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Authors: The Lone Texan
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her, pulling her back against the wall of his chest.
Sage knew she should step away. This man wasn’t the right one to turn to. But his arms felt so good that she thought she’d stay if only for a moment. The darkness made the intimacy seem more dream than real.
“I’m fine,” she lied as his hands moved along her arms, gently brushing away the hours of tension. “I’m just tired.”
His fingers trailed slowly down her back then molded along her sides.
She leaned her head against his shoulder and felt the warmth of him blanket her. All the months of hell she’d just passed through drifted over her, and tears she’d never allowed flowed.
When she began to shake, he turned her within his arms.
He didn’t say a word; he just held her and let her cry softly. Her brothers would have thought her ill if they’d seen her like this. Her husband would have thought her weak. But Drum, the man who probably understood her less than any man she knew, seemed to understand.
He held her as if there were nothing more important in his life than giving her comfort.
Finally, she raised her head and straightened. “I’m sorry. I’m fine really.”
He wiped the last tear off her cheek. “You’re more than fine. You’re perfect.”
When she backed away, he let her go, his hand lingering as long as he could on the small of her back. When they reached the door, she turned around and faced him once more. “I’m not perfect. I didn’t cry when my husband died, and now I cry for no reason. Something is cold inside of me, maybe dead. Stay as far away from me as you can, Drum. I’m not perfect; I’m like a plague. Every man I’ve ever cared about, from the first one I kissed to my husband, has died.”
Drum opened his mouth to argue but remained silent as they both heard the tapping of feet hurrying up the stairs just beyond the door.
Bonnie pushed into the room, almost stumbling into them both.
“Doc,” Bonnie whispered, “you got to come quick. Meg’s awake.”
She glanced past Sage to Drum. “And she’s asking for you, Mr. Roak.”
Sage’s last thought before rushing down the stairs was that Bonnie had called Drum Mr. Roak. He’d earned respect in everyone’s eyes tonight, even hers.
CHAPTER 7
D RUM REACHED THE BEATEN WOMAN FIRST. HE KEPT the shock from his face as he looked down at her. The bruising looked far darker, turning half her face a smoky red. The other half looked muddy-water blue, but one of her eyes had opened only enough for him to tell she studied him. Raising her bandaged hand, she touched him as if making sure that he was flesh.
“You’re Roak, the one who saved me?” she whispered.
“I was there. I brought you in for care.”
“You killed the men who were torturing me?”
Drum nodded. He saw no reason to lie. She was there. She knew what he did, but it bothered him to talk about it.
“My boys?” she whispered, an edge of panic in her voice.
“They’re both safe,” Drum answered. “They’re upstairs asleep.”
“Good.” She seemed to relax. “Would you tell me if my Lloyd is dead?”
Drum knew she trusted him to tell her the truth, and he didn’t lie. “Your son Will said he hid his father in the brush so the raiders wouldn’t know.” Drum wished Sage would move from the shadows and talk to the woman. He didn’t have much to tell her that wasn’t bad. “Your boy kept his senses about him. If they’d thought your man was dead, they might have killed you and the little one.”
“He was right. That was the only reason I was kept alive. They were hoping my screams would make Lloyd come in. But he wouldn’t have. We knew almost from the first that they were there to kill us.”
Finally Sage moved to Drum’s side. She didn’t touch him, but she was close enough that he would have known she was there even if his eyes were closed.
“You need to rest, Meg.” Sage straightened the blanket over her patient. “You’ll have more time to talk to Roak
Sage knew she should step away. This man wasn’t the right one to turn to. But his arms felt so good that she thought she’d stay if only for a moment. The darkness made the intimacy seem more dream than real.
“I’m fine,” she lied as his hands moved along her arms, gently brushing away the hours of tension. “I’m just tired.”
His fingers trailed slowly down her back then molded along her sides.
She leaned her head against his shoulder and felt the warmth of him blanket her. All the months of hell she’d just passed through drifted over her, and tears she’d never allowed flowed.
When she began to shake, he turned her within his arms.
He didn’t say a word; he just held her and let her cry softly. Her brothers would have thought her ill if they’d seen her like this. Her husband would have thought her weak. But Drum, the man who probably understood her less than any man she knew, seemed to understand.
He held her as if there were nothing more important in his life than giving her comfort.
Finally, she raised her head and straightened. “I’m sorry. I’m fine really.”
He wiped the last tear off her cheek. “You’re more than fine. You’re perfect.”
When she backed away, he let her go, his hand lingering as long as he could on the small of her back. When they reached the door, she turned around and faced him once more. “I’m not perfect. I didn’t cry when my husband died, and now I cry for no reason. Something is cold inside of me, maybe dead. Stay as far away from me as you can, Drum. I’m not perfect; I’m like a plague. Every man I’ve ever cared about, from the first one I kissed to my husband, has died.”
Drum opened his mouth to argue but remained silent as they both heard the tapping of feet hurrying up the stairs just beyond the door.
Bonnie pushed into the room, almost stumbling into them both.
“Doc,” Bonnie whispered, “you got to come quick. Meg’s awake.”
She glanced past Sage to Drum. “And she’s asking for you, Mr. Roak.”
Sage’s last thought before rushing down the stairs was that Bonnie had called Drum Mr. Roak. He’d earned respect in everyone’s eyes tonight, even hers.
CHAPTER 7
D RUM REACHED THE BEATEN WOMAN FIRST. HE KEPT the shock from his face as he looked down at her. The bruising looked far darker, turning half her face a smoky red. The other half looked muddy-water blue, but one of her eyes had opened only enough for him to tell she studied him. Raising her bandaged hand, she touched him as if making sure that he was flesh.
“You’re Roak, the one who saved me?” she whispered.
“I was there. I brought you in for care.”
“You killed the men who were torturing me?”
Drum nodded. He saw no reason to lie. She was there. She knew what he did, but it bothered him to talk about it.
“My boys?” she whispered, an edge of panic in her voice.
“They’re both safe,” Drum answered. “They’re upstairs asleep.”
“Good.” She seemed to relax. “Would you tell me if my Lloyd is dead?”
Drum knew she trusted him to tell her the truth, and he didn’t lie. “Your son Will said he hid his father in the brush so the raiders wouldn’t know.” Drum wished Sage would move from the shadows and talk to the woman. He didn’t have much to tell her that wasn’t bad. “Your boy kept his senses about him. If they’d thought your man was dead, they might have killed you and the little one.”
“He was right. That was the only reason I was kept alive. They were hoping my screams would make Lloyd come in. But he wouldn’t have. We knew almost from the first that they were there to kill us.”
Finally Sage moved to Drum’s side. She didn’t touch him, but she was close enough that he would have known she was there even if his eyes were closed.
“You need to rest, Meg.” Sage straightened the blanket over her patient. “You’ll have more time to talk to Roak
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