Free Scattered Petals by Amanda Cabot Page B

had almost reached the paddock when a man emerged from the barn. He strode quickly in her direction, then turned abruptly when he spotted Priscilla. Regret stabbed her as she realized that Zach Webster had recognized her uneasiness around him and was going out of his way—literally— to ensure that he didn’t bother her. Since the day he’d interrupted her breakfast, Priscilla had seen him only from a distance. According to Martina, Zach was spending far less time than usual in the house. That wasn’t a coincidence, Priscilla knew.
    She raised her voice slightly. “There’s no need to leave, Mr. Webster. You belong here more than I do.”
    He turned again and approached her. Instead of his normal brisk gait, he walked slowly, his hands at his sides, fingers spread wide so there was not the slightest hint of aggression. Priscilla’s mouth turned up when she realized this was probably the stance he used when he tried to gain the confidence of a wild animal. Had she seemed wild those first days? Perhaps. She had certainly been frightened.
    “You’re wrong about me belonging here, Miss Morton,” he said when they were a yard apart. “You’re family. I’m only a hired hand.”
    “Mr. Webster, what you are is too modest. Anyone can see that Clay regards you as a brother.” Moonlight shone on his face, outlining the firm features. To Priscilla’s surprise, it also revealed discomfort. She thought quickly, trying to understand which of her words might have made him uncomfortable, but she could find none.
    “Be that as it may, I’ll be leaving soon.”
    His words surprised her, as did the fact that his hands were now clenched. Though he’d volunteered the statement, it obviously caused distress. “May I ask why?” Surely it was not because she was here. “According to both Sarah and Clay, you’ve been a vital part of the Bar C since the day you arrived. What you do must be even more important now that you and Clay have taken over the neighboring ranch.”
    Zach shrugged. “It’s time.” Though his words were matter of fact, he was close enough that she could see the sadness in his eyes. Zach Webster might deny it, but he did not want to leave the Bar C. Priscilla was as certain of that as she was of her own name.
    “I’m not meant to stay anywhere for a long time,” he said quietly.
    Her heart ached at the pain she heard in his voice, and she sought a way to comfort him. “I’m sorry,” Priscilla said, knowing the words were inadequate but unable to find others. “I can’t claim to understand how you feel. I spent my whole life in the same house. It was comfortable there, but from the time I was a child, I longed for adventure. I wanted to do things besides paint watercolors and embroider hankies, and I wanted to visit places beyond Massachusetts. That’s one of the reasons I was anxious to attend Clay’s wedding. I thought it would be an adventure, coming to Texas, seeing more of the country.” Priscilla looked directly at Zach as she said, “Now I’d give anything not to have left Boston.”
    He nodded slowly, his eyes filled with compassion and understanding. “One thing I’ve learned is that we cannot change the past. We have to make our peace with it and learn to live with our mistakes.” He closed his eyes briefly, and Priscilla sensed that he was praying for forgiveness for his mistakes, whatever they might have been. When he opened his eyes again, he said, “I do not believe your journey was a mistake. Clay needed to have Patience’s family here.”
    “Thank you for saying that, Mr. Webster. I wish I could believe I wasn’t wrong in insisting we come, but . . .”
    “Believe it.” He interrupted Priscilla with a command that surprised her by its intensity. “Believe it. One more thing, if it’s not too much of an imposition.” A wry smile twisted his lips. “Would you call me Zach? No one’s ever called me Mr. Webster. When you do, I keep wondering who you’re