8

 

I want to get caught in the pouring rain. I want the memory, the feeling, of playing barefoot in oozing mud. Let the rain drip off the bottom of my hair and eyelashes.

 

At the early service, inside the church entry, Lanae met Rainn. “Good morning, soon-to-be-brother. Mia’s off to Sunday school already? I missed saying hello.” Lanae gave her future brother-in-law no chance to draw a breath.

He slanted his lopsided grin that accented the lines in his face and went so well with his silver hair. But he kept silent with that indulgent grin.

She looked over his premature gray hair with the curl that Geneva loved and thought for the thousandth time how he was a perfect match for her sister’s red-headed liveliness.

“Listen, I’ve come up with an idea for Frivolities, and I need male input. So I’m inviting you and Eric and my new friend, Sage, to a brainstorming session tomorrow in the loft.” When she paused for breath, she caught Rainn’s chuckle.

“You done yet? What kind of food? Can Mia come?”

“Mia is always welcome. You know that. Moselle’s casserole, my cheesecake, your sweetheart’s coffee—and Geneva will come up with something else.” She didn’t give him a chance to accept. “I’ll see you then. Now I’ll hunt down Eric.”

She found him just inside the sanctuary entrance. After their greeting, she jumped in. “Eric, I need your and Rainn’s advice on a man’s shopping guide. Are you free Monday night?”

“Moselle said something about that idea for Frivolities. Will the mystery man Sage be there?”

“I plan to extend a personal invitation.”

“Count me in.”

The piano prelude began.

“See you then.” Lanae lifted a hand and hurried down the aisle to her seat.

 

****

 

Lanae got caught up in the music. As much as she had tried to concentrate on the sermon, she forgot the message from the pulpit as soon as she left Faith Bible Church.

Mixed in with her newly awakened feelings for Sage was curiosity over the mystery of who Katherine was. Or is. For the first time since finding the bunch of letters, she wondered if the writer could still be living.

As soon as she returned to the loft above Frivolities, she grabbed a colorful bookmark shaped like a flying dragon and used the straight edge to keep her eyes on each entry of the local phone book. She looked at every first name in every surrounding town until her eyes watered and lost focus.

No Katherine, or the initial K, was listed. She did find Kate Rawlins, the town’s infamous gossipmonger. But Lanae couldn’t fathom juxtaposing sour Kate with passionate Katherine.

And, who was Ted? Or is.

“He could be alive as well.”

Just for kicks, she started all over. The two Teds she ran across, she knew. One Ted was ninety and had a passel of relatives around town. The other Ted was the town mechanic, and he was too young.

Should she come right out and ask Sage if either Katherine or Ted was a relative?

Was Sage hiding something from her?

The phone next to her arm rang and she shrieked. Lanae puffed out her cheeks and blew away her startle before picking up the phone.

“Sage here. Guess my nosy daughter invited you out. Think you can be here after lunch?”

She laughed low, with pleasure. “Good morning Sage. Home from church already?”

“Headed there now. How about being here by one?”

“Sounds too good to be true. I’ll be there.”

Lanae needed something to fill the hour before she could head over to the acreage. She went downstairs to the office and played around on the Internet. She wished envelopes with names and addresses had been with the packet of letters, but they’d been banded together in one folded loose-leafed package. She decided to leave the task of questioning Sage about family members to Lezlie.

She looked up the meanings for the word sage. She knew about Russian sage planted in gardens, and sagebrush, of course. She had torn off many a sage leaf to put moisture in her mouth while riding on the ranch. The plant was garden or desert variety, member of the mint family with the meaning “to heal.”

Was Sage in her life as a healing influence? Or was she meant to profit from his wisdom?

She also knew that Native Americans used sage in ceremonial smudgings. A glance at the clock ended her search. It was time to leave for the acreage. On the drive to Sage’s home, Lanae battled her mixed-up emotions.

Oh, Lord, is it a sin to forget the music or message from this Sunday’s worship? Please cover me with the Spirit.

Soon, she turned into Sage’s drive. When she stepped out of her car, she closed her eyes. Right there in the driveway, she raised her arms to heaven. She swung and twirled and burst out into song.

God had given her life. His words spoke from between the covers of her Bible. Did she need to remember a sermon?

When her eyes opened, Sage stood close enough to touch, smiling wide, character lines accented, flax-blue eyes snapping. Yummy.

