Chapter Thirty-Eight

Zachary had never in his life been so grateful to see a sun-soaked morning as he was when Sunday dawned brightly. The last two days had been stressful to say the least which made today all the more peaceful.

No crews were coming to the ranch to work today. No meetings needed to be had in town. He had a full day ahead of him with nothing but the open landscape and Samantha—who was currently laying sound asleep in his arms.

Holding her tenderly against him, Zachary thought back over the last two days. So much had happened and changed. Thomas Williamson was gone and no longer a threat to Sam or any of the women who worked at the brothel—a brothel which was now owned and being run by Caroline. That pathetic coward Leonard Oxley was gone. Zachary had tossed his ass on the stagecoach himself. He thought back to the party and the sight of that gun aimed at Samantha's chest and felt his blood freeze and boil simultaneously. If Leonard had pulled that trigger....

He shivered and buried his face in those red curls, breathing in the scent of lavender and reassuring himself that the woman he loved was alive and well.

His mind drifted again. Hackney no longer had a lawman—not that they'd had any real lawman in Leonard Oxley. He grumbled under his breath when he recalled Roland's suggestion that Zachary become lawman. That would be a cold day in hell. Zachary had enough of his own worries without adding an entire town full of worries to them. And he hadn't been lying when he'd said he didn't care enough about ninety percent of those people to risk not only his life but his sanity on their issues and complaints. Then there was Samantha and the life and family they were building. Zachary had to worry about that and making sure he was around to be a part of it—he wouldn't go putting a big shiny tin target on his chest for folks to shoot at. The townsfolk would figure it out—they could hold a meeting and if no one volunteered for the job they could post a listing in the newspapers. Someone would be interested in pinning on a badge and the authority that came with it.

Thinking on things that had happened at the party, Zach found himself going back to Timothy and Eleanor. Tim had found him at the stagecoach office just after putting Leonard on his ride out of town and had told him that they were indeed engaged. Zachary was happy for his best friend. Eleanor seemed like a decent woman, quiet and reserved perhaps, but that was okay—Tim would talk enough for both of them.

Speaking of marriages....

Zachary felt Samantha stir against him as she slept. She turned slightly and his gaze drifted down to the emerald resting against her pale breast. He was ready for Samantha to be his wife. There was no real reason behind their delay in getting married—it just seemed that there was always something happening in their lives and the lives of their friends and they'd been focusing on that. In another week the house would be built. It would need exterior paint, interior decorating, and furniture before it could be a home, but the hardest part would be done.

A trip north to Anberina was sounding like a good idea for then. There would be someone there who could officiate their wedding—because there was no way in hell that Zachary would allow Reverend Channing to be the one to marry them. They could spend a few days away from Hackney and the work at the ranch and simply focus on each other, become husband and wife, and come back to make their finished house into a home.

That sounded good to him. They could use this week to finish up the house, order furniture, pick out the paint and wall paper and all the finishing touches the home needed, spend the weekend gone to Anberina, and come back as husband and wife to a home ready to be filled with their lives.

Peace filled Zachary. For so long life had been so damned hard but it seemed those days were over. While the threat from Clinton Matthews was always a lingering worry in the back of his mind, it didn't consume him any longer. The man was becoming a distant memory as more time went by. Finally, after spending so long as a wandering gunslinger facing death day after day, Zachary was settling down.

Zachary buried his face in Sam's hair, let his hand rest gently against her breast, and allowed the sound of nearby bird song and the flowing river to lull him back to sleep.

When he awoke a short time later, the sun had gotten brighter and he was alone on the bedroll. Sitting up quicky, his eyes sought out Samantha but he didn't see her. Fear lodged in his gut.

"Sam?" he called out. No answer. Grabbing his rifle as he leapt to his feet, Zachary scanned the surroundings. Had something happened? Had someone taken her? How in the hell would he have slept through his woman being abducted? Zachary was not a deep sleeper. "Samantha!"

