wash his back.
Not likely.
He knew he was wild. How could he not be? He would have had better parenting if he'd been raised by wolves. His mother never even attempted to tell him which one of the bandits who lived in the hole of a town where he was born had been his father. She'd lifted her skirt so often for the price of a drink that most of the time she was so drunk she didn't remember having a child and never thought of caring for one. Other boys had mates; his first memories were of fighting the stray dogs in the camp for food.
Drum let the past he usually kept tucked away flow through his mind: the time he'd been five and had been beaten because he couldn't hold the target still so the drunks in the camp could fire, winter months when he'd hidden in the wood by the fire for warmth, cleaning up his mother when she threw up on herself.
He hadn't even cried when she'd died. He hadn't cared. He'd thought women were useless creatures. Or at least he had until he'd stumbled onto the McMurray Ranch.
Teagen McMurray had caught him trespassing and tied him up for the sheriff. But while he'd waited in the barn, he'd seen a way of life unlike anything he'd ever known. The McMurray men were strong and hard, but they protected and cherished their women, and the women, right down to the housekeeper, cared for others, even him.
Drum had been wiry thin and not fully grown, but they'd fed him and put blankets over him to keep him warm. Sage had doctored his wounds as if it mattered to her whether he lived or died. To this day, he could still remember the feel of her gentle fingers on his skin.
He took another drink, ignoring the burn of the liquor. He'd never seen anyone as beautiful as Sage McMurray. At fifteen he'd fallen hard for her in those few days, and no matter what she did or how much she despised him, nothing changed his mind. He'd asked her to wait for him to grow up so he could be her man, and she'd laughed at him.
He poured another drink, realizing she was probably still laughing at him.
Now she was back in Texas about the time he'd forgotten how many times she'd pushed even his friendship away. She'd married someone else, just like he'd feared she would. She'd never given a moment's thought to waiting for him.
Drum stared at the ceiling. Hell, she'd probably come back to Texas just to remind him how there would never be anything between them.
"Roak!" Like a cannon shot, a booming voice filled the outer room. "You in there?" The door flew open so hard it hit the wall, rattling the entire building.
"What did I get," Roak complained, "a swinging door on this bath?"
Captain Turner Harmon walked in as if he'd been invited. He was tall, with a barrel chest and a good salting of silver hair. His sun-wrinkled face made him seem ageless and indestructible.
The big man didn't bother to close the door. "I thought I'd find you here. I saw that devil of a black horse you ride. There's not another one like him in the state. I figure if Satan's tied up in front of this dump, you can't be far.”
Drum glared at the head of the Texas Rangers. "I'm not here. Every time I see you, I wrestle with Death and his brothers. Get out, Harmon. I'm taking a bath."
Apparently Captain Harmon was deaf, for he showed no sign of being offended. "You look clean enough. Get dressed, Roak. I need you and that lightning gun of yours”.
Roak lifted the whiskey bottle as casually as if they were simply having a drink. "And I've got plans in town tonight”
"Meet me out front. You've got five minutes.” the big man ordered. "Your plans can wait. We've got a real problem, son."
The half-empty whiskey bottle hit the door just as the captain stepped out.
Turner's laughter echoed through the bathhouse. "I'll take that as a 'Yes, sir.' "
"Take it any way you like," Roak shouted back.
"I'll pay for the bottle while you dress.” Turner's words lowered to be deadly serious. "Lives depend on you tonight, Drummond. You've no time to waste."
Drum stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel. He wanted to go back to Sage all cleaned up, but she'd probably only insult him again. Maybe, after talking to her for ten minutes, it was already time to put some space between them. At this rate, they'd spend most of their lives avoiding one another.
He pulled clean trail clothes from his saddlebags and shoved his fine duds back inside. When it came right down to it, risking his life fighting beside the Rangers was probably safer than trying to get Sage to go to dinner with him. He might as well go fight and worry about her destroying him later. Maybe, if he got lucky, he'd manage to get himself killed before he caught up with her again.
Strapping on his holster, he shoved his dripping hair back and could think of nothing but her. He'd find Sage later, and he'd say a few of the things he'd thought about saying to her if he had to hold her at gunpoint to do it. Turner wouldn't have come after him if it wasn't something important. The captain was right: Sage could wait a few more days.
As he walked out of the bathhouse, he thought of her in black. Maybe he should give her time to mourn before he did what he'd thought of doing since the first time he'd seen her. He had told her that night in the barn that he would make her his woman someday, and the years hadn't changed his mind.
Now the biggest problem he faced seemed to be changing hers.
CHAPTER 3
THE PATTERSON GRAND HOTEL STOOD LIKE A CASTLE between smaller, duller hotels and storefronts. Sage couldn't believe she was smuggling a stray dog up to the third floor of one of Galveston's best, but there was no helping what had to be done.
The poor animal was too weak to take care of himself, and someone would only shoot him if they saw him hobbling down the street. She'd never doctored anything but humans and horses, but she guessed the dog had a few broken ribs. He'd whimpered until she'd bandaged him. His filthy black coat looked even dirtier with the white cotton wrapped around his thin body.
When she'd left him with Bonnie and circled around to the front desk to pick up her key, she'd been surprised that Drum had ordered a bath and tea to be sent up as soon as she arrived.
The clerk apologized that there would be a delay, saying the girls would be free soon and could take care of it.
Sage slipped back to the back stairs where Bonnie waited with the dog wrapped inside a sheet. "We have to hurry.”
"Can we get arrested for this?" Bonnie whispered as she lifted her side of the makeshift litter in one hand and her cat cage in the other. Awkwardly, she started up the stairs. "Because I've heard what they do to women in jail, and I'm guessing it would be double bad in Texas.”
"No," Sage answered, then whispered, "At least I don't think so. Besides, I've got a brother in Austin who is the best lawyer in the state. Travis would get us off"
Bonnie paused to catch her breath. "Meaning no disrespect, Doc. I've heard you talk about your brothers for years, and I know they're fine men, but they can't walk on water. My guess is, if you keep looking for trouble, you'll finally find a problem they can't get you out of."
Sage laughed. "Wait'll you meet them. Not one man in the state stands as their equal.”
Bonnie frowned. "That'll make it mighty hard for you to find another husband.”