been a boy, nowhere in the outlaw camps had ever been safe but the shadows. He’d learned early to disappear at nightfall, when the drinking started, and never sleep where anyone could find him.
He moved farther into the moonless night, thinking of the woman who’d just died. She hadn’t said a word about her own life; she’d worried about her boys.
Swearing softly, he realized she had a right to worry. If they had no kin, the boys would be on the streets before her body was in the ground. Only, he’d asked what he could do to help, and with her last breath she’d told him. He had to keep them safe, and doing so would probably get him killed.
Drum smiled. For as long as he could remember, he’d been making a list of what would kill him. At first it had been all the animals and half humans in camp. Once he’d started to roam, Apache in the area made several additions to the list when he kept stealing their game. Then, of course, there were the McMurray men, Sage’s big brothers. Teagen, the oldest, swore once that Drum was worse than any of the plagues of Israel. Tobin, the youngest brother, had given him the meanest McMurray horse on their ranch in payment for a favor. He’d been so sure Drum would kill himself on the horse that he’d slipped a double eagle inside the saddlebag to help pay for Drum’s funeral.
And Travis, the middle brother . . . Drum drew in a deep breath. Travis had found him a job. Correction: the most dangerous job in Texas. Drum had made that death wish by showing off one night to Travis and his Ranger buddies. He not only was fast with a gun and accurate but, thanks to good night vision, he was as good in almost total blackness as he was in daylight.
He outshot them all that night, and now they paid him well for doing what none of them dared.
Lighting a thin cigar, he leaned against the railing and got back to the problem at hand. How was he going to keep the Smith boys safe, when he could barely manage to keep himself alive most of the time? He knew nothing about taking care of kids. The only role models he’d ever had on how to be a man were the McMurray brothers, and they occasionally took turns arguing over which one of them got to shoot him.
Even in the darkness, with his head full of worry, he sensed Sage was near before he heard her footsteps behind him. He waited without turning around until she halted next to him.
For a moment she didn’t speak, she just stood beside him, then she asked, “What did Meg need so desperately to tell you?”
“That her boys are in danger. Great danger. She wanted me to get them somewhere safe.”
“Relatives?”
“I asked. Both boys said they had none. They’d only been out here for a year, and before that, they were in Virginia for a while. Will said they kept to themselves. The boys couldn’t name their nearest neighbor.”
Sage brushed his side as she folded her arms. “Do you think there is someone trying to kill them?”
“Yes,” he said, wishing he didn’t. If he could convince himself they were in no real danger, maybe he could find someone to take them in and walk away. But Drum made a point of never lying to himself.
She twisted and leaned against the railing. “I hate losing someone. Sometimes I feel like I’m playing a game, doing the best I can, and I still can’t win. The angel of death seems to hold an extra ace.”
Drum knew she was talking more to herself than to him. He tossed his cigar and put his arm around her shoulder. “You did the best you could.” She felt so right, close like this. He had to fight the urge to crush her to him.
When she didn’t comment, he tugged her away from the railing and kissed the top of her head. She had no idea how long he’d waited for her to come back. She’d probably laugh if he told her about how he dreamed of going up to Boston and seeing her. Sage was the one dream he let himself believe in.
Without giving it much thought, he leaned down and kissed her gently, a