Chapter 7 #2
She gasped, her stomach clenching as if she'd missed a step while going down a flight of stairs. She looked up into Trent’s eyes, tears already pricking the corners of her own. “All of them.”
“Should we just start with the one in the front then?”
She closed her eyes for a moment. He hadn’t given her a chance to brace herself before seeing Norman’s face. “What are we doing with it?” Her heart still fluttered like a sparrow’s wings.
Trent tore the first page out of the book and held it against the punching bag. “You’re going to unleash all those feelings you’ve been holding in. And he’s going to be on the receiving end this time.”
As she stared at the sketch, what she felt was fear, and it sent tremors through her body. The urge to flee was nearly overwhelming. She was terrified of facing the emotions she worked so hard to keep locked up. She closed her eyes again as a single tear trickled down her cheek.
Trent’s hand rested gently on her shoulder. “You’re not alone.”
When she looked up at him, ferocity burned in his eyes. Strength radiated from him and seemed to bolster her own. Slowly, she nodded.
“Remember your form,” he said softly. “It’s important so you don’t hurt yourself.”
She nodded again, determination straightening her spine. Despite that, her first punch was not very powerful.
“Think about something painful you had to endure because of him.”
There was so much. So many times he’d sent her to someone he knew would hurt her.
“There isn’t one thing that stands out from the others.
It’s that he did it again”—she slammed her fist into the picture of his face—“and again.” Five more times, she shouted the word and threw another punch, tears blurring her vision, until the sobs overcame her, and she collapsed into Trent’s waiting arms.
“Why did he do that?” she wailed. “He was supposed to love me and care for me.”
Trent held her close and rubbed a strong hand over her back as she cried. “I don’t know why he did that. But you didn’t deserve it.”
Tears blurred her vision. “How can you be so sure of that?”
“Well, no one deserves what you went through,” he said, continuing to rub her back while she cried. “But you are kind and caring and deserve to be shown that in return.”
His warmth and support wrapped around her, along with his arms. No one had ever shown her such gentle kindness before.
“Thank you, Trent. I am so grateful for everything you’ve done for me.” She rested her hand against the front of his trousers. “Will you allow me to do something for you in return?” His breathing hitched but his interest was clear almost immediately as he grew beneath her palm.
“Please don’t do that, Samantha.”
A part of her was relieved that he’d stopped her, that he’d proven, once again, that he was a good man.
That she was safe with him, even if she still struggled to believe it.
She stepped back and looked up into his eyes.
“But I don’t understand. How else can I show my gratitude?
You’ve done so much for me, and I don’t have any other way of being worthy of your kindness. ”
He took her hands in his. “You are enough, Samantha.” His gaze bored into hers.
“You are enough. It would be hypocritical of me to tell you to just believe that you are worthy. I know how hard that can be. But I am simply trying to help in the only way I can, and it is my pleasure to do so. You don’t need to do anything in return.
” He squeezed her hands gently. “Besides, if I let you do something like that, your brother will kill me, and I’d prefer to stay alive a bit longer if I can. ”
She laughed and wiped the remaining tears from her eyes with a nod. Her brother probably would kill him.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a strong squeeze. “You’ve endured enough difficulty today. It’s time for something fun. Do you ride?”
“I love riding. I don’t have proper attire for it anymore, but I’m sure I can manage.”
“Let’s get some sunshine on our faces and air moving through our lungs. Later, we’ll see that you get new riding attire.”
* * *
Trent had trouble concentrating as they galloped across the grounds. Her smile was distracting him. It was the first time he’d seen her even close to carefree, and he didn’t want to miss a second of it.
Eventually he slowed and she pulled up beside him. “Do you mind if we make a quick stop? I’d like to check on a tenant.”
“Of course not.” Her breathing was heavy, her mouth in a wide smile.
He helped her down from the saddle and she walked beside him to the door. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Elmhurst.”
“Mr. Gibson. Please, come in.” She pulled the door open wide to welcome them into her home.
“Allow me to introduce Miss Allister. She is a guest of His Lordship, and she was kind enough to accompany me today.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Allister. Would the two of you like some tea?”
There was a long, low whistle, and Samantha instantly stepped behind him, her fingers gripping the back of his jacket. He whipped around, but Mrs. Elmhurst was quicker.
