Hey! No one has really been reading, but I am still going to keep uploading! I know I changed the script a little bit, and again, I don't own the characters accept the ones I make up… Please review.

Chapter Two

He pushed the boat into the dark water, getting his trousers wet up to his knees. I couldn't help thinking of how strong he had to be to pull the heavy thing, I didn't even know if I could full it a few feet. I waited on the shore for him, keeping watch. I had a bad feeling – like someone was watching me. Turning myself in every direction, my heart raced, like it was going to beat right out of my chest. But nothing appeared.

"Hold on." Sam whispered to me as he scooped me up carefully in his arms. He carried me to the little boat that was built with the craftsmanship of his own two hands, wading into the water again and lifting me up into the seat. After assuring that I was secure, he climbed in after me, rocking the frame a little. My eyes were beginning to sting with exhaustion. I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept over an hour, because I'd been awake the past few nights, my heart aching dully. And I'd woken up from a restless sleep last night, hearing the mobbers, having fallen asleep in my clothes.

"It's a long row across the lake." He broke my reveries, pulling an old blue blanket out form under a few large onions that rolled onto the bed of the boat, covering my legs up with it. I cautiously moved my hands to my side again. I hadn't really seen the wound, but I could tell that the bullet had gone clean through.

"Tell me about where you live, then." I tried to sit proper and straight, but ended up laying back against the onions. The water sloshed around us, black in the dark, and rocked the boat like a cradle as he took the oars after pushing off.

Sam shook his head. "Not much, that's what it looks like."

"Sam…"

"It's no kingdom by the sea." He smiled and I couldn't help watching his chest muscles flex as he rowed again with his smoothly-framed oars. "My aunt and uncle built it years before I was born, then my parents moved in and had me and my sister and brother in the house. Now I own it, along with the onion patch."

"It has a lot of history, I see." I smiled, curling my fingers on the hem of the blanket. It was beginning to warm up, but summer was turning to autumn. Soon the cedar and elm trees around the lake would be turning colors and falling, it would be getting colder, and the town would smell of pumpkin pie and spices. It was always the perfect time to make my spiced peaches, in the season before winter.

"Yeah, this lake goes on for miles. Have you ever been swimming in it?"

"Sam!" I exclaimed, raising my eyebrows. The look on his face was priceless.

"It's nice on a hot day!"

The truth was, I'd never been swimming. At least not in Green Lake. When I was younger, I used to swim with my brother Johnny, in an old pond that was on our grandparents' property. I hadn't swam since he'd drown when he was ten, and I was twelve. It wasn't that I didn't like the water, I was just always afraid of it. It was tolerable, especially when Sam knew how to swim. There was a certain fish I knew that jumped into the water all the time on a hot day, and that was Trout Walker. The only thing giving him a luster was the golden cap on his tooth, and he was so unflattering.

"I've never swam in the lake." I smiled to myself, feeling the morning sun shining on my face. For autumn, the sun was abnormally warm, and I even wondered if I'd get a sunburn.

"You just enjoy the ride, Miss Katherine. We'll be there in no time." He smiled, taking his hat off again, stopping his fluent rowing. "It ain't too pretty, but put this on, it'll protect your pretty face."

"Thank you." I blushed, taking his hat and positioned it on my head. I pulled the pins from my shiny blonde hair and let the messy curls free around my face. Sam didn't seem to be disturbed by the sun's rays, and he began rowing again, pushing the long sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. "I could help row, maybe."

He just shook his head and smiled.

Sam rowed for a long time, and I continued to offer help. He always said it was alright, though I felt useless – he occasionally looked up at me, a trick I learned that he does to trick me into looking at him. Trout had done it too, but it always ended in a wink, or a nod towards me. Sam only leaned back and smiled, seeming to be studying me. Like I was a crowned jewel, and he was so lost in my beauty that he could barely stop his russet lips from tugging into a small simper.

"What are you looking at?" he asked. Dear, I'd been staring at him too.

"Nothing." I smoothed down my red skirt over my knees. Actually, it was more of a red, brown, and grass-stained skirt now, especially around the hem. "Just… looking. At you, Sam." I tilted my head ,realizing how dreamy my voice sounded.

He smiled, and our eyes met for a moment. We held our gaze for a second, then his eyes rolled up. "That hat suits you."

I reached up to play with one of the strings hanging down, wrapping one of my long fingers around it like a piece of twine. I'd rapped a bow around my index finger plenty of times, in fact, so I would remember things. So many people believed I had everything all together, and I was some perfect blonde angel, but the truth was, half the time I was forgetful, and disorganized. But the sunbaked leather of his hat was rough and comforting against my finger. "I suppose you made this too."

"Nah…" he looked past my shoulder and the onions I was sitting against. There was no town in sight, it was too far away – miles, now. I remembered when I had first moved here, someone had told me that the river went on for about thirteen miles across, and about two the opposite way. Probably not one person knew where we were.

We both lurched forward as the bow of the boat slid onto the land with a gravely-sand sound. I could feel the grains under the boat as it wedged onto land. He set his oars down lengthwise, resting across the top of the boat, and hopped over the side and into the water again to pull it up all the way. After it was docked, he helped me out, holding both of my hands so I could climb up onto the seat of the Mary Lou, the name of the homemade rowboat, and he took my waist and slung me down gently.

