The Courting of Widow Shaw

by Charlene Sands

  Glory worked until noon on broadcloth curtains with the smallest flowery print in shades of pinks and blues, happy to have completed them before meal-time. With the curtains up in the bedroom now, keeping her privacy intact, Glory set about making a quick meal in the kitchen. She lifted the egg basket only to find it empty. “Darn it.”

  Glory had her heart set on an easy meal of grilled eggs. She’d wanted desperately to finish her new dress before the end of the day. She glanced out the window, noting that the henhouse just beyond the barn couldn’t be more than fifty feet away from the house. Without a soul in sight, Glory debated for half a minute about venturing outside before she hoisted the egg basket and strode out the front door. She’d be back within minutes, she reasoned, and no one would be the wiser.

  Glory made quick work of retrieving the eggs from the cackling hens and stomped off the hay that had littered her boots as she made her return to the house. She was halfway through the yard when a moving flash caught her attention. On instinct, she turned in that direction. Her breath caught instantly as she noted a rider coming forth in a wagon from far off in the distance where the land had become flat and visible for miles after a rather long arduous bend in the road. “Mercy!”

  With the egg basket balancing precariously in one hand, Glory raced to the house and once inside bolted the door shut realizing that she was completely exposed. The parlor windows were large and inviting, allowing any element, be it man or beast to peer inside. She’d wished she’d had the forethought to cover those windows as well.

  Heart pounding like a wielding hammer, Glory squeezed her eyes shut. What should she do.

  The image of cold metal popped into her mind and as much as she hated to admit it, relief swamped her as she strode with purpose to retrieve the gun from her mattress. Steven had said she shouldn’t have fear, only respect for the weapon, and right now, Glory had nothing but the utmost respect for the Army revolver whose pearl handle felt like ice in her hand.

  She debated about staying put in the bedroom, but a curious need to see who rode up to Steven’s ranch had her moving quickly to the front window. She crouched down low and peered out, her face barely peeking out from the low window frame. The wagon continued to amble down the road, only now Glory could make the image out more clearly. And it wasn’t a wagon at all, but a buggy with one sole rider at the reins.

  She let out her breath and straightened to full height, straining her eyes to make out the passenger. Only once she was absolutely certain, did she drop the gun and unbolt the door, letting out a loud whoop. “Merry!”

  Glory began waving, relief and joy erupting into giddy laughter as she witnessed Buddy, the apricot pooch jump down from the wagon and race toward her on his short speedy legs.

  “Oh, what a treat!” She scooped Buddy up into her arms the moment he reached her and snuggled her face into his curly fur. It wasn’t but a minute more when Merry’s buggy pulled up, her eyes bright, her face flushed under the noontime sun.

  “It’s good to see you, Glory!” Merry set the brake on the buggy and bounded down from her seat with all the exuberance of an eager young child.

  “And I’m glad to see you doing so well! Gosh, Merry, you look wonderful.”

  Merry grinned. “I feel pretty wonderful.”

  Glory set the pup down and embraced Merry with warmth. This unexpected visit, today of all days, was truly welcome. Glory hadn’t realized how much she’d missed female companionship of late. Growing up in Virginia City, where the male population greatly outweighed the female, Glory hadn’t made too many lasting friendships. Oftentimes, what families had come didn’t stay long if the mines or fields hadn’t paid out and those few girls she’d come to know as friends had moved on with their families, most likely searching for the next big gold strike.

  Glory had found solace in time spent with her father and in his teachings. It wasn’t until she’d come to Rainbow House and gotten to know some of the women there that she realized how much she missed the camaraderie that went on between womenfolk.

  “I have news to tell,” Merry said with a smile, “and a favor to ask.”

  “Well, surely.” Glory grasped her hand. “Come inside, please. Steven’s gone to pick up his horses, so it’s just the two of us. I hope you’ll share your news with me over Mattie’s peach pie. She sent along some provisions to make sure I don’t starve Steven to death.”

  Merry chuckled. “That sounds like Mattie. I think I’m going to miss her cooking most of all.”