“Anthony John Elmhurst!” The boy was barely sixteen, but taller than his mother by a foot.
Despite that, he immediately bowed his head.
“If I ever hear or see behavior like that out of you again, you won’t be able to sit for a week!
Don’t think you’re too big to be put over my knee.
Your father's passing does not give you an excuse for bad manners or disrespect. Do you understand me?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Mother.”
“It’s not me you need to apologize to. Miss Allister is a guest of His Lordship and a guest in our home. Now come and greet her with the respect she deserves.”
Trent moved aside, hating the terror in Samantha’s eyes. He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “You’re safe.”
She slipped her hand into his with a nod as the boy approached. He was timid and fidgeted nervously.
“Apologies, Miss Allister. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. You’re just so pretty, but I won’t do that no more.”
“Anymore,” his mother corrected.
He ducked his head again. “I won’t do that anymore.”
“Thank you, Anthony,” Samantha said quietly. Her grip on Trent’s hand loosened slightly.
“I’m sure Mr. Gibson has some work you can do tomorrow to help you remember your manners in the future.”
Trent nodded. “There will be plenty of stables that need to be mucked out in the morning.”
The boy sighed. “I said I won’t do it again.” He turned a pleading look on his mother.
“He’ll be there, bright and early. And if I get any more grumbling about it, he’ll be working with a sore backside.”
Crimson filled his cheeks, but his mother merely nodded toward Trent.
“I’ll be there first thing, Mr. Gibson.”
Trent placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I know you’re going through a hard time right now with the loss of your father, but you’re lucky it was your mother who stepped in and not me. I will not tolerate disrespect of any woman. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” He nodded. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Trent patted his shoulder. “You’re a good lad, Anthony. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’d be very glad of that tea you offered, Mrs. Elmhurst.” Samantha knew exactly how to bring an end to the tension.
She sat close to him on the sofa. He didn’t like that she was still nervous, but the fact that she was seeking him out for reassurance felt like an enormous accomplishment.
Just as they all sat, one of the younger ones started crying in a back bedroom. Anthony jumped to his feet. “Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll tend to her. You enjoy your visit.”
She sighed as he hurried from the room. “He really is a good boy.”
“I know he is,” Trent reassured her. “He has big shoes to fill.”
She nodded. “That he does. His father was a good man.”
“How are you holding up, Mrs. Elmhurst?” Her husband had only been gone a month or so.
“As well as I can be, thanks to you. I really appreciate all of your support, Mr. Gibson.” She paused for a moment.
“Lord knows it would have been much more difficult with Mr. Warwick. That man certainly should have had a thrashing in his younger years to teach him some manners. Mr. Elmhurst was tempted to punch him a time or two.”
He looked quickly at Samantha, but she didn’t seem to recognize the name. Warwick was undoubtedly the one who had arranged her marriage.
Trent reached across and patted Mrs. Elmhurst’s hand. “Between the two of us, we’ll make sure Anthony becomes a man like his father and not like Mr. Warwick.”
“I do believe you are heaven-sent, Mr. Gibson.”
Trent laughed as warmth blossomed in his cheeks.
“You may be right,” Samantha said quietly.
He shook his head. “I think we’d best be going. If the two of you keep this up, I might just grow right out of my britches and forget my place.”
As they stood, Anthony hurried into the room and handed his little sister off to his mother so he could escort them to the door. “I am sorry, to both of you. I didn’t mean to cause awkwardness. We really do appreciate you visiting, Mr. Gibson, and I hope I haven’t ruined that.”
“It will take more than that to scare me off, Anthony.”
“Apologies, again, Miss Allister.”
“I forgive you, Anthony.”
Pink grew in the boy’s cheeks, and he smiled.
“Don’t be getting any ideas. She might forgive you, but I’ll still be expecting you in the morning.”
He looked Trent in the eye. “I’ll be there and ready to work.”
“Good lad.” Trent gave him a nod and watched pride make him stand a bit straighter.
As they rode for home, he continued to hear Samantha’s voice and see her eyes, filled with admiration when she’d agreed with Mrs. Elmhurst’s remark. He didn’t deserve that, but his heart drew it in like a thirsty sponge, all the same. There was something incredibly special about her.