"Bleeding's stopped." He observed as he peeled the bandage away from my side, taking a look at the wound I had been burdened with. I could see it was mostly dry blood, thankfully, but the pruned skin was gruesome, and a white circle was surrounding the redness of the divot in my skin, clean through to the other side of me.

"Sam, it hurts." My eyes welled with tears, and I pressed my hands over his that were on my wound. I started to mention that we didn't have proper medical supplies, but caught myself.

"Miss Katherine, don't cry." He stroked back my tangled blonde curls from under his wide-brimmed hat. "I can fix that."

His hand still on my waist, he leaned in and gently pressed his warm lips in between my eyes. I closed my eyes and breathed in his sweet smell.

"Sam, can you fix anything?" I teased, my spirits lifting.

"Of course I can!" he smiled, slipping his arm around my waist to help me walk. "My little cabin isn't far from here, but I'll have to come back for my rower."

Sam's cabin was small and quaint, miles from his onion patch, or so he told me. It was hidden on the edge of the lake, concealed in a little patch of trees. Sam helped me there, careful on my fragile body. He never took his hat back, just insisted I wear it.

The door was unlocked, but Sam had to give it a little muscle to push it open. He took my hands again and led me through the door. The rustic house was quite beautiful, so pretty that it was hard to believe he lived alone there, it was so tidy. There was a stone oven and a stove, along with a sink with a window overlooking the swaying yellow grasses of the landscape. It was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside – there was another room with a stone-set fireplace and two armchairs, and a set of wooden stairs led to what looked like a loft.

I smiled, turning toward him. "It's beautiful/"

"Thanks." He smiled back and nodded his head once. He looked uncomfortable, fidgeting with the tattered strap of his suspenders.

I lay my hand across his arm gently. "What's wrong?"

"We're not married." He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking away from my eyes. "My mother and father taught me – I shouldn't invite a woman to stay."

I stepped toward him and touched his arm, stroking my nails on the tattered material of his shirt. It was torn and dirty, covered in damp dirt smudges. My clothes weren't in prime condition either. The blue blouse which was my favorite was ripped, or course, and smudged in dirt from tripping in the woods. I was sure that I, myself, looked pale and haggard. "Sam, you're worried that we're not married?"

He smiled his usual wide grin that I liked to see. "Yeah."

"We'll have to fix that." I stepped closer to him, resting my cheek against his chest. "Because I'm in love with you, Sam Garter."

His thumb stroked my cheek. "Who would be daft enough to marry us?"

"Somebody." I said softly, and it came out in a dreamy sigh as I melted for him again. I'd never felt this way about anybody before. Plenty of people had believed that Trout would win me over. He was the richest man, and he could have any of the other girls. But he wanted me, something he worked for like a pathetic prize. I was probably the first thing he'd ever truly had to work for. He smelled of fish, and often whiskey, his bucked smiling and winking always made me feel – quite uncomfortable. He made my skin crawl, unlike Sam, who was quietly witty, good with his hands as well as his words. When I stayed late to teacher older men how to read, he'd always come just to watch me, like he was inspecting me as his woman. Sam was willing to learn. He'd particularly liked poetry…

His favorite, I'd remembered him telling me, was Annabel Lee, but Edgar Allan Poe. I remembered once after class – it had been raining, he was leaning against my desk waiting for me to return, reading form my anthology of poetry that I happened to have left open on my desk. Well, he was struggling to read. I had had no idea how much he paid attention while he was fixing things while I taught. When he'd started reciting things I often read to the children, I realized the full extent of what he had paid attention to.

Sam was brushing the falcon feather from his hat across the page as he read under his breath. I had watched him struggle on some words silently for a long time. I didn't even know if he knew I was there the entire time. I'd finally cleared my throat and made myself known.

"Oh, Miss Katherine!" he jumped. I really don't think he knew of my presence. He was waiting for his peaches. "I was just reading some of this – poetry. Do you like Poe as much as I do?" he touched the feather to the tip of my nose, then tucked it back onto the brim of his hat. His smile had no gold-capped tooth.

"I heard you today." I pointed to the window, which he'd been fixing today. I thought that he was tinkering with it a little longer so he could hear me reading to one of my students longer. "You must like him, if you know it by heart."

His voice warmed up the room. "Yeah, he had some great fascination with death… usually of young pretty girls." He looked directly at me when he said it. "Young love, strong love, and tragedy."

"Yes," I walked closer to him, I just needed to be that much closer.

He shivered a little, getting that eager twinkle in his eyes. "I've always dreamed of what it would be like to live in a kingdom by the sea.

"And have your Annabel Lee?"

"I haven't found her yet." He looked right at me again, his starry dark eyes I needed to melt in. "But when I do, even the angels will be jealous." He tipped his hat. "And she'll have on other thought than to be loved, and to be loved by me."