Breathing deeply in an attempt to calm himself so he could think more clearly, Zachary realized that Samantha's clothes were gone. Wherever she was, she had taken the time to get dressed before she had gone there. Athena was still grazing peacefully nearby so unless someone had taken her, she hadn't gone far. And Zachary knew that one could have ridden in here and taken her because he wouldn't have slept through that. That meant Samantha must have walked somewhere on foot.

But where?

Zachary walked in small circles around their camp by the river until he found what he was seeking. Her footprints in the dew dampened grass leading toward the ranch. Why would she have gone on foot that way? And why wouldn't she have gotten him up to come with her?

Zachary slid into his clothes, adorned his weapons, and followed her tracks.

He realized that now and then he was seeing canine tracks heading in the same direction. A dog? Had she wondered off after a dog? Or was the dog after her? There were packs of wild dogs that joined up from time to time out here. Dogs that had gone feral and would hunt anything they thought they could make a meal out of. But there would be more than one set of tracks if that was what was happening here, and Zachary should be able to hear them—they weren't known to be silent.

As he neared the barns, he called out again. "Samantha?"

"I'm here!"

Relief flooded through him at the sound of her voice. At least he knew she was alive—though he might just kill her himself for causing him so much damn worry.

Heading toward the barn where her voice had come from, Zachary stopped when she came walking out. As always, the sight of her stole his breath. Those wild curls free and glowing in the sunlight. That pale skin. Those freckles. Full lips that were curved in a happy smile and green eyes shimmering as they gazed at him.

Then he saw the squirming ball of fur in her arms and frowned. "Look what I found!" she exclaimed. "I named him Creed."

"A dog?"

She walked closer and held the pup up higher. "A puppy. Isn't he cute?"

Zachary sighed. It was cute. More fur than dog, it was clearly an Australian Shepherd pup. Most of its body was black, with a bit of white on his chest and legs and brown around his paws and muzzle. "Where'd it come from?"

Samantha shrugged. "I don't know. It was sniffing around our camp when I woke up but ran from me so I chased it here."

"You should have woke me," Zachary scolded, reaching out a calloused hand and scratching at the pups small ears. It seemed friendly enough as it squirmed in Sam's arms and looked up at him with warm brown eyes. "You scared the hell out of me lady."

"Oh..." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

"I know you didn't." Zachary smoothed a bit of her wild hair behind her ear. "So, Creed huh?"

"Yeah. I fed him a bit of jerked beef from the saddlebags but he's hungry."

"Our first ranch animal and it's a flea-bitten pup." Zachary took the dog from Sam and held it against his chest, grumbling when it raised its head and licked his chin. "We'll have to get some food for him. I can do a bit of fishing in the river and catch something for all of us to eat today."

"I always wanted a dog," Samantha admitted as they made their way toward the dilapidated tool shed. There had been fishing poles stashed away inside years ago and Zachary hoped they still here. "But my mama was afraid of them and after she passed, I had a hard enough time keeping food in the mouths that were left to add another one."

Zachary adjusted his hold on the pup to free one arm and wrapped it tight around Sam's shoulders, kissing her hair. "We can have a hundred dogs if it makes you happy, love."

Her light laughter made his heart happy. "I think I'll be happy with one for now."

Zachary handed the pup back to her and stepped into the shed, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness as he glanced around the dusty, cobweb filled interior. "I guess we'll take him with us to Anberina at the end of the week."

"Why are we going to Anberina?" Zachary didn't need to see Samantha to know that she had tensed with fear—he could hear it in her shaking voice. "I haven't left Hackney in a long time, Zach... What if he's out there..."

Zachary growled under his breath, found the pole, and stepped back outside. "Then I'll kill him. You're the one that said we can't live in hiding and fear."

Her breath whooshed out as her shoulders sagged and she buried her face in the pup, Creed's, fur. "I know. I'm not afraid of much but he terrifies me."

"After seeing those fists fly at Judith yesterday, I have to say that Clinton is the one that should be afraid of you," Zach teased, hoping to bring a smile to her face.

Instead, her gaze was sharp. "I'm serious, Zachary."

He nodded, feeling a bit annoyed. He wanted Samantha to trust him. Wanted her to realize that no matter what came, she was safe if she was at his side. "So was I when I said that he won't take anything from either one of us again."

