The Courting of Widow Shaw

by Charlene Sands

  “That’s the truth.”

  “So, are you saying you’ve never—”

  “Never.”

  “But you seem to know, I mean to say, you seemed so experienced when you kissed me. I thought—”

  Kissing Glory had come as naturally as breathing. She was a woman made for passion, although her sense of morality and perhaps the horrible way she’d been treated by her husband had her questioning and doubting herself. She knew nothing of the pleasures that can occur between a man and woman. “Glory, I didn’t say there haven’t been women, just not the ones you know at Rainbow House.”

  “Oh,” she said, understanding dawning in her bright eyes. This sure wasn’t a topic Steven wanted to discuss with her.

  He scratched his head. “What’s this all about, anyway?”

  Glory hesitated and he witnessed great indecision in her expression. Then, taking a deep breath, she explained, “It was something Ned said. He told everyone I’d been a terrible wife to Boone. I began thinking that maybe it was true. I was young and inexperienced. There’d been a whole lot I didn’t know. I kept the house clean, put decent meals on the table every day and listened when he spoke. I’d been good at that, but maybe, not good enough…in other ways.”

  Anger surged forth, taking hold so strongly that Steven had to mentally bank the emotion before he could bring himself to speak. “You’re good enough, Glory. Any man who doesn’t think so is a fool. You’ve got nothing to worry about in that regard.”

  Glory didn’t appear convinced. The woman didn’t know how beautiful she was, both inside and out, how making love to her should be a thing to cherish, to treasure. He couldn’t fathom her lacking in that way. He’d had a small taste of her passion and it was unforgettable. Yet, he was certain nothing he could say right now would change her mind.

  “One day, you’ll know it for a fact, Glory. Now, it’s getting late. It’s time we both turned in. I’ll walk you to your room.”

  “No need,” she said quietly. “Good night, Steven.”

  He watched her walk away, then settled himself down on the sofa. Judging by the way his bones ached it wouldn’t be long before he fell asleep. He closed his eyes and relished the silence.

  Minutes later, high-pitched whimpering disturbed his peace. He rose to search for the pleading sound, finding Buddy scratching behind Glory’s door. The dog looked up with eager eyes. Steven knew he’d been tossed aside, in favor of someone far more appealing. “Smart dog.”

  He lifted Buddy and knocked on her door.

  Glory answered the knock instantly. “Oh, I was just about to get him,” she offered. “After I finished undressing.”

  Lantern light cast a teasing glow over her body. Her nightgown covered her well, but Steven couldn’t miss the curves and hollows underneath, silhouetted by the dimming light. Her hair cascaded down her back flowing freely, wild and loose. Steven’s willpower ebbed somewhat, but he clung to the remaining shreds.

  He handed the dog over. “Seems he prefers your bed.”

  Glory scooped the pup into her arms and cuddled him close to her chest. The dog’s head fit snugly between the slopes of her breasts. She kissed the pooch lovingly. “He can sleep with me.”

  Steven rocked back on his heels. “Well, heck, if that’s all it takes, I’ll be scratching at your door tomorrow night.”

  Glory’s face flamed, then she looked him squarely in the eyes, her chin up. She spoke softly, but with conviction. “Sweet, stubborn…and ornery.”

  A chuckle escaped. Glory could always make him laugh. “See you in the morning, Glory.”

  He settled back down on the sofa with a deep sigh of resignation. Glory made his tired body come alive. He banished all of the enticing images flashing in head. Wouldn’t do him any good to hope or to wonder.

  But he knew one thing with absolute certainty.

  He’d never had cause to envy an animal in his entire life, but that curly-haired mutt was one lucky dog.

  Chapter Fourteen

  There was blood everywhere. Red pools like streaming rivers cut the ground in two. Shouts and screams rattled in her head. “Don’t kill him,” a voice called out. “Don’t, please.” And the face of a stranger appeared, a coldblooded murderer. He held a knife in one hand and a gun in another, but a moment later he was gone, melting into the crimson ground until he became the very blood he’d caused. For miles, all she could see was the thick red liquid. It layered the earth, climbing over shrubs, up trees and fanning out to spread its wrath on everything bright and clean and pure.

  And then the fires came, the flames whipping about like wielding swords eager to slice the sky in half. The bright color of heat mingled with the blood. There was no separating it now, no way around it. She was engulfed in flames and blood. Black smoke choked the air like the devil of death.

  “No!” a voice cried. “Don’t kill him.”

  Smoke layered the air like a thick blanket. She couldn’t see anymore, the flames too bright, the blood too red, the smoke burning her eyelids.

  She screamed and screamed, the stranger’s face appearing once again, then disappearing, and others came as well, to laugh, their scorn evident in their evil smiles.

  And then her father appeared, his face so calm, so at peace. “It’s all right, my child. Have no fear. There is always light, even when darkness consumes you.” Then he was gone.

  “No, Father, don’t leave me. Don’t go, please,” she cried.

  She felt herself being lifted, as if floating up, cushioned in the safety of familiar arms.

  “Glory, shh, honey. It’s all right now.”

  She opened her eyes as beads of perspiration trickled from her forehead. Her heart pounded hard and fast as she gazed into Steven’s concerned eyes. He sat on the bed next to her, cradling her as one would a child, and great relief flooded her senses. The nightmare was over.

  “Steven.”

  “I’m here, Glory. You had a bad dream.”

  Thoughts rushed in as she became fully aware of where she was and whose arms held her so tenderly. “I, uh, it was awful.”

  “Tell me,” he asked, “I want to know.”

  “I’ve never dreamed of that night before. It’s the first time that I recalled anything.”

  “That’s good, honey. What did you remember?”

  “I saw the flames and the blood. I saw faces, Steven. Many faces but nothing makes much sense. I can’t seem to puzzle it out. It seemed so real, so clear, but now the memory is fading. I’m losing it.”

  “It’s all right, Glory. That’s how dreams are sometimes. But it’s a good sign. It means that your memory might return soon.”

  Glory trembled, a shaking she couldn’t control. The dream had seemed so real. It had been harsh and wicked. If the reality of what happened that night was as true then Glory wasn’t sure she wanted to recall anything more.

  “Tell me, who did you see in your dream?”

  “Strangers mostly, and some faces I recognized, but I can’t be sure, because it’s all kind of fuzzy now.”

  “You cried out for your father.”

  “Yes, he was there. He came to me just before,” Glory stopped, realizing the significance in what she would now admit. “He came to me just as you lifted me up. He came to save me.”

  But it had been Steven who had saved her both then and now. It had been Steven to rescue her from this bad dream.

  “Can you remember if Ned or Boone were in your dream?”

  “I think so, but I can’t be sure.” She seemed to recall familiar faces, but they’d all frightened her, except of course, her father’s face. That had been the only consolation in her dream. “Why do you ask?”

  “I wonder if all the talk of Ned Shaw today stirred up your memory.”

  “It’s possible. I just don’t know.”

  Steven tightened his hold on her. “You’re trembling. Try to calm down, honey.” He lowered his voice, whispering softly, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
r />   Glory peered into Steven’s eyes. His concern touched her in ways she’d never been touched before. Other than her father, no one had ever been so protective. No one had ever made her feel this safe, when in truth she had no reason to believe it so. She wanted to ask him why he cared so much, but she knew the reason. He’d said it once already. He felt responsible for her. She was his obligation. For tonight, as her trembling ebbed and her heart slowed, it was enough.

  Steven lowered her down onto the bed. “Can you sleep?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Want to try?”

  Glory held on to Steven with no thoughts of letting him go. He came down onto the side of the bed next to her, his hold on her comforting. Glory feared sleep now. She feared reentering that nightmarish world again. Steven would be her savior tonight. She cradled her head onto his chest and snuggled in. “Yes, I want to try.”

  And when Steven wrapped her into his arms good and tight, Glory took her first calm breath.

  She knew her demons wouldn’t reappear tonight.

