by Ava Winters
But first, she had to reach safety.
Clutching the bag tightly to her chest, Samantha forced herself to start walking. She moved quickly, stumbling in the night.
She prayed for guidance on her path, hardly able to remember where to go. There was no moon, and she could hardly see the road. But she wouldn’t let that stop her. She had to keep moving. Don’t give up, she could hear her parents telling her, over and over again, don’t give up. Be brave. Don’t give up.
Chapter 2
Jensen glanced at himself in the mirror with distaste.
His hands dropped away from the fine jacket and he shook his head. After a turn in the mirror, he decided to take the jacket off. It was new and made to fit him perfectly. But now, it felt too hot and all wrong.
The evening was warm. Warmer than it should have been – a frost was supposed to be reaching their valley that night. But he wasn’t sure the sensation he was feeling was caused by the weather. Jensen wasn’t sure he knew what was going on, at all. Only that the night was not meant to be his. He ran the back of his hand across his forehead. Maybe he was falling ill. That could explain it. Maybe it was just him. He should lie down.
Before he could take any action, however, there was a knock at the door.
“Jensen?”
Gritting his teeth, he considered not answering. But it wouldn’t matter. They knew he was home. It was his bedroom; there was nowhere else for him to be.
“Come in, Mother,” he called out reluctantly.
From the mirror, he watched as she peeked her head in, first. Finding him across the room, she smiled and stepped through. The door was left open only a crack as she made her way in. The woman was in her forties, but her beauty was still clear through the crow’s feet by her eyes. She was always smiling, always hopeful. Her dark hair was neatly tied back, and her gray eyes were clear as ever.
“There’s my handsome Jensen,” she crowed, beaming as she reached up to straighten his jacket. Though she was a good head or two shorter than his tall, lanky frame, nothing seemed to deter her in making sure her son looked his best. She ran her hands down from his shoulders to his hands. “You’ve turned into quite the gentleman.”
It was supposed to be a compliment. He knew that. Only he didn’t feel like one. There were knots inside his stomach, and all he wanted to do was jump out the window and run in the opposite direction.
But he didn’t. Raised as the firstborn on his father’s ranch, Jensen knew he had responsibilities and a duty to his family and their land. He had always known this, been raised on the principle of accountability for as long as he could remember. Doing the right thing had always been important to him. And what’s more, he liked being of service. He liked being able to help people and improve anything he could.
Except this felt different. Holding back a groan, Jensen struggled to smile. At least for his mother, he could do that much. She only wanted the best for her family, after all. As their gazes met, Jensen forced the corners of his lips to turn up.
“It’s going to be lovely,” she tried to reassure him. But there was hesitation in her voice and they both knew it. Neither of them knew how everything was going to happen. She patted his arm, anyway. “Shall we? Your father will be wondering where we are.”
Jensen had tried to ignore it for as long as he could. Yet he felt the dread climbing up his spine, tickling him in the most dreadful way. He forced a tight smile onto his lips and nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”
She didn’t say anything to that as he guided her out of the room and into the hall. It was a large home, built by his grandfather as a young man. Raised in the largest home in Kansas, Jensen knew he had lived a fortunate life.
After all, he was the son of a wealthy rancher. His grandfather had claimed a stake of land and grown it into quite the business. The Reaves family ranch was known for their strong cattle, clean business practices, and hard work ethic. He’d been raised with the understanding that all of this would be his someday, and it was his responsibility to treat it with respect and pride. It was hard work, but he had learned to enjoy it. The responsibilities set upon him had always been manageable.
Until now. Now, it felt like it was too much.
As they reached the end of the hall, Jensen tugged at his collar. It felt much too tight, all of a sudden. His steps slowed as he considered turning around to see if his shirt had begun to shrink. His mother’s grip tightened on him, however, keeping him from doing any such thing.
“There you are,” his father tutted. “I’ve been looking for you for ages.”
“Did you check my bedroom?” Jensen asked mildly.
His mother patted his arm as she let go. “Jensen, there’s no need for such cheek. He wouldn’t miss supper for the world,” she added, turning to her husband. “He’s the one member in this family who wouldn’t dream of skipping out on supper.”
The older man’s brow furrowed even as he forced a short laugh.
He had a head full of gray hair, sprinkled with white. Though he was only in his fifties, Mr. Reaves claimed it was the hard work that had done him in like that. But he was proud of his hair, his ranch, and his hard work. No one would dare tease him about any of it. He was fairly tall, though Jensen still towered over the man by a few inches. Even so, the man’s straight shoulders and permanent scowl demanded the respect of everyone who met him.
