Chapter Twenty-Seven

Zachary settled Blaze in at the livery stable, took a few moments to give Athena a good scratch, and then stepped out into the weakening daylight. His mind had one focus and that was finding Samantha and feeling the woman safe in his arms. He knew she needed space and independence, and she had managed to keep herself safe for two and a half years without his help—but he sure felt powerless whenever she was out of his sight. If anyone were to hurt that woman, Zachary would bring the fire of hell down on their heads.

"Where's that woman of yours at?" Timothy asked, stepping out of the livery and standing beside him. It seemed his best friend knew the direction his thoughts had taken—of course it wasn't hard. Samantha was the direction Zachary's thoughts were always taking.

Zachary glanced toward the large clock which indicated it was nearly six in the evening. "I reckon we'll head toward the post office. She may still be there."

The two men made their way down main street and Zachary saw a flash of red hair step out of the building they were heading toward. Relief flooded his senses. His woman was safe, alive, intact, and smiling as she caught sight of him and made her way in his direction. Zachary knew most would find it unacceptable the way he missed and worried over her whenever Samantha was out of his sight, but their opinions wouldn't change the way things were. That woman was his oxygen and he needed her.

"You sure are a sight for sore eyes, Samantha!" Timothy greeted brightly as he rushed forward and reached Samantha first, wrapping her in a tight hug. "Maybe now Zachary will do something other than sulk and pout and be a grouch."

Zachary did do something else then. He glared. Take that Timothy.

Samantha smiled as she disentangled herself from Tim's grasp and those big green eyes met his. "Surely you weren't that grumpy today?"

A smile tugged at his lips as Zachary pulled her into his arms, burying his face in those lavender scented curls and breathing her in. "I missed you."

She held him just a little tighter. "Okay then."

"Well, I don't know about the two of you but I'm starved." Timothy stated, wincing as he laid his hand over his stomach. "That man of yours was a slave driver all day, Sam. Barely gave us time to eat a bite."

Zachary heard Samantha's stomach growl as if in agreement. "I could definitely eat," she agreed, pulling away from him.

"Let's go get some dinner," Timothy pointed toward one of the diners down the road.

"I thought Sam and I would go to eat together...."

Zachary stopped speaking when Samantha threw a sharp glance in his direction. She looped one arm around Zachary's and held the other out for Timothy. "Let's go then, gentleman. A lady can never have too many good looking men on her arm when she goes for dinner."

Zachary sighed as Timothy took her offered arm and they led her down the road. "We're awful dirty, Sam," Timothy lamented. "I guess we should have cleaned up before we came to take you to dinner."

Thoughts of cleaning up made Zachary think of the hotel room waiting for him and Samantha and the hot bath they would share when they got there. Her tiny body dripping wet as steam swirled around them and Zachary tasted that sweet haven between her thighs.....

"Did you get a lot done today?" Samantha's question pulled him from his hungry thoughts. Damn. Zachary had never been a man who got lost in or blinded by want and hunger—until Samantha had come along and shaken him to the core.

"We got a good start on the foundation. We spent part of the day just laying things out and getting the layout just the way we wanted it," Zachary replied, opening the diner door so Samantha and Timothy could step inside. "The footprint of the new house is quite a bit bigger than the old one, but we were able to line it up and make it work with the cellar."

"I for one am glad you chose a one-story house," Timothy admitted. "I don't care much for heights."

Zachary pulled out Samantha's chair and slid it to the table once she sat down. "I just wanted something different," she replied simply, her gaze knowing as it meant Zachary's.

As Zachary took a seat in the corner facing the door, he marveled at just how damn lucky he had gotten when Samantha had fallen in love with him. He didn't deserve a woman as good as her—not even close. He would spend every day for the rest of his life making sure she stayed happy, and he never took her for granted.

The atmosphere between the trio was light and enjoyable as they ate their meal. Thankfully, Timothy was talented enough at conversation that not much was required from Zachary as he simply enjoyed his beef strew with fresh bread and kept an eye on everyone that passed the window.

"So, what did you do all day, Samantha?" Timothy finally asked, which drew Zachary's attention back to the table.

"Organized mail mostly," she replied, blowing on a spoonful of stew. "And answering the question, 'Do you actually know how to use that thing?' at least a dozen times from men who came into the post office and saw the gun on my hip."

Zachary chuckled, recalling the way Samantha had quickly and accurately taken down every target placed in front of her with that .45 Colt just that morning. Yeah, his woman definitely knew how to use that thing. And it was equal parts alluring and terrifying to watch her do so.

"I'm gonna guess by that look of admiration on Zach's face there, that you do indeed know how to use that thing." Timothy pulled his newfound pocket watch from his pocket and checked the time. He had checked the time on that thing at least twenty times throughout the day—Zachary suspected he simply liked having it and the connection it provided to the family they'd both lost. He was glad Samantha had pushed him to allow Timothy to look through those belongings. His friend had needed it.

"Yeah, she knows how to use it." Samantha's cheeks colored at Zachary's praise.

The trio finished their meal and left the diner. Again, Timothy checked that damned watch. "Well, I'll be heading and getting a drink and unwinding a while before I head to the hotel. You wanna join me?"

"Nope," Zachary took Samantha's hand in his and pulled her closer. "I reckon we're wore out and gonna head to the hotel."

Samantha feigned a massive yawn behind her hand as she blinked innocently. "So sleepy."

Timothy laughed and patted Zachary on the back. "Alright then. Y'all rest well," he winked. "Just don't forget we'll leave town at eight to head back out to the ranch for work."

Zachary simply grunted and began to lead Samantha away as she offered Timothy a quick goodbye. "Zachary, I'm worried about Timothy..." she admitted.

"Why?" Zachary asked, not pausing on his trek toward the hotel and the pleasure he knew they would find there.

"Doesn't he seem sad to you?"

Zachary frowned. Did he? Hell, Zachary didn't know. He'd been a bit too distracted by his own thoughts all day to pay much attention. Timothy would have had to have come straight out and said, 'Hey, I'm sad' in order for Zachary to have taken notice. But Zachary did care and if Timothy was upset, he wanted to be there for him. "I'll talk to him tomorrow," he assured her. "For tonight, I only have one thing on my mind."

"And what's that?" Samantha asked with a coy bat of her lashes.

Zachary chuckled. He stooped low, his warm breath teasing the sensitive skin behind her ear, causing Samantha to tremble against him. "You."

***

Samantha sighed with contentment as she slid into the steaming water of her bath and felt her muscles instantly relaxing. Zachary had left the room a short while ago, vowing to urge the maids to put a rush on the water. The water had arrived, Zachary was still gone, but Samantha had chosen not to wait for him. The temptation to simply slide into that bath had been too great.

She had the changing screen pulled in front of her for privacy and could not see the door, but she knew that Zachary had a key and would let himself in. Her body trembled with anticipation. She had seen the obvious want and hunger in the man. He clearly remembered their interaction in the barn just that morning and was eager to continue where Samantha had left off.

A knock sounded on the door just before she heard a key in the lock. Despite knowing that it was Zachary, Samantha still reached out and laid her hand over the revolver she had resting in the chair beside the tub.

"It's just me, Sam," Zachary's voice assured her quietly as the door closed and she heard the lock reengage.

Samantha relaxed once again beneath the lavender scented bubbles she was surrounded by. "It took you long enough," she scolded gently.

She couldn't see Zachary yet but she heard the familiar sounds of him undoing his gun belt and sliding from his bandolier. When he stepped around that changing screen, Samantha's breath caught in her chest. He had taken off more than just his weapons. Zachary's powerful body was completely bare and gleaming in the lamp light.

That deep growling voice rumbled from his chest. "Damn woman, you're breathtaking."

"I could say the same to you," she whispered, her mouth dry and her hands shaking.

His movements were deliberate and predatory as he came to the tub and crouched beside it. Zachary's hand slid behind her neck and pulled her forward, crushing her lips beneath his own. Samantha lost herself in that kiss—in the heat and the hunger. She felt his calloused fingertips trail up her thigh beneath the water. When his finger slid inside her, Samantha threw her head back, arched her back, and filled the room with moans of his name.

"Goddamn, I love seeing you wanting me," Zachary growled.

Samantha couldn't form words or cohesive thoughts for that matter as Zachary's hot mouth went to her breasts and those fingers continued to pleasure her aching core. Samantha's hips moved in time with his pumping hand. She gripped the sides of the metal tub as steam swirled around them and her panting breaths mingled with Zachary's hungry moans.

"Let yourself go, Sam," Zachary urged, his hot mouth finding her neck and nipping at the sensitive flesh there. When he used the pad of his thumb to apply pressure to her clit and vibrate it, that band of pleasure that had been building up within her, snapped so suddenly, Samantha screamed out his name, though Zachary captured most of the sound against his lips.

Slowly, Samantha began to come back down from the heaven Zachary had sent her to. She was aware of him sliding into the small tub behind her, cradling her against his chest, his hard arousal pressing into her back. He grabbed a rag from beside the tub and ran it gently against her skin. "I love you, Samantha."

"I love you too," she vowed, laying her head back against his shoulder as he ran that rag along her collarbones.

"I'm buying us a tub when our house is finished," he announced. "At least twice as big as this one."

"Are you saying you want to make a habit of bathing together?" she teased.

"Of course I am."

Zachary took a moment to scrub the dirt from his own skin before standing up and pulling Samantha up with him. He helped her from the tub and Samantha simply allowed him to continue to pamper her as he took a soft cotton towel and dried the water dripping down her skin.

"Are you going to dress me too?" she teased, her eyes simply feasting in the sight of all his tanned skin and hard muscle gleaming in the glow of the oil lamps.

Zachary smiled, that slow, lazy smile that deepened his dimples and made her heart thud just a little harder. "You won't be needing clothes tonight."

Samantha feigned confusion. "I won't?"

Zachary took her by the hips and backed her up to the edge of the bed before lifting her up and tossing her down upon the soft mattress and blankets. Samantha bit her lip as she stared up at him.

"No. You won't."

Zachary dropped to the bed and crawled across it, covering Samantha's body with his own. His lips caught hers in a quick hard kiss, before heading to her neck, her collarbones, her breasts. He teased her nipple, rolling the hard bud between his tongue and teeth. Samantha buried her hands in his thick dark hair and raised her hips. "Take me, Zachary."

With a hungry growl, those dark brown eyes looked into hers as Zachary slid himself inside her, filling her completely. Samantha's head went back as she arched from the bed and Zachary feasted on her exposed throat.

Zachary pulled back and then slammed into her one hard time. Then another. Samantha clung to him, her nails digging into his back with each thrust he made inside her. "More Samantha. Damn you, you always have me wanting more."

Samantha nipped at his neck, pressing her breasts into his chest. "I'm yours, Zachary. All of me. Whenever you want me."

Zachary's movements quickened and Samantha lost herself in the pleasure that only this man would ever give to her. "And I'm yours, Sam. Only yours."

***

"You will work tonight. I am still the owner of this business and still need to make a profit. I can't continue to pay you to sit in your room and do nothing."

Eleanor stared at Thomas' reflection in the mirror behind her. He was still swollen and bruised form the beating Zachary had given him but his fear was fading. As was his patience. Eleanor had hoped that she could have one more night off work to use the herbs she had gotten today—clearly that wasn't going to be possible.

"Dammit, are you listening to me?" Thomas demanded, taking a step closer to her.

Eleanor winced. She didn't want to be afraid of the bastard but she was. He had already raped her several times and had beaten her more than once. And knowing that there was a life growing inside her made Eleanor feel weaker somehow—more vulnerable. "Yes, I'm listening."

"Then get your ass dressed for work." He glanced at his pocket watch. "You were supposed to be ready thirty minutes ago."

She was so very tired and weak. "I was hoping for one more night..." Eleanor whispered, only to be cut off when his hand closed tightly around her upper arm, bruising the flesh beneath it.

"You've had enough time off. You'll either get dressed and get to work or you can leave the saloon and make your own way out there."

Eleanor shook her head and yanked her arm free of his grasp. "Fine. I'll get dressed."

Thomas grumbled under his breath and took several steps back. "You're going to have to work hard to make up for all that time of I gave you."

Eleanor's heart cried out for freedom. She did not want to lay with any more men for coin. She did not want to let one more man slam his dirty pecker inside of her in exchange for fifty cents. But that was what she was. A whore. It was all she'd known for eleven years and it was all she would ever be.

"Aren't you supposed to be selling this place?" Eleanor asked, wrapping her robe tighter around herself.

Thomas snorted, rubbing his thick black mustache. "Why? Because Zachary Marston says I should?"

"Because he said he'll kill you if you don't."

Thomas clenched his fists, those small, dark eyes narrowing. "I won't run scared from that bastard. If I sell and leave, it will be my own choice."

Eleanor simply nodded. She wasn't going to push his temper any further by saying anything else. "You have ten minutes to get your ass ready and get downstairs before I come back up here and get you."

"I'll be down," Eleanor promised.

She found herself alone once again as Thomas left the room and slammed the door behind him. Eleanor changed into a black corset and a pair of white bloomers trimmed in lace. Her legs were bare beneath her mid-thigh and she placed a matching black lace garter on her low thigh.

It took only a couple of moments to braid her long blond hair and loop that plait on the back of her head, pinning it up out of the way. Some red paint emphasized her full lips, dark paint outlined her blue eyes, and a quick brush of rouge brought out her cheekbones. Eleanor splashed a tiny amount of rose scented perfume on her neck and slid into her high-heeled ankle boots.

She was ready for work.