“I’m not sorry,” she announced. And couldn’t help but smile.

“Didn’t say you should be. Good afternoon. And to clear any misperceptions, your exuberance tickles me.” Sage kicked up his heels and danced his own little bow-legged hop, grinning like a fool the whole time. “Ready for that ride?”

“And then some. Can’t you tell I’m excited to be here?”

The music of the country, the nearness of Sage, opened every sense to her surroundings. Only the tips of nearby trees moved in the gentle breeze, creating a whispered pine symphony. A squirrel’s chatter reached her from the road. Soft leaf rustles rose from beneath the hill.

A grating screech shattered the moment.

“Neighbor’s truck. I told him he needs to fix those brakes ‘cause they sound like a sandpiper on speed.”

She couldn’t help the giggles that erupted.

Sage gave his little joke a twitch at one corner of his mouth. “I’ll take Freckles, and you can mount Snorty.”

Lanae looked at Snorty, who was watching her. “It sure is something, isn’t it, how horses see in degrees, almost in a complete circle around them.”

“Yup. They’re only blind right behind the tail. I think he likes your body language.”

“Hey there, boy.” Lanae stroked his flank then over his withers, down the jawline. He jerked his head up when she untied the reins. She made a soft noise, patted him, and crossed the reins over the saddle horn.

The horse reared his head and took a step back.

“Horses are a flight animal. His instinct is to get away from you.”

“I know. But I’m a fight animal, like all humans. He’ll get used to me.”

Sage cupped his hands to give her a boost up. She settled into the saddle, right at home. She felt the heat from his hand where it rested on the horse, so close to her.

“Snorty sure acted out when I first got him. Had a tender mouth due to chewing on a harsh bit.” He shot her a sharp look in the eye. “So, Ms. Horsewoman, have any idea how to get a horse to stop with another means besides pulling?”

“You sit heavier in the seat instead of pulling on the bit in its mouth. You say ‘Whoa.’”

“Alrighty then. You know what you’re doing. How’s the stirrup length?”

“Perfect, thanks. Look at that. The sun is bright enough that a fly flew out to buzz in the warmth.”

“I don’t care for pesky insects. One of the things I like about winter is that I don’t have to spray.” Sage picked up the reins and climbed onto Freckles.

“I’m sure the horses don’t miss them, especially deer flies.” Lanae clicked her tongue, the “kissing” sound horses responded to, and they loped off.

Sage couldn’t pull off the grumpy personality. The sparkle in his eye softened any negative words.

“I once worked on a Texas feedlot. For a bit. But I missed the Nebraska seasons. I don’t miss the acre-upon-acre of pipe-fenced pens or the muck and dust that went along with them.” Sage gazed off at the horizon. “Those horses, though. Gotta love ‘em. They are seasoned with cow sense, work like a calf cutter’s dream.”

“I can’t put into words how much I miss being around horses. I don’t miss the uncertainty of ranch life. Each year is a fight with the possibility of a low cattle market, drought, and disease. But living with the big sky, the seasons, nature—I believe is living the way God intended us to.”

A cloud shadowed Sage’s countenance. “Did He intend for you to lose your husband? For me to lose my wife?”

“Sage, come on. You’re a Christian, aren’t you? You know God tells us in the Bible that He knows the number of our days. He has a plan for us as individuals. He’s in control. Not us.”

Clouds hid the sun. They shared a study of the sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Sure thing we’re not in control of the weather.” Sage met her gaze and slanted a smile that erased his comment about their joint single status.

“I love the rain,” they said together.

“One time I was out on the back deck on the ranch, and I heard what sounded like rain on a tin roof. As soon as I recognized it, the sound moved.” Lanae raised her face to the sky. “It rained buckets from south to north. And I listened to the progression as it moved over the roof again.”

“Yep. Rain has to stop and start and travel. I’ll never forget the time the sun shined in front of the house and rain fell behind the house.”

“So a little rain isn’t going to scare us away from a good ride, right?”

“Not if it remains a sprinkle,” he agreed. “And it’s not raining now.”

Lanae felt right at home as she learned the rhythm of her mount. She gloried in the warm flesh beneath her and especially in the fact that she was enjoying God’s creation with a man at her side.

She pulled Snorty up in order to follow Freckles where the path narrowed along the creek. When the path widened, Sage dropped back. His leg brushed hers while they rode side by side.

