In Love's Territory: A Western Historical Romance

by Lucy Evanson

  “That’s not a problem. I’m just glad you’re here,” she said. “Come on in.”

  Kate led him down the hall to the parlor; as they entered, Thomas practically leaped to his feet to greet Sam, pumping his hand vigorously.

  “Now here’s the man of the hour,” he said. “What am I saying? The hour, the day, the whole damned month!”

  Sam’s cheeks grew red and stayed that way as he greeted the other guests.

  “We were just hearing about how you came to Kate’s rescue last night,” Mr. Thompson said. “Sounds like you gave those boys just what they were asking for.”

  “Well, maybe it would be best not to bring up something so unpleasant,” Sam said quietly, shooting a glance toward Kate, who had returned to Carter’s side on the sofa. “But just between us, yes I did,” he added with a wink.

  Thompson laughed and clapped him on the back, his huge hand like a smoked ham on Sam’s shoulder.

  Sam made his way around the room and shortly arrived at Kate and Edward.

  “Mr. Carter,” he said, thrusting out his hand.

  After an elbow from Kate, Carter slowly rose and shook Sam’s hand quickly, as if he just wanted to get it over with. If Sam noticed, he didn’t let on; he moved on to greet Jake and Mark before the group moved into the dining room.

  With a nod from Thomas, Becky went into the kitchen and returned in a moment with Sarah, each of them bringing large platters of food. When they had finished serving the guests, Kate’s father stood and raised his glass. “Now if you’ll all join me in a toast—”

  “Actually, I’d like to make the toast,” Kate said. “If you don’t mind, Papa.”

  He smiled at her and sat down. “Not in the slightest. It’s probably more appropriate anyway.”

  Kate pushed back her chair and raised her wine glass. She looked across the table to Sam, whose cheeks had again turned a fine shade of scarlet. “Sam,” she said, only getting one word out before she realized that she may have erred in asking to make the toast. It might have been the hitch that leaped into her voice, strangling the lone syllable, or perhaps the sting of tears about to flow; regardless, Kate realized that she was perilously close to losing all composure.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered, and she closed her eyes while taking a deep breath.

  “It’s okay, Katie,” her father said quietly.

  She took another breath. This is the easy part, she thought. After yesterday, this should be a cakewalk.

  “Sam, by now everybody here knows how you saved me last night,” she said. “Ever since we arrived in Wisconsin you’ve been nothing but helpful. More than helpful, actually; if it weren’t for you I’m sure we would have run the farm into the ground already. No offense, Papa.”

  “None taken, sweetheart. I don’t disagree.”

  She turned back to Sam. “So you’re a skilled manager and you even have hidden talents, like we saw at the county fair. But what you did last night was something else. It was something…exceptional,” she said.

  “It was nothing,” Sam said quietly. “Anybody would have done the same thing.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” she said. “That was the most frightening thing I’ve ever been through in my life, and…well, thank you, Sam. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  She raised her glass to him, as did all the other guests; Sam’s cheeks flushed again as the group drank a toast to him and murmured their appreciation before they began to eat. The dinner started quietly; Kate couldn’t speak for the other guests, of course, but for her it was difficult to avoid thinking about the previous night’s events.

  After a few minutes, however, the conversation began to flow more freely and Kate started to relax, enjoying the company of her family and friends. The room was warm and bright, the food was delicious, and as she looked around the table she realized that even in spite of what had happened, there was no place she would rather be. She reached under the table to quickly squeeze Edward’s hand, but he pulled away.

  He had raced through his meal, in fact, and as she turned to look at him he pushed his chair back.

  “What’s going on?” Kate asked.

  Carter stood up and dropped his napkin onto the table as he turned to face Kate’s father. “Thomas, thanks very much for dinner. I hate to run off like this, but I have some extremely important business I left unfinished at the office.”

  “Oh, I see…well, have a good evening, Edward. We’ll see you later.”

