“Janet, did I miss a phone call from Mr. Carter?”

Janet shakes her head. “Nothing today, sorry.”

“Thanks.” I head back into my office and sit behind my desk, frowning.

I was supposed to meet with Carter and the union guys today, but I haven’t heard anything from him. It’s been a few days since the picnic, and I know Samuel had a shift down in the mine last night. I know it’s irrational, but I’m afraid something happened to him down there, although I would have heard about it right away.

I call his cell, but I don’t get any answer. I spend a few hours fretting, feeling powerless and angry, before my phone finally starts ringing.

It’s not Samuel. “Amelia? This is Roy.”

“Oh, hi, Roy,” I say. “I missed you guys today.”

He sounds a little distant, like something’s wrong. “We’re really, really sorry about that,” he says. “Truth is, Samuel’s not feeling good.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask him.

“Oh, you know. Just a little sick, is all.”

I pause a second. “Roy,” I say. “Tell me what’s really happening.”

He sighs. “I’m not convincing you?”

“Not even a little bit.”

He laughs softly. “Hell, I guess I always was a bad liar. Look, truth is, Samuel got jumped last night and he’s not up for a meeting. Can we reschedule?”

My mind starts reeling. “Where is he?” I ask him.

“Uh, er, at home,” he says, surprised.

“Where’s that?”

“83 Orchard, just a little house, red shutters. Why?”

“Thanks, Roy.”

I hang up the phone. I don’t know why I’m reacting like this, but I can’t help myself. I grab my things and leave the office.

“Hold my calls,” I tell Janet on the way out.

I get into my car, type Samuel’s address into my phone, and start driving. It’s close by, takes me less than ten minutes to get there. His truck’s parked in the driveway and there’s another sedan out front. I park behind his truck and get out, walking fast to his front door.

His house is a tiny little thing, but it’s cute and well maintained. I don’t know what I’m doing here, since this is entirely inappropriate, but I can’t help myself. My mind just keeps reeling, obsessed with what Roy said on the phone.

I knock a few times, and finally someone answers, a woman in her mid-thirties. She blinks when she sees me. “Amelia?”

It takes me a second to recognize her. I met her briefly at the picnic. Vernon’s wife. “Hi, Sarah,” I say. “I heard about Samuel.”

She nods, looking confused. “Uh, are you here to see him? Does he know you’re stopping by?”

I shake my head. “Roy called me. I wanted… I heard about him.”

I suddenly feel stupid. This is so obvious, so insanely transparent. I don’t know why I’m making it so fucking clear how I feel about this man, but I can’t help myself.

“Come inside,” Sarah says gently.

I follow her into a simple living room. Big screen TV against one wall, decent couch against another wall, plain coffee table. Nothing in the way of decorations, which doesn’t surprise me, although there are these interesting antique-looking clocks scattered all over the place.

“Sit,” Sarah says, gesturing at the couch. I sit down and she pulls a chair up from the far corner, sitting across from me. “What did Roy tell you?”

“Just that he got… jumped,” I say.

She nods a little. “He won’t say by who, but he’s beat up pretty good.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Oh, god, yes,” she says, laughing. “It’ll take more than that to stop Samuel. He’s got a broken rib, some bad bruises, but otherwise he’s okay.”

I let out a breath and I feel some of the tension that I’ve been holding slowly fade. “I don’t understand how this happened,” I say. “He got into a fight?”

She frowns a little bit and chews her lip, like she’s trying to decide if she wants to tell me something. After a second, she takes a breath and sets herself. “Look, this isn’t unusual, okay?”

“What does that mean? He got beat up. Sounds pretty crazy to me.”

“He’s the union head,” she says slowly. “And we’re in a contract negotiation.”

I stare at her for a second. “You think… I did this?”

“Oh, no,” she says, shaking her head. “No, not at all.”

“But someone at Evans,” I say softly.

She nods. “Someone.”

Our eyes meet and it hits me all at once. I know exactly who did this, and I know why Samuel’s not going to say his name out loud. I’m so angry I can barely breathe. Sarah gets up and comes around the coffee table to sit down next to me.

“He’ll be okay,” she says. “Trust me. Samuel’s been through worse.”

“I would never—” I start, but she cuts me off.

“I know.” She smiles at me kindly. “I can tell.”

I blush a little bit. “I mean, I’m just saying, he’s a good colleague, and—“

She cuts me off, again, laughing. “Yeah, of course. Great to work with.” She winks at me and I feel my anger melt away under a wave of embarrassment. “Anyway, I’ll go see if he’s willing to talk. That okay?”

“Sure,” I say, wanting this conversation to be over.

She stands up. “He’s on some pain meds right now, so he might be out of it.”

“That’s okay,” I say.

