Chapter Fourteen

"How's your hand?" Zachary's sudden question drew Samantha's attention from the flowing long grasses around them and the mesas in the distance. Her eyes went to him as he rode strong and tall in the saddle of his black gelding.

"It hurts," she replied honestly as she flexed her fingers and felt the tightness in her red knuckles.

"I'd say so. That was quite a punch."

Samantha felt her cheeks redden. She was aware of just how horribly the entire town must be speaking of her as they gathered at the church service and discussed the way she had knocked the preachers' wife's head off right there on main street. "Yes, well, I was quite angry."

A low chuckle rumbled from Zachary's chest. "I'll do my best to never make you angry. I'm not sure my glass jaw could handle one of your fists."

Samantha didn't have to fake the surprise she felt. "Zachary Marston, was that a sense of humor?" She smiled. "I wasn't aware you had one of those."

Zachary's eyes met hers and he flashed another slow lazy smile, identical to the one he had shown her nearly a week ago when they'd been standing outside the train station. Once again, the sight of that smile, the dimples it placed in his cheeks, the light it put in his eyes, stole her breath. "I don't."

Samantha found herself laughing and it felt good. She felt so lighthearted and free in that very moment and she had Zachary to thank for it.

But she knew the lightheartedness couldn't last. She had to tell Zachary the truth about herself, why she'd run to Hackney, who she was running from, and why being around her could be dangerous for him. The man had a right to the truth and if that truth made him walk away from her—Samantha would simply have to go back to a life with no real hope for a future—the life that her father and Clinton Matthews had chosen for her.

She didn't want to do that right now, however. Right now she wanted to enjoy his company at least a little longer. "What brought you into town today?" she asked him instead.

Zachary picked at a tangle in Blaze's black mane, his gaze locked on his task. "You. I mean.. I uh wanted to see you."

Samantha bit her lip as her stomach fluttered a bit. "Oh."

"I've missed you, Sam."

"Sam?"

Zachary shifted in the saddle and suddenly appeared so awkward that Samantha nearly laughed. "I'm sorry... I..."

"Don't be." She steered Athena around a large boulder. "I've never been called Sam."

"I won't do it if you don't like it."

Her face flamed red as she bit her lip and averted her gaze. "I like it." Then she smiled. "And I missed you too."

Samantha knew she had to tell him the truth about her past. She had to let him know his very life could be in danger if they continued spending time together. After their near kiss on main street, (the thought of which had a heat spreading low in Samantha's stomach and causing her to squirm a bit), Samantha knew that there was an attraction and a growing something between them—but if Clinton Matthews did find her, Zachary's life could be in danger simply because they were growing closer.

It would be best to tell the man and end this now, no matter how badly her heart ached at the thought of watching Zachary ride out of her life.

"Zachary, I think I should warn you about something...."

Zachary's brown eyes narrowed as he studied her. "Warn me?"

Samantha guided Athena toward a nearby stream, surrounded by long grasses, budding wildflowers, fluttering butterflies and buzzing bees. Stopping at the edge of the stream, she let Athena have her head so the mare could get a drink. "You were worried about me being near you because of what gossips might say—but you being near me could very well endanger your life."

She didn't look Zachary's way but she didn't need to in order to know that his gaze was on her. "I'm gonna guess this has something to do with why you're in Hackney?"

Her stomach twisted in knots, Samantha drew a deep breath through her nose and nodded. "I haven't spoken about who I am, where I'm from, or why I'm here to anyone."

"The Morgans?"

Samantha shook her head. "Took me in without those details. They were good people who simply saw someone who needed help and helped her. I never felt safe enough to tell anyone the truth."

"You feel safe with me?"

Samantha watched tiny minnows as they darted beneath the shimmering surface of the stream. "Yes. But I shouldn't. He wouldn't hesitate to kill you."

"I'm not real easy to kill."

"I've been running for so long, Zachary."

"Running from who?"

A shiver ran down Samantha's spine. "I don't say his name," she countered, rubbing her arm. "He's the devil and if I say his name it might make him come."

"I've faced devils before, Sam. I'm not too afraid of them anymore." Zachary pulled a cigarette from his pocket, struck a match and took a long draw after he'd lit it. "Why are you running from him?"

Samantha felt strange speaking about her past and her family and Clinton Matthews. She had kept all those things to herself, hidden and locked inside for so very long. She slid from Athena's back and walked to a boulder, taking a seat upon the rough sun-warmed stone. "I grew up in Kansas in a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere. I can remember laughter and happiness when my mama was alive. She was a good woman married to a man who didn't deserve her and made her life so much less than it could have been. No matter how bad things got though, mama was a light. Happiness seemed to follow her."