  Steven woke slowly, the delicate scent of roses curving his lips up into a smile. He opened his eyes and his smile widened. During the night Glory had turned onto her side and now he found himself behind her, her body tucked provocatively against his. His hand rested on her torso, his fingers spread out, just under the swell of her breast.

  His body grew tight instantly.

  He squinted against the pain in his groin, trying to ignore the sharp pang of desire that seized him with gripping intensity. He wanted her with such yearning that he could barely breathe. He knew the smart thing to do would be to get up and put some distance between the two of them, but he couldn’t quite manage that. He couldn’t bring himself to give up the sense of peace that settled in his gut as he woke with Glory by his side, regardless of the pain that being so near her caused.

  There wasn’t much he could do but relish the time he had with her. Tangled in the sheets, with hair flowing freely now, blond waves covering his pillow, she made the prettiest picture, one that would stay with him long after Glory was gone.

  Steven held on to the moment as long as he could and just as he lifted up to rise, Glory stirred. She shifted, made a little pleasured moan then turned his way. She wound up in his arms, faces close, bodies even closer.

  She blinked, then cast him the sweetest of smiles. “You stayed.”

  “And you slept. Peacefully, I hope.”

  She inhaled deeply and gave him a slow nod. “Yes, peacefully. Thank you.”

  “For?”

  “For not making me ask.”

  “Anytime.”

  He reached out to touch her soft cheek, tracing a fingertip down her face until he met with one corner of her mouth. She parted her lips slightly, an innocent enough move that sparked his internal fire. “You’re pretty in the morning light.”

  She glanced at his lips for a long moment, then sighed. “This is highly improper,” she remarked, as if just coming to realize she’d slept with him last night.

  “It was innocent enough, Glory. A friend helped comfort another. There’s nothing wrong in that.”

  Glory contemplated, her brows knitting together. “Are we…friends?”

  She was much more to him, but for now, perhaps always, he’d have her think it so. “Well now, that’s up to you.”

  She’d spent most of her time at Rainbow House hating him, or so she’d said. Steven wondered what emotions played havoc with her mind. He wondered how she truly felt about him. And he also wondered if she’d ever see him differently, as the man that he’d become, regardless of his upbringing.

  Glory stared at him, her expression unreadable.

  Steven used that time to rise, moving away from her enticing body and tempting mouth. He’d be her friend for as long as she needed him, but lying beside her had him thinking more than friendly thoughts. She’d blush down to her toes if she knew the path his mind had taken.

  He bent to cover her to her chin with the sheet. “While you’re thinking on it, I’ll go check the horses. Go back to sleep if you’d like.”

  Buddy, who’d been lying at the foot of the bed, took advantage of Steven’s leaving. The dog scooted forward and found the curve of Glory’s body then settled in. Without thinking, it seemed, her hand went to the dog’s fluffy head and she began to pet him.

  “I’ll make breakfast,” she offered immediately.

  Steven knew that although she needed more rest, she’d felt it her duty to cook for him. He shook his head. “No. You rest up some more. You didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m not all that hungry, anyway.”

  Casting him a tentative look, she asked, “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. I’ll see you later.”

  She yawned and stretched out. Sleek as a cat, her arms rose above her head and once she settled down into the bed again, she nestled with Buddy. “I’ll make something special for supper.”

  He nodded, wishing he could climb back in bed with her and hold her the way he had last night. She was the only “something special” he wanted. “You’ve got yourself a deal, honey.”

  Glory closed her eyes and nodded slowly, drifting back to sleep before Steven had walked out of the room.

  Glory burned supper. The special meal she’d promised Steven hadn’t turned out special at all. She’d ruined the pork that he’d brought back with him yesterday from the ranch where he’d bought his horses. Overcooked and tasting just this side of old leather, Steven had managed to chew and chew and chew until Glory thought his teeth would fall out. But he’d made no comment, even when her potato pudding had turned out watery and tasteless. The only thing edible from the meal was the leftover peach pie that Mattie had sent along. Glory denied herself a piece, losing her appetite all over again when she noted Steven’s steadfast expression.