After several moments of walking toward their riverside camp in silence, Samantha spoke. "Why are we going to Anberina?"

"We'll finish building the house this week. We can order furniture, paint, and supplies from the lumberyard catalogue. I figure it'll take all that a few days to come in so we can get out of town a while. They'll be better shopping in Anberina and plenty of folks who can officiate a wedding." Zachary offered a small smile. "Unless you've changed your mind about becoming Mrs. Marston."

Her entire face lit as her smile beamed up at him. "I would never change my mind about marrying you, you know that."

Zachary bent low and kissed her gently. "That's real good to hear, Sam."

***

Eleanor's head was spinning as she jotted down notes in an effort keep everything the doc was telling her straight. She had thought that Sunday was traditionally a day of rest but not for Doctor Reynolds. He had decided to skip the church service after their run in with the preacher and his wife the day before and was instead dedicating his Sunday to teaching Eleanor all about running the storefront and the properties of certain over the counter herbs and medicines available so she could better assist customers.

Eleanor doubted anyone would want to purchase their treatments from someone of her standing within the community, but she wasn't going to argue with the doc—mainly because he'd made it clear he would not take no for an answer. Eleanor had a feeling she was going to let the doc down. She had never once in her life gone to school or received much of an education—she knew how to read and write to a degree but wasn't too advanced at either.

"You'll do just fine," Lewis assured her quietly as the doc began addressing stomach upset and the helping properties of both ginger and peppermint in those suffering such an ailment.

"I'm not so sure," Eleanor replied, tossing her notepad and pencil on the counter, and flopping herself down on a stool. She rubbed at her face and let out a long sigh as her gaze drifted to the window.

Where was Tim? He had come back to the doc's the night before and brought her some supper. They had sat and talked for hours about their lives, their pasts, their likes and dislikes. They had lost themselves in each other's company until well into the early morning before he had finally given her a tender kiss to her brow and left.

Eleanor had fallen asleep close to dawn with her heart so full of hope and so overwhelmed with her feelings for that man she had scarcely been able to breathe. Timothy O'Neil was amazing. He was kind, gentle, warm, loyal, and protective. He tended to know how to lighten her mood and put a smile on her face.

He was going to marry her. He was going to give her child a father. Give them a home. And he seemed...excited to do so. Eleanor hadn't known that men like him existed.

And then the doc had been banging on her door at nine in the morning, telling her to eat quickly and begin her lessons.

"That's a real pretty ring," Lewis whispered, as the Doc continued his tutorial.

Eleanor felt color rise on her cheeks as she bit her lip and gazed at the simple diamond and gold band—she had never owned anything that was so beautiful or costly. It still amazed her that Timothy had cared enough to get her a ring. She hadn't expected one—would have never asked for one. And yet, to him, it had seemed a natural step. With him treating her with such romance and care it was almost possible for Eleanor to imagine she were a true lady instead of a soiled dove.

"Thank you. He picked a beautiful one."

Lewis nodded, his brown eyes earnest as he met her gaze. "He did. You are beautiful, Eleanor. Tim is a lucky man."

Eleanor shook her head. "I'm the lucky one."

"Are you paying attention?" Doctor Reynold's interrupted their whispering. "You stopped taking notes. I am telling you important things you'll need to know when you begin working tomorrow. I can't stay here all day to teach you when I have patients to see."

Eleanor quickly grabbed her notepad and pencil. She blew a loose strand of blond hair from her face. "Sorry, doc. I've never been real scholarly."

"Lucky for me. If the woman had a lick of book smarts, she would have taken off running from me."

At the sound of Timothy's voice, Eleanor was off her stool and rushing around the counter. It wasn't until she was standing in front of him that she realized she'd just behaved like some love struck school girl. Biting her lip and glancing up at him, Eleanor watched that good-natured boyish grin spread across his face, bringing that happy spark to his green eyes.

Timothy held his arms out and tilted his head and Eleanor needed no further urging before jumping into them and hugging him tight, feeling him holding her just as tightly in return. Remembering that they had an audience, Eleanor slowly pulled away and put a bit of distance between them.