"Like mother like daughter," Zachary's deep voice stated quietly from where he still sat atop Blaze.

Samantha swallowed hard against the emotion that lodged in her throat. Zachary's simple words, stated with such quiet assurance, meant more to her than she could explain. Samantha had loved her mother dearly.

"My papa was a drunk and a gambler, but not a good gambler. We went hungry quite often and did without most more than we did with because of his addictions. It was hard but Mama somehow made it all work—then she got sick. After we buried her, pa got worse. And I had one brother, older than myself, he inherited pa's addictions. I tried, Zachary, I tried to keep our home standing, keep clothes on our backs and keep food in our bellies. I took what odd jobs I could sewing and cleaning but there was never quite enough. Then my brother was killed in a drunken saloon brawl over a game of poker. Can you believe that? A young man lost his life over a game of cards."

Samantha was quiet a moment as she thought of the unfairness of life and blinked away tears. Zachary didn't speak—or move as far as she could tell from the corner of her eye. He simply sat there on his black gelding and waited for her to speak again.

Taking a deep breath, she did. "After that, there was no saving my father. He would stay gone for days, sometimes weeks at a time. I had to hide money from him. I had to learn to farm and hunt and, while I'm not proud of it, I sometimes had to beg to ensure we had a home and food. One day about five years after my mother passed away, I was just coming back from a ride on Athena. A hard rain had hit unexpectedly so I raced straight into the barn without paying attention to the house. In the back stall I found Charles—an elderly man who had worked for my family for longer than I'd been alive, even though it had been years since I'd been able to pay him any real wage."

A tear did slip down her cheek then as she thought of the kind old man and recalled the terrible way he'd been left in that stall with his head smashed open. "Charles was dead. Someone had hit him in the head and broken his skull. I immediately thought of my father and ran to the house. There was a cart outside I hadn't noticed before and when I went inside he was there sitting at the kitchen table with my father, drinking coffee and discussing something.

"I can't explain it but there was something about the man. The air around him just felt.... Evil. My father was scared and when his eyes met mine, I saw his guilt. The stranger informed me that he had killed Charles and that he was there to collect the debt my father owed him—me."

"You?"

Samantha swiped desperately at her eyes. She did not want to break down. Not in front of Zachary. "My father had been gone nearly a week not too long before that on a drinking and gambling binge. That's when he'd met this man who had loaned him money to gamble with—which my father had then lost and been unable to pay back. So, he had told him he had a pretty daughter that would make a good wife for him and that he could have me to cover the debt."

Saying that out loud hurt worse than it should have. The truth of her fathers' betrayal ripping at her heart. "I told the man my father had been drunk and foolish and I wasn't going anywhere with him... My father told me to run. The man told me if I did he would kill my father.... Maybe I should have stayed.. Maybe I should have went with the man.. If I had my father would still be alive..." Samantha wrapped her arms around herself as her body began to shudder with the force of the emotion she was holding back. "But I didn't. I ran. Though I did look back just long enough to see him murder my father...." Her breath caught but somehow Samantha pushed on. "I hopped on Athena and ran into the woods and I just kept running. For two years I ran. He found me several times and I would have to run again. Then I ended up in Hackney and the Morgan's took me in. It's been six months and so far, he hasn't found me here. I have spent so long running and pushing everyone away... I've had no one and I haven't felt safe in so damned long..

"You have to get away from me, Zachary... if you don't, he'll kill you too. The last two years he's killed so many people in his efforts to find me. I don't want him to kill you...."

Samantha couldn't hold it back any longer. Every ounce of sadness, despair, hurt, fear, and longing came tearing from her chest as she buried her face in her hands and began to weep.

***

Blaze stomped with agitation as Zachary sat frozen in the saddle and listened to Samantha's sobs. He tried desperately to wrap his mind around the emotions swirling in his mind and his gut.

Rage was first and foremost in his mind. Rage at her father, rage at whoever the man was chasing her, rage at knowing someone out there thought they had some claim to Samantha. Desperation was also there. A desperation to protect Samantha, to keep her safe, the way he hadn't been able to do for his family. Samantha was light. She was the first damn thing to give his soul its first taste of happiness in such a long damn time. He couldn't lose her. He wouldn't lose her. No man was going to do her harm or take her away.

His gaze dropped to her as she sat upon that rock. Her red curls were loose and falling around her shoulders as she kept her face buried in her hands and her shoulders heaved violently with sobs that were body wracking yet nearly silent. Zachary might not be able to do anything to fix her past, he might not be able to do anything in this moment about the man who was after her, but those tears? That was something he could remedy.

