Wild Mustang

She stared up at him, her mouth slightly open. He hadn’t before noticed how perfectly shaped her lips were. Not that it mattered. He kept waiting for her to speak, but she seemed dumbstruck.

“Well?” he muttered.

“I—uh—I—” She swallowed and stopped, looking as wild-eyed as a frightened mustang.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded. “It was your idea.”

“Well, yes, but I didn’t mean me,” she sputtered. “I can’t—I couldn’t possibly. No.”

“Why not? It’s not like it’s for real.”

“But you—that is, I—what I mean is, I don’t want to expose myself to—” She broke off, looking away from him.

“Expose yourself to what? Me? Hell, I thought you understood I don’t want anything from you except your agreement to be a wife on paper.”

“I do understand that. But I—”

“You’re scared.”

“No!”

He laid a hand on her shoulder, removing it before she could flinch away. “Then why are you trembling?” he asked. “You remind me of a spooked mare.”

With great effort, Laura pulled herself together. There was no use trying to explain. Shane couldn’t possibly understand why she was “spooked.”

“I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “I just can’t. Shall we get on with our ride?”

They’d made a sweep of one section of the reservation without coming across any mustangs before Shane suggested they start back. Up until then, neither of them had said a word.

“We’ll be taking a day off tomorrow,” he added. “No point in riding in the rain, and it’ll give me a chance to get into town.”

Laura had no doubt it would rain. Even she could now feel the change in the air—which corresponded to a change in her. Though she still viewed his proposal askance, she was beginning to ask herself if she hadn’t overreacted.

Shane didn’t want to get married any more than she did. Surely he’d be amenable to putting everything in writing—separate rooms and all that. Did she believe he’d abide by the written agreement? That was the poser.

Supposing she did believe he would—could she then tolerate the idea of such a marriage?

When they reached the barn, she was still pondering the possibility. Seeing Sage come running out to meet them, her face alight with welcome, Laura’s heart contracted. How vulnerable the girl was. Sage must never be allowed to go through anything even vaguely similar to what had happened to her when she was young. Never!

I’ll talk to Grandfather, Laura decided. He knows Shane far better than I.

Her chance came almost immediately. Sage had been invited to Donna’s house for a sleepover and wanted Shane’s permission. When he gave it, she then needed a ride to her friend’s house, some distance away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t start supper,” Sage said to Laura. “I was going to make chicken enchiladas. Donna’s mom showed me how, and I wrote it down. It’s real easy.”

Laura smiled at her. “That’s good, because I’ve never made them. I can cook, though, honest.”

“Oh, I knew you could cook. I expect you can do most anything. But this recipe is sort of different ’cause there’s no tomatoes in it. You don’t mind having to get supper ready?”

Laura shook her head. “Not a bit. You go and enjoy the sleepover with Donna.”

“Is it all right if I hug you goodbye?” Sage asked, when she had her sleeping gear piled by the door.

Laura responded by hugging Sage. “Have a good time,” she told the girl.

After the door closed behind Shane and his sister, Laura sighed. How long had it been since she’d hugged anyone? Not since she’d last seen her brother and his wife and their son Tim. She hadn’t visited them yet on this trip to Nevada because she’d wanted to start working first.

She walked slowly back into the kitchen and found Grandfather seated at the table with a glass of iced tea. “Sage made you some without sugar,” he said, nodding his head toward the refrigerator.

After pouring herself a glass, Laura sat down across from him.

“You got the look of someone with a troubled heart,” he said.

“It’s Sage,” she said, approaching the subject at a tangent. “She doesn’t want to leave you and Shane and it sounds as though she may have to unless—” She hesitated, uncertain how to go on.

“Unless you marry Shane.”

Laura blinked. How did he know? “Has Shane discussed this with you?” she asked.

Grandfather shook his head. “Sage and I had it all figured out he’d have to marry someone. Problem was, we knew he wouldn’t take on just anyone. Then I had this dream just before you came along. The minute we set eyes on you, Sage and I knew you’d been sent.”

“Sent?” she faltered.

“Yup. You see, that no-account pa of Sage’s got off the booze a couple of years ago, got himself a good job and, I figure, a good woman like my daughter was. I asked a friend who lives down that way to find out who she is, and he says she’s got Miwok blood. That’s one of the California tribes. I don’t say that makes her perfect.” He grinned and added, “But I’m prejudiced.”

“I still don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“Look at it from Judge Rankin’s side. He might figure Sage should have a chance to be a part of two cultures and here she is living on a Paiute reservation when she could be living with her pa and a new stepmother who’s got some of the blood. Two cultures, right there. That’s where you come in. The judge looks at you and says, hey, two cultures right here on the res, why move the kid?”

Why you old schemer, she thought, annoyance mixed with amusement. You were planning to marry me off to Shane practically from the moment I walked in the door. And for all I know, even before. No wonder Sage asked if I was married.

“Did you put Shane up to asking me?” she demanded.

He shook his head. “I know better. I might have pointed out how well you and Sage got along, but you can’t push that stubborn one.”

“Well, he did ask me and I refused.”

“Figured you might.”

Laura blinked at him. “You didn’t think I’d agree?”

“Not till you had some time to think it over. I saw how you got on with Sage—you like her as much as she does you.”

“That’s true. But, still—marriage is another matter entirely.”

“Raised that boy. Never saw him break his word. You set the rules, and he’ll stick to ’em.”

She stared into Grandfather’s wise, dark eyes and decided to confide in him—up to a point. “I couldn’t possibly agree to marry any man. Not if he expected me to actually be his wife.”