Leaving her room, Eleanor could hear the slight din of noise from the saloon below. It was seven thirty on a Wednesday evening so the saloon wouldn't be too crowded. Most ranch hands and cowboys would be at the ranches and farms they called home getting ready to work the next morning.

But there would be some and Eleanor would be expected to keep them company and tend to their needs. She simply wasn't sure she had it in herself tonight to do so. Her stomach was on edge and her body simply felt tired—not to mention the heaviness weighing down her mind and heart.

"Eleanor!" The moment Eleanor entered the saloon a loud cry came up from a back table of regulars who had clearly missed her during her absence.

Plastering on her sultry, engaging smile, Eleanor threw them a coy wave and made her way to the bar to get a tray of drinks to carry to them. As she waited for Otis to ready the drinks, Eleanor was surprised when a man was suddenly sidling up to the bar beside her.

She glanced over and realized it was Timothy O'Neil. Messy blond hair, a tanned complexion, boyish good looks, good-natured green eyes, and a shaky smile. "Hello there, Miss Eleanor."

Trying hard to keep her false persona intact, Eleanor leaned in and tapped her fingertips on his arm. "Hi there, Timothy." If she was going to have to go upstairs with someone, she would prefer it be someone like Timothy. At least he provided a decent view and would be kind.

"I'm glad to see you, ma'am," Timothy offered, shoving his hand through his hair and causing several blond locks to fall over his brow. "Caroline said you hadn't been feeling well."

"I'm feeling just fine," Eleanor lied, flashing a wink toward Timothy as Otis placed four beer mugs on the tray in front of her. "Did you miss me, cowboy?"

He stuttered several times as his face turned red. Eleanor was struck by how odd his behavior seemed. She didn't remember Timothy as being a shy man. "I was worried about you," he admitted quietly.

This caused Eleanor to completely still. She froze as she simply stared up at him, searching those green eyes—though what she was searching them for, she couldn't be sure. "Eleanor!" That back table of regulars called out again. "Bring them beers and your sweet self back here, darlin'!"

Eleanor snapped herself from her confusion over Timothy's behavior and lifted up the tray of beers. "I'm in high demand there, Tim."

Timothy took the tray of beers from her hand, surprising her yet again. She blinked several times as he started toward the back table, leaving her no choice but to follow him. "I was hoping we could spend some time together. Maybe talk?"

Eleanor saw Thomas watching her intently from the other side of the bar. It was clear that he was angry. Eleanor felt her own temper rise. She did not need this right now. Turning, she yanked the tray of beers out of Timothy's hands, sloshing a bit of the amber liquid from the mugs. "I don't get paid to talk. And those men are wanting my attention so if you'll excuse me..."

She shouldered her way past Timothy and went to the table. One of the men was quick to grab her around the waist and pull her into his lap. Eleanor could feel his arousal in her backside and it made her stomach roll. "Why don't you give me a kiss for luck, Eleanor, and if I win this next hand, I'll split it with you."

Eleanor did what was expected of her and pressed a lingering, sultry kiss to the half-drunk cowhands bearded lip. "Sounds good to me, cowboy," she purred.

If he won the next round of poker she could stand to make a few cents at least—though seventy-five percent of that would go to Thomas. Seventy-five percent of everything she earned in this saloon and brothel always went to the owner. The easiest way to earn quick money was on real busy nights when Otis could charge and extra ten cents a drink, Eleanor would convince men to buy her those overpriced drinks, and then she would toss most of the alcohol away while pocketing that dime—even if only about three cents of it remained in her pocket.

Eleanor attempted to focus on the flirting and the card game. Her gaze was drawn several times to Timothy who was now standing with his arms crossed beside the bar. Now and then their eyes would meet before he would quickly avert his gaze.

"Look at that! You brought me luck after all!" the cowhand, whom Eleanor thought she remembered being named Frank, exclaimed, slamming his hand down happily. He scooped up his winnings and dropped thirty cents into Eleanor's waiting palm. "There you go sweet thing."

Eleanor slid the coins into a small pocket built into her corset. "Glad I could bring you some luck."

Frank winked. "Let's head upstairs and you can bring me some more."

"Sounds good to me," Eleanor lied. Such was life. Frank wasn't a long laster if she remembered correctly. Eleanor could quickly earn another fifty cents which would put a smile on Thomas' face.

She got to her feet but moved too quickly and her head swam. Swooning, Eleanor grabbed out for the table, her legs seeming to disappear from beneath her. Yells arose from the men around the table when Eleanor's sudden weight caused it to tip. Beers spilled and poker chips scattered.

