Page 47 of If the Boot Fits

The hand rubbing circles on her back slowed. “You ain’t hurt anywhere, are you?”

She shook her head as she sniffed and finally found the strength to stand on her own. Straightening, she rubbed the wetness from her cheeks with the backs of her hands.

“Here.” A white handkerchief appeared, and she accepted it with gratitude.

After wiping her eyes dry and blowing her nose several times, she crumpled the wadded linen into her fist and squeezed it tightly.

She inhaled a shaky breath, then stiffened her spine as she lifted her chin to meet her father’s concerned gaze. “Someone tried to kill me, Daddy.”

His eyes widened in shock before a storm cloud darkened his features. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

She did, though she didn’t really have any helpful details to share. She hadn’t recognized the man. Nor the horse. Nothing about either stood out in her memory besides the fact that the cowboy had been dressed almost fully in black. His horse had been brown with a black tail and mane. Other than that, all she recalled was the snake.

“I was so scared, Daddy.” Tears threatened to return, but she forced them back.

Until her stone-faced father grabbed her and nearly hugged the breath right out of her body. “I could have lost you, girl.” His voice cracked, and Samantha’s heart throbbed as the truth of his love seeped into all her cracks and crevices.

He held her away from him, his eyes scouring her as if searching for bite marks that could have been.

“I’m all right, Daddy.” The words felt good to say. So good, in fact, she said them again. “I’m all right.”

She was all right. She wouldn’t be surprised to wake up tomorrow morning and find her hair had turned gray overnight from the fright she’d endured, but thanks to God’s provision, that’s all it had been—a fright. She’d suffered no physical harm.

“Who would do such a thing?” Her father scowled as he released his hold on her and balled his hands into fists. “I might credit a prank of some kind if there’d been a garter or bull snake in the sack, but a rattler? That’s too malicious to be a prank. And too targeted to be random. But why would any man want to hurt you? You’re not a threat to anyone.”

Memories of angry accusations and a vow for retribution set Samantha’s legs to trembling anew.

“Leroy Thompson might disagree.”

A muscle ticked in her father’s jaw. “You think Leroy did this?”

Samantha shrugged. “I ran into him in town earlier today. He was drunk and none too pleased about my interference in his affairs. Blamed me for losing his job. Threatened to make me pay.” Her stomach knotted at the memory until a better recollection surfaced and smoothed out the wrinkles. “Asher Ellis happened across us and took up for me. Leroy backed down after that and slunk away. The man was so drunk it took him three tries to mount his horse.”

That particular detail brought a frown to her face.

“Maybe it wasn’t Leroy.” Samantha fiddled with the wadded handkerchief in her hand. “He looked about ready to pass out last I saw him. He’d be in no condition to make such a ride barely an hour later.”

Her father crossed his arms over his broad chest. “He coulda hired someone to do it. If he knew you were in town, he could have set someone to watch you, then strike when you were halfway between town and home, where you’d be least likely to find help.”

A new chill passed over Samantha’s skin at the calculated nature of such a plan. How cold-blooded would someone have to be to plot to take another’s life? Did Leroy truly hate her that much?

“Or what about that fella that trespassed the night of the ball?” His frown deepened. “We got no way of knowing what that scoundrel was truly after. I figured he was after money or legal papers of some sort since we found him in my study, but maybe when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he decided to go after you.”

Samantha hadn’t thought of her bootless cowboy in days. Now that she’d met Asher, her obsession with the faceless man seemed a bit naïve, but she still couldn’t imagine that the man who’d saved her brother’s life would deliberately try to take hers.

“What would he gain from killing me? If he wanted money, kidnapping and demanding a ransom would be a more logical choice. Besides, the man from the ball saved Clint’s life. He had a conscience. A code. It doesn’t make sense that he would turn so vengeful as to commit murder.”

“A lot of things in this world don’t make sense. Especially killin’. The truth is, we got no idea who that intruder was or what he’d come here to do. That means he’s a suspect. One I plan to report to the sheriff.”

Samantha wanted to argue but couldn’t think of a logical rationale to present. As her father had said before, a woman’s intuition wasn’t proof.

“I ought to pack you up and send you back to Boston,” her father grumbled. “Ain’t no rattlesnakes there.”

There was no Asher Ellis there, either. No big-hearted daddy who let his grown daughter cry all over him when she was scared. No baby brother to watch grow into manhood. No Ida Mae, Jimmy, or Jack. No Fergus with his imaginative stories or Mama Bess with her garden.

“Texas is my home, Daddy.” Her words might have been soft, but they carried weight from the certainty of her decision. “Snakes and all.”

The edge of her father’s mouth turned up at one corner. “Figured you’d say that.” He raised a brow. “Don’t reckon you’d agree to me locking you in your room until the sheriff runs down the varmint who tried to hurt you, either?”