Slipping from the saddle, Zachary went to her quickly, scooped her off that rock, sat down in her place and pulled her body into his lap. He cradled Samantha's shuddering body against him, buried his face in her hair and whispered soothingly into her ear while she pressed her face into his chest and clutched at his shirt.

Five years Zachary had spent cold, distant, surrounded by nothing but the harsh, ugly side of life. But with this woman held in his lap, Zachary knew he hadn't been as lost in that darkness as he'd once thought. He had once thought that he would never again be happy—that any chance he had for a future had died with his family and the years of rage that had followed. Samantha made him want more than that darkness.

He had already known that Samantha was sunlight and now he was realizing that maybe she was his sunlight. She was his future. He was going to comfort her, he was going to protect her, and he was going to hope that she would let his world orbit around her always.

It was a long while that Zachary simply sat there holding Samantha against him as she sobbed and trembled. He stroked her red curls and whispered assurances that he would never let anything happen to her—a promise his gut rebelled against making but that his heart believed completely.

Finally, Samantha gave one final sniff and raised her head. Zachary reached in his pocket and pulled out his bandana, drying the dampness from her cheeks. He let out a growl and grew colder when she pulled herself from his lap, walked to the waters edge and stared down into the trickling stream with her arms wrapped tight around herself.

Zachary knew he needed to speak. He wished he was better with words. Letting out a sigh, he shoved himself to his feet. "Sam...."

"Zachary, I'm serious. He will kill you just the same as he killed Charles, my father, and countless others as he's chased after me. No matter how badly I want what's growing between us it won't work."

Zachary swallowed hard. She wanted what was growing between them to continue to grow? She felt it too. Damn.

He strode forward, took her shoulder gently, and spun her around. Those green eyes, so red and swollen from her tears, were full of questions as she gazed up at him. Zachary couldn't think of anything to say so he didn't say a thing.

Instead, he dropped his gaze to her mouth, swooped down, and caught her lips with his. Instantly, Samantha stiffened and Zachary was preparing to tear himself away from her when her body suddenly went soft, liquid, and molded against him.

A soft moan left the back of her throat as her fingers clutched at his shirt and she rose on her toes. Zachary drank her in. He breathed in the scent of lavender and tasted the sweetness of her lips. One hand went to the back of her head, burying his fingers in all those thick red curls. The other hand ran down her back and he felt her trembling beneath his touch.

Zachary lost himself in the scent of her, the taste of her, her gentle moans, the way her hands clung to him, and her body molded against him. All else disappeared. Zachary was consumed. Her eager yet submissive response to his kiss and his touch pleased Zachary—not because he wanted Samantha to be obedient but because he wanted her to trust him, to have faith in him, to know that he would take care of her.

He let his hand move to her low back and pulled her flush against him. When she felt the proof of his want pressed against her, Samantha let out a gasp and pulled enough to look up into his eyes. Her face was flushed beneath her dusting of freckles, her chest rose and fell rapidly, her lips were red from his assault on her mouth, and her green eyes were dark with her desire.

Zachary had been a long time without seeing desire on a woman's face, without feeling a woman's desire in the air around him, and he knew that no other woman would ever do again. Samantha. Her name had consumed his thoughts since the first night he had met her—and it always would.

"I'm not running scared from you, Samantha."

"He could kill you..."

"Who?" Zachary tucked stray curls behind her ear. "I'll protect you, Sam."

She looked so confused. So lost. Hopeful and yet terrified. "I don't want you to protect me, Zachary. You don't understand how evil he is.. how cruel.."

Zachary put his hands on her cheeks, cradling her face gently. He held her gaze. "I don't scare easy and I'm not afraid of him. What I feel for you—this pull between us—I'm willing to let it grow if you are. I've spent the last five years living hard, Sam. Living in darkness. You're a light. I won't let him hurt you and he won't be good enough to kill me."

He saw her open her mouth to speak. He could see the argument in her eyes. He spoke before she could. "Your days of running are over, Samantha. I'm in your life now and I'm not going anywhere. So tell me who the hell I'm supposed to be so damn afraid of."

Her body sagged against him as if a giant weight had suddenly been lifted from her. "Clinton Matthews. His name is Clinton Matthews."

Zachary's hands fell to her shoulders. His blood ran cold in his veins. It wasn't until Samantha squirmed a bit that he realized his hands had clenched her tightly. Quickly he removed them and took a step back.

He wasn't sure how he found his voice as his body felt frozen and yet red hot with rage all at once. His jaw popped. "What the hell did you just say?"

A/N: I know at least one reader will be happy that there was a KISS! (you know who you are  🤣)  Any guesses on how Zachary knows Clinton Matthew's name? Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter!