Page 66 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"Of course, you don't. You always like raising the people you care about higher than needed. But sometimes I don't want to be special. I just...want to be me."

A twinge formed in my gut, mingling with the churning that now had a new heat. I understood all too well what it felt like towant to be free of the walls built around me, partially by me but also by other people. At the same time, I’d learned to live with those frustrations, to accept that my role in this life was the one I would have. What was the point of wasting time and energy wanting something you weren't going to have?

Then again, maybe she had that in common with Samuel. He had been fighting for years to get out of the hole he’d landed in, a hole created by him and others. Yet every setback, every little thing that dug that hole a little deeper, didn’t stop him from trying to get out. Maybe he was doomed to stay in that hole for the rest of his life, die in it, and even be buried in it, but it didn't seem capable of slowing him down, let alone stopping him.

Which still didn't answer my question. How did they manage to get through life feeling the obvious regret they did without going mad? Sure, sometimes those feelings managed to dig their way out of whatever hole I'd buried them in in my head, but I didn't like to linger over them. What would be the point? I loved my work, and while it might not seem like much to many people, it was still mine. Maybe it came at a personal cost, but what in life didn't have a price on it?

"Oh, what are you thinking about over there?" she asked, pulling me from my thoughts. "Sometimes it's so hard to tell what's going on in that head of yours."

I shook my head, stiffening when I heard a familiar laugh drifting from a nearby pen. Because, of course, Samuel decided going too far from where I sent him was reasonable. From the distance Elizabeth and I stood, I couldn't understand the conversation, but it was obvious Samuel managed to keep the group of guys he was working with in good spirits. It seemed most people on the ranch had quickly forgotten his origins. An idea that would have irritated me not all that long ago.

Now? Now, I knew things weren't that simple. Then again, the me that would have balked at seeing him as anything but anoutlaw would have also been horrified at what had become of the two of us since he'd first stepped foot onto the ranch. I wasn'ttotallyconvinced he wasn't still playing the long game or at least figuring out a way to get free of the ranch before he was released. And yet...I believed he wasn't a threat to us and didn't want to harm anyone here.

As to what he really wanted, I could only guess. I suspected he shared a lot with my sister. Both of them had a desire to be more than the descriptions given to them by other people. Perhaps find a way out from under all that expectation and judgment and live on their own terms. I couldn't blame them. It was a tempting idea, even though I knew the ranch was my home and would be for the rest of my life.

But I could see Samuel someday finding peace and maybe even putting down roots. Maybe he would pick up on the family trade of being a merchant or find some other way to make a living. And hopefully, an honest one so he could enjoy his quiet life to its fullest. Or hell, maybe he could go into politics. He certainly knew how to smooth-talk people.

I wondered if he’d ever thought about what he would do if he were finally given the peace and freedom he wanted so badly.

"Oh," Elizabeth grunted in surprise. "It's so easy to forget that you end up with...interesting views when you leave the house."

Frowning, I looked up and groaned when I saw Samuel had peeled his shirt off, wiped his face, and gone right back to help the men rebuild the chicken coops that had been in long need of repair. It had been easier to tear them down, use the good wood with some we'd ordered, and make new coops. Except now the man who had an unholy hold over me with his sexual...everything, was completely shirtless, covered in sweat, and that did not help keep my attention on being a proper brother.

That meant not thinking about the last time I'd seen his bare torso covered in sweat...as I pinned him to the bed, not caring about the hardwood of the floor digging into my knees and?—

"I hope you're not being crass," I said, roughly clearing my throat and glad I could lean against a fence post to conceal my reaction to my treacherous thoughts.

"You work with nothing but men. You know damn well what crass sounds like," she said with a snort. "And this may shock you, Ambrose, but yes, even we ladies have our moments."

"Moments?"

"Of appreciation?."

"Of...Samuel?"

"I don't know why you have to sound surprised," she said with a roll of her eyes. "My eyes still function. My mind still works. I can see a good-looking man and appreciate him, albeit from a distance, knowing that it's only a look. And stop looking at me like that. I can feel things."

"I know women can feel things like that," I said with a huff. "Don't expect all the ladies working at...well, at places of ill repute, are all there just for the money."

"Place of ill…Ambrose, are you, by chance, referring to a brothel?"

"I might be."

"Tsk tsk, have you been to one?"

My eyes widened in horror. “No!"

She watched me, the corner of her lips twitching before she shrugged. “No, I suppose you wouldn't, would you?"

"I..." That didn't leave me much to work with, and all I could do was stare at her, trying to find the words and coming up short.

"I'm...hopin' that's a good comment on my morals," I muttered uneasily at her knowing look.

She snorted, shaking her head and looking away with a smirk. "Everyone knows your morals are strong."

"That didn't really...sure."

"Ambrose, it was not a commentat allabout your morals."

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