The Courting of Widow Shaw

by Charlene Sands

  Sheriff Brimley sighed again. “Her husband’s been murdered and so far, she hasn’t come forth. I got neighbors who tell me they heard a ruckus earlier that night. Thought they heard the two fighting. If she killed her husband, I’ve got to bring her in.”

  “Married people fight,” Grady said with a shrug.

  “Like I said, I’ve got to check it out. I’ll be back in a day or two. If you hear something before that, you come get me.”

  Steven waited until Roy Brimley exited the bar, then he strode out like a man who had time on his hands. But in truth, he was anxious to get back to Rainbow House to see Glory again.

  He’d been right in taking her into hiding. She wouldn’t stand a chance otherwise. If Sheriff Brimley thought her suspect already without having seen her bruises, then surely he would have jailed her immediately once he laid eyes on her. Not that a woman didn’t have call to defend herself from an abusive husband, but the law stopped short of murder. And Roy Brimley was a hard man, trying to keep peace and justice in a town that refused both. If Brimley thought Glory guilty, he wouldn’t hesitate to arrest her.

  Steven ambled down the busy street.

  He only half hoped Glory was awake.

  Because then he’d have to question her.

  And he might not like what she had to say.

  Glory pushed herself up on the bed and opened her eyes, squinting against the dim light. She couldn’t tell where she was. She couldn’t guess the time of day. Having been shut tight from the swelling, her eyes struggled to focus. And dragging her body upright had cost her dearly.

  She didn’t know who had brought her here or why. She was beholden to the man who had taken care of her. He’d had a gentle touch, but it was time for Glory to put her pain aside. It was time she tried to figure out what had happened to her. It was time to get some answers.

  Surprise registered as she darted quick glances around the room. The furniture was stately, made of the richest walnut and mahogany, with marble-topped dressers and gilded washstands. And the bed itself was enormous. Dark emerald curtains covered windows with ornate brass rods. A lovely oak-carved screen partially hid a porcelain bathtub. She’d never stayed anywhere nearly so elegant. Certainly, she wasn’t in a hospital, which probably meant the stranger tending to her wasn’t a doctor.

  Even more mysterious was the fact that she’d heard female voices from time to time, but they’d never entered her room. At least, not while she’d been awake.

  Only the man cared for her.

  And just as she’d envisioned what the man had looked like from the tiny bit of him she’d viewed earlier, he stood at the doorway, appearing somewhat startled.

  “You’re awake.” He closed the door behind him, but didn’t approach, his gaze taking her in, assessing her. And she was instantly reminded of earlier, when he’d had his hands on her, rubbing the salve on her skin. She pushed that mortifying picture from her mind to take a better look at him.

  He was tall and broad of shoulder. He wore a hat, black in color, a shade or two darker than his hair. His eyes were brown—earth-brown her father would say, like rich soil begging to be planted. He had a strong rugged face with a jaw that right now appeared hard as granite.

  “Can you speak?” he asked.

  Glory closed her eyes. She didn’t know if she could speak out of a mouth still swollen and bruised. She had the feeling she wouldn’t want to peer into the cheval mirror on the other side of the room, for fear of how she might appear. If she looked anything like she felt, seeing her image might just set her healing back for days.

  She tested her lips, opening them slightly and wincing at the pain. “I…think…so.”

  Her voice drifted, sounding ever so faint.

  The man approached slowly, never taking his eyes from her. He removed his hat and hung it on a peg. “Good. But don’t tire yourself out.”

  He pulled up a chair and sat down. “You’ve been hurt bad and it’s going to take time to heal proper-like.”

  Gloria nodded. “Where…am…I?” she managed to ask.

  “In a safe place.”

  His ominous answer didn’t quell her curiosity, but she knew she only had minutes before she’d fall into a deep sleep again, the effort to sit up, to try to talk, draining her energy.

  “I found you,” he said. “There was a fire at your house.”