  “Watch your step. As you can see, Steven hasn’t built the porch yet, but it’s an easy climb up into the house. Come on, Buddy.” The pup raced past them and with a big jump, landed onto the entrance of the house.

  Glory ushered them inside the kitchen then set out plates and poured lemonade into two big Mason jars. She sliced the pie and served it with a dollop of cream. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you.” Merry took a bite and glanced around the kitchen, her eyes seeming to take it all in.

  “It’s not finished yet,” Glory explained, feeling a bit proprietary of Steven’s house, though she truly had no right to feel that way at all. “Steven’s going to build cabinets and there’s more to do, but it’s—”

  “Nice, real nice, Glory. I like the curtains.”

  “I made them yesterday.”

  “Steven’s got to be pleased…having you here and all, making his house a home.”

  Glory swallowed and glanced away. “It’s…awkward. I don’t really belong here. I don’t really belong at Rainbow House. I don’t know where I fit in. Steven sees me as an obligation and living with that, knowing what he might face if I’m discovered here, that’s the worst of all.”

  “Steven knows the consequences, Glory. That tells you something about him, doesn’t it?”

  Glory stared at Merry for a moment. “He’s dutiful, that much I know.”

  “And honorable. Lorene saw to that. Surely you don’t blame Steven for anything that happened in the past.”

  Glory thought on that, realizing that she didn’t hold Steven personally responsible for what had happened to her father. She’d be a fool to think so since Steven hadn’t had a choice in his life, being the son of a well-to-do whorehouse madam, any more than she’d had, being the daughter of a preacher. “No, I don’t blame Steven,” she said honestly, but she’d also realized she’d been far less generous with forgiveness. It’s where her faith truly tested her and Glory knew without a doubt that she’d failed in that regard. “But it doesn’t change anything. Nothing at all.”

  Merry’s eyebrows lifted with her smile. “Doesn’t it?”

  Glory shook her head at her friend’s probing questions. She should be irritated at the things Merry brought to light, yet Glory found her company enjoyable. There wasn’t any use dwelling on things she couldn’t very well change and that meant any kind of relationship with Steven Harding being completely out of the question. “No, Merry. If things were different, maybe…”

  “You’d fall in love with Steven?”

  Inwardly, Glory gasped with shock, the thought of loving another man— Steven—was too perplexing to contemplate. She ignored the shudder of anxiety that coursed through her. She spoke softly and as directly as she could, “I thought I loved Boone. That was a mistake. Perhaps I don’t know what love really is.”

  Merry smiled, but with sympathy and understanding in her eyes. “I thought I loved someone, too, but whether you truly do or simply think you do, the pain is the same, I imagine.”

  Glory peered up into a set of eyes that were wiser and more perceptive than Merry’s young years. “When did you get so insightful?”

  “Since you saved my life, I believe. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. I’m leaving town day after tomorrow, so I came to say goodbye.”

  “Oh, Merry. Everyone’s going to miss you terribly, but you’re doing the right thing.”

  “I know. I wired my folks to let them know I’m coming. Got a wire back just yester
day afternoon and they’re happy to have me come.”

  Glory reached over the table to take hold of her hand. She squeezed with gentle pressure. “Of course they’re happy, Merry. You’re their daughter.”

  “It won’t be easy,” she said, her voice strained. “But I’m determined.”

  “That’s good. My father used to say an easy task isn’t really a task at all. He’d say, the harder the trial the bigger the reward. I think he meant that in all ways, not just dealing with the Lord.”

  “Yes,” Merry said softly, “I think he was right.”

  “Father was…often right,” Glory said, speaking with great sentiment. “I’m glad you came out to say goodbye, Merry, but I know Steven will regret not seeing you.”

  Eyes twinkling, Merry jested, “Well, I’ll leave it to you to give him a big farewell hug for me.”

  Glory smiled. “You know I’ll do no such thing, but I will say goodbye for you.”