She nods and disappears up the stairs. I sit on the couch, stewing as my anger slowly returns, looking at all the old clocks.

Ingram did this. I know he did. This is his fucking negotiation tactic, trying to break Samuel, scare him off. I’ve heard about stuff like this, but I didn’t think people still did it anymore. It’s absolutely insane and terrifying, and I’m so fucking angry I can barely think anymore. The thought of someone hurting Samuel, big, kind, handsome Samuel, it makes my blood boil. He deserves so much better, but life keeps handing him shit.

“Come on up,” Sarah says, looking at me from the stairs. I didn’t even hear her come down.

I stand, taking a breath. She smiles at me kindly and leads the way up the steps, down a short little hall and into the back bedroom.

It’s a small space, mostly just enough room for a dresser, a bed, and a little nightstand. There are books stacked on the nightstand, and more clocks stacked all along the walls. Small metal parts are scattered all over the dresser and I’m guessing Samuel works on those clocks in here sometimes, because there’s a toolbox on the floor next to his bed.

But my gaze is drawn toward him. Samuel’s sitting up in bed, shirt off, bandage around his chest and his side. He smirks at me as we walk into the room, but I can tell his gaze is a little glassy, probably from the pain meds he took.

Purple blooms across his skin. His right eye is black, and when he shifts, he winces with his whole body. I put my hands to my mouth, shocked at the damage.

“I’ll leave you two,” Sarah says softly, and backs out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Samuel grins at me, cocks his head. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Jesus, Samuel,” I whisper. “What happened?”

He shrugs, wincing again, and glances away. “Occupational hazard,” he says.

“This happened in the mine?”

“No.” His gaze meets mine again. “This is because of you.”

That sends a shockwave running down my spine. “I had nothing to do with this,” I say, stepping toward him.

“I know that,” he says, sighing. “But there are people that don’t want me anywhere near you.” He gives me a serious look and I know exactly who he’s talking about.

Anger spills through me. “He wouldn’t,” I say.

“He would. Big business has a long history of beating and breaking unions any way they can, including this.” He gestures at his bandages.

I sit at the end of his bed, feeling shocked, outraged, furious. I knew Ingram was a pretty bad guy, but this is too far. This is criminal, and wrong on so many levels.

But Samuel doesn’t seem too upset about it. In fact, he’s still grinning, and despite his bruises, he’s still as handsome as ever. He’s practically glowing, actually, and I find myself intensely attracted to him despite everything.

“We’ll stop him,” I say suddenly. “We can go to the police. I’ll back you up.”

He laughs ruefully. “No, we can’t. Who do you think actually did the kicking?”

I gape at him. “The… police attacked you?”

“Three dirty cops did,” he says. “This is how this town works, Amelia. It’s corrupt to the heart of it. We can try to make it better, but we’re fighting a losing battle.”

“No,” I whisper. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.” He looks at me, suddenly angry. “Men like Ingram always win. Don’t you understand that yet?”

“He doesn’t have to win here. You have me on your side.”

He softens a little bit at that. “I know, but it might not be enough.”

I grip his comforter and stare at him. “I won’t let this go.”

“Good. Neither will I.”

I chew on my lip for a second. “Where do we go from here?”

“We play ball,” he says. “We negotiate, make a contract, keep moving forward.”

“And let him win?”

“I didn’t say that.” He sighs. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

I stand up. “I’ll go. I probably shouldn’t have come.”

He looks at me. “I’m glad you did.”

I stare back. “Yeah. I’m glad I did too.”

For a second, I want to go around the bed and kiss him. But instead, I turn and walk away, leaving his room and shutting his door behind me.

Later, in the car, after I’ve calmed down a little bit, I remember what he said. He got attacked because of me. I don’t know exactly what he meant by that, but I can guess.

Ingram knows that I like Samuel. He knows we have a good relationship, and he wants to break us apart, because we might be able to beat him if we work together. Of course, he has no clue about the baby inside of me. He has no clue how deep and intense my bond with Samuel is becoming.

And I don’t want him to know. I’m terrified of what he’ll do if he finds out. Ingram clearly isn’t against doing some horribly unethical things to get his way, and I’m not going to risk my baby.

I grip my steering wheel in sudden surprise. I didn’t know I felt that way about this baby. Honestly, I’ve been pushing it out of my mind, trying not to think about it at all. But I suddenly realize that I’m going to keep it, no matter what. Part of me was considering adoption, and abortion was never an option, but I know I can’t go through with that. I’m going to raise this baby, whether Samuel wants to be involved or not.

I need to tell him. I know I have to tell him, sooner rather than later. I just don’t know how to do it, and this is the absolute worst moment. I’m so dug in deep here, and I don’t know how I’m going to get back out again.