  “Fire?” She got that one word out, but it didn’t mean anything to her. She couldn’t remember anything of that night. Last she’d seen of Boone, he’d gone outside to have a smoke. She’d stayed in the kitchen, cooking his evening meal.

  “Your husband is dead.”

  “Boone.” Gloria’s mind flashed an image of her husband, his sharp temper and sour moods. She’d tried to be a good wife to him, but early on she’d discovered she’d made a terrible mistake in marrying him. She didn’t want to see him dead. But the love she’d had for him had died long ago. Yet, a single tear trickled down her cheek. He must have died in the fire.

  “He’d been stabbed to death. Murdered.”

  Gloria blinked her eyes, her heart racing as fast as her mind. Someone had killed Boone.

  The man touched her cheek, wiping away the tear. Gloria didn’t flinch and she didn’t turn away from him. Perhaps she was too weary or perhaps a slow tentative trust had developed while he’d cared for her. Either way, Gloria was too stunned at this horrible news to worry about the stranger right now.

  Once again, she searched her mind for answers, but came away with nothing. She couldn’t recall a thing.

  “Did he do this to you? Did he beat you?” He spoke with compassion, but the usual soft edge of his tone had vanished.

  Gloria swallowed. She struggled to take in a lungful of air. She had no answers. “I…don’t know.”

  The man tried to hide his frustration, but she saw it in the twist of his mouth, the narrowing of his eyes. “You don’t know?”

  “I…can’t…remember.”

  He leaned back in his chair and stared at her.

  “You’d better rest,” he said, after a time. “Now that you’re awake, I’ll bring you broth. You must be half-starved. Close your eyes until I come back.”

  Gloria’s stomach seemed to be working fine. It grumbled aloud and there was no need to answer. The man smiled and got up to leave.

  After all he’d told her, Gloria’s mind had clouded with one thought after another, until they lay atop each other in her mind. It would take time for her to sort them all out, but she had one question for him. Something she would muster the energy to ask. “Wait,” she called out quietly.

  He turned just as his hand reached the doorknob.

  “Who…are…you?” she asked.

  He paused, as if making up his mind how to answer. All she wanted was his name. And after a long moment, he responded.

  “My name is Steven.”

  Chapter Three

  As the days went by, Gloria became stronger. She’d spent the better part of those days sleeping, her body needing the rest. And each one of those days, the man called Steven had come to wash her, to apply more salve on her bruises and to feed her light meals. Even in her sleep, she’d felt his presence, knew instinctively he’d been there, watching her, perhaps worrying over her.

  She’d tried many times to get more answers from him, but he had a knack for being evasive, promising her that once she was strong enough, he would answer all of her questions. She estimated she’d been here five days.

  And today she felt strong enough to hear his answers.

  Gloria lifted up from the bed and placed both feet on the carpeted floor. With determination, she stood up, taking a moment to gain her balance. The room spun. Gloria paused, letting that sensation pass. Then once again, she moved, taking a step forward on weakened legs. She almost stumbled, then righted herself.

  Then Steven walked in.

  Gloria immediately tied the silk wrapper that had magically appeared one day on the edge of her bed, tighter around her waist. />
  “What are you doing, Glory?” he asked in a stern voice. He came forward, curving an arm around her shoulders.

  “I’m getting up,” she said, trying to hide her frustration. “And my name is Gloria Mae, not Glory.”

  He ignored her comment regarding her name. She still didn’t know how he knew her, which baffled her because she couldn’t recall ever meeting him. He’d refused her that information each time she’d asked.

  “It’s too soon to get up,” he stated.

  He stood close, held her tight and with tender care. The scent of him, fresh, clean and perfectly groomed struck her with clarity. She liked the way he smelled. She liked him. He was kind and good to her, but anger boiled up inside regardless. She couldn’t tamp it down no matter how hard she tried.

  He held all the answers, but denied her that privilege. “It’s not too soon. I’m ready. I can walk.”

  He huffed out a breath. “Okay,” he countered, raising his voice.

  She moved slightly, her knees buckling. He caught her, gripping her arms gently—always so gently. “You don’t need to do this today.”