"I don't reckon I've ever had anybody be quite so happy to see me, Ell," Tim stated as he swooped in and pressed a tender kiss to her temple that had her legs shaking as her pulse quickened.

Doctor Reynolds took his glasses off and wiped them clean on his shirt sleeve. "While the woman is quite fond of you, Timothy, I think her real joy at your sudden intrusion is based solely on the fact that you have interrupted her lessons."

The docs words did nothing to erase the joy on his face. "What are the lessons about?"

"Doc's been teaching me the prices of each product for sale out here and what medicines to recommend for any patients that happen in while he's busy. He seems to have mistaken me for a smart woman."

Tim's smile faded. His eyes locked on hers and he slid his arm around her shoulders. "You are a very smart woman, Ell. And plenty capable of doing any job the doc puts in front of you."

"Of course she is," Doc Reynolds agreed.

"But I need to steal her for a while, doc, so the lesson will have to continue later."

"Where are we going?" Eleanor asked with a frown. Surely not the diner for lunch—church would be letting out soon and the diner's and café's would all be full of folks in their Sunday best with Reverend Channing's words still fresh in their ears—words that had no doubt been all about fornication and violence given the incident the day before.

Timothy offered the doc and Lewis a quick farewell before leading Eleanor out the door. It was a beautiful day. The sun was bright, the sky was blue, and the spring air was warm. "We have to go pick out our house," Tim said as he led her down the boardwalk.

"Our house?" Eleanor frowned. Of course, she knew Tim had already talked to the lumber yard about buying one but she hadn't realized he'd be whisking her away the very next day to do so. "It's Sunday. Aren't they closed?"

"Usually." Tim reached down and took her hand, entwining his fingers with hers as they made their way slowly down the road. "But, he was happy to set up a meeting with us. I mean we are buying a house and furniture to fill it and he is a businessman who enjoys making money."

Eleanor bit her lip as she looked down at their joined hands before glancing around the street. Several passerby's took notice of them. Eleanor could see the curiosity in some gazes and the judgments in others. She heard the whispers. Tim should pull his hand away. He should place distance between them. People were going to judge him always for being with her. They were going to whisper and laugh behind his back. Yes, Tim needed to let go of her hand right now.

He ran his thumb along her wrist, gave her hand a gentle squeeze and kissed her hair, pulling her closer to his side. "It sure is a pretty day, ain't it? How about, after we see Mr. Anders, we saddle the horses and take a ride?"

Eleanor felt her eyes burn and her throat tighten as emotion filled her. Timothy had to notice. He had to realize that they were being watched. Had to know that he was being judged and condemned a fool. Didn't he care? Why didn't he care?

Timothy stopped walking and turned to face her, never releasing his gentle hold on her hand. His free hand came up and those fingertips danced across her face before he rested his palm tender against her cheek. "What's wrong, Ell?" He dropped his hand to her stomach and covered it with his palm. "Is it the babe? Are you feeling bad? I can take you back to the docs' and I'll sneak you in the back way so you can skip the lessons and rest if that's what you need."

She shook her head and laid her hand over his. "The babe is fine. It's just...." Her gaze darted around as she bit her lip. "Them..."

Tim sighed. "Them? To hell with them."

"Tim... they.. they think you're a fool..."

He sighed and lowered his head, resting his brow against hers. Eleanor went cross-eyed attempting to look into his gaze. "I don't care what they think." She could hear the honesty in his voice. "And they're right. I am a fool. A good woman will turn a man into one every time. Hell, Ell, I'd do anything for you. You tell me to jump, I'll ask how high. You tell me to fly and I'll get busy crafting wings." That breathtaking smile curved his lips. "I'm your fool, Eleanor."

Eleanor wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to kiss the man senseless... She was such a jumbled mess of emotion that she wasn't entirely certain how she was supposed to feel. But one thought, louder than all the rest, kept resounding in her head. And that was the thought she gave a voice to. "I... I don't deserve this..."

