Samantha rolled her eyes and slapped his arm. “Men.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered without hesitation.
She laughed and slapped his arm again. “Very well. If you win…if you lose…” she trailed off and cocked her head to the side in thought. “If you lose, you escort me to a dance.”
Jack chuckled. “Sounds like a win-win to me.”
Samantha snorted. “You haven’t been to one of them.”
Jack aimed a charming smile at her. “Ah, but on your arm, any party would be better.”
Samantha patted his arm. “Flatterer.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered without hesitation.
“So, Mister Flatterer, would you like to walk me home?”
Jack looked at the busy street going through the center of downtown around them with a thoughtful gaze. “Either you live really close or you like long walks.”
Samantha smiled. “Didn’t we already establish that I like long walks?”
“Ah, but that was because we took so many breaks down on the beach.”
“True. So which would you prefer? Live close or long walk?”
Jack gave her a mischievous smile. “Yes.”
She bumped her hip against him. “Well, if you like it that way, I can just let you find out when we arrive.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“You know, if I felt like taking advantage of your ignorance, I could just walk in circles to lengthen the walk.”
Jack smiled. “And if I felt like it, I could let you take advantage of me.”
Samantha slapped him again. “You’re impossible.”
Jack chuckled. “Yes, Ma’am.” He smiled at her and shifted the arm she held. “Would my lady accept an escort home?”
Samantha sighed and leaned her head against his chest. “Of course, she would.”
He pulled in a deep breath in pleasure. He would give her an eternity to stop that.
It turned out to be a long walk, and he enjoyed every second of it, right up until they came to a stop at a large gate in the middle of the oldest neighborhood on all of New Earth. Not counting the Chinese of course.
Jack looked up at the gate in awe and scratched his chin with his free hand, deep in thought. “This is McEntyre House,” he finally whispered. Any fan of music had at least heard of McEntyre House. McEntyre Studios published some of the best musicians on the market, and he was standing at the front gate of the owners of McEntyre Studios.
Samantha smiled. “Yes it is.”
Jack studied her for several seconds. “You live in McEntyre House?”
Samantha straightened her frame and ran her free hand down her blouse as if she were straightening it. “I do.”
Jack studied her for several more seconds. “Who are you?” he finally asked.
She let out a long breath and her smiled softened, but he could see worry in her eyes. “I’m Sam.” Her grip tightened on his arm and he realized she didn’t want him to ask again.
Jack cocked his head to the side, and chewed his lip. If she was related to the McEntyres, she probably had experience with people who just cared about that connection, not her. He smiled and patted her hand. “Sam. It’s a good name,” he whispered.
Samantha sighed and leaned her head against his chest. He let out a long breath of his own, and would have given her an eternity to stop that. Eternity as it happened was far too short. The gate opened and Samantha laughed.
“I think Daddy saw us.”
Jack blinked. “Daddy?”
“Yeah. I think he wants to see you.”
A shiver ran down his spine. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil,” he quoted.
Samantha slapped his arm. “Stop that. He’s not that bad, Jack.”
Jack aimed an upraised eyebrow at her. “Daddies are never that bad to their little girls. The young punk who thinks he’s worthy of dating her though? Daddies eat them for lunch. And they tend to start the mixing process with shotgun shells at full rack.”
Samantha laughed at him.
“What? You think that’s funny? If I told you a tithe of my Daddy stories you would know why every boyfriend you’ve ever had has met you at the bottom of the stairs, quaking in his boots. I’ll give you a hint. It’s not just because you look beautiful in that dress.”
Samantha studied him for several seconds, brow furrowed. “What makes you think I’ve ever been through that?”
Jack smiled back and shrugged. “Call it a hunch.”
Samantha shook her head and pulled him through the gate. They walked down the brick driveway, under trees that arched overhead, shielding them from the dull red star. Jack’s eyes adjusted to the gloom and they traveled the length of the driveway without difficultly.
They walked out of the line of trees and Jack got his first clear look at the house. The mansion. It was a huge, Victorian-style genuine wood-built house, painted a bright white. Jack whistled and Samantha guided him to the front entrance. They walked up the stairs, and Jack’s boots echoed on the wood planking of the porch.
The heavy wood door opened as they approached, and Jack followed her into the house, pulling his cowboy hat off his head in reflex. His boots echoed on the hard wood flooring, and he looked at the main entry hall in amazement. He could feel the acoustics, and this room would be amazing with a few musicians welcoming guests. He could hear the music bouncing off the walls and smiled.
Jack looked over at the stairs leading up to a balcony high above them. “So this is where your quaking boyfriends waited as you walked down the stairs?” he asked with a mischievous smile.
She stopped in her tracks and just looked at him, conflicting emotions running over her face. “Jack?”
“Yes?” he asked with a smile.
Samantha whipped out of his arm, grabbed his scarf, and pulled him down to kiss him full on the lips. An electric shock ran through him and he stood still, rooted to the spot. She pulled away, slipped her arm back inside his, and bumped him with her hip.
“Let’s go.”