  “I’ll tell you what I need, Steven. I need to stay out of that bed. I need to move. I need to walk. But most of all, I need a bath!”

  Steven’s lips curved up in a smile he tried to hide. “A bath?”

  Then he laughed, a full-out flagrant laugh that caught her completely off guard.

  She chuckled, too, the sound so distant, so foreign as though it was coming from someone else. How long had it been since she’d laughed? She couldn’t remember. And she discovered something else as her chuckles died down, the laughter erupting in her chest had caused her no pain. She was truly healing, thanks to this man. Thanks to Steven.

  “Okay, a bath it is,” he said, in that compromising way he had. “I’ll make you a deal. If you go back to bed, I’ll bring up hot water so you can take a bath.”

  Gloria twisted her mouth. She wanted to bathe so badly she could almost feel the water droplets caressing her skin, cleansing her body and warming her unsettled bones. “Deal.”

  Steven helped her back to bed. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

  Gloria rested back against her bed pillows, once again wondering about Steven. Today, without compromise, she’d find out where she was. Today, she’d find out about Steven and why he was so determined to help her.

  Today. Sometime.

  Definitely after her bath.

  Steven entered the kitchen to find all of Lorene’s girls seated around the table, eating their afternoon meal. He was somewhat annoyed at them for not being willing to help with Glory and her needs, leaving him to do the most inappropriate, yet necessary things to the woman.

  “Mattie, when you get time, heat up several pots of water, please.”

  “Yes, sir, Steven.” Her face flamed at using his given name, but she smiled this time. Maybe the shy girl was coming around.

  “Do you take an afternoon bath, Señor Steven?” Carmen asked in her heavy Mexican accent.

  “I bet it’s the girl who wants the bath,” Julia chimed in, after forking a chunk of beef stew.

  “Ah, and Steven’s going to help her, right?” Merry asked.

  Steven glanced at their smiling faces, all bright and eager to hear about Glory. “No,” he said adamantly. “I’m not going to help her,” then added, “exactly.” He scratched his head, definitely thinking he shouldn’t go anywhere near Glory Shaw, in her natural form—unless of course, she needed his help. Damn, but he’d have to stay close by, just in case. “I was hoping one of you ladies might volunteer, out of the goodness in your heart.”

  “We are good,” Carmen said, grinning and glancing at her friends at the table. “We are told all the time.”

  The rest of the girls chuckled at her joke.

  “But we said straight away, we want no part of that…that—”

  “That…woman,” Steven finished Julia’s sentence, giving her a stern glance. Of all women, Julia should understand Glory’s predicament. After all, Lorene had found her penniless, after she’d been robbed of all her funds, beaten and left for dead. Lorene had taken her in and given her a job, cleaning house. It had been Julia’s choice to enter into the life at Rainbow House. That had always been Lorene’s policy. No innocent inexperienced girls would “work” here. She’d always gotten them back on their feet and allowed them to decide. They could go, as many had, or they could stay. Lorene never compromised the girls. They were here by their own choice.

  “She’s wanted for murder,” Ruby reminded.

  “Sheriff Brimley wants to question her,” Steven explained. “He has no proof one way or the other.” He didn’t mention the bloody knife that had been found by a neighbor, the one he too had found, right in Glory’s hand.

  “What does the girl say?” Eva asked, her dark eyes cold and unforgiving. She wasn’t much older than Glory’s eighteen years, yet there was a hard edge to her, one that aged her considerably. She’d had a rough life also before coming here. “Does she claim her innocence as they all do?”

  Steven drew in a deep breath. “She has no memory of that night. She doesn’t even know she’s wanted for questioning.”

  “Steven,” Ruby warned, “the girl should be told. Last night, I heard something from Big Joe Strowleski. He said Boone Shaw’s brother Ned is making accusations. He’s claiming his sister-in-law killed his brother. He’s been shooting off his mouth in town about Gloria Mae Shaw getting away with murder. He went to the sheriff, demanding justice.”

