Tempting Bethany

by Stacy Reid

  "I have work to do," he said, fully intent on mounting his stallion with his rifle and scouting the range, assessing the tracks, to ensure no hidden dangers were lurking. He spun and walked away. Before he turned down the hallway, he said, "I don't plan to leave anytime soon, Jenny. And if I ever do, it won't be for months. A few weeks maybe."

  It had taken them a few days before Beth, Kathy, and Joshua departed the triple K ranch. She had gone into town and sent a message to her mother in Boston, indicating that her arrival was imminent. While Beth had waited for the answering telegraph from her mother, Joshua had spent his time wrangling broncos and gently taming a group of wild stallions. She had watched him from her window, a massive boulder of grief, loss, and confusion pressing against her chest. In the nights she had cried, hoarse sobs of despair she hadn't been able to suppress. She wanted Joshua Kincaid with her entire soul, but she also wanted the promise of safety in a more civilized place. She was desperate for the comfort of her mother's bosom and the peace of walking down a street unmolested. More so, she wanted to flee from the memories that tormented her thoughts, the ones of her pushing her knife into that man's throat, the warm spray of blood on her body, and the remorseless way Joshua had ended Abraham’s life. What haunted her even more, was how right it had all felt, that dark burn of satisfaction.

  Kathy had been all too happy to travel with her to Boston, her heart also craving for a different way of life. So, they'd taken several stages from Bravo to the town of Sheridan, Kansas—the place where she was to meet up with Mr. David Shaw, the son of the man to whom her mother was married. There they would take the train to Boston. The journey would be less stressful going forward with the Kansas Pacific Railroad.

  The silence between her and Joshua had been painful, and on the few occasions they’d spent overnight at an inn, he had spent the time reading or telling stories to his son. Though he had been polite to her, there was a marked difference in how he looked at her. No longer did he find every reason to touch her. Nor did he look as if he was desperate to kiss and make love to her. Nor did he read to her anymore. And she understood, to be like that would only make their parting much harder than it already was. It had been so hard not to ask him to hold her. It was unfair, especially when she knew she could not give him what he wanted, what they both wanted. But Beth couldn't look at him and not want him.

  They had arrived in Sheridan several minutes past. The view westward of the Bighorn Mountains was beautiful, but Beth barely noticed it. Her mind was only on Joshua leaving to return to the Kincaid ranch. Sheridan was a busy and prosperous town with work in logging and coal-mines in the vicinity. Although it was apparently expanding fast, it had none of the permanence and elegance of the big western cities like Boston and Pennsylvania. This was still a country town surviving on the arduous work of its inhabitants. Joshua had collected his stallion and tied him to the hitching post near the livery. Then with their small luggage swung over his shoulder, he walked with her and Kathy toward the hotel.

  They entered the lobby of the hotel. A lady and a gentleman were at the front desk, and there was a man seated in a high back chair reading a freshly pressed newspaper. He glanced up, and the eyes that settled on her widened. Her hair had been pinned loosely atop her head, and several tendrils framed her face. She had dressed in a peach ruffled silk blouse, a dark green velvet skirt, with a matching hat perched atop her red curls. This man had no cause to ogle her in such a rude manner.

  He surged to his feet, and Beth faltered when he strode over. He wore a broadcloth suit, ruffled shirt, and his shoes were shined enough to cast a reflection. He was handsome with his dark blond hair, squared jaw, and one of the bluest pair of eyes Beth had ever seen.

  “Mrs. Bethany Hardin?”

  How she hated even acknowledging that name. But her mother would have told everyone she was married.

  “And you are?”

  “David Shaw, my father sent me,” he said. Her stepbrother was a hotelier in Boston. It surprised Beth he had taken the time to be her escort. Mr. Shaw seemed unable to stop staring at her, for he did not acknowledge Kathy who stood with a sleeping Grayson or Joshua who was coolly assessing the few men in the lobby. In Mr. Shaw’s eyes, she saw a flush of desire that made her uncomfortable.

  "Mr. Shaw, it's a pleasure to meet you." Beth held out her hand, a flush rising in her cheeks when instead of shaking it as she'd intended, he pressed a kiss to her hand. She pulled it away with a tight smile.

  “It is my warmest pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hardin.” He took off his hat and bowed all gentlemanly charm.

  “Please call me, Bethany.” It was quite familiar to offer him the use of her Christian name, but she couldn’t bear to be referred to as Mrs. Hardin.

  “May I present my companion, Miss Kathy Higgins, and my son Grayson.”

  His eyes dropped to the baby. “Ah yes, your mother mentioned you had a son.”

  Was that distaste she heard in his tone? Undoubtedly it was her imagination. He sent a charming smile to Kathy, and she blushed.

  Then Beth turned to Joshua. “And this is Joshua Kincaid.”

  His pale eyes flicked to Joshua and lingered on the guns strapped to his hips. In the city, only lawmen wore weapons, and there was an air of danger that surrounded Joshua Kincaid. Beth didn't believe it to be deliberate. The gentleman before Beth was as polished as polished could get, whereas Joshua was dressed in black pants and dark gray shirt, a black neckerchief tied loosely around his throat. The light spilling through the high windows of the hotel lobby shadowed the hard, savage contours of his face.

