Forty-Four

Zachary's nerves danced in his stomach as he sat atop Blaze with Samantha at his side on Athena. Their house was finally completed. He had kept her away the last week while the furniture and decorations had been put in. He'd done his best to make it look like a home she would be proud of. Never in his life had Zachary hung curtains or arranged furniture but for Sam he'd done both and more. He had made up beds, laid out rugs, arranged pots, pans, dishes and decorations to create a home she would be proud to live in. Samantha had lived most of her life in a rundown cabin in the woods and the rest in brothel and hotel rooms. She deserved a real home—and Zachary was proud to give it to her.

Her laughter rang out and Zachary quickly turned his attention to her and as always he found himself mesmerized. Those full red curls shimmered in the late afternoon sun. Her freckles shone on her red cheek and that smile put those crinkles beside her nose as her green eyes lit up and she laughed at Creed as the pup lifted his head from the basket he rode in and snapped at a bumble bee.

"He'll learn his lesson when one stings him," Zachary warned, a smile spreading across his own face.

Samantha waved the bee away and patted Creeds furry head. "He's just protective."

"Good. I knew I liked him."

Samantha smiled and Zachary's heart thundered. Damn that woman got to him. He was still thinking about how lucky he'd gotten when she gasped. "Zachary, it's beautiful!"

Zachary turned his gaze forward and saw their home coming into view. Fresh white paint covered the walls, the shutters were painted black in sharp contrast and behind the wraparound porch was their bright red door. Never again would Zachary have to come home and walk through another goddamn black front door.

"I hope you like the inside." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "I should have let you style it, but I wanted to surprise you."

Samantha graced him with a smile and the love shining out of her green eyes nearly knocked him off his horse. "I'm sure you did a good job, Zach."

When they reached the house, Zachary slipped from Blaze's back before helping Samantha from Athena. He knew she didn't need the help but he looked for any excuse to touch her soft body—and the fact that she waited for his help let him know she enjoyed it too.

She lifted Creed from his basket and sat the pup on the ground and he immediately took off for the barn, yipping and wagging his tail. The pup had developed a rather interesting relationship with the gray shire mare named Betty that Zachary had bought to pull the wagons and plows. The two animals seemed to have become best friends.

Pulling his attention away from the Australian Shepherd pup, Zachary motioned for Samantha to go toward the house. He remained a few steps behind her and waited with nerves eating at his stomach. He really wanted her to like what he'd done. It was stupid. He should have let the woman put her own home together—but he'd wanted to do something for her. So, he had taken all the things she had picked and he had done his best to take those items and turn their barebone house into a home.

Samantha was unnervingly quiet as she entered the house and looked around. Her gaze went all around them, taking in the work Zachary had done. The yellow curtains Sam had picked were draped over the windows, her copper pots hung from the hooks in the kitchen, and a red checked table cloth covered their large kitchen table.

Samantha reached up and ran a finger along one of those copper pots before moving into the living room. A soft sofa and matching cushioned arms chairs sat before the fireplace. A soft quilt, something she'd been excited to buy when they'd been in Anbarina, was draped over the sofa.

Zachary wished Sam would say something. Did she like what he had done or had she had other plans and ideas for the space? "We can change anything you don't like," he offered.

Samantha still didn't speak. She continued her inspection of every room of the house. Zach took his rifle off his back, leaned it against the side table and settled himself on the sofa to simply wait for her. He was supposed to be a man with strong nerves who didn't fear much—but not knowing what was going through Sam's mind as she walked through their home was testing his resolve.

Her soft footsteps came behind him and Samantha's arms were suddenly draped around his neck. Her warm breath teased against Zachary's ear causing the nerves in his gut to be replaced with hot desire for his woman.

"Our home is perfect," she whispered, those full lips as hot as brands against his skin. "Thank you."

Zachary turned his head and caught her lips with his in a tender caress. "Anything for you, Sam."

She pulled away and nipped at his neck. "Anything?"