  Merry’s mood sobered as she lifted Buddy onto her lap. The pup licked at her hand, a subtle command to stroke his head, which Merry obliged without pause. “I have other news. Ned Shaw came calling last night.”

  Just the mention of Ned’s name brought a measure of fear and foreboding. Glory hadn’t been especially close to Boone’s brother, but she knew he blamed her for Boone’s death. He’d been the one so sure of her guilt, making all manner of accusations. Glory still had no memory of that fateful night when Boone died, the night her world had been shaken to the very core, so she couldn’t defend her actions, couldn’t deny any of his accusations.

  “And he spoke of me?” she asked, holding her breath.

  Merry hesitated. With eyes downcast, she nodded. When she finally lifted her head, her expression spoke of sorrowful regret. “Yes, he spoke of you.”

  Glory swallowed, almost fearful of asking. “W-what did he say?”

  “He said, uh, that you’d been a terrible wife to Boone. He said that his brother shouldn’t have died by your hand and that you’d run off, getting away with murder.”

  Glory sat perfectly still, unable to take a true breath of air. “Dear Lord.”

  “Glory, he was just spouting off,” Merry offered in consolation. “He’d come in looking dapper, wearing a fancy new suit, and flashed enough cash around for everyone to see. Ruby made sure to keep his whiskey glass full and his tongue wagging. He’d gone on about his rich strike.”

  Puzzled, Glory asked, “His rich strike?”

  Merry nodded. “It seems his claim is very prosperous. He’s pulling hundreds of dollars’ worth of ore out every day.”

  “But I remember nothing of the sort. Ned had fallen on hard times. He had debts. Boone said his brother had always been foolish at the gambling tables. Weeks before Boone died, Ned had come to the house, asking for money but we had no cash to loan him. Ned had been just as distraught as Boone, discouraged that his claim had all but played out. Neither one of their claims were worth the time they’d put into them. Although, Boone hadn’t been working his claim for some time. He’d pretty much given up. I thought Ned had as well.”

  Merry shrugged. “Do you think that he would have come by the money another way?”

  “I don’t know,” Glory said, deep in thought. She peered into Merry’s questioning eyes. “It doesn’t seem likely.”

  “It’s a puzzle, then,” Merry said, stroking Buddy’s curly fur. “You’ll tell Steven what I had to report? He said he wanted to know every word that came out of Ned’s mouth.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell him.” Although, Glory didn’t see how this information, baffling as it seemed, would help in any way.

  An hour later, Glory stood in the parlor, arms outstretched as Merry pinned the bodice of her new dress. “Isn’t it a big snug?” Glory wiggled about realizing there was hardly room to breathe.

  “It fits your form perfectly, Glory. Would you rather it fit like a sack?”

  “Of course not, but a bit more breathing room, please.”

  “All right, I’ll let it out some. It’s really quite pretty on you. I bet Steven will like it.”

  Glory made an unladylike snort, a trait she’d picked up from Carmen. “It’s not as fancy as Emmie’s gown. And it’s surely more suitable for a…for me. I doubt he’ll care one way or the other.”

  Merry stopped working to gaze up at her. “Steven will notice and he’ll care, even though you’ve buttoned yourself up to your neck with material.”

  “It’s a proper dress, Merry.”

  “Yes, I agree. Proper, but there’s still no hiding behind it. You’re covered up, but your form is just as exposed as before. A woman can’t hide her body from a man, if he’s at all interested. Men can see beyond all that.”

  Glory lifted her brows but she didn’t voice her question. It was painfully obvious that Merry knew a good deal more about men than Glory, but she didn’t want or need any instruction on what entices a man. She wasn’t living with Steven for that purpose, yet the thought had crossed her mind whether he would like her new dress or not.

  Glory squeezed her eyes closed, admonishing herself for worrying over Steven’s reaction to her attire when he arrived home later. Mercy, she had more important things to think about. A heavy cloud of doubt hung over her head at the prospect of being discovered and arrested for a brutal crime she didn’t know whether or not she’d committed.

  Merry smiled warmly as she continued pinning material, working on the hem now. After a time, she muttered, “You just wait and see.”