  Carter leaned in close to Kate. “I would like to speak to you a moment in private,” he said quietly.

  Kate rose and followed him out onto the porch, closing the front door behind them. “Edward, what’s wrong? Why are you leaving so soon?”

  His stare was cool, without a hint of warmth, as if he were sizing up a lead ingot instead of looking at his fiancée. “Wasn’t it enough that the whole town saw you two together last night? Do you have to throw the whole thing in my face in front of our friends? In front of your family?” he demanded, gesturing back towards the dining room.

  Kate’s jaw dropped. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about! You and Sam!”

  “What do you mean, me and Sam?”

  “Don’t be dense,” Carter said. “He rides in to play hero and suddenly you two are openly flirting right in front of everybody!”

  “Edward, we weren’t flirting, we were just talking—”

  “Oh, Sam, you’re so talented. Sam, I don’t know what I would do without you,” Carter said in a high-pitched voice, as if imitating Kate. “You should be ashamed,” he snarled.

  She reached for his arm. “Edward, I was just trying to thank him, to tell him how I feel—”

  “Yes, it was perfectly obvious how you feel about him,” Carter said, peeling her fingers from his arm. “I just wish you’d told him in private to spare me the humiliation.” He turned and went down the porch steps.

  “Edward, wait,” Kate said. “I don’t want you to go. I didn’t mean to upset you. Please stay.”

  Carter stomped over to his carriage and unwound the reins from the post. “No thank you,” he said, climbing into the carriage and turning the horses toward the road. “I’ve seen enough for one night.” He snapped the reins hard and the horses bolted forward; in a few moments he was already out of earshot, even if Kate had had anything else she could say.

  She felt the familiar sting of tears building up, and the sight of Edward’s carriage retreating up to the road became blurred. Kate blinked and felt two tears blaze warm trails down her cheeks before she turned to go back inside. A final glance up to the road showed her that he wasn’t coming back. Not tonight, anyway.

  She went directly upstairs to her room and locked the door. The sky was still streaked with the pink and orange light of a not-yet-setting sun, but it didn’t matter. Kate got undressed and crawled into bed, listening to the others below as the dinner went on without her.

  She could hear the low buzz of conversation, with an occasional laugh mixed in; there was the clink of silverware on plates as they ate dessert, and eventually the shuffling sound of chairs being moved away from the table. A stream of footsteps flowed toward the door, and then she could hear goodbyes being exchanged just under her window.

  “Tell Kate I hope she’s feeling better,” she heard Mrs. Thompson say. “She’s been through a lot. She needs to take it easy for a while.”

  “I’ll tell her you said so,” her father said. “Thank you, Hannah.”

  “Thanks for having us over,” Thompson’s voice boomed. “And Sam, again, well done.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Thompson,” Sam said. “Good night.”

  Kate heard the creak of the carriage seat as the Thompsons climbed aboard, then the nicker of horses as they were on their way.

  “Well, I guess I’ll be going too,” Sam said. “Tell Kate I said good night.”

  “I’ll do so,” her father said. “See you tomorrow.”<
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  She could hear Sam go down the porch steps as the front door closed. Kate rolled over slightly and looked out the window; the light was failing now, but she could see him walking up the hill to his cabin.

  She turned over and closed her eyes, letting her head sink into the pillow. Flirting with Sam. What a ridiculous, hurtful thing to say. As if she’d ever think of Sam in that way. As if she’d ever consider him—

  Sam kissed me. The memory suddenly appeared in her mind, sharp and clear, as if a sculptor had thrown back a canvas to reveal his masterpiece. She hadn’t even realized it at the time—fright had clouded her senses and made her think only of getting away—but now she remembered clearly that as she had been curled in his arms atop Racer, Sam had definitely kissed her. Several times. Her fatigue disappeared as she sat up in bed, turning the memory over and over. Now she could remember the warmth of his lips on her skin, the scent of musk and leather—so different from Edward’s cologne—and the feel of his scruffy cheek against her own.