Jack licked his lips and stepped forward with her, feeling invincible. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Samantha guided them past the stairs and into a small hall at the end of the main entry hall. She opened a door on the side and the soothing smell of fire and true paper books wafted out into the hall. She pulled him in and his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting without a pause. He scanned the room, taking in the dark wood walls and the crackling fireplace. Books filled one of the walls from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. The painting of a ship dominated another wall, and a beautiful rug covered the center of the hard wood flooring.
What dominated the room itself though was the red leather chair in front of the fire, and the man who sat in it. A confident smile covered the man’s face, over a black suit and crossed legs. This was his domain, and this man was king of it, with no worries that some upstart was going to take it from him. Jack liked him instantly.
“You must be Jack,” the man said, waving one of the hands draped over the chair arms.
“Yes, Sir,” Jack said with a half bow.
The man shifted in his chair, head cocking back and forth with a wry smile on it. “Which makes you the one hanging around my daughter lately.” It wasn’t a question.
Jack cleared his throat. “Sir, I think it more accurate to say that she chooses to spend time with me.”
Samantha’s father chuckled and waved his hand towards a pair of chairs under the ship painting. “You can sit down if you’d like.” While the man was courteous enough to speak softly, Jack recognized the command that he would like to sit down.
Jack stepped over and sat down in one of the very comfortable chairs while Samantha took the other. He hung his cowboy hat off one chair arm and held her father’s gaze, keeping his back straight to show he respected the man. “Thank you, Sir.”
Her father waved his hand and turned his head to the side as if it was nothing. “Tell me Son, do you know
how many young men try to court my daughter because they want a piece of this?” he asked, waving his hand around the room.
Jack pulled in a deep breath and considered his words for a moment. And then he dove in with a smile. “Sir, I’d wager that a lot of boys have stood at the bottom of that staircase out there, quaking in their boots because you put the fear of God in them.”
The father’s smile turned proud. “You would be right.”
“I’d also wager that none of them have measured up to what either you or her demand and deserve.”
Her father chuckled and reached for a drink on the table next to him. “You do have a silver tongue, Jack,” he said and took a sip of the drink.
Jack spread his arms out wide. “I’ve always found it better to talk nice, Sir. It’s saved me from getting shot more than once.”
Her father laughed in between sips. “You, Jack, are a scoundrel.”
Jack smiled. “Yes, Sir.”
Samantha’s father placed the drink down and rubbed his jaw before giving Jack a speculative look. “I was quite the scoundrel in my youth. I had a lot of fun with the girls. Tell me, Jack, have you had a lot of fun?”
Jack recognized the minefield being laid before him and decided to jump right over it. “Sir, life would not be worth living if it wasn’t fun.”
Her father scratched his chin with one thumb and aimed a shrewd look at Jack. “My daughter’s very attractive, isn’t she?”
“Yes, Sir,” Jack answered with a nod.
Her father leaned forward in his chair and stared at Jack. “Do you know how many guys latch onto her just because they want to get in her pants?”
“Daddy,” Samantha growled through pursed lips. Her father ignored her attempt to derail him and continued to stare at Jack.
Jack raised one finger. “Probably many, Sir. Though I’d like to note for the record that she wears skirts.” Her father’s eyes flashed and Jack figured he should hurry up with the second point. “But I can assure you that my ultimate goal is not to get inside her skirts.”
Samantha shifted in her chair, and he knew she was staring at him. Her father simply cocked his head to the side and raised a disbelieving eyebrow at Jack. “So…what? I’m supposed to believe you’re a harmless poofter?”
“Daddy!” Samantha shouted in a far more aggrieved tone.
Jack just cleared his throat though. “No, Sir. I’d never expect you to be that foolish.” Her father aimed a measuring look at him and waved for him to continue.
“Don’t answer him, Jack!” Samantha shouted at him
Jack looked at her and smiled. “What I mean to say is, I don’t do casual affairs,” he whispered, and her eyes opened wide. “They always end badly, with a lot of pain spread around. And pain’s the last thing I want for you.”
Samantha’s breath escaped and she leaned back in her chair again, a soft smile appearing on her face.
But when Jack turned to her father, the man’s eyes were narrowed. “You would not be the first young man to come in saying that.”
Jack smiled. “But I bet I’m the first who meant it, Sir.”
“And what make you think that some other boy never did?” her father said with narrowed eyes.
“Because I’m here, and he’s not,” Jack said, raising his palms to the man to show that he was being utterly truthful.
Her father leaned back in his chair and considered Jack for a long time. “OK,” he finally said in a gruff tone. “What do you think of my daughter?”
Jack smiled and sucked in a deep breath. It was time to impress the man. “Sir, you raised a lively and intelligent young lady. She’s got a wit that is fun to spar with. She knows she’s amazing and that she’s worth a good man. She’s not going to take the first young punk off the street, which I suppose is why I’m here right now. She’s smart enough to know what she wants, she’s proud enough to demand it, she’s strong enough to grab it, and she’s stubborn enough not to let go.”
Her father nodded slowly. “How do you feel towards my daughter?”