"Sam…" I said, in awe of the craft and flow of his words. Without even thinking, I handed him the peaches he'd earned, though I felt like pulling them back just to talk to him for a while longer. It was hard not knowing when I'd see him next. I could've talked to him for hours without growing tired of his company. He he'd tipped his hat again and said. "Goodbye, Miss Katherine."

"Wait!"

He turned. "The door doesn't hang straight."

"It's against the law." He interrupted my train of thought of the memory. "They could haul us away to prison. They could hang the both of us."

"I don't care about the law. I'll travel far and wide to find someone to marry us."

"You know, I was always partial to blonde hair." He stroked his thumb down the length of my hair that had come loose from behind my ear. his hat had slid down behind me, on my neck.

"Well, that's lucky for you Sam, because I love brown eyes." I leaned down at the exact moment he leaned up, and our lips connected for the second time. His warm hand slipped behind my back, and one of mine wrapped around his neck, holding the back of it with my fingers as if he might slip right between them.

After he pulled away, he planted another kiss between my eyes and then on my forehead. He was worth it. All of it. I'd give anything for him. He wasn't like any other man I'd encountered, and I knew he'd never dream or hurting me. Each time he held me, it was as if he was being careful. He could fix just about anything. He didn't pay attention to petty comments.

He rested his chin against my shoulder and I could feel every movement of his jaw as he spoke. "Let me take care of you."

It took me a moment to realize that he meant my injuries, when his hand slid down my waist. "Oh… Sam, I…" I closed my eyes and rested my cheek against the ragged material of his shirt again.

"Come 'ere." He led me over to the sink by my hand. "May I?" he held out his hands. I nodded and he lifted me up onto the counter. "I'll have you fixed up in no time, huh?" he pumped the water pump at the sink basin. "Did I ever tell you about the time I got my knee stuck in the rafter of this house?"

"No." I winced as he shed the dry bandages that had become stuck to the pruned hole, but I couldn't help but smile at him.

"Well, it was very trying. I was stuck for hours!" he threw his hands up. It was obvious that he was trying to distract me form the gore that I might see. "I finally had to wiggle myself out. Believe it or not, I used to be a string bean. Couldn't walk straight for three days – and I musta looked like a drunk, walking all crooked like that."

I laughed. "You do have a lot of stories, Sam."

"Well, that's what makes a person interesting, Miss Katherine." He stroked his thumb over my cheek once and washed the dry blood off of my skin. "This will heal within a few days." He observed as he wrung out the washrag in the basin of the sink and wet it again. his fair muscles flexed as he pumped the water again.

"Don't tell me one of your onion remedies is going to heal me faster, is it?" I teased. He did have a lot of things made from onions, other than the vegetables in their rawest form. Stomachache medicine, cough syrup, a tonic to supposedly cure baldness, and even a substance to keep away the dreadful yellow-spotted lizards.

"Of course not, wouldn't that be something though?" his fingers slowly brushed the top button of my blouse. I caught his hand and began to undo the buttons from top to bottom. Of course, I was wearing the white underdress and underclothes, but never had I been so exposed to a man. Gentle, quiet Sam was silent, as he was much of the time.

He fell against the cabinets, slightly rattling them as my hand curled up on his chest, and his hands tangled in my hair. His hat slipped farther down my neck, and I pulled away slowly, realizing that half of the buttons on my blouse were undone.

"Miss Katherine –" he started, a soft smile on his lips that were still extremely close to mine.

"You don't need to call me 'Miss' anymore." I whispered, inching in closer and pressing my lips to his one more time. "Only my students call me that." my heart sank a little, remembering my students. Would I ever see them again? How would they go to school? Which made me wonder how I would ever return to town. Sam couldn't go back for a moment without a mob joining up, surely to feather and tar him at the least. I alone would cause quite a riot among the men. But I needed things. I couldn't wear Sam's clothes, and the only other thing I had was ruined.

"Sam, I'm going to have to go back to town to get my things." I said quietly as the sun rose higher through the kitchen window, through the tattered curtains.

The solemn man nodded. "By yourself?"

I nodded. Our escape had been essential, but now I needed to return to Green Lake, as much as I didn't want to. But my small house was at the edge of town, tiny, I being the only one living in it. I'd taken it after being offered the teaching position that had been long since empty. The woman living next door was an old woman that was mean to everyone she came across, especially Sam. I hoped she wouldn't throw my things out on the streets for the buzzards to pick.

"But you can't now. You're hurt." None of the usual humor was in his voice. "I can't let you."

"I'll be alright in a few days." He was just so – nice, so pure. Part of the reason I wanted to marry him. None of it was of spite. There were plenty of others that wanted me just in spite of another who did. Many had tried to win me over, some were more obvious, others it took me a while to figure out if they were just being kind. But there was one I wanted, and I discovered too late. Now we were in this mess. If it wasn't against the law, I would go to the judge and sign the papers for our marriage. But today, that would get us a bullet between the eyes, or something not even as nice as such. But no matter what, I knew someday I would marry Sam Garter, it didn't matter what the rest of the world thought. I loved him, and we would live together in our kingdom by the sea.

Hello! Please review! The next couple chapters will be way better, I promise! Please hang in there, if there is anyone at all!