“I suppose,” he said gruffly, “you have a point, my dear. I just want to be certain about tonight’s intentions. There’s a lot to discuss and I don’t want any trouble.”
Jensen bit his tongue before offering a short nod. He wasn’t sure about any words that might come out of his mouth. Feeling his father’s gaze staring a hole through him, he turned toward the window. It faced their ranch, with the barn and stables far in the distance. That was his favorite view, being able to see their hard work create results.
It helped distract him from his parents talking quietly from across the room. Though he at first considered eavesdropping, he decided that he didn’t want to know, one way or another. It wasn’t like they were turning to him for any decision-making. Because even if he had responsibilities and worked hard, no one wanted his opinion. Just his hands and his position as a first-born son.
“I hear them.” His mother’s gasp cut through his thoughts. “The wagon. Come now, we should greet them, dear. Jensen, are you coming?”
His father answered for him before he could speak up. “Of course he is. All of us, at the door. Wait, we’re missing one. Where’s Mitchell?”
Jensen tasted something sour on his tongue. “You said he didn’t need to come tonight, so he’s probably in town walking with Miss Leisel.”
Both of his parents turned to each other before shrugging. While Jensen was the golden boy meant to do everything right, Mitchell was the younger son, free to do as he wished. They couldn’t be any closer, but Jensen found himself envying his brother’s freedom. He continued to wonder what the kid was up to as he trailed after his parents to the front of the house. Most likely, he was wrapping his arms around the pretty blonde he had adored since they were kids, teasing her as they made their way through the town.
The door opened and he found himself looking at the woman he was supposed to be doing the same activity with. Except he’d only met her twice before, and still wasn’t sure what to think about her. A tightness spread in his guts. He didn’t like it.
Mr. and Mrs. Corley offered huge smiles as they stepped inside the moment the door was opened. Jensen heard his mother inhale sharply, not having had a chance yet to say a word.
“Vance Corley.” Mr. Reaves chuckled. “About time you arrived.”
The large figure took off his hat. “Always here in the nick of time. What can I say? I have important things on my plate. The food’s not cold, is it?” He lit a cigar and Jensen forced himself not to react.
Instead, he kept his gaze focused on Caroline Corley. She was only a few years younger than himself, with dark hair and red c
heeks. Her teeth were a little big and her nose a little long, but she was quite nice-looking. Especially when she smiled. Her long hair framed her face and made her wide shoulders look a little narrower. And as she walked, she kept her chin up high, to the point where he wasn’t certain she could see the floor.
He could do worse. Jensen understood that. He dropped his gaze when she looked up at him. There were few girls as pretty as Caroline in town. And having this marriage arranged for them meant he didn’t have to worry about courting someone only to have them turn him down. A situation like this was prone to many benefits. Each of them had been recounted to him for the last couple of months, so much that he could probably echo them word for word from his father’s claims.
And yet, though he could recite them like a mantra, Jensen knew in his heart that he didn’t believe them.
“What a quaint little place.” Mrs. Corley burst through everyone and their thoughts. “How lovely. You really must give us a tour, Mrs. Reaves. Why, it’s just precious. And what is that lovely smell? No need to treat us like guests, seeing as we’re practically family. To the supper table, my dears.”
Mr. Reaves nodded. “Of course. Yes, we are quite family, aren’t we? Right this way, folks, follow me.”
Jensen trailed behind them, awkwardly trying not to stare at Caroline. He remembered his manners just in time to move her seat out for her. As everyone else sat down, he realized they’d left him to sit beside Caroline. It made sense. But as he took his seat, he couldn’t help but squirm.
He was still fidgeting with his collar as Mr. Vance Corley looked around the room. “Quite the place. I thought it was a little drab on the outside, but it’s cozy. My business connections in Chicago would find this quite charming.”
The man continued to boast of his mighty business work and connections, reminding Jensen of the conversation he’d had with his father six months ago, when they had sat down to discuss this opportunity.
By bringing the two families together, there was unlimited potential. Since Jensen had a duty to his family and to the ranch, that meant doing what was right for them. If he could bring the Corleys close to the Reaves, then that’s what he needed to do. Even if he thought Mr. Corley was boastful and Mrs. Corley was annoying and Caroline was proud.
Though his parents had told him several times he should try to get to know her, he knew that himself because a man should know his wife. But they’d hardly met. The young lady was pretty and even if they didn’t feel a connection yet, perhaps they would with time. Jensen’s gaze wandered around the room as he tried to think of something to say.
