He couldn't figure her out. She melted to molten fire in his arms. The way she kissed him, he knew their lovemaking would be great, but she couldn't settle on the idea that they belonged together. She had to know that he'd give his life for her, but something inside her wouldn't accept him as her man. He decided that she had this ideal of the perfect man, and he didn't measure up. Maybe no one ever would.
Knowing Sage, he wouldn't have long to guess what was wrong with hint She'd had no trouble telling him in the past.
They stopped at noon at the edge of the hills, where they could look out on a wide valley below. Ten more miles, and they'd be back to town. He unwrapped food he'd stocked for the trip: breads from the bakery and cheese from Elmo's place. He sat watching the sky while she walked around, checking her horse and washing her hands in a nearby stream.
Finally, she settled down beside him. "I think we need to set a few rules.”
"Like no hitting.” He rubbed his ribs. "Your elbow is sharp."
She shrugged. "All right. I have to admit I didn't act properly back there, but all of you were trying to decide my fate, and I don't want anyone doing that. Most of my life I've been screaming and fighting to hold on to free will.”
Drum studied her. "All right. The first rule is: Sage decides what Sage wants." He grinned when she looked up at him. "I don't want to own you, Sage, I just want to be your man.”
"What does that mean?"
“It means I'll be the one you turn to when trouble comes. I’ll be there if you need to fall apart, or cry, or even beat on someone. I'll be the one who holds you all night."
She shook her head. "For the first eighteen years of my life, I had three brothers riding herd over me, plus Martha always telling me how I should act. I think that's why I took off to Boston. I wanted to follow my own dreams and make my own mistakes without brothers around to tell me how to live my life. I wanted to make something more of myself than to just be some man's housekeeper and cook. I wanted to set my own rules. You may want to be my man, but I'm not interested in being anyone's woman.”
He leaned back in the grass and said, "All right, Sage, you set the rules. You would anyway."
She thought about it a minute and decided to ignore the edge in his tone and take him at his word. "Rule number one: You don't try to tell me what to do. I know you've been assigned to watch over me, and Captain Harmon would probably be the one I'd answer to if I refused to let you do your job. So you can stay on guard from sunup to sundown, but I go and do as I please. And, I promise you. I'll be sleeping alone.”
"Okay.” he said without opening his eyes. "If that's your rule. I'll follow it”
"Rule two: You will not touch me at any time, and in turn, I'll try to keep my hands off of you."
"That might be harder for you than you think, honey.” he said.
She ignored the comment and moved on.
'Rule three: Stop calling me honey.” She hesitated and added, "And don't tell anyone about what my grandfather did. I don't want everyone thinking we're really married, because then in two months they'll think we're divorced. I just want to be the new doctor in town, not the subject of every sewing- circle discussion.”
"Fair enough.”
She waited a half second, then asked, "You have any rules you want to throw into the pot?"
"I've got one rule. Only one.”
"All right.”
"At dusk, the few minutes between light and dark, you have to kiss me every night we're married, and you have to do it like you mean it, no pecks on the cheek. I'll hold you, but I'll not force you. You can step away after one kiss if you want, but until you step away, you're mine.”
"Fair enough?" she echoed his comment to her rules. She could kiss him good night every night. She might even enjoy it, but that didn't mean that she'd go to his bed.
He stood, dusted off his trousers, and offered a hand to help her up. Just as she reached for it, he dropped the offer and walked away. He didn't have to say it; she knew he was following rule number two.
She climbed on her horse, and they rode out. It was almost sunset when she saw her place and the lights of town just beyond.
When they reached the porch, Drum swung down to the ground and moved to her side as she climbed down. "Good night” he said. "I'll take care of the horses”
He waited.
She stood on her toes and kissed his mouth. "Good night," she said.
He touched her hair, and returned her kiss with more politeness than passion.
She moved away. "I need to get some sleep. If Bonnie got everything put away, we may open tomorrow.”
"My room's the last door at the back of the hotel. When you're ready to come, I'll be waiting.” He touched the brim of his hat with two fingers and left her without another word.
CHAPTER 35
THE NEXT FEW DAYS PASSED IN A BLUR FOR SAGE. They opened the clinic, and everyone in town who had a boil, ingrown toenail, or infected sore dropped by. Four women showed up in the last stage of pregnancy. They didn't want to be examined, just wanted to leave directions to their houses and to ask if the doc took trade as payment for delivery.
A dozen children were brought in, one with a broken arm, one with an infected gash on his foot, and the rest with aches and pains. Sage kept the one with the infection, because she feared he wouldn't keep it clean if she sent him home.
Will and Andy went to school during the day and helped with chores at night. They'd serve meals to the folks staying in the clinic and help Bonnie clean up. When the weekend rolled around, the boys offered to stay, but Bonnie and Sage insisted they go to Whispering Mountain and enjoy a few days off. Andy was fitting in well to his new life, but Will's eyes were filled with sorrow, and even when he tried to smile, Sage saw worry on his face.
Bonnie had her quarters next to the clinic, and Sage stayed upstairs in a tiny room next to the boys' loft room. By the third day, the kitchen filled with payment in trade. They now had three chickens in a cage out on the back porch, two quarts of milk, a meat pie, more firewood then they'd use for the winter, and someone had oiled up Bonnie's buggy so that it no longer squeaked down the street. They were taking care of the community, and the community was returning the favor.
Drummond and Daniel Torry took turns standing guard on the porch. Sage often had to call them in to help move a patient. Drum liked to stand at the door and watch her work, but Daniel swore the smell of blood bothered him. Both men reported in to the area marshal staying in town. If Anderson's Glen was ever going to become a real town, a great deal of work had to be done. So the marshal ruled over the organization and did his best to clean up crime. Almost every day, he'd drop by and ask Daniel or Drummond to help him. The town needed a sheriff, the marshal complained, but he couldn't find anyone to take the job.
Through her study window, Sage had heard him talking to Drum a few times. The marshal spoke to him with respect, as if Drum were older and wiser, not ten years his junior. Sage also noticed the marshal talked to Daniel Tony as if he were a deputy, telling, not asking.
Each evening Daniel left in time to have supper in town with men that he'd later spend hours gambling with. Every night Drum would let Bonnie talk him into joining them for a meal. He'd talk to the boys and help them with their homework, then as Bonnie lit the lamps, he'd stand and say good night.
Sage knew that was her cue to walk him to the door. In the shadows of the hallway, she'd follow his one rule and kiss him good night. The first few nights it was done awkwardly at best, but as the days passed, she began to look forward to the ritual he'd insisted on.
He'd wait until she touched his arm, then he'd turn and kiss her soundly with his hand on the wall above her head. When she pushed on his chest, he'd step back without complaint. But each night he repeated his invitation for her to visit his room.