Her Secret Past (Black Hills Brides Book 1)

by Christine Sterling

  Samantha was already missing his warmth. “But can’t you stay?”

  Seth chucked and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to leave you. But with how riled up I feel, it’s best I return when you are asleep.” With that, he winked and exited the room. All Samantha was left with was the feeling of his lips on her etched into her brain and she wondered how she could ever get to sleep.

  Chapter 8

  Dirk hurried angrily down the street, his boots clanking on the ground. He pushed his hair out of his face, wincing as his fingertips touched the bruise on his forehead. It had been a few weeks since the altercation behind the bar. His bruises were disappearing but the pain was still fresh in his mind. While he hadn’t procured all the money, he was able to sell a few articles of jewelry he had swiped from his brother’s house months ago, to come up with half of the money he owed. Frank wasn’t too impressed with the gesture, but after Dirk had convinced him to give him a few more weeks to come up with twice the amount of money he owed, Frank was more inclined to let him in.

  So now the plan was in motion. He had been trying to get in touch with Samantha, but every time he tried to call her at her house, her maid told him she wasn’t taking visitors, either because she was under the weather or because she wasn’t home. Something was telling him she wasn’t being truthful, especially since he heard around town no one had seen Samantha for weeks. There were murmurs she had left town. And if she had, Dirk was in more trouble than he imagined.

  When he got to her porch, he walked up the steps and banged on the door. After a few minutes, the door squeaked open and her maid, Misty, appeared in the doorway. “Mr. O’Donnell, how lovely to see you, again,” she said. The distain wasn’t lost on him, as he pushed back his hair so he could see her clearly.

  “I was wondering if the Samantha was home. I have some critical issues to talk to her about.”

  Misty frustratingly shook her head. “As I have said before, as I will say again, the lady is not taking visitors. If you would kindly go, I have some more cleaning I have to get to.”

  As Misty started to shut the door, Dirk threw his hand out, stopping her. “Wait, it’s something important.”

  Misty stared at him, her face impassive. She put her hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes. “Important?”

  “Yes, very important. My brother left me some…items before he died. I need to give them to her.”

  Misty huffed. “If it is items you need to give her, you can leave them and I’ll be sure to give them to her.” He could tell she didn’t believe him. He needed to think of something to convince her.

  Desperately, he thought about what would be convincing enough to make Misty give him what he needed. A thought entered his head and he knew it was worth a try. “James left me paperwork. It has to do with the factory. If I don’t talk to Samantha soon, it may mean the factory must stop production.”

  Misty’s brow furrowed and she frowned. He knew she was thinking of all those people out of work. He had seen Misty around town before, running house errands and how she pitied the poor people on the street, giving them the occasional bread, she siphoned from her weekly grocery shopping. He knew she wouldn’t refuse him entry if it meant hurting the lives of others, especially poor families.

  Misty twisted as she stood, internally fretting about the dilemma Dirk had given her. He was congratulating himself on how sly he was, as he waited for her impending answer. Misty sighed, looking a bit defeated. “The lady isn’t here right now.”

  Dirk frowned. This what not the answer he was expecting. “But, you don’t understand…”

  Misty interrupted him. “No, you don’t understand. The lady is physically not here and hasn’t been for the past few weeks. To be truthful, I don’t know where she is. Mr. Sullivan has dropped by a few times to gather some sparse items here and there for her. I haven’t seen the lady since the day you came by.”

  Dirk was at a loss for words. “She hasn’t been here?”

  Misty frustratingly tapped her foot. “As I said before, she hasn’t been here. Maybe you should pay Mr. Sullivan a visit, as he will probably better help you. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she added before she slammed the door in his face.

  It took a few seconds for Dirk to realize he was staring at the door. Where had that wretched woman gone to? There was nowhere to hide in this city without anyone knowing. She must be somewhere far away and if he was going to get to find her, he was going to have to talk to her only relative.

  Pat was gazing out the window, admiring what a bright and cheerful day it was and lamenting how he was stuck in that bed when a rush of frigid air breezed into his room. He tugged his sheets closer to his chest and turned to see where the breeze was coming from. Near the doorway stood Dirk O’Donnell. He looked as if he had seen better days like he had aged 20 years. There were patches of bruises all over his face and it appeared as if he hadn’t shaved in weeks. His hair was long and brushing past his collar.

  Pat gripped his sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white. “What are you doing here?” he spat at him.

  Dirk gave a villainous chuckle and slowly closed the door behind him. Pat felt trapped. Memories came to the surface that he fought back. He knew he didn’t have the strength to fight or run and he didn’t know what Dirk was up to. If he had any type of weapon in him, Pat could be dead before he could scream for help. He had to play it smart and see what Dirk was after.

  “I was hoping you could direct me towards the whereabouts of your daughter.”

  Dirk went to sit down in the chair next to Pat. “My daughter is at her home. If you need her, inquire there.”

  Dirk had an evil glint in his eye as he dragged his chair closer to Pat’s bed, so his knees touched the metal frame. “One would think, a respectable lady, who had just lost her husband, would be at home in mourning. But it seems that your daughter has run off, as no one has seen her for weeks.”

