Page 60 of If the Boot Fits

She smiled. “You won’t. I have the two best men in the county looking after me.”

He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into a side hug. “I love you, girl.”

“I love you, too, Daddy.”

Dearing cleared his throat, then turned his attention back to the group. His gaze found Asher. “We’ll talk later about that trespassing incident,” he said.

Asher gave a sharp nod, thankful for the reprieve.

“For now, I’m going to take Samantha to her aunt’s house, where she is to stay until this matter is resolved.” He gave her a stern look, successfully stalling the protest she had started to make. “Mrs. Stewart packed you a bag. I already dropped it off at the house. Tracked Obadiah down at the church and filled him in on what’s been happening. He assured me there would be a room waiting for you when you arrived. I’ll go back to the ranch and have Duke round up the men so I can question them. We’ll get down to the bottom of this, one way or the other.”

Asher rubbed at his jaw, a thought eating away at his gut. “You might focus your attention on those who had access to Samantha’s cart on the day of her accident.”

Dearing raised a brow. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t think it was an accident.” The logic untwisted, leaving a straight path in Asher’s mind. “If Leroy’s not the perpetrator, then it stands to reason, the accident with the loose wheel was the true attacker’s first attempt. If someone had access to the cart ahead of time, he could have sabotaged the wheel nut. Blaming her death on a tragic accident would help remove suspicion.”

Dearing’s jaw tightened. “And when that didn’t work, he changed tactics to something more direct.”

Which meant Samantha wouldn’t be safe until the fiend was caught. But how could they catch the villain without using Samantha as bait?

27

Asher sat in a rocking chair on Obadiah Hopewell’s front porch, three days later, waiting for Jack to finish his lesson with Samantha. He’d been making excuses to stop by the preacher’s house every day since Samantha took up residence. If anyone commented about the regularity of his visits, he was quick to explain how he wanted to offer her a distraction from both the danger she faced and the boredom she was forced to contend with while being cooped up in her aunt and uncle’s house. All of that was true, yet those explanations failed to take into account his deepest motivation.

He simply wanted to be with her. To see her smile and hear her laugh. To touch her hand and watch her eyes soften when she looked at him.

She believed in him. Not only in his ability to keep her safe but in his character. Despite his criminal actions against her father. He didn’t deserve her faith, yet he craved it with a hunger so strong he knew he’d spend the rest of his life trying to be worthy of her good opinion.

To that end, he kept an eye on every man who walked past the parsonage that evening. Oh, he waved and nodded to those who passed by, but his outer politeness hid an inner vigilance. Was that man in the suit taking stock of the upstairs windows or just appreciating the first tinge of pink as sunset neared? Or what about the cowboy whose hat was pulled down so low Asher couldn’t see his eyes? Was his hat simply a size too big, or was he trying to hide his identity?

Then there was the large man on horseback moseying toward the house as if it were his destination. Asher’s stomach clenched as recognition dawned. This man posed no threat to Samantha. The threat to Asher, however, was a different story.

Asher pushed to his feet and leaned against the porch post. “Evenin’, Mr. Dearing.”

“Ellis.” Eli Dearing dismounted and secured his horse. “Figured I might find you here. When Clint and I stopped by yesterday, Samantha mentioned you’ve been bringing Jack by for his lessons.”

“Yep.” Asher eyed him warily as he approached the steps. “Jack will likely be done in about twenty minutes or so.”

Dearing clapped a hand on Asher’s shoulder, his grip firm. “Good. That gives us time to sit for a bit. Have a nice chat before Regina invites us in for pie.”

Asher swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

Nothing like a conversation concerning criminal misconduct to put a man in the mood for dessert. Asher stepped aside and gestured for Dearing to select his chair of choice. Dearing claimed the larger rocker, leaving Asher to squeeze his frame into a chair built for the more petite member of the Hopewell family.

Dearing pushed his hat back on his head, then pierced Asher with a stare hot enough to fire a blacksmith’s forge. “I’m a man who believes in justice, Ellis. I don’t take kindly to folks who break the law. Who got no respect for a man’s property nor his privacy. If you and me were the only two stuck in this mire, I’d haul you over to the sheriff right now and turn you in for tresspassin’. You broke the law. Ain’t no prettying that up with heartwarming stories about tryin’ to provide for your mother and brothers.”

Asher’s gut turned rock-hard from dread, but he forced himself to hold Dearing’s gaze. “You’re right. There’s no excuse to justify what I did. I regret my actions, sir, and I’ll honor whatever decision you make regarding the consequences.”

He’d been praying for mercy, but he’d accept justice. It was only right.

Dearing’s rocker creaked as the big man leaned back in his chair. “I’m glad we see eye to eye on the matter. And that you take responsibility for your actions. I respect that.” One brow lifted. “If you had tried to weasel out of your culpability, this conversation would have taken an unpleasant turn.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Asher opted for silence, barely resisting the urge to wipe at the sweat gathering along his hatband.

Samantha’s father crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Asher through narrowed eyes. “What are your intentions toward my daughter?”

Asher’s mind went horrifyingly blank. He’d been expecting a verdict regarding his crime, not a courtship interrogation. Thankfully, he had only to picture Samantha in his mind for all his intentions to come flooding back into his brain.