Free Jodi Thomas by The Lone Texan Page B

“I wouldn’t be too sure.”
    She wanted to ask Bonnie why she kept calling him Mr. Roak, but she was too tired to think. All she wanted to do was sleep.
    For several minutes the sounds beyond her door kept her awake. Drum moved around and made no attempt to walk softly. Probably just to irritate her, she thought. She heard him look in on the boys and cross to the door, double-checking the lock. Then she guessed he moved to the window, because she thought she heard the rattle of shutters.
    All was quiet for a while. Bonnie’s slow breathing from the other side of the bed had almost lulled Sage to sleep when she thought she saw a shadow walk the ledge outside her open window.
    She didn’t move. They were on the third floor. No one would dare step outside or try to stand on the ledge.
    Then she smelled the faint odor of a cigar.
    The lean shadow crossed again, then sat on the windowsill, half in and half out of her world. He propped his foot against one side of the frame and leaned his head back against the other. The tiny glow of his cigar moved across the midnight.
    She watched him through her lashes and wondered who Drummond Roak was truly guarding, her or the boys. He slept so little she couldn’t help but wonder if he trusted the night or if he were constantly on guard against the unknown hidden in the shadows.
    The thought crossed her mind that this wasn’t the first time he’d watched her sleep. That was impossible, of course. She’d been away, and before that, she lived in a busy house full of people on a ranch that was a fortress.
    Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling. If she hadn’t been so tired, she would have crawled out of her warm bed and given him a piece of her mind. In fact, while she was at it, she’d tell him to stop smoking those cigars. But telling Drummond off would have to wait for another time. She needed rest.
    Closing her eyes, she relaxed and drifted into sleep, knowing that he was there and despite what she’d said to Bonnie, believing that she was safe.
    Once, turning in her sleep, she opened her eyes and saw that the windowsill was empty. Tiny little plops of rain tapped on the wood where Drum had sat. The damp air had also washed away the hint of cigar smoke. She wondered if she’d only dreamed that he’d been at her window.
    For the first time in months, she slept the rest of the night through without waking. There’d been no rounds to make, no husband to check in on, just the peace of a gentle rain.
    The sun was bright when she shook sleep from her head. Sage brushed her hair out of her eyes, pulled on her robe, and poked her head out the bedroom door. Bonnie was the only one there, fully dressed and looking like she’d been up for some time.
    “Morning,” Sage said, feeling a little foolish.
    “Morning.” Bonnie looked up from her mending. “Mr. Roak took the boys and that dumb dog out for breakfast. He told me not to wake you, but the man is having coffee brought up every fifteen minutes so it’ll be hot when you do get up.” She looked miserable. “So far I’ve managed to drink most of it. No sense it going to waste.”
    Sage shook her head slightly, hoping the pieces would fall into place. Since when did Drum have any say over her sleeping habits . . . or her dog?
    Bonnie stood and put the mending she’d been working on in her trunk. “He asked me if we’d be ready to leave by tomorrow. He’s decided to take the boys to Whispering Mountain, so he’ll be riding along with us.”
    “When was he planning to ask me?”
    Sage answered the door and thanked the maid for the coffee. When she turned back to Bonnie, she continued, “You can tell him—”
    Bonnie rushed past the maid. “You’ll have to tell him yourself. I need to be out back for a while.”
    She was gone before Sage could argue.
    After pacing around the room for several minutes, Sage decided leaving tomorrow would rush her, but she could make it. Drum was right about getting the boys to safety, even