  Pat felt his heart racing but kept his face as blank as possible. “What would give you that impression?”

  “Because I was just at her house and she was not there. And Misty informed me that she hasn’t been there for a while.”

  “Misty is mistaken.”

  Dirk’s calm was diminished in seconds after Pat’s statement. “Don’t treat me like a fool, old man!” he bellowed. By the volume, Pat wondered if someone had heard him outside and would inquire about the noise. But seconds passed and no one came to check up on him. This was a troubling sign.

  Dirk continued, “I know she isn’t here and I know you know where she is. Now you are going to tell me where she is or I’ll make sure you’ll never walk out of this hospital alive.”

  As scared as Pat was at that moment, he knew that it was more important to keep his daughter safe. And he needed to distract him as best as he could. He turned his fear into courage. “So, you’ll take care of me as you did James?”

  Dirk looked stunned at his words but quickly regained composure. The wheels were turning in his head. “You don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “I saw you that night at the factory. You were the one who killed James. Your only brother! How could you? How can you live with that?”

  Fuming, Dirk got up and leered over Pat. “I did what I had to do to survive.”

  “You made a deal with the devil that night when you took the life of your own brother. It will come back to haunt you one day.”

  Dirk smirked. “I doubt that. I’m so close to everything I ever wanted. You’re just in the way.”

  Pat squared his shoulders and stared up at Dirk. “I would never tell you were my daughter is. You will never lay a hand on her while I am breathing.”

  It only took seconds. Dirk grasped the collar of Pat’s nightgown, pulling it up close to Dirk’s face. “Don’t tempt me. I killed my own brother, so killing you will be easy.”

  Pat looked Dirk dead in the eye. “As I said before, I am not telling you were she is.”

  Fire burned
in Dirk’s eyes. “Then you leave me no choice.”

  Dirk’s hands closed on Pat’s neck. It wasn’t until Pat started to feel lightheaded when he realized he couldn’t breathe. He clawed and scratched at Dirk’s arms, drawing blood but Dirk kept his fingers wrapped around his neck. The world started to fade in and out. Pat started to lose consciousness. As the ceiling came out of focus and Dirk’s face vanished from his view, Pat’s final thought was with his daughter; he saved her one last time. And true to his word, it would be over his dead body.

  Chapter 9

  Samantha skipped through town, tugging her basket close to her chest and humming cheerfully to herself. She was on her way to the post office to pick up the mail before Seth and she were to head back to their home. The thought made Samantha smile. She had finished her apprenticeship with the hotel (a few days past the original end day) and was eager to get back home. She couldn’t believe how she had easily recognized the place as her home in such a brief time. There was no other place she would rather be than on that farm with her dashing husband.

  She was walking away from the hotel with new cooking skills and a new sense of purpose. Although she was nowhere near chef level, she learned a few recipes and tricks to get her by, and with a little practice, Mr. Higgins assured her, she would be prepared for anything. After their quiet talk and earth shattering kiss, Seth was staying true to his word. When they had traveled to the tailor shop the next day to pick up her newly fixed dresses, he formally introduced her to the seamstress as his new bride. Mrs. Simons was beaming excitedly and invited Samantha to a ladies luncheon the following month to welcome her to Black Hills. Samantha looked forward to meeting new friends.

  When she entered the post office she went straight to the counter and requested their mail. As the postman deposited the letters into her hands, she noticed the first letter was from her Uncle Colin. The pen strokes were short and quick on the paper and she thought to herself how odd it was. Uncle Colin had such beautiful penmanship, with long strokes and beautiful curls. But this mail had short, rushed lines, done in a hurry.

  The postman took notice of her intent staring. "That letter came in late last night. Seemed to be in a rush," he continued, as he shuffled more letters and papers on the counter. Samantha thanked him and exited the post office. As she held the letter in her hands, she wondered if she should open it now. Dread filled her stomach as she went to tear the lip of the envelope.

  She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. As she turned, her husband’s smiling face came into view. "Sam, are you ready to head home?"

  His dazzling smile made her lose her breath for a few minutes. Since that kiss, she was doing everything in her power not to think of repeating it. But when he slipped into her bed every night since, hours after she was supposed to be asleep, it was hard to stop from turning over and kissing him senseless. He hadn't pushed her any further as he had promised her, but that didn't stop her from fantasizing about him. And when she thought about those fantasies she felt a wave of embarrassment and shame.

  But really, what was there to be ashamed of? They were married. It was natural to want your husband, she tried to convince herself. It was just turning into an uphill battle between her head and her heart. Seth noticed she was still staring at him, lost in thought. "Is everything alright?" he asked, concern edging into his voice.

  Samantha snapped to attention. "Oh, nothing. You just startled me."

  Seth scratched his forehead, unconvinced. However, he hid his apprehension and slipped his hand into hers. "The wagon is over here."

  As he led her to their transport home, she remembered she was still clutching the letter in her hands. She buried the urge to open it by stuffing the letter into her basket and vowing to open it when she got home. For the duration of the trip she was going to enjoy her husband's company and the warm feeling she felt down to her toes as she held his hand.