The world went completely black for a moment and Eleanor expected to wake up in the floor—instead she found herself pulled into a strong set of arms and lifted up against a broad chest. She kept her eyes squeezed tight, nausea swirling in her gut as her rescuer cradled her as if she were a new bride.

"Eleanor? Are you okay?"

That was Timothy O'Neil's voice close to her ear and his breath against her temple. Timothy was the man holding her. "I'm okay..." she mumbled. Cracking open one eye Eleanor realized that plenty of people were staring at her. She glanced up and saw those deep green eyes full of concern as they looked down at her. "You can put me down..."

Timothy shook his head. "No. You're still sick. I'm taking you upstairs."

Eleanor was too dizzy and nauseated to offer much argument. As they were heading up the staircase, her stomach suddenly rolled. Eleanor gagged and Timothy held her head over the staircase rail as she lost the contents of her stomach so violently she nearly passed out from lack of air.

A man who was now wearing soiled boots let out a string of curses and shook his fist toward Timothy. "Might wanna go wash those off," Timothy offered before taking the staircase two at a time. Eleanor was having trouble staying awake. Her head would not stop swimming and now a steady, drumming ache was forming behind her temples. Her stomach cramped and ached and she felt as if she were going to vomit again.

Timothy seemed to realize her situation as he entered her room, carried her straight to the washbasin in the corner and held her over it. Eleanor heaved but there wasn't much left in her stomach to come out. Her world went black from lack of air and she clung to Timothy, whimpering as he curled her against his chest once again. "Help..." she whispered.

"What the hell is wrong with her?" Thomas bellowed, striding into the room.

Eleanor felt herself be laid gently upon her bed and the blanket was draped over her. She looked at Timothy's face so very confused by his presence and yet too sick to think on it too determinedly. What was wrong with her? She was struggling to hold onto consciousness as she laid upon her bed, terrible shakes beginning to rattle her body.

"I don't know," Timothy's voice was quite clearly panicked. "Caroline? Hell, go get the doc..."

"These women have to work!" Thomas countered.

"She can't work if she's fucking dead!" Timothy countered. "Now Zachary done warned you about how you treat these women."

Timothy's voice was angry and panicked. Eleanor was faintly aware of him pacing beside her bed, shoving his hands through his hair and waving them around. Eleanor continued to shake as her head swam and that pain intensified behind her temples. Her stomach hurt so badly. Her eyes kept slipping closed and only sheer determination gave her the strength to reopen them.

"Caroline, the doc. Go now." Timothy ordered.

"You're going to owe me money, Timothy. I have a business to run."

"Go to hell, Thomas."

"Timothy....?" Eleanor called out, the world spun more. She couldn't make sense of anything. "Timothy help...?"

***

Timothy flew to the bed and laid his hand on Eleanor's cheek when he realized the woman had lost consciousness. What the hell was wrong with her? She was still shaking. Was she cold? He grabbed a spare throw blanket off the arm chair and laid it over her as well, tucking her in tight. He laid his wrist to her brow but she didn't seem to be fevered.

Caroline had run out for the doctor. Thomas was still bellowing about needing money for lost wages for Eleanor and Caroline. "If you want that woman untouched for the night I'm gonna need some compensation!"

"You'd let men come in and have their way with her now? The woman isn't even conscious!" Timothy exclaimed, rising to his feet and standing toe to toe with Thomas.

He shrugged one shoulder. "She doesn't have to be awake. Most of the men aren't that picky."

Timothy fought the urge to punch the bastard. "No one is touching her. And Caroline is taking the rest of the night off to sit with her."

"This place doesn't pay for itself."

Timothy pulled his pocket watch from his pocket and looked at that piece of his lost family he had just gotten back. He didn't have any money on him other than a dollar and he knew that wasn't going to buy Thomas' cooperation. Without hesitation, he held the watch out to Thomas. Zachary would understand. "This is worth plenty enough to give Eleanor all the time off she needs and to free Caroline up for tonight."

Thomas opened the watch and turned it over in his hands. "I can give her a few days to recover but then she has to get back to work, Timothy."

Timothy just waved his hand and turned his attention back to the bed as Thomas left the room. He couldn't explain why he cared so much about the woman lying there. Grabbing the armchair, Timothy pulled it closer to the bed and sat down upon it, his eyes never leaving her pale, painted face. Something was very wrong with Eleanor—and Timothy was afraid he might lose the woman before he even got to know her.

A/N: Zachary will never get enough of Samantha. Do you think the doc will figure out Eleanor's secret? Also, it seems Zachary may end up needing to have another 'conversation' with Thomas Williamson. Thank you for reading! I love reading your comments and getting your feedback!