  Glory wouldn’t have long to wait since Steven had promised to come back before sundown. The hours had flown by. Having Merry here had not only been a great distraction, but a pleasant surprise as well. They worked together on the dress until it was finished, Glory happy to listen to Merry chatter on and on about her folks, her home and her hopes for the future.

  When it came time for Merry to leave, Glory walked her outside. Midafternoon sunshine beat down on them in the yard. Merry turned to her with a smile. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Oh, Merry. I’ll miss you, too. And thank you again for helping with the dress.” Glory had put it on the instant the dress was finished, determined to give Emmie back her gown once she’d washed it.

  As she stared at Merry, a deep sense of peace settled in her belly. Glory knew in her heart that Merry’s homecoming might be a bit difficult in the beginning, but she had no doubt that Merry would be welcomed with loving arms. She wanted to offer to write to her, but Glory had no future to speak of, no way of knowing where she’d be or how she’d fare. She’d been clinging precariously to the present, without much regard for the future.

  “I was glad to help. After all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I can do. And even as I say that, I still have to ask a favor of you.”

  “Anything, Merry. I’ll help you in any way I can.”

  Merry hugged her tight, a joyous, jubilant embrace that sparked Glory’s curiosity. What on earth could she possibly agree to do to make this girl so happy?

  “You’ll take Buddy, then? You’ll keep him for me?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Glory glanced at the pup that had fallen asleep at her feet on the kitchen floor in utter disbelief that Merry had given him up. The young girl’s reasons seemed sound enough. She didn’t want any reminders of her hurtful past and although it wasn’t at all Buddy’s fault, the memories would be still be there to haunt her every day and night. Merry had made her decision days ago to give him up, even before Glory had moved out to the ranch with Steven. And the ranch seemed far more fitting for a rambunctious little dog, where he could run wild and free, rather than to be cooped up indoors most of the day at Rainbow House.

  Merry hadn’t changed her pet’s name after all, deciding to leave that up to Glory, if she was so inclined. Glory had been too stunned at the notion of keeping the dog, and what Steven might have to say about it, to worry about what to call Buddy. Buddy was a fine name. Wouldn’t the animal become confused if she’d changed his name now,
when the poor pup had a new home to contend with as well?

  “Oh, I don’t know about this,” Glory muttered out loud. The pup lifted his head upon hearing her voice, then lazily plopped it back down to rest on his front paws and close his eyes once again.

  Glory stirred beef stew over the stove, tossing peeled carrots and string beans into the pot. She had potatoes boiling as well and hot coffee brewing. Glancing out the window, she looked for signs of Steven’s return. Glory had managed to keep herself busy with chores and Merry’s visit, but now bright orange pools lowered on the horizon as the sun faded rapidly, a constant reminder that Glory was once again alone.

  After Merry’s departure earlier in the day, Glory had replaced the gun under her mattress, thinking she’d been fast to reach for it when she’d spotted that buggy coming toward the house. But she’d been grateful for having it, feeling far less helpless and vulnerable. As it turned out, she’d had a pleasant afternoon with a new friend, instead of fearing for her life and having to defend herself.

  The carrots had just about softened in the pot when Glory heard the distant sound of thundering hooves. Buddy began barking and raced to the front window. Glory followed him and peered out. Steven had arrived, just as he’d promised, before the sun had fully set, bringing with him a string of horses. Glory didn’t know much about livestock, but the small herd he guided into the corrals seemed a fine-looking lot.

  Joy washed over her, a tingling that started at her crown then followed its way down her arms, chest and torso until her entire body was enveloped with stunning sensation.

  “He’s home.”

  Buddy lost interest immediately and walked away from the window, but Glory continued to smile, happy to see Steven home safely. Happy that he’d succeeded in bringing his horses in. On impulse, she flung the door wide, ready with a heartfelt greeting, but indecision warred in her head. She couldn’t call to him. She couldn’t race into his arms. This was not a happy homecoming for a man who shared a life with his woman.