“I’ll probably tell you every time I’m here...” Will I be here often? She pretended to concentrate on where the horse was stepping. “I really do miss the country. Sometimes I mourn outdoor living as much as I mourned losing Keith.”

“Country living can have its drawbacks. There are pros and cons to everything in life.” Sage gave a silent command for Freckles to halt. “Every time I look at this creek bank I think of how my mother died. She bent down to look at a newborn calf, and the heifer butted her into a tree. Mom rolled twenty feet down a rough bank. She belly crawled and dragged herself back up to the top, through the meadow, under the fence, and onto the road. She was a cut up, filthy mess because of the rainstorm. I’ve often wondered how much the flashes of lightning helped her find her way to the house in the thunderstorm.” He lifted his hat, ran his fingers through his short brown hair, settled the hat in place, and then squinted as he remembered. “Anyway, she dragged herself up the long, dirty rock drive. When she got inside the house, she somehow managed to knock the phone off the wall. Hours later, the neighbor from up the road who checked on her every day, found her and called for help. Of course, it was too late. She was already gone.”

“Sounds to me like she went out doing what gave her pleasure in life. Working on the place she loved, doing what she loved to do with her time. Outside, with animals God put in her care.”

“That’s how I’ve always thought about it.” Sage applied leg pressure and his ride took a step. “And funny thing, I can’t help but enjoy a good rainstorm.”

The creek bottom widened and darkened as the water gushed in a faster flow and mud swirl.

“I’ve always had a dream to ride a burro to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.” Lanae raised her hands and face to the sky. The cool kiss of the rain heightened her experience. On her sick days, her heart had soared at the thought of living in the moment. Nothing in her imagination compared to the slickness of refreshing raindrops.

“Well, if you aren’t careful, you’re going to fall into a small cany—“

And just like that, Snorty started up the opposite creek bank. Lanae, surprised at the steep angle, slid off his back. She should have paid attention when the horse started to veer left. She’d failed to let Snorty know she was in control instead of him.

For now, Lanae didn’t even try to stay on the horse’s back. She freed her boots from the stirrups and went with gravity instead. Laughter burbled up and erupted into giggles, so by the time her seat hit the mud, she plopped her shoulders onto the slick grass and gave no second thought to making a mud angel.

Sage dismounted and reached for her, but his warm handclasp was wet, and he couldn’t get a grip. His fingers barely touched hers, yet her whole body kicked into the invigoration of being in the moment, aware of Sage.

“What would you do if I pulled you down with me?”

Rain dripped off the brim of his hat and plopped onto her forehead when he went for a firmer grip.

“I would have spanked Lezlie if she stayed out in the rain like this.” Sage said it with a grin that quirked one side of his mouth. Before a full smile formed, his lips straightened. His eyes darkened to more purple than blue.

Her heart kicked into erratic gear. “For real?” A sudden chill took her by surprise. Compared to the heat Sage put off, the difference was extreme. She imagined blood flowing as hot as lava through her system, the sizzle of ice as it evaporated.

He drew her hand to his chest and wiped the mud against the worn denim. Without breaking eye contact, or even looking to see if her hand was clean, Sage drew her wrist close. His warm breath caressed her palm. Then, he kissed one fingertip. The barely-there touch reminded her of fish nibbling her toes in the creek on the ranch.

Lanae swayed toward him.

At the same time, Sage shattered the moment by letting her go. “We’re soaked to the bone. It’s past time we get back to the buildings.”

The skies opened up, and they were, indeed, drenched by the time they walked ten paces to where the horses waited under the protection of a low-hanging cottonwood limb. At least the rain washed most of the mud and debris off their clothes as they returned.

As soon as they dismounted in the barn, Lanae kept her hand on the horse while speaking to Sage. “Thank you for today.”

The horse’s neck quivered where she ran her hand over the wet velvet muzzle. Snorty’s brown eyes looked upon her with trust. Used to her now, he nuzzled the side of her face.

She crooned, continuing the gentle rub down the horse’s soft neck. “What a nice, handsome boy you are.”

“I’ll get the horses dried off. You can’t climb in your car looking like that. Go on up to the house. Let yourself in through the garage. Lezlie keeps a pair of sweats in that cupboard by the kitchen door. You can borrow one of my jackets.”

“I’ve got a hoodie in the car that’ll work. And thanks again, Sage. Despite the weather, I had a grand time today.”