Jack sighed. “Well, Sir, I like her. I enjoy spending time with her, and love the feel of her arm in mine. And I’m attracted to her in ways that I’m certain you understand, Sir.” He chewed his lip and looked away for a moment before looking her father in the eyes again.
“I want to wake up a hundred years from now, Sir, knowing I’ve never wasted my time with someone I didn’t really care about. You’ve got an amazing daughter, and I want to spend my time with her, Sir. I want to know her favorite color, the name of the first boy she kissed, her favorite teacher. I want to be there, not for this,” he said, waving his hand at the library, “but…because she would rather spend time with me than without.”
Her father leaned back in his chair again and rubbed his jaw. “You are not what I expected.”
Jack shifted to the side with a smile. “I get that a lot, Sir.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed and he grabbed his drink again. “So what should I do with you?” he asked and took another sip.
Jack looked at Samantha and saw her smirking at him. He remembered his answer to a very similar question from her. He doubted the same answer would work with her father. He smiled back at her father.
“Sir, you have raised a very smart and lively young woman. I think that you should trust her and respect her enough to give your blessing to her choice of men to spend time with.”
Her father pursed his lips, flicked his eyes over to Samantha for a moment, and turned back to Jack with a grunt. “And what should I do if she turns out to be wrong about this young upstart? What if he’s just a really good liar with a silver tongue that is really good at getting what he wants before he leaves town?”
Jack let out a long breath and spread both arms out again. “That’s a risk we all take, Sir, when we seek to enjoy the time of another. Are they who they seem to be? Most of us make ourselves better than we are to attract someone, and then when we don’t need to anymore, we drop that mask and show them who we really are. It is often not the person we claimed to be. How many marriages have you seen break up because of this, Sir?”
Samantha’s father chewed on that for a few seconds. “Too many,” he finally said and looked at her again. “And I don’t want to see her hurt like that.”
Jack looked him full in the eye and smiled. “Neither do I, Sir.”
Her father pursed his lips and frowned at Jack. “Tell me, what would you do if I told you to leave and never come back and to never see my daughter again?”
Jack let out another long breath, and judged that now was not the time to stop telling the full truth. “Well, Sir, I would leave your home, your property, and I would never come back. And I would see your daughter whenever and wherever she wanted to see me outside your property.” He looked at the man and smiled. “I will respect your property and your wishes, Sir. And I will respect her, and her wishes.”
Her father mulled that over in his mind for a few seconds before answering. “Have you ever regretted flaunting a father’s wishes like that?”
Jack sighed and shook his head. “No, Sir. Oh, it’s not always ended well, and I have the scars to prove it.” Jack cleared his throat and his face darkened. “But there was one case. There was this girl who was…amazing.” He chewed his lip and shook his head. “She had so much talent it was scary. First time she saw me, I was plucking away at some stupid tune on my guitar that I just couldn’t make sound the way I meant it to. I could hear the note in my head but I couldn’t make it. She grabbed the guitar out of my hands and played the tune the way it sounded in here,” he said with a tap of a finger against his temple. “She had a natural talent that blew my mind, and her father wouldn’t let her use it.”
Jack shook his head again. “We played during every study period, and she snuck out at night to see me, and at least once he waved a shotgun in my face when he caught me with her. We got…close…and one day she trusted me enough to show me why she always wore long sleeve shirts and
jeans.” Jack pulled in a deep breath and tried to keep the flash of anger from taking over. He breathed in and breathed out, felt it fade, and the present snapped back into focus.
Her father leaned back and rubbed his jaw. He glanced at Samantha for a moment. “I see.”
Jack sighed and shook his head. “That’s not the end, Sir. We skipped school the next day while he was at work and I helped her move out and drove her to her aunt’s house. She was free to sing with her cousin there, and soon she started wearing short-sleeved shirts and shorts, sundresses, or whatever else she wanted. She was…away…when Yosemite fell and killed everyone in International Falls.” Jack released a long breath before continuing. “If I’d let her father chase me away, I never would have seen the bruises under her shirt, she’d be dead today, and nobody but me and a few others would even remember that she ever lived.”
Samantha’s farther nodded with an impressed look on his face. “So you saved her life,” he said, and Jack knew he had the man. It wasn’t done. It would never really be done, but the man knew at least a bit of what to expect now, and was willing to live with it.
Jack smiled at him. “No, Sir. She saved her own life.” The father frowned and Jack smiled. “She knew what she was doing when she let me see those bruises. She wasn’t looking for someone to save her. She knew what needed doing. She just needed some help to do it. Like I said, Sir, she was…amazing. And because of her, I will never, ever, regret the fact that I have ignored fathers’ wishes when it comes to their daughters.”
Samantha’s father shook his head slowly and glanced at her for a moment. “You stood by this girl when it counted.”
Jack glanced at Samantha to see her looking at him in calm acceptance. He turned back to her father with a smile. “And I always will, Sir.”
Her father chuckled and extended his hand. “I never thought I’d be approving of a man who just told me to my face that he would ignore me if I told him to never see my daughter again.”
Jack took his hand and smiled back. “We live in a strange world, Sir.”
Forge of War (Jack of Harts) Page 26