Zachary's fists clenched as he fought the urge to grab the woman by the arm, yank her over the sofa and have his way with her right here on the soft cushions. "You damn well know it."

She traced a finger along a cold metal bullet slid into the bandolier strapped across his chest. "I believe I'm ready to test out that shower. Could I get my big, strong husband to come wash my back?"

Zachary rose fluidly to his feet and stalked around the sofa. Samantha watched him her green eyes darkening and her teeth grazing across her full bottom lip. "If I come in that shower with you, I won't be stopping at washing your back."

She batted her lashes several times, feigning innocence. "Are you going to wash my front as well?"

Zachary couldn't stop the laughter that rumbled from his chest. Sam's laughter rang out as well and then she turned on her heel and raced toward the bathroom. Zachary wasted no time in chasing after her.

***

"Do you really like the house?" Zachary asked as they lay curled up around each other on the porch swing some time later. The darkening evening around them was peaceful and quiet. The only sound was the occasional moo from the nearby cattle and Creed's quiet snores as the dog slept below the swing.

Samantha's bare body shivered, her wet curls causing her to feel a chill in the air. Zachary held her tighter, wrapping the quilt higher around them, nearly burying her beneath it completely. She smiled. He was always so protective.

"I love it, Zach." And it was the truth. Her heart swelled knowing how hard he must have worked to get every single detail put together just right in an attempt to please her. She knew he had done it all on his own—not allowing anyone to help him put it all together. Despite being busy with the new cattle they'd acquired and finishing up repairs on fences and outbuildings, he had taken the time to make a home for them. Zachary Marston was truly the best man that Samantha knew—and she loved seeing him become more and more the man that Clinton Matthews had nearly destroyed.

Safe and secure she lay there with her husband, never having felt a peace like the one in his arms. She could feel his love, his happiness, and it made her heart feel lighter knowing she had helped give that to him.

Zachary grunted his approval at her assurance and kissed her hair. She rested her head against his bare chest, listening to the sound of his beating heart and teasing the dusting of black hair that covered him with her fingers.

"How much longer until Timothy and Eleanor's house will be done?" she asked.

"A month at least." Zachary sighed, fatigue plain to hear in his voice. The man was working himself too hard. Readying their house, helping build Timothy's, and getting the ranch up and running once again. "The house they chose has two stories and is a bit more difficult to build than ours was."

Samantha chewed her lip a moment. She knew what she wanted to ask but wasn't sure how she would talk Zachary into it. "Might as well say what you want to say," he encouraged. "Your ears are starting to smoke."

Her gaze went upward. "And here I was thinking about how kind and charming you are."

Laughter rumbled from his chest beneath her ear. "Two words no one will ever use to describe me." He gave her a squeeze before sliding some damp curls from her face and kissing her brow. "Now what's on your mind?"

Might as well just get it out there, Samantha decided. "We have plenty of extra rooms here, Zachary."

"Mmhm," he grunted in acknowledgment.

"Rooms we're not using." His next grunt of acknowledgement was much more suspicious. Samantha sighed. "We should ask Tim and Ell to come live with us until their house is done."

"We should?"

Zach's voice was quiet and Samantha avoided his gaze by staring out over their land. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because they are family, this ranch is theirs too, and they're living in a hotel. Timothy is having to make the trip out here every day to work on the house and leave Eleanor alone in town where she sits at the hotel alone most of the time."

"She has Doctor Reynolds to keep her company. And that woman Catherine. Plus the brothel women...."

"Doctor Reynolds is busy between work, training Catherine for the job at the office, and..." She blushed a bit. "Uh..."

"Romancing?" Zachary offered, a smile in his voice.

Samantha cleared her throat. "Yes. Romancing Catherine. Caroline is busy running the saloon and brothel and the other women are busy working there. The...."

Zachary cut her off when he laid his hand over her mouth. "You're right. We'll invite them tomorrow. Now, I'm starving let's cook supper."

