They’d almost made it to her cabin when the sheriff pulled his cruiser beside them.

He rolled down his window. “You didn’t stop by to fill out the paperwork to press charges.”

Samantha bit her lip. “Sorry.” She had glanced at the sheriff’s office when they walked through town. She’d taken care of the Dave problem when she called the Shepherd Agency. To do anything more would be like poking a bear with a sharp stick.

“I can’t hold him without charges.” Sheriff Cooper exited the cruiser and stood against the door. A few bees flew by to investigate and then left.

Samantha looked past the boxed hives to where a few reporters covered in netting held their cameras at the ready. She’d always hated how the press invaded her privacy, but her thoughts on that changed the minute Jake offered pictures to exonerate Dalton.

“I’m not sure that’s wise.”

Dalton stepped in front of her. “Press charges, or he’ll come back for round two like Todd.”

She knew they were looking out for her, but that was part of the problem. No one hesitated to tell her what they wanted her to do. No one asked here what she wanted, and right now that was peace and time alone with Dalton.

“I don’t have to press charges, and I don’t want to.” She hated that she sounded so snippy, but pressing charges kept Dave in her life. She wanted him gone. She looked at Dalton. “It’s the week of second chances. Todd got one. You got one. Dave gets one.”

“So, no charges?” Sheriff Cooper frowned.

“Not unless he’s charging me.”

“Nope.”

Samantha shrugged. “No charges, then.”

“Can’t say I’m on the same page as you. He seems like an unpredictable man.”

Understatement. “I want this to be over. Charging him keeps him in my life.”

“Your call.” He opened the door and climbed back into his cruiser. “I’ll take him to his car and escort him to the town line. Keep your eyes open.” He rolled up his window and headed back toward town.

“It’s a mistake to let him off. He broke your hand.” Dalton glanced down at the black cast.

“I broke my hand on his nose. Really, he could press charges. He’s not. Let it go.” She walked past him, taking a circuitous route around the buzzing hives toward the remaining reporters. She had to give Abby Garrett credit. Everyone was afraid of bees.

She looked behind her and waved for Dalton to follow. He looked at the hives and frowned. Even Mr. Big and Brawny feared the buzz.

She approached Jake and gave him a hug. “Thanks for coming to our rescue.”

Dalton advanced with caution. She knew his experience with the press had been less than favorable. Hers had too, but maybe it was the way she thought of the press. She’d done a lot of swatting at them and avoiding them. Like the bees, they stung when they weren’t happy.

“Dalton? Do you have time for a few questions?”

The grimace on his face screamed no, but he walked forward and stood next to Samantha. His body was tense until she leaned into him and rested her head on his chest.

“Can we get a shot of you two?” Jake asked. He didn’t have his camera pointed and focused like the others. He held it up and lifted his shoulders in question.

She turned to Dalton. “You okay with that?”

“Sure.” He wrapped his arm around her. She settled her cast against his stomach. “Anyone have a Sharpie that would show up on black?”

A young photographer in the back held up a pack of metallic, felt-tip pens. “These should work, they’re good for proofs.”

Dalton took out the silver Sharpie and drew a heart on Samantha’s cast. In the center he wrote, “It’s all about love.”

Ray asked how they’d met, and Dalton told him that Samantha almost burned down her cabin the first night she was here.

“Cooking?” he asked.

“No, trying not to freeze,” she replied.

“Do you love her?” Jake asked Dalton.

He looked at her and didn’t deny it. “How could I not? Look at her.” He smiled. “And have you heard her sing?”

“What about you, Indigo?” a girl off to the side called. “Are you in love with Dalton Black?” Samantha waited for her to say convicted killer as if it were his last name, but she didn’t.

Samantha looked into Dalton’s eyes. She’d never said the words to him. She wanted it to be a private moment, but to say anything less than the truth would be wrong.

“How could I not be? Look at him.” She squeezed her arms around his waist. “Have you tasted anything he cooks?” She implied that love was there, but the words were for him alone.

There was collective conversation about the diner and his blue-plate specials. Turns out they had put two and two together, but as long as he was cooking, they didn’t care.

Ray stepped forward. “What’s next for you?”

She honestly couldn’t say. “I was supposed to do a benefit concert for women and children suffering from domestic violence, but the misrepresentation of Dalton in the press has put that in jeopardy.”

“It has?” Dalton stepped away. “They canceled the concert because of me?” He ran his hand through his hair. “That’s ridiculous. Those families need support.” He paced in front of the hives. It was said that animals and insects could sense tension and fear. The hive buzzed louder. Samantha and the press moved farther away. “It’s never going to end, is it? I did something six years ago, and it changed my life. I did my time. When will it go away? Hundreds of abused women and children will suffer because I protected Bethany Waters. It hardly seems fair. And you know what?” He turned toward the small gathering. “I’d do it again.” Dalton turned and walked toward his cabin.

Samantha stood in the center of the group. She pointed toward Dalton’s retreating figure. “That right there is your story. He’s not a monster. He killed a monster. He knew exactly what that looked like growing up. He was the son of one. I knew what that looked like too. When I was nine, my mother and I went on the run. We looked over our shoulders until I was sixteen. That’s when we found out he’d died in a single-car accident. The scariest thing about that day was, he died in the town where we lived. He’d found us and had gone to a bar to celebrate.”

“Did he say Bethany Waters?” Jake asked as he jotted down the name.

“Yes. It’s public record. His entire story is public record if anyone wanted to know the truth. The problem is, the truth doesn’t always sell the story.” She handed the silver pen back to its owner and looked down at her cast. “It’s all about love.” That was a wise thing to remember.

Samantha found Dalton at his place. He was in the kitchen doing what he did best. “Hey.” He continued to season the roast he had on the counter. “Look at me.” She stepped in front of him and pressed her head to his chest. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. Look at what my presence has done to you—to others.”

She sighed. Not the sigh of surrender, but a sigh of heartwarming goodness. “Yes, look what you did to me. You cared for me. You protected me. You loved me. Despite everything that’s happened over the last couple of weeks, I’d do it all over again because I’m a better person when I’m with you.”

“It’s a good thing Dave never let you out of his sight, or you might know what a good man looks like, and I’d never have had a chance with you.”

“Don’t bring up Dave when I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy and romantic.”

He pulled a bag of baby carrots out of the refrigerator and spread them around the roast. “Is your agent really going to let him go?” Next came the new potatoes.

“Dalton, you’re shriveling my libido with talk about work.” She plucked a stray carrot from the bag. “That’s what he said. He told me he put in a call and will wait until Dave calls back.”

“You think he’ll do it?” He turned and slid the pan into the preheated oven.

“If he wants to work with me, he’ll follow through. My contract is up after the next album and the benefit concert.”

She reached around him for a glass, filled it with water, and popped two of the pain pills Doc Parker gave her. “Do you want to talk about Dave and Oliver, or do you want to take my mind off how much my hand hurts? I’ll take your mind off how unfair the world can be.”

He set the timer. “We have a couple of hours. Let’s go to bed.”

“Now, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”