“Guess I’d call the rain and mud a bonus.” His smile warmed her from the inside out. She half expected steam to rise off her clothes.

Lanae suspected he was surprised he’d had fun. It had probably been a long time since Sage enjoyed a good time with someone besides his daughter and grandson.

At the house, Lanae resisted the temptation to take a walk-through. She couldn’t resist a peek, though. The furniture appeared to be made from pine tree trunks. The neatness and orderliness of the great room came as a surprise.

Her first impression of the house was correct. The inviting stone fireplace took up most of one wall. And made her feel more at home than she knew Sage would want.

 

****

 

Visions of Lanae laughing in her muddy, sopping, worn denim floated through his thoughts while Sage attempted to shake moisture off the saddle blanket.

Lanae had looked up at him, all open and willing, inviting him in for a closer view. Her eyelashes had been darkened and spiked by the rain, accenting the stormy hazel shades of her eyes. It had taken a monstrous effort not to pull her close and protect her from a lifetime of thunder and lightning. Guess not. She thrived on the electricity of storms.

The taste of her earthy skin tempted more exploration.

Then a flash of betraying Becca had shot through him.

Maybe he was attracted to Lanae because her clothes were bright and seemed an extension of her personality. A rumbling chuckle built up and escaped. Except today. She was a mess. Still, all womanly curves and hollows, despite her small form.

Then he recalled the touch of her finger against his lips.

“Get out of my head!” He said to the tack shelf where he kept ointments and wraps for horse injuries. The items were all there, right where they belonged, whatever he needed for muscle strain, fibrous tissue, bites or scrapes to sensitive horse skin.

But Lanae stayed in his head.

She didn’t belong there, horning in on Becca’s spot.

Sage looked for a diversion, tried to concentrate on tack. The snaffle bit he used with a single rein, the bridle, head stall, cinch—all right where they were supposed to be. Too bad he couldn’t order his life in neat rows, arranging events as they struck.

Concentrate.

What could he teach Jax the next time he came out? Each horse’s mouth has a different level of sensitivity. A shank bit takes a little longer to get used to, but if the mouth is tougher, like a guide horse he’d worked with the year before, the outcome was a good one.

Keep it up. Think horses. Not women.

Rather, one particular woman.

He turned back to equine details and tried to recall the movement of one particular horse, an unruly and bossy guide. But when he got used to Sage, the horse had followed him around like a puppy. He mentally went through the process of flexing the horse in circles from side to side, with the goal of getting the horse to look in toward the rider’s knee, while moving in a circular motion. The horse was supposed to stretch its muscles, get all loose and go with the rider.

And just like that, Sage pictured Lanae’s hands on Snorty. She wore her nails naked or light pink. And she kept those fingers occupied with crochet hooks.

What would have happened if he’d joined her in the mud?

“No, man. Don’t go there!”

But she was already there, in his head.

Lanae was reeling him in, the way she should have reined Snorty the opposite direction before her fall.

Sage even admired the way she enunciated her words instead of sounding like she was chewing or didn’t have the energy to finish words without dropping consonants.

“Sage?”

He jumped and whirled. So deep in his head, her approach took him by surprise.

“I was up the road and finally remembered the letters.”

He didn’t take them from her hand, rather nodded to a small ledge between stalls.

“Well, you’re busy...”

He didn’t contradict her. Watched her set the letters where he indicated—on a ledge close to her side.

But contradictions writhed in his head.

“Thanks again for a wonderful afternoon.”

He offered nothing more.

Her smile faded. She turned away. “See ya.”

Sage let her take two steps. “Wait. Look, I’m sorry, but these letters are none of your business.”

“O-K...” She mimicked his frown. “But why are you so upset?”

“I plain don’t get your pig-headed goal to discover who wrote the letters, and what they might imply.” I’ve kept the family secret from Lezlie all her life. I’ll continue to do so with my grandson. He wasn’t going to give the boy an excuse to be mad at the world by letting him know his great-grandpa had been murdered.

And no one had paid.

Well, that was under dispute. It would do no good to anyone to bring what happened out in the open.

Lanae waved once before she backed through the door. Then she was gone.

He opened his ears to the sounds outside the barn, tuned in to her movements as she departed. After her sedan turned onto the road, and he could hear the engine no longer, he snagged the letter packet.

Without so much as a glance, he tossed the letters into a five-gallon bucket he used for a trash can.

There, his family secret was free from exposure.