Samantha smiled behind his calloused palm. Zachary Marston was nothing if not consistent. He had heard enough about it, didn't care what more there was to say, had ended the conversation whether anyone else was done with it or not, and had moved on to the next topic.

"I'll get dressed and cook something," Samantha said as she stood up, bringing the quilt with her and keeping it wrapped tight around her bare body—leaving Zachary sitting upon the swing wearing nothing but a lazy smile.

"I didn't know you knew how to cook," he stated, acting as if he didn't notice the way, Samantha's eyes roamed over his muscular frame, taking in the scars, the lines, every inch of him that she had already memorized a hundred times.

Samantha's tore her gaze away from him and focused on the wall behind his head. "Of course I can cook. I'm a woman of many talents."

Moving so fast, Samantha had no time to register he was coming, Zachary came to her and wrapped her tight in his strong arms. She could feel the heat of him through the blanket she was wrapped in and felt herself tremble. "I'm well aware of your talents," he assured her.

Samantha attempted to remove herself from his arms but she would have had better luck picking up a train. "Let's get dressed, eat, and then explore those other talents."

Zachary chuckled as he scooped her up bridal style. Her arms instantly went around his neck and he pressed a hungry kiss to her lips before pulling away and letting out a growl. "Not in that order"

***

Anxiety was eating a hole through Jenson's stomach when he saw his boss's house come into view. Shit. Damn. Fuck. He shouldn't have gotten drunk and run his mouth about what he'd seen—who he'd seen. And Samuel had been far too eager to go rushing to the boss with Jenson's drunken confession.

What had Samuel been thinking?! There weren't very many of the original gang left—and it was damn near impossible to find new members thanks to the ghost that had been haunting them all for the past five years. Things had been calm for a while now, why the hell would Samuel want to go and stir up that hornets' nest once again?

Now Jenson had been summoned to see the boss and he knew it was going to spell disaster. The way he saw it, if that bastard was leaving them alone, they should leave him alone. He hoped that his boss would agree with that logic—but Clinton Matthews had never been a man to let bygones be bygones.

Arriving at the house, Jenson slid off his sorrel mare and hitched her to the post. Wiping his sweat slicked hands on his pants, he headed for the front door. Before he could knock, it was pulled open and the butler, an older man named Edgar greeted him with a stiff smile. "The boss had been waiting for you."

"I got here as quick as I could."

"I'm sure that won't lesson his temper."

Yeah, Jenson had already suspected as much. He followed Edgar through the house to the sitting room where a tall, thin silhouette in a black suit stood with his back to them looking out the window. "Hello, Jenson."

"Hey boss."

"You can go now, Edgar."

Jenson found himself alone with Clinton Matthews. Clinton turned slowly and Jenson swallowed hard. Clinton was an ugly man. Thin to the point of being gaunt, dark greasy hair that was always a tad too long and unruly, pock scars littering his cheeks, and blue eyes that were so light they were nearly translucent. Even if he wasn't a cold blooded killer, just the sight of him would give people nightmares. But Clinton Matthews was a cold blooded killer. Hell, so was Jenson. And if they didn't just let sleeping dogs lie, their sins were going to come back and haunt them.

Without a word, Clinton grabbed a decanter of scotch and filled two small glasses. Keeping one in his hand and holding the other out to Jenson, he waited expectantly. Jenson took the offered glass, careful to still the trembling in his hand.

"Let's have a seat and chat, shall we?"

Clinton's voice was polite, his expression welcoming, and his posture at ease but something was simmering below the surface. Jenson had known him long enough to see what was the mask was hiding. Clinton was angry—very angry.

Following his boss to the arm chairs, Jenson sat down in one while Clinton took a seat on the leather sofa. "I had a rather interesting visit from Samuel."

Jenson took a sip of the scotch in his hand. "I've never found visits with him to be something I'd call interesting."

