Page 55 of If the Boot Fits

“Climb into the back,” he ordered as he reined in the team and set the brake. “I want all of you to lay down flat in the wagon bed.”

“Do you think the others are in danger, too?” Samantha asked.

“Don’t know, but I ain’t takin’ any chances.”

Bess lifted Fergus into the back of the wagon, then looked to Martin. “Where will you take us?”

“To town. My orders were to take Miss Dearing to her aunt’s house if any trouble arose.”

But when they arrived, Aunt Regina wasn’t home.

“Drive to my house,” Bess insisted. “Samantha will be safe with us until you can notify her father.”

Martin agreed and set the team in motion, taking Samantha to the one person she most wanted to see.

Asher.

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Balanced on the roof, Asher pounded a shingle in place, then reached for another from the crate to his right. A movement from the street caught his eye, and he swiveled to get a better look. Then straightened.

That looked like the wagon Jack had borrowed from the livery this morning for the gardening trip. Only Mama Bess wasn’t driving it. A man held the reins.

Asher’s gut tightened, as did his grip on the hammer. Wanting a closer look, he crept toward the edge of the roof, staying low to avoid drawing any attention.

The driver set the brake, then swiveled on the bench, scanning the street and the few houses scattered nearby.

“All clear,” the man called.

Something in the back of the wagon shifted. A blanket slid aside, and heads popped up. Fergus clambered out of the wagon. Mama Bess had an arm wrapped around someone, but her body blocked the second woman’s face. All he could make out was her blond hair, but that was all he needed. Samantha.

No longer caring about stealth, Asher abandoned his hammer and skidded down the roofline toward the back of the house. He ignored the ladder, opting for the faster descent of dropping over the side and onto the porch railing.

“Ash!” Fergus abandoned whatever he’d been trying to take out of the back of the wagon and ran to his brother. “Someone tried to shoot Miss Dearing!”

Time suspended, much like he imagined it would when a bull gored a man in the chest and tossed him into the air. Asher felt as if he were suspended above the earth, his heart throbbing in agony, his mind a hazy blur.

Thankfully, his feet seemed to know what to do and sprinted toward the wagon.

“Samantha?”

Please, God, let her be all right.

“She’s all right, son.” Mama Bess’s words filtered through the fog of his panic but didn’t dispel the cloud.

Only when he got a full view of her, did the clouds start to lift. She raised her face and met his gaze. Her beautiful blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and the ache in his heart intensified. She was frightened. He reached for her, wanting to touch her, comfort her, and reassure himself that she was alive and unharmed. She came to him without hesitation. He fit his hands to her waist, lowered her from the wagon bed, then clutched her to his chest and held her for a single precious moment before letting her go.

“Are you hurt?”

Dirt smudged her chin, strands of disheveled hair hung in disarray around her face, and her clothes were covered in garden grime, but he didn’t see any blood. Still, he needed confirmation. Needed her answer.

Samantha shook her head. “No.”

Thank you, God!

A gentle hand touched his arm. “Better get her inside, Ash, just to be safe.”

He turned to face his mother, only then taking in the rest of the wagon’s passengers. A young woman cradling a toddler watched the goings on with wide eyes.