Page 39 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"Because one of the people who killed your family was a brother to the sheriff."

Despite what he accused me of, I wasn'tsoignorant that I didn't realize the world wasn't as honorable and law-abiding as I tried to be. I knew all too well that people out there called themselves honorable and wore a badge they didn't deserve. The very thought of losing my family to that sort of situation was...vile. The thought turned my stomach to think of my father, sister, nieces and nephews, and, to a lesser extent, my brother all murdered. Not just murdered but to have their killers protected simply because someone didn't want to follow the oath they swore to uphold?

"I don't know," I said with a scowl.

"Would you take justice into your own hands?"

"Kill them?"

"The ones responsible."

"I-I would want to," I said honestly, knowing it was just, but not knowing if it was right. "But...I don't know if I could. Why? Why are you asking me?"

The wall in his eyes concealing whatever he’d been thinking crumbled, replaced with a coldness I had never considered could exist inside him. More unnerving was the realization that it seemed to suit him just fine, as if that was not the only part of him under the mask. It was an expression that said he had no pity, remorse, or regrets about what was on his mind.

"Because I did," he said in a low, chilly tone. "They incurred a debt, and as the son of a merchant, I know all too well how important it is to cash in on debts."

Despite the heat and the lukewarm water, I felt a chill run down my back as he began to scoot backward. I felt a ring of alarm until I realized he was moving away from me and going upriver. Even then, I wondered if he was trying to put distance between us to escape before again realizing that was stupid. He would have no clothes, horse, or supplies and zero chance of surviving out there as opposed to a little one if he were prepared.

"No...sanctimony?" he asked and shrugged. “Well, I guess there are some things even you have a hard time arguing with."

There wasn't anything I could say in retort, so I swallowed my frustration and watched him as he drifted away. I no longer thought he was trying to get away from me, not in the complete sense, but something told me he wanted space between us. I knew how much I wanted to be away whenever I found myself raw or exposed in front of others.

If I was right, the parents he'd mentioned who’d died were probably the people he had been thinking about in the hypothetical he’d presented me with. They had died...or been murdered, but it was clear the pain and rage were still fresh. Even getting the justice he’d craved seemed not to have been enough to heal the wound that was still raw inside him. It was my first real glimpse into who he was as a person, and all I could do was wonder about what he’d said.

Life was...messy, even I knew that much. I had worked with and talked to enough men on the ranch to know that theirs...well, many of them had not always been straight and narrow before coming to work for my family. I'd heard stories of wives and children dying, driving men to drown in a bottle and only barely come out of the other side with their lives intact. Of people dragged into debt and forced to do things that were degrading and illegal in order to get free. Sometimes, life was out of your control, and that sometimes made you out of control.

Was it so hard to go from there and leap to the understanding that the same mercurial aspect of life had managed to get its claws into Samuel? We were different people, but...who had he been before life had twisted around and dug its claws into him, tearing his world apart and leaving him with one difficult choice after another?

It was more complicated than I was comfortable dealing with. As I had said to Samuel earlier, I preferred to keep thingsas simple as possible, and yes, maybe that was because it was easier to deal with. I should have known that the cherished simplicity of my life wouldn't stick around from the moment I laid eyes on him. He was still the same irritating person who openly admitted to breaking the law several times and hadn't said he wouldn't do it again. Yet he was also more than just someone who looked at the law as something to step all over.

He was my prisoner and my charge, but he was also a man who had fought for his own justice and was capable of taking care of himself. He was infuriating, but he was intriguing. He was despicable and yet alluring. In another time, in another world, maybe he and I could have grown to know each other on better, more even terms, but it seemed that was not what had been in store for us. So now I had to figure out what that meant.

I stiffened when I saw something shift in the way he stopped and twisted toward the shoreline. Waiting, I watched as he moved toward the edge, moving carefully. I was so wrapped up in trying to figure out what could be wrong I barely noticed the way he hunched over, pushing his ass out and practically putting it on display. Of course, barely noticed wasn't the same as not noticing, and despite sensing something was wrong, I still felt a flash of heat in my gut as I wondered what that same view would look like from behind and up close.

"What is it?" I asked in a rough voice, shoving my lust aside.

"I do believe we might have stumbled across what we need during this...excursion," he said, glancing over at me. And I might have imagined it, but I swore I saw something in his eyes as though he might have known my thoughts.

Frowning, I pushed to my feet and approached him. He gestured for me to move toward the water, and I did it without thinking, stepping back into the river and walking toward him. When I reached him, I leaned over to see what he was looking at, doing my best not to focus on the sight of him bent over.Unlike everything else in the area, the ground around the river was soft from the water. The river was only flowing because of the snow melting from the mountains, and in another month or so, it would be nearly dried up or gone completely until the next winter and spring.

And there, in the wet mud, was what Samuel was staring at.

"I'm no expert, but those appear to be rather large paw prints," Samuel said wryly.

"Yeah," I grunted, reaching down and running my fingers over them, tracing their path along the riverbank. "Seems they stopped to drink. Hard to tell how long ago it was, but...there's not going to be too many places with water left, so they're bound to come back here."

"And back to the..." he trailed off with a frown, standing up. "Those...aren't paw prints."

I followed his gaze, and a chill ran down my spine when I saw what he was referring to. “No?—"

"What?" he asked, bewildered, even more so when I stood up abruptly, hopping over the prints on the riverbank to examine what he’d noticed. The dirt wasn't nearly as wet, but it was still relatively soft. More importantly, it was under an overhang, which protected it from the wind. It was sets of prints, alright, but they were distinctly boot prints and from the looks of them, at least three different sizes. And there, in the dirt, was something that I pushed at until it came free. I held it up with a groan.

"What?" he repeated.

I needed to remember exactly where we’d found the prints and the object in my hand, which I closed my fingers around, feeling its sharp edges dig into my palm. "We need to get back, now. These aren't just wolves."

"What?"

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