  But when they got home, there was laundry to do, dishes to wash, floors to be swept, and dinner to be made. Her chores were so immense it wasn't until late at night as she was undressing she remembered the letter. She found the basket at the foot of her bed, where she had dropped it off after she had emptied the necessary items in the kitchen. She held the letter carefully in her hands and slowly tore open the envelope. She pulled out a small piece of paper, with the same short brush strokes that were on the outside. Whatever was written was written in haste. She started to read the letter slowly.

  Dearest Samantha,

  I'm writing to you with warm regards and to alert you of my impending visit. I have just finished packing and will be boarding the train in the morning to arrive in five days’ time. If this letter gets to you in the time I have requested, we will only be apart for another three days.

  I have missed you dearly and I do wish this visit was a leisure trip. I have some business we need to discuss, first of which revolving around James’ estate. His will was found and read while you were gone and it seems he had the foresight to leave everything in your name. Therefore, we have papers we need to file to get everything transferred.

  The last item of business is something I have dreaded to write since I found out the devastating news. I've done my best to avoid mentioning it until this very moment because I still can't believe it’s true and I'm hoping someone will walk through the door to my office and tell me it was a grave mistake. But I can't stall much longer and you deserve to know. Your father passed away this morning. We still don't know the details as of late, but the doctor has assured me it was a peaceful transition. I wish I was there with you, telling you this in person. But I know that if you knew I had known the entire time I was traveling, you would be heartbroken I sat on that information. You'd want to know the moment I knew, so please forgive me for not writing as soon as it happened. I just wanted to make sure I had everything in order before I could even think of writing this. It's so hard. Even with it being written right here, I still cannot fathom it.

  I take great comfort knowing Pat is with your mother now, safely in heaven’s arms. It's a thought that gets me through it all and I hope you can hold it to your heart and it helps yourself through it too.

  Love,

  Uncle Colin

  Samantha sat there, stunned to silence. She started to feel light headed as she realized she hadn't breathed since finishing the letter. She turned back to it and reread the last part, hoping she had read it wrong. This was a terrible mistake. Her father couldn't be dead. When she had left him, he was on the mend; it was one of the reasons why she was able to leave in the first place. Her father promised her that he was fine, better than fine.

  A cold chill creeped into her chest as the realization had dawned on her. He lied to her, which was the only explanation. He smiled and assured her everything was fine because she wouldn't have left otherwise and she was a damn fool for believing him. What did she think really? That he was magically better? He was suffering this whole time and here she was dallying with her husband. She clutched the letter to her chest as tears started falling down her face.

  He was gone and now she had no one left. First her mother, then James. And now, her father. Would no one stay with her? Was it really that hard to keep a promise? She started sobbing, burying the letter further into her chest. She didn't hear the door as Seth entered the room and ran to her side as soon as he saw her crying. "Sam, what's wrong?" When she didn't answer, he took her chin so he could see her eyes as water started to pool at her eyelids. "Sam, honey, tell me what happened."

  She looked up at her husband's face, internally hating herself as she admired his handsome features. She buried herself in his chest, sobbing more. "He's gone!" she shouted into his shirt. "I never even got the chance to say goodbye.”

  She lifted her head up, to look at Seth with her pleading eyes. "I never should have left." She dipped her head again, grabbing his forearms so the letter fell to the ground. She felt Seth grab her back as he leaned down and scooped the paper up with his left hand. She kept crying, her sob
s echoing in their barren room. After a few minutes, Seth leaned down and kissed her head. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said, hugging her closer.

  It just made Samantha cry even more. She clutched the arms of his shirt, grasping the fibers in her hand and making indentions in his skin from her nails. Seth just hugged her closer, wrapping his arms around her tiny waist, as if he was trying to absorb her into his skin. He rocked her back and forth, admitting soothing sounds in her ear. But no matter what he did, Samantha just cried and cried, until she felt dry inside. She clung to him for hours and feel asleep in his arms. When she awoke in the middle of the night, he was still holding her, only now they were lying in their bed.

  She was nestled on his shoulder blade, with his chin on her forehead. She fit perfectly next to him. But as she stared into his peaceful face, she had this hollow ache in her she didn't know how to fill. It was like her heart was being ripped into two. She didn't know how she could continue this way, with herself being broken. She wanted to put everything back together, but she didn't know where to start.

  She did the only thing that felt right at that moment. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his. It took a few moments, and with a bit of coaxing on her part, she felt him respond as he reached up and tugged her body closer. She sighed as he opened her mouth with his tongue, tasting her lips with so much intensity she felt like she was on fire. They kissed desperately for a few more minutes until reality started to settle in for him. As if he had woken up from a trance, Seth bolted upright, letting Samantha fall from his lap onto the foot of the bed.

  Seth settled his breathing, trying to keep his emotions in control. Samantha felt like pouting. She didn't want him to be in control. "Samantha, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. It is wrong to take advantage of you in this type of situation."

  Samantha rolled her eyes and crawled towards him. She took his head into her hands and pressed her head forward until her lips were inches from him. “I liked it better when you called me Sam. And maybe I want to be taken advantage of."