  He had held her like she had belonged to him, like she was his own secret treasure. At the time she had thought nothing of it, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than she had first assumed.

  Kate turned over again and looked out the window. She could see a light in the cabin now, occasionally broken by Sam’s shadow as he passed in front of the lamp. He saved me when I needed to be saved, and then watched over me for who knows how long last night. It’s like he’s always been watching over me, in fact.

  A smile appeared on her lips as she thought back to their ride together. Her memory was still hazy, but she had now remembered his kiss. She remembered the feel of his body against her own, and his arms around her. She had felt nothing like it before—she had felt more than just safe at last. She had felt…like she was where she was supposed to be.

  It must have just been my nerves, she thought. There was a lot going on last night. Still, I can’t imagine Sam ever speaking to me like Edward did tonight. She thought for a moment. No, she had never seen Sam angry or heard him utter even the slightest cross word to anybody. He would probably always be patient and respectful with me.

  She reached into the nightstand drawer for matches and lit the lamp beside her bed. The fatigue that she had felt all day had disappeared; in fact, she felt full of energy. Kate rose from the bed and went to the closet for her robe, then lit the other lamp on the dressing table.

  She returned to the nightstand drawer and withdrew the letter that she had started and then abandoned. Kate glanced at the paper, still entirely blank except for the words “Dear Laura”, then went to sit down at the dressing table to write. By the time she paused to review what she’d written, she had covered both sides of several sheets of stationery, explaining everything about Edward, about Sam, and about what had happened in the alley, omitting only the most frightening details.

  She got to the last line, still unfinished: Sam kissed me, it read. She paused and closed her eyes, searching for the right words, then put pencil to paper. And it thrills me to remember it, she wrote.

  She sat there, looking at the letter, almost not believing that she had committed it to print. Enough, she finally told herself, shaking her head as if that would dissipate these thoughts. One argument with Edward and I’m ready to jump ship? What kind of girl am I? She folded the letter carefully and placed it back in the nightstand, then crawled into bed and tried to clear her mind before she fell asleep.

  The next morning, she took care to burn the entire letter in the kitchen stove before going about her day.

  Chapter 12

  Sam tied Racer to the post outside the fence, crossed the slate path that cut across the yard, and slowly went up the steps to the front door of Carter’s house. There were lots of unpleasant things that he’d had to do—only a few months earlier he’d been up to his shoulder inside one of the cows when she’d had problems birthing a calf—but coming to smooth things over with Carter topped the list. Still, he didn’t see that he had much of a choice. There was no way he was going to let Carter bully Kate when she was entirely blameless, and it had been pretty clear to him that that’s what had happened.

  Actually, it had been pretty clear to everybody. Carter’s voice had easily carried to the dining room the night before, and it had been an uncomfortable place to be as they listened to the tirade, followed by Kate wordlessly going up to her room and closing the door. Carter had probably just misunderstood exactly what had happened and once he heard an explanation from Sam, he’d let up on Kate. Either that, or there was more to the story, but Sam meant to put a stop to it regardless.

  The housekeeper was a woman he didn’t know, but based on the frown that seemed to have been permanently installed on her face, he was glad for it. Bad moods had a way of infecting other people as well, and that was something Sam just didn’t need. On the other hand, maybe it’s not her fault. If I worked for Carter I might have the same expression.

  Instead of inviting him in to wait, the housekeeper had Sam stay on the porch while she went to find Carter. Not that he minded; it was a pleasant afternoon and he’d already seen the house, so he wasn’t even curious about the interior. Three years before, a couple of lead miners had died in an accident. Both had been badgers, living in hand-dug caves, and when Carter’s father had discovered that neither man had a suitable place to hold a wake, he had insisted that his home be used. Sam was pretty sure that Carter would be shocked to learn that his fancy house had once been filled with grimy diggers tromping around, paying respects to the two dead men in the parlor. He was also pretty sure that if there were another accident, there would be no repeat of the whole affair. The apple seemed to have fallen pretty far from the tree in that regard.

