She nodded.“Thank you, Trent.”
A war was waging within her.Samantha hadn’t even been here a full day yet, and in that time, she’d laughed more than she had in as long as she could remember.But as good as it felt, she wasn’t sure she should be.Especially today.
Today was her wedding anniversary.
Six years ago, she’d married Norman.Or, at least, she’d thought she had.A part of her still felt as if she should grieve the loss of him, while another part said she should hate him for all he’d put her through.Certainly, Simon wanted her to hate him.The truth was, she felt neither.Trent had called her a victim, but if that was true, why wasn’t she angry?
That wasn’t quite right either.She was angry.And hurt, scared, lost, and heartbroken.The list undoubtedly went on and on.What she did feel was the pressure keeping all those things locked up tight, and the fear that, if she didn’t, they would destroy her.
She needed her sketchbook.It was the only place she could safely let her feelings out, one drawing at a time.
* * *
Brennan was waiting for Trent, two horses already saddled.
“Are we not even going to talk about what you did for my sister?”
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Giant brute of a man who’s not good with anyone unless they need a beating, huh?”
He shrugged.“I have a handful of younger sisters.Are we going to get to work, or just chinwag all day?”
Shaking his head, Trent climbed into the saddle.It wasn’t a mere coincidence that Ash had sent this man.
Today’s job, or this week’s job, depending on how long it took them, was to renovate an old hunting cabin.
Brennan looked at the dilapidated structure.“Are we taking it down?”
“No.”Trent shook his head and opened the door.“Ash wants it preserved.Some kind of sentimental thing?I don’t understand, if I’m honest.It looks as if there may have been a tramp in here not long ago.”There were towels spread about, furniture was out of place, and the bed had been slept in.“Why is there a woman’s boot?”He picked it up off the floor and looked for its mate, but it didn’t seem to be there.
“I don’t ask questions,” Brennan said with a shrug, already throwing things into a pile.“If the boss says he wants it done, let’s get it done.”
He was about to throw the boot into the growing heap when he suddenly realized… it was Gwen’s.It had to be.Ash wasn’t sentimental about anything here.But he’d said fate had brought her back to his doorstep.This must have been where he’d found her.
“Don’t throw this out,” he said, holding up the boot.
Brennan paused for just a moment.“Whatever you say, boss.”
They didn’t finish the job that day, but Brennan was a good worker.They were going to be able to finish in two days what would have taken Trent more than a week on his own.He’d be loath to send the man back when the time came.
He groaned as he sank down into the bath.Every muscle in his body was sore and would be even more so tomorrow.Unfortunately, he couldn't enjoy a long soak.Those were a rare indulgence.Maggie would be waiting for him.On the days he stayed out too late, she refused to eat until he got home.
After washing away the dirt and sweat he’d accumulated, he blew out a long sigh and climbed out of the tub.He dried off and wrapped himself in his robe.Even his face felt scruffy.He liked to be presentable for Maggie.Most people would probably think that was silly, but he wanted her to know she was deserving of that, so it wasn’t uncommon for him to shave twice in a day.
He filled his wash basin and reached for his razor, but it wasn’t there.He looked down on the floor.Perhaps a maid had knocked it off.It wasn’t there either.A ball of ice dropped into his stomach.No.No, no, no.
He raced out of his room and down the hall, bursting through the door to Samantha’s dressing room.She was in the bath, his razor in her hand, desperation filling her eyes.Her hair was cut short and stuck up in all directions, a pile of what she’d removed on the floor.
He closed the door softly behind him, then held his hands up in front of him.“Please, Samantha.”He spoke quietly and moved slowly, trying his best not to frighten her.“Will you give me the razor?”
It trembled along with her body, and a single tear trickled down her cheek.Carefully, he wrapped his hand around hers, relief washing over him.At least he had control of the blade.
Slowly, her grip on it loosened, and he pulled it from her hand.He folded it shut and slipped it into his pocket.Her teeth chattered.
“Let’s get you out of there.”
“I wasn’t going to do what you think.I just…” Her voice trailed off.