  Steven’s gut clenched. The last thing Glory needed was her brother-in-law stirring up trouble. She was already a suspect and if Ned Shaw knew anything about her guilt, he’d be sure to tell the sheriff.

  “She needs to know what kind of trouble she’s in,” Ruby said with a firm nod of her head.

  “She wasn’t up to hearing it before.” Steven spoke defiantly, defending his actions.

  “But she is now,” Emmie offered gently. She’d been the only one who had remotely helped Glory, by giving him advice as to how to tend her. Emmie’s father had been a doctor and she had assisted him, learning all that she could as a young girl, until a renegade Sioux attack had destroyed her family and sealed her fate. She’d moved on, leaving the plains and the life she’d known to live with a relation here in Virginia City. Lorene had taken her in when she’d heard her aunt had passed on and Emmie had nowhere else to go. “I’m glad she is recovering.”

  The girls all peered at her with suspicion.

  “Well, I am. She didn’t deserve getting beaten up like that. No one does.” Emmie looked around the room, casting each girl a somber look.

  Steven knew many of the women had had bad experiences before coming here. That’s why Lorene had hired Marcus, the watchman. He stood by the door and made sure none of the girls would be subject to any cruel behavior by the men. If Marcus didn’t like a man’s appearance, he wouldn’t let him into Rainbow House, no matter how much gold he waved in front of him. Marcus was loyal to Lorene. They went way back. “And,” Emmie added, “the sooner she heals, the sooner she can leave.”

  Steven had heard just about enough of this. He understood the girls’ attitude about Glory, but didn’t agree with it. She hadn’t done anything but write some articles and post some signs. Whatever else she’d done to close down the brothels in Virginia City hadn’t worked, either.

  The fact remained that there were thousands of lonely miners in town who had need of female companionship. Rainbow House and the other bordellos provided the men a place to unwind, have drinks and conversation and satisfy all of their other male needs without guilt or recrimination. Nothing Glory could possibly do would change that.

  Steven planted his fists on his hips and spoke with quiet determination. “She’s staying as long as she has to. I don’t want any of you thinking any different. And not a word to anyone about this.”

  “We won’t say anything,” Ruby announced. “We all owe Lorene. We’re not going to d
o anything to upset her. She already feels responsible for getting Reverend Caldwell killed. The last thing she’d want is for his daughter to get strung up. Right?” Ruby glanced at all the girls.

  They all nodded in agreement. At least, Steven could bank on their loyalty. They might be “soiled doves,” ladies who weren’t held in high regard by normal standards, but they were loyal to Lorene.

  “Okay,” Steven said, “fair enough. And one more thing, if Ned Shaw comes in here, I want you to be especially nice to him. Get him talking, then let me know what you find out.”

  The ladies agreed and Steven took up the large pots of steaming water. He gritted his teeth, realizing now he had two obstacles to overcome.

  Telling Glory the truth.

  And giving her a bath.

  Both made his nerves go raw.

  Gloria sat patiently on her bed, waiting for Steven to finish filling the tub. The steam rising up from that hot tub made her toes curl in anticipation. She knew she’d feel so much better after a long relaxing soak.

  “Okay, all ready,” Steven said, coming out from behind the partition that hid the tub. He glanced at her with those wonderful eyes and she nearly melted into a silly puddle. When she wasn’t spitting mad at him for keeping her in the dark about so many things, she found herself drawn to him in ways she’d never been drawn to Boone.

  That fact in itself baffled her.

  Gloria had been raised by a pious man, one who believed wholeheartedly in the sanctity of marriage, of living a clean wholesome life, of holding the Lord and all his teachings with the utmost regard. He’d taught her the value of honesty, of truth and morals. He brought her up believing that good shall always prevail against evil, although, the Lord in his wisdom often tests us.

  So now, with her husband Boone not gone from this earth five days, Gloria found herself attracted to the man who had clearly saved her life. Perhaps it wasn’t unusual for a victim to feel something for her savior. Perhaps what she felt for Steven was only profound gratitude for saving her life.