High Country Hero

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Sage stifled the laugh that bubbled up in her throat. “Nobody has figured me out, Mr. Lawson. Not my father, not my mother. Mama and Papa let me go to medical college because they were afraid I would run away if they didn’t. But they didn’t understand.”

Now that her medical studies were concluded, the one thing she missed was being kept busy. Too busy to dwell on why she sometimes felt restless, as if her skin had shrunk overnight. She liked probing the mysteries of diphtheria and puerperal fever, liked finding out what was true and what was old wives’ tales or just superstition.

But what was beneath her own surface was a mystery she didn’t want to poke into.

“And just what have you figured out?” The words leaped out of her mouth before she could catch them.

He twisted to face her again. “You sure you want to know?”

“Of course. Though I doubt very much your observations will prove insightful.”

“Well, you’re not gonna like this, but here goes.” He looked straight into her eyes. “You’re all locked up inside. Afraid to feel things.”

“I most certainly am not! Whatever gave you such a ridiculous idea?”

He held her gaze without smiling. “The fact that you swim with your eyes closed. Like you don’t want to…I don’t know, let yourself go and enjoy it, maybe.”

“That is presumptuous, Mr. Lawson.” To give herself something to do, she flapped the reins, then realized every step the mare took brought her closer to him.

“You can call me Cord, Doc. You’ve seen me half-dressed, and I’ve seen you, well, vice versa. I think maybe we’ve been introduced good enough.”

“Mr. Lawson!”

He didn’t even blink. “You’re right about the ‘presumptuous’ part, though.” Again, he twisted to scan the trail ahead. “I don’t have a lot of fine manners to trip over,” he called over his shoulder.

“You are certainly correct on that score,” Sage murmured.

“So,” he continued, “I just say what I think. I’m not wrong very often.”

Sage took her time about answering. She drew in a long breath, expelled it, drew in another. “You are wrong this time, Mr. Lawson.”

“Cord,” he reminded her. “You know, I’ve only seen you smile three times in two days, Doc. Once was when you swam the river. The point is, you were a little scared, but it felt good, didn’t it?”

She swallowed instead of replying. Her father had taught her it was bad manners to argue on the trail, but she was so mad she felt like heaving the canteen at him. Tears stung her eyes. She straightened her shoulders.

“Well, Cord, I am not smiling now.”

“You think about it, Doc. I know you’re riding with me to do good for your fellow man. Might be this journey could do you some good, too.” He moved forward at a faster pace and this time did not look back.

Sage reached behind the saddle and grabbed the first thing her fingertips encountered. Her camisole. She didn’t alter her pace, didn’t make a sound. But that old feeling of restless hunger was back, flooding her entire being until she wished she could just jump out of her skin and escape.

She used the garment to dab at her eyes until they reached a grassy clearing. When Cord called a halt, she wadded up the muslin and stuffed it under her saddle.

Chapter Six

The trail wound up through the timber, then reached a lush green meadow fed by a gurgling stream. The doctor kicked her horse into a canter and caught up with Cord.

He didn’t want her any closer. He resisted an urge to dig in his spurs and gallop away from her, but he guessed she’d eaten enough of his dust for one day. The wind was picking up, so it was even worse now.

For the next quarter mile they rode side by side through the camas and meadow rue without saying a word. The quiet didn’t seem to bother her, but it got under Cord’s skin in a hurry. Not as much as those undergarments, fluttering from the back of her saddle in the warm afternoon wind, but enough that his already parched tongue felt like a dried corncob. He couldn’t wait until it got dark and they made camp. He’d take a couple of pulls at the whiskey flask, roll himself up in his blanket and forget how raw and hungry his nerves felt. Another hour until sundown. He had to hold it together until then.

He glanced at the sky, then at the thick forest of maples and blue spruce covering the mountains ahead. The wind lashed the branches and the sighing sound set his teeth on edge.

Her voice at his side jolted him. “Tell me something, Mr. Lawson?”

“Depends what you want to know.” He knew his reply sounded surly, but some instinct told him to duck and run, not answer questions. She was full of questions.

“I want to know who you were chasing. Before you needed a physician’s services, I mean.”

“I don’t think you do.”

Her eyes blazed like two purple amethysts. “Don’t tell me what I want! I hate it when someone thinks for me.”

“I still don’t figure you want to know.”

“But I’m interested! I’ve always been curious about things I don’t know.”

“That why you chose to be a doctor?”

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact. My baby brother di ed of diphtheria when I was ten. The day we buried him I decided I wanted to know why he died. I wanted to know what a doctor would have done to save him.”

Cord’s gut tightened. “Some things in life you can’t control.”

“It is ignorance that leaves one vulnerable. At least that is what I fervently believe.”

He snapped his jaw shut and counted to ten. “You’re one of those goddamned ‘truth will make you free’ types, is that it? You think if you dig up enough facts, you can just take charge of the outcome. Choose hell or happiness. Life or death.”

“Of course, within reason. Things you know are the means to understanding life. It follows that if one understands, one can correct what is wrong. Illness, for instance.”

“Let me tell you something, Doc. Real life is mostly about feelings, not facts. Feeling hungry. Feeling tired. Feeling the sun on your back. Feeling good, or…feeling like you want to die.”

She sniffed. “That is an extremely limited philosophy.”

“Maybe. In the long run, it’s the only one that matters.”

“Oh?” Her eyes bored into his like two blue bullets. The wind lifted her hat brim, and she jerked it down tight. “And just what exactly makes you so sure of that?”

“Managing to stay alive for thirty-seven years.”

“But…what have you done with those years?”

“Laughed some. Cried some. Mostly tried to enjoy them.” He didn’t think she really wanted to know about the black times.

“Is that all?”

“That’s all. How old are you, Doc?”

“Um, well, I’m—” She drilled him with those eyes again. “That is a distinctly personal question, Mr. Lawson.”

“Yeah. But I’ve seen you with half your duds off, so you want me to guess?”

“I will be twenty-six in December,” she said quickly.

“And what have you done with your years?”

She straightened her spine just enough to make him smile. “I have used them to investigate. To understand about life. I have studied. Learned.”

“Have you enjoyed yourself?” He wanted to add something about sensual pleasure, but one glance at her tightened mouth and he thought better of it.

“Reasonably, yes. I have a purpose in life. An honorable calling. I am…content.”

He snorted. “Content! You don’t understand jack squat about life, Doc.”

“I do, too! I understand a great deal about living a worthwhile life. You are a footloose thirty-sevenyear-old drifter who doesn’t belong anywhere. It is you who doesn’t understand about life.”

He gritted his teeth. “You think so, do you?”

“I think so, yes. I know so.”

“Well, you’re dead wrong, Doc.” She was a prissy, stuck-up female with a brain too big for her britches. He clenched his jaw even tighter. “And if the opportunity presents itself, I’ll show you what I mean.”