  He turned to watch as Carter’s gardener appeared from around the corner of the house and proceeded to the hedge that lined the edge of the yard. He began to carefully trim the shrubs, turning the leafy growth from an untamed bushiness to a flat, sharply edged boxiness. Maybe someday I’ll have enough money to pay somebody to force unnatural shapes on my shrubs too, Sam thought.

  “What are you doing here, Hall?”

  Sam turned to see Carter in the doorway, his shirtsleeves rolled up and a white linen napkin still tucked into his collar.

  “Mr. Carter, sorry to bother you during your supper,” Sam said, stepping forward and throwing his hand out.

  Carter glanced down at Sam’s hand, then pulled the napkin free from his shirt and dabbed at the corner of his mouth. “What do you want? You can see I’m busy.”

  Sam withdrew his hand. “Well, I just wanted to talk to you about what happened with Kate,” he said. “You know, when those men attacked her.”

  Carter glanced behind and then stepped out onto the porch, pulling the door shut. “I think I’ve heard all about that already,” he said. “Unless you’re here to apologize for laying your hands on my fiancée, I doubt that you have any new information for me.”

  Sam stared down at the porch’s wooden planks, trying to keep control of his tongue. “I did what I thought needed to be done,” he finally said, fighting with himself to speak evenly and calmly.

  “You thought it was necessary to have your hands all over my fiancée while you paraded her down Main Street on your horse?”

  “I had to get her out of there as fast as I could,” Sam said, the heat rising within him. “Kate—”

  “And that’s another thing,” Carter said. “Where the hell do you get off calling her by her Christian name? She’s your employer. You’ll call her Miss Taylor from now on.”

  “Fine, whatever,” Sam said. “Miss Taylor was in trouble and I helped her out. I just came over here to explain that there’s nothing more to it than that. And there’s absolutely no reason to take your anger out on her.”

  “Johnson!” Carter shouted, and his gardener turned to face the house. “Go work on the back hedge. You can finish this later.” When the gardener had walked out of sight, Carter turned back to Sam.
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  “Did Miss Taylor put you up to this?”

  “No, I came here myself. She doesn’t even know I’m here.”

  “What goes on between me and Miss Taylor is our business,” Carter said. “You’d best stay out of it. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Maybe not,” Sam said. “I just hate to see the girl suffering through no fault of her own.”

  “That’s too bad for you. And in the future, if you can’t keep your hands off her, you’re going to have more trouble than you know what to do with.”

  “I told you, all I did was give her a ride home after those men attacked her, nothing more.”

  “You think I’m blind, Hall? You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play dumb,” he said. “I know you’ve got feelings for her. But let me tell you something. I don’t want to see you around her ever again. When she’s around, you make yourself scarce, understand?”

  Sam stared at him. For the first time, he realized that Carter was ridiculous. He was physically the same man he’d always been, but after everything that had happened in the last couple of days, Carter had finally revealed himself to be utterly ridiculous.

  Sam laughed, and one corner of his mouth crept back as he watched Carter.

  “You know what, Carter? You’re right,” he said. “I do like Kate. I like her a hell of a lot.”

  Carter’s eyes flared and his neck began to grow pink, but Sam went on.

  “But I never let her know about that because she already made her choice. She chose you,” Sam said. “And I have too much respect for her to complicate things by butting in. At least, that’s what I used to think. But now I’m thinking differently. Now I’m thinking maybe she should know how I feel.”

  Carter stepped close, leaning forward as if to plow Sam out of the way with his chest, but Sam stood firm. The two were nose to nose, but Sam didn’t budge.

  “You’re going to be sorry you said that,” Carter whispered, so close that Sam could feel the puffs of air as he spoke. The blood had drained from his face and the soul had drained from his eyes. “I promise you.”