  He’d taken his punishment without qualm or complaint.

  Tears stung her eyes so she turned away to wash the dishes. She poured water into the dry sink and took up a washcloth.

  She stilled when Steven came up behind her. “Need some help?”

  She shook her head, praying her tears wouldn’t flow, hoping he wouldn’t see her devastation over something so insignificant as a ruined meal. But Glory was devastated, for many reasons, the most prevalent being the state of her life at the moment. Coping with everything that had happened in the last year hadn’t been easy, but she’d survived, barely, until ruining one silly meal had brought it all to a head.

  Doubts crept in. Steven had convinced her to stay with him here, but wouldn’t everyone be better off if she turned herself in?

  Steven held out hope that she’d remember something soon. The nightmare she’d had last night weighed heavily on her mind. Was she on the verge of getting her memory back, or was that nightmare more a result of all the talk Merry had brought to her about Ned and his misgivings?

  She’d been distracted while cooking up the meal. It had been the cause of its imminent destruction, but her distraction had gone further than her nightmare. Her mind had wandered off, daydreaming about waking up with Steven beside her. He’d stayed throughout the night, without pause, without her having to ask and when she awoke, she’d been happy to have him there.

  Were they only friends? Or something more?

  “Glory?” Steven’s question had gone unanswered.

  “I’ve m-managed to spoil your dinner,” she said in a shaky voice, “the least I can do is clean up the kitchen.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.”

  She whirled around to face him. “It was horrible. You nearly choked every time you took a swallow!”

  Steven chuckled, a light coming into his dark eyes. “Okay, so it wasn’t exactly—”

  When he hesitated, Glory pursued his replay. “Exactly what?”

  “Edible.”

  “There! You see. It was horrible.”

  Tears dripped from her eyes. She hated to appear weak and ridiculous, but she couldn’t put a halt to her emotions. S
he couldn’t stop the onslaught of her feelings. She’d bottled them up too long and now, all she felt inside came barreling forth.

  “Glory, what’s wrong? And don’t tell me ruining one meal’s got you so disturbed.”

  She threw her hands up in despair. “It’s…everything.”

  She turned abruptly and took up the washcloth, her tears flowing down freely. She scrubbed a pan with all of her might. Steven stood behind her and she fully expected him to sigh with exasperation, the way Boone always had whenever she’d been distraught.

  But Steven had simply removed the washcloth from her hand and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Lean back, Glory. Lean on me.”

  She sobbed. “S-seems I’m always…l-leaning on you.” But she rested back against him anyway and laid her head on his shoulder.

  He was strong and powerful and so sure of everything. Being in his arms helped her connect with that. He helped strengthen her, pulling her out of her dark despair.

  “You have every right to be frustrated and frightened. You have every right to hate what’s happened to you. You go ahead and cry if that’s what you need to do right now. But remember this. You’re not alone. I’m here.”

  She nodded slowly, letting his words calm her, letting his strength sustain her. She wasn’t alone. She had Steven. And he had her gratitude.

  He tightened his hold on her. “I know what you need—to get out of here for a time. And my new mares need exercising. We can take a ride later on when the sun fully sets. Would you like that?”

  She smiled and turned to him. She knew she must look a sight with a tear-streaked face and puffy eyes, but she didn’t care at the moment. “I’d love that, Steven.”

  Glory rode a bay mare named Nutmeg, her cinnamon-brown coat glowing beautifully in the moonlight. The sleek female horse took her lead from Black Cloud. Steven had insisted on riding the stallion, claiming the horse had been restless tonight and needed the exercise. They rode into the back pasture on Steven’s land, making sure to keep to the cover of darkness. Glory wore her midnight-black cape, her head covered with the hood.

  She wasn’t an expert horsewoman, so Steven had chosen the most gentle of horses. The lady-broke mare had intelligence, knowing with just a slight move or tug on the reins what Glory wanted of her, making her night ride more pleasurable.