A small chuckle left Clinton's lips but his expression never changed from cool indifference. "He says you might have some news for me."

Jenson sighed, wrapping both hands around his glass. "I was in Anbarina a couple of weeks ago and I might have seen someone we know."

A tic moved Clinton's cheek as his eyes narrowed slightly. "Might know?"

Jenson swallowed hard. Might as well get it all out and be done with it. "I saw Zachary Marston. He was in Anbarina with another man and two women—it looked like one of the women might have been a new wife."

Clinton slowly sat his scotch glass on the table in front of him, sat back on the sofa, and adjusted his suit jacket. His expression was unreadable. Silence reigned for several long moments. "I had hoped he was dead. I had hoped someone had finally bested Zachary Marston and the man was no longer a concern of mine."

Jenson shook his head. "No man can best Zachary Marston..." He realized what he'd just said and snapped his jaw closed.

The chuckle that left Clinton was a cold one that caused a shiver to run down Jenson's weak spine. "Is that right?"

It was too late to back out now. "He's killed dozens of us, boss."

Clinton shoved himself to his feet and strode to the window, clasping his hands behind him. "You think I don't know that?" he hissed. "For five years that man has plagued me like a rock in a shoe. He's taken most of my men from me and made it nearly impossible for me to find new men willing to work—they all fear the great and deadly Zachary Marston."

Jenson wasn't sure what he should say so he said nothing. Any response he made would no doubt be the wrong one. Clinton had started the feud with Zachary when he'd ordered the man's family to be murdered—even those small girls. Jenson shivered. He hadn't had a part in those girls' deaths. He might have raped the woman, but he wasn't someone who hurt children.

Clinton turned back to face him. "And now, according to you, it would seem that he has simply given up his vendetta against us and chosen to return home, settle down, and play house as if he hadn't murdered so many men I cared about."

Jenson nearly laughed. Nearly. Clinton Matthews didn't care about anyone but Clinton Matthews. Jenson was proud to serve the man, would follow him to hell itself and never turn his back on him, but he also knew that Clinton was incapable of caring about anyone.

"Maybe it's a good thing," Jenson offered. Clinton raised a brow and waited for him to continue. "I mean, maybe we should just get on with our lives while Zachary gets on with his. He killed our people, we killed his people, and it could be an endless cycle with more dying if we keep down that road. If he's willing to get off that path, we should to. There's plenty of other places we could be focusing our attention."

Clinton rubbed at his pointed chin a moment before shaking his head. "I never took you for a coward, Jenson."

Shit.

Jenson stood up and held his hands up in surrender. "I'm no coward, Clinton. I just don't want to see anyone else die when there's nothing in it for us. You tried to get your hands on the Marston's money and it didn't work then. It won't work now. We just need to let that ship sail."

Clinton smiled, his thin lips pulling back over rotting teeth. "Spoken like someone with no spine and no real idea how power works, Jenson. Zachary Marston has made a fool of me for years. He's killed my men. Chased me all over the country. People whisper and laugh about my cowardice because I've run from him instead of facing him head on. My men have failed me. Each and every one he has killed has failed me. And now you, who I trusted more than all the rest, are showing your true colors."

Sweat trickled down Jenson's spine. He licked his quivering lip. "Now boss..."

Clinton's voice never raised a bit from his rage was clear to see in those ice blue eyes. "Zachary Marston has to pay for what he's done. I stole one family from him—I can steal another. If I want to hold on to the power and influence I have, I can't allow anyone to stand against me and live to talk about it, do you understand?"

Jenson nodded so hard he feared his neck might snap. "Yes, of course."

Clinton's eyes bored deep into his. "Good." In a fluid motion so fast, Jenson missed it until it was too late, Clinton pulled his revolver. The last thing Jenson saw was the sneer on Clinton's face as he pulled the trigger. 

A/N: Trouble may be on the horizon for our lovebirds! And who else can picture Zachary attempting to hang curtains and arrange pillows? Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter!