"I wasn't planning on it," he lied. "If the boys are safe, I plan to leave before dawn to hunt. The least I can do is bring game in for the meals."
"All right” She turned to leave.
"Sage," he stopped her with one word. "I didn't mean to make you so mad back there. I just don't like those words."
"I understand.” It was her turn to lie.
"Good," he said, knowing she didn't. "Can we go back to being like we were and forget about it?"
She didn't answer. She just walked away, and he had a feeling the answer was no.
For the next three days, they walked around one another. He hunted, brought in meat, and she visited with the women while she watched the boys. As always, she learned of cures they used and doctored those who would let her help. Each day more herbs dried on poles beside her tent.
The only ones enjoying themselves were Will and Andy. Will was a natural diplomat. His easygoing manner and willingness to accept others served him well. Andy's ready smile made him friends, even if he did have trouble with the language. By the fourth day, he'd given up trying and began teaching English to the Apache.
Each evening, Drum sat across from Sage, watching her in the firelight. Here, among her mother's people, he could see the trace of Apache in her. With her hair in braids, she looked just as beautiful as she had the day he met her when she'd been all dressed up like a proper lady.
She never said good night to him, but Will and Andy always went down to the water with him to wash up before turning in. Drum got in the habit of telling them stories from books he'd read, but he never let them stay too late. Sage might need some time alone, but he didn't want her to worry about them.
They'd been in camp more than a week before he finally found himself alone with her. He'd returned to his campsite by the water to find her washing out the boys' clothes. For a while he stood watching her, wishing he could touch her. He needed her near as dearly as he needed air, but he wasn't about to tell her.
Finally, he walked to the water and squatted down five feet from her. "Talk to me, Sage. I miss you”
"I don't have anything to say and, if I did, I'd probably use the wrong words, and you'd bite my head off."
"I didn't bite your head off."
"Yes you did." She kept working, beating the clothes as he was sure she would have liked to beat on him.
He moved a few more feet away for safety and changed the subject. "God, how I've missed touching you. Sometimes at night I can almost feel your skin. You've got the softest skin in a few places. Like just under your breasts. I-"
"Stop it," she snapped. "You said you wouldn't speak of such things."
"Me? You're the one who didn't keep your word. You forgot about my one rule.”
"I didn't forget. I decided you wouldn't be interested." He frowned. "Doing my thinking for me now. Doc?"
"Well, somebody needs to. You obviously don't waste time doing any."
He took a step toward her and noticed the braves standing behind her at the tree line. Four men, all with arms folded. All watching. They might not hear or understand what he was saying, but he had no doubt that if he laid one hand on Sage, they had orders what to do.
Drum backed away. "You know, Sage, lately, I'm starting to believe in reincarnation.”
She looked up at him as if he'd lost his mind.
"I figure I must have had an earlier life and done something terrible. That's why I've got to go through this life attracted to only one woman in the world and she determined to either kill me or drive me insane. No matter how I look at it, wanting you is terminal.”
She didn't look like she cared.
He fought down his irritation. "But we made an agreement by your grandfather's time clock, and I've lived up to my half. You don't have to even talk to me, but I want you to meet me at the stand of oaks between here and the camp at dusk and live up to your word."
She stood and walked away without even looking back.
So much for being forceful, he thought. She'd come or stay in the camp, whichever she liked. He had a feeling his demands had very little to do with it.
How could he tell her that he didn't want to own her, or boss her around, or control her? He just wanted to be with her as an equal. But part of Sage was still the princess of Whispering Mountain, and part of him was still the outlaw kid. Until she saw him as her man, nothing would really change between them, even if he did kiss her.
Drum stayed away from the camp most of the afternoon. If his mood got any blacker, it would block the sun. He rode in and tied Satan to one of the oaks just as the sun was touching the horizon. Turning, he watched the sunset, not allowing himself to stare at the camp to see if she was coming.
He didn't wait long before he heard her steps, but he didn't move until she touched his arm. He turned and kissed her with all the longing he'd felt for days.
She was cold in his arms for a few seconds, then she warmed little by little. She wasn't kissing him back, but she wasn't protesting. He kissed her as tenderly as he could, even though every muscle in his body wanted to crush her against him.
When she pulled away, he fought for a moment before letting her go. She didn't say a word. They turned and walked toward the campfire. They weren't touching, but he no longer felt the cold. As usual, they hadn't made peace, they'd only drawn a truce. It wasn't what either one of them wanted, but it would have to do.
As they ate, he said a few words to her, and she nodded. She passed him a slice of meat, and he thanked her. Drum spent the night alone, in thought. There were so many things about her he admired. He even found her temper fascinating to watch. The fact that she didn't like him most of the time didn't bother him; that fact hadn't changed in years. The fact that she wouldn't sleep with him did. He knew she wanted to. Maybe she was waiting for him to say the right words, but he wouldn't draw her in with fancy talk. If she came to him, she'd come for one reason: she couldn't stay away.
The next night she met him again. When he kissed her, he felt her warming in his arms. The kiss lasted a long time before she pulled away. As before, she turned without speaking to him.
"Good night," he whispered.
She didn't answer.
The following evening, she came to him wrapped in a blanket for warmth. Fog had moved in, making them seem even more isolated in the stand of trees. He gently pushed her against the trunk of the oak and opened the blanket. Then, leaning, he pressed his body hard against hers as he began the kiss.
She lifted her arms, enclosing them both with the blanket. He deepened the kiss as his hands brushed along her ribs. She reacted, pulling him to her and returning his kiss with passion. He laughed at the slight moan she whispered into his ear as his hand moved over her breast.
She was hungry for his touch. His wild Sage of fire could not stay ice for long.
As the sun's gray light faded and the oak branches shaded them completely, he slowly drove her mad with his caress. One thought crept in with all the feelings raging in his mind and body: He wondered if they could go a lifetime without talking and live each night like this. She was liquid fire in his arms, playful, loving, and demanding, and he was her mate.
When she pushed away, he let her go, even though every part of him wanted her to stay. She staggered, still out of breath.
"I'll walk you back," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her forehead.
"No," she said. "I'm all right."
He put his arm around her shoulders. "I'll see you to your door.”
Thanks to the fog, they moved through the camp without seeing anyone, even though the sounds of people moving and talking drifted around them. Tonight the meal would be taken in tepees.
As they rounded her tent, he pulled her between the thick racks of leaves and plants she was drying. "I have to kiss you again. I'm not ready to say good night." He cupped her face. "Do you mind?"
"No," she answered, opening her blanket once more. "I'm also in the mood for more”