Page 84 of If the Boot Fits

A shot exploded. Asher dove to the side, but the expected pain didn’t rip through his chest.

Instead, Kendrick fell to his knees, then pitched forward, his face hitting the dirt inches from Asher.

A movement at the edge of the cabin drew Asher’s attention. Martin, smoking rifle still tucked against his shoulder, stood beside a lathered horse.

“You all right, Ash?”

Asher struggled to his feet, kicked Kendrick’s gun away from the man’s motionless fingers, then managed a nod. “I am now.”

Seemed the Lord wasn’t ready to welcome him through those pearly gates just yet. A fact that suited Asher just fine. He had a mite more livin’ he wanted to do here first. Starting with wrapping his arms around a certain blue-eyed woman and assuring her she was safe. Kendrick wouldn’t be hurting anyone ever again.

****

“Miss Samantha, come quick. It’s Clint!”

Mrs. Stewart’s call from the doorway popped Samantha’s eyes open from the prayer she’d been offering and galvanized her into action. Jumping up from the padded chair at the rear of her father’s bedroom, she hurried to meet Mrs. Stewart at the door.

Her heart thudding with hope, she clasped the cook’s hand. “He’s home?”

Mrs. Stewart’s dewy-eyed nod inflated Samantha’s soul with an air so light, her feet seemed to lift from the ground.

“He’s riding in now with a couple of the hands. Hurry!”

Samantha paused for only a moment, glancing back at her father’s form in his bed. Dr. Abbott bent over him, sutures in hand.

“Go ahead, miss.” The doctor tipped his head toward the door. “You’re father’s out of danger for now. We’ll need to monitor him for infection, but there’s a good chance he’ll come out of this with nothing more troubling than a stiff arm and a new scar.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

And thank you, Lord!

Samantha hurried from the room, her thoughts shifting to her brother and Asher. She ran through the kitchen and out the back door, reaching the yard at the same time a trio of riders reined in their mounts. She didn’t see Asher among them. Sheriff Jeter must’ve caught up to Duke before he made it to the cabin and rescued her brother.

“Clint!” Samantha ran to him, tears of relief clouding her eyes.

“Sam!” Clint dismounted before his horse fully halted and ran to his sister.

Samantha opened her arms and embraced him, her heart swelling to twice its normal size. Thank you, God. Thank you. She held him out from her and examined him from head to bare toes, ruffling his hair, rubbing his arms, and running a tender finger along his jaw where a bruise was beginning to form.

“It’s nothing.” Clint ducked, then tracked down her hands and clasped them in his. Wide, tortured eyes peered into her face. “How’s Da—Eli? Is he . . . ?”

“Daddy’s alive. Dr. Abbott’s in with him now.” She started tugging him toward the house. “Come. I’ll take you to him.”

He shook his head and pulled his hand free of hers. “No. He’ll not want to see me.”

Samantha’s chest ached at the lostness in his voice. She snatched his hand back and squeezed it tightly. “You’re wrong, Clint. Our father loves you. Always has, always will. He told me himself that what Duke said made no difference to him. You’re his son. In his heart as well as in the eyes of the law. He’s never giving you up. And neither am I.”

Moisture glistened in Clint’s eyes, as he struggled to come to terms with a new identity and pick up the pieces of the life Duke’s revelation had shattered.

She tugged again, and this time he followed. His body dragged heavily with reluctance, but it moved.

“He woke up when we moved him to his room and made a special request of Dr. Abbott.” She paused at the base of the back porch, her gaze locking with Clint’s.

“What’d he ask?”

“He wanted the doctor to stitch his wound in such a way that the sutures would form the shape of a crescent. Even if it meant sewing more than was strictly necessary. When Dr. Abbott asked him why, Daddy said he wanted to match his son.”

Clint rubbed the spot near his collarbone where his crescent-shaped birthmark lay beneath his shirt. Something shifted in his stance. He stood a little taller. His chin lifted, and some of the light returned to his eyes. “I want to see him.”