Tim pulled away so he could properly look into her eyes. She saw the pain in his expression as he frowned and studied her face. "You are so much more than you think you are. So much more than I ever thought I deserved to have... I wish you could see that."

It was Eleanor's turn to frown. "You are an incredible man, Timothy. Why would you ever doubt what you deserve?"

"I could ask you the same question," he replied, sliding her hair behind her ear. "As far as I go... There's a certain worthlessness a person feels when their own parents don't want them. I wasn't good enough for my own mother to give a damn about me so why would I be good enough for anyone else?" Eleanor hated the pain she saw in his expression so she rose on her toes and kissed his jaw—desperate to ease it any way she could.

Timothy swallowed hard and pulled her in closer, their bodies flush as they stood there on the boardwalk—neither caring any longer about what the townspeople might think.

The air became hard to breathe as she looked up into those green eyes and lost herself inside them. "You are not worthless, Timothy O'Neil. Anyone who could have you in their lives and simply walk away never deserved to have you at all."

Timothy's mouth opened as if he were searching for words to say before he shut it once again. Those eyes simply gazed into hers, stealing her ability to think clearly. It was as if time simply ceased to exist as Timothy's head moved lower and their breath mingled.

Eleanor could feel the heat of his body as she pressed tight against it. Her body trembled and her lips shook, anticipating the feel of his against them. And Tim did not keep her waiting long.

Those full, firm lips covered hers and Eleanor's entire body went liquid in his arms as one of his hands cradled her face and the other arm slid around her, holding her body tight against him and keeping her from falling as her legs went slack.

This kiss was different from the quick brush of lips they had shared before. There was a need and a hunger in this kiss that caused Eleanor's entire body to ache with want for the man against her. Never had she felt such a desire—such an all-consuming need for a man.

Tim nipped at her lip and she knew what he wanted, so, she gave it to him. Sliding open her lips, Timothy's tongue quickly slipped inside her mouth—tangling with hers and tasting her long and lazily. Her core tightened and her breasts heaved against him as she struggled to breathe. His hand slid down her back and gripped her backside, his hips pressing tighter into her until she felt his hardness—proving the kiss was having just as strong an impact on him.

Her mind drifted back to the times she could recall laying with Tim before. He had always been gentle and kind. She could still feel that gentle kindness even in this moment but there was more. There was a deeper hunger in his touch. A more earnest desire in the way he moaned against her lips.

With a groan, Tim pulled away, taking a step back and rubbing at his neck while rocking back on his heels. Eleanor stood there on shaking legs trying desperately to steady her heart rate as she pressed her trembling fingertips to kiss reddened lips. Tim chuckled as he adjusted his gun belt around his hips. "Well, that certainly gave them something to talk about."

Eleanor glanced around. Oh yes. Folks had indeed noticed, and they were indeed talking. She felt her cheeks flame. "We should probably get going," she said, tugging on her black skirt. "Mr. Anders will be waiting."

Timothy reached out and took her hand. He led her down the road toward the lumber yard but now, Eleanor chose to ignore the stares and the whispers and focus instead on the feel of his calloused hand around hers and the way his arm would randomly brush her shoulder as if he simply couldn't get close enough.

Eleanor had never in her life laid with a man and received any real pleasure from the encounter—none of them had bothered with how she felt. The only releases she had ever experienced were ones she had given herself. She wondered what it would be like with Tim now that things had changed between them. Would he take time with her? Would he care about her pleasure?

When his thumb ran tenderly across her hand, Eleanor smiled. Yes. Yes, Tim would care. 

A/N: Sam and Zach have their first animal! And both couples are needing to take a trip to get married--perhaps they'll all take a trip together! And poor Tim--I was abandoned by a parent so I know that feeling... and no matter what, no matter how many good people come in your life to fill that void, that pain is still there. You still wonder why you weren't enough.  I hope y'all enjoyed the chapter! Sorry it took a bit longer to get up, I've been super busy--project fixing up our 120 year old house is well underway but still has lots and lots of work--if only we could hire a crew. But we don't have crew hiring money! Thanks for reading!