He’d learned to milk the cows, brand the cattle, and run the ranch. Now, he was going to be married to create a stronger arrangement and make sure the operation continued to grow stronger. It was only the next inevitable step for him. He was already twenty-four, so it was about time he settled. It would be quite the arrangement.
There would be benefits to the deal. But Jensen just wasn’t sure how they were going to benefit him, personally.
Cheating a glance at Caroline again, he shifted uneasily in his seat and glanced away when she turned towards him. If he was lucky, supper would fly by quickly. Dread reached out for him again. He’d lived a fortunate life. But something told him things weren’t going to go in his favor for the evening.
Chapter 3
Baker’s Creek.
She could see it in her mind’s eye. A small town with a lot of connections, a popular hub for passing travelers. Help would be there. Good people would be there. She would be safe there.
But she couldn’t see it with her eyes. As she shuffled forward in the darkness, every step grew more hesitant. There were rocks and roots she kept stumbling over. If Samantha wasn’t careful, she might trip and hurt herself. The prospect only added to the terror that held her heart in a tight hold.
Panting, Samantha forced herself to stop. She needed to breathe and surely she had gone far enough away that no one would think to follow her. With any luck, no one would know where she was.
Yet her parents hadn’t had such luck. Ducking her head beneath a tree limb, she staggered a little farther into the small grove she’d come upon. Just a moment of respite before she continued her journey. She just needed a second to catch her breath.
Leaning against the tree, Samantha clutched her stomach. She didn’t feel well. A shiver ran down her spine even as she felt the sweat drip down her nose. Clammy and dizzy, she wondered if she had pushed herself too far.
Her body let her know the answer when the contents of her stomach came up her throat. Leaning over, Samantha choked on the vomit, coughing until the last of the acid was gone. She spit and then wiped her forearm across her face. It took her another minute to catch her breath.
But even then, she could still smell smoke.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the images flooding her mind. It had been easy to keep them at bay when she had been on the move. But now that she was resting, now that she was no longer puking, all Samantha could see were the flames.
They had risen so high, so quickly. The front door of their store had simply erupted, like she had just fallen into the fireplace. Heat had drenched her face, forcing her from the doorway. She’d only stepped up to flip the store sign like her father had asked her to do while he counted the day’s earnings.
Her scream of surprised fear had caught his attention. Then, she’d heard her mother gasp as she came from the back room. They’d called her name and she’d hurried back to them, bumping into the ribbons stand on the way. She’d hit it hard enough to cause a bruise, but that hadn’t been a priority.
“What do we do?” she had cried out, running into her mother’s arms.
The two women stood frozen in place as Samantha’s father stalked over to the doors. Smoke was beginning to flood in through the cracks. He coughed and waved his hands. When he tried to touch the door handle, he shouted, “It’s hot! We can’t get out here.”
“We have to stop it,” Samantha exclaimed. As the words came out of her mouth, the flames reached the inside of the store.
It was everything they had. They’d come all that way to build a new life, putting their every penny into the store. Tears streaked down her face as she looked around to try and decide what to save.
But her mother was already tugging her back, making her trip on her feet. Adrenaline rushed through her body, but it only made her heart feel like it was going to jump right out of her chest. “We need water. Water! Or sand! What about flour?”
Hurrying back, her father shook his head. “We have to run out while we still can. Hurry! To the back door.”
In the beginning, everything had moved so quickly. So fast that Samantha couldn’t recall if she was screaming or crying or quiet after that. Except now, as her memory ran through what had happened that night, everything turned into a slow, painful blur. The burn on her calf throbbed as she tried to remember what came next. Was it shouting? Crying?
They had run to the back door at the end of the hall. Not many shops had them, especially ones as small as theirs. But her father had insisted. Someday they would have a big store, after all, and they would need a back entrance for large orders. That had made her mother laugh, Samantha remembered, but they had set it up anyway. In that moment, her heart had leapt. It would help them safely out of danger and then they could fix the store.
She kept thinking that. They would save the store. Everything would be fine. No matter the danger, she still had her parents, and everything would be fine. They had always been fine, the little family of three that they were. It made sense that they would survive this, as well.
But the back door wouldn’t budge. She’d reached it first. Tentative after learning from her father’s mistake, Samantha had gingerly touched the handle before finding it wasn’t hot. Then, she had yanked on it, ready to open the door and lead them to freedom. Except it didn’t budge. Her breath had caught in that moment as she realized how serious their situation had become.