  Joshua tipped his hat. “Shaw.”

  He nodded without responding to Joshua’s flat drawl. She hardly understood the tension that seemed to blanket the air.

  “I’ll take the luggage, Mr. Kincaid,” David Shaw said. “And thank you for escorting—”

  “No thanks necessary.” Joshua lowered the two small suitcases that held all hers and Grayson’s and Kathy’s belongings.

  He had said his goodbyes to his son this morning at the inn, and now he only tipped his hat to Kathy. Then Joshua faced her. His eyes were colder and bleaker than anything she had ever seen before.

  “I…we’ll come visit,” she said, biting her bottom lip to prevent the tears.

  He made no answer, just turned and walked away. A cry almost broke from her throat at the pain that lanced through her heart. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin and faced Mr. Shaw. "I'm ready." She failed, for her voice trembled and Mr. Shaw arched an elegant brow.

  His eyes were curious as he watched Joshua’s retreating back. Then Mr. Shaw nodded. “This way, please.”

  They made their way from the lobby and headed through the town to the station.

  She was led to a private car on the train which mighty impressed Kathy but left Beth unmoved. She was dwelling on how alone Joshua had seemed when he had walked away. Red fringed draperies, velvet portieres, and thick wall-to-wall carpets decorated the carriage. The table was laden with an elegant meal that Bethany might have expected in one of Boston’s best restaurants. Fine linen covered their table which was strewn with sparkling porcelain, silver and crystal glasses holding a fine red wine. Uniformed waiters hovered to do their bidding. The seats were well padded and comfortable, but Bethany was conscious that Kathy and Grayson had been hustled elsewhere.

  “My dear Bethany,” a warm voice said, the man producing a silk handkerchief. “Is all well?”

  It was then she realized silent tears were streaming down her face. “Forgive me, the last few days have been rather stressful. I believe I shall retire to my cabin, Mr. Shaw.”

  “Please call me, David. We are family.”

  She nodded, attempted to smile and failed miserably. David summoned the conductor, and she was escorted to a likewise elegantly appointed cabin. Kathy had apparently been given a room adjacent to Beth's, and the girl had taken Grayson, and one of the books Joshua had gifted her with them. In Beth's cabin, there was a small we
ll-padded bed in the left corner, and closing the door firmly, she climbed onto the bed and pressed her face into the pillow.

  The train had already rumbled into motion, and just feeling the grind of the track beneath her filled her with such despair she trembled.

  I'm leaving.

  It should have been a cause for celebration, she had yearned for the more civilized east for a very long time. But all Beth felt was the rending of her heart and the discomforting absence of Joshua Kincaid.

  Several days later, Beth crossed the threshold of one of the most elegant townhouses she'd ever seen. Stone steps led up to double doors a little above ground level. The construction was mostly from fine red brick, but the front doors had stone pillars and classical surrounds. The frontage seemed to be mostly brilliantly illuminated windows, showing that no expense was spared. Half windows beneath the ground floor indicated that the kitchens and servant's quarters were elegantly appointed. Three generous stories including attics were above the basement level. Her mamma had married a wealthy hotelier in Boston. One of the best she'd said and his connections were powerful. That was how Beth had been offered the job as a teacher at a very upscale private girl's academy without submitting even a reference for past work.

  Anxiety knotted her stomach. She hadn’t seen her mother in so long and how many nights she had buried her face in her sheets and sobbed for her comforting arms. Grayson wiggled in her arms, his face scrunching, and it was then she realized how tightly she held him.

  “Would you like me to hold him?” Kathy asked holding out her arms.

  “No, I have him,” Beth murmured, trying to calm the nerves fluttering in her stomach.

  The sounds of their heels echoed on the marble floor, and her heart was a dull thud in her ear. She heard nothing as David spoke with the butler, Beth’s entire being was concentrated on the woman who now rounded the corner.

  Oh, Mamma. How glorious Elizabeth Shaw seemed. Her dark red hair was piled atop her head in an elegant chignon, and she wore a high-necked, yellow-and-white-striped buttoned blouse with matching skirt, and her dark-blue eyes glowed with a warm welcome…and tears. Still, she was the picture of refined elegance. Her mother’s hand fluttered to her throat, and with a watery laugh, she rushed forward. “Oh Sweetheart, I have been longing for this day,” she said, her southern drawl almost eclipsed by more clipped accents.

  Beth moved to meet her, uncaring of the tears streaming down her face. “Oh Mamma, how I’ve missed you.”

  Her mother tried to hug her, but Grayson was having none of it. He broke out into a babble of excited chatter that drew her mother’s gaze to him.

  “Oh, how handsome he is,” she said, running a finger down his cheeks. “What a beautiful boy.”

  She looked up at Beth, smiling, and then looked behind her to Kathy. Beth made swift introductions, and her mother warmly greeted the young girl who seemed struck by the opulence of the townhouse. Her mother ushered them into the parlor and rang for refreshments.

  A cot was brought down for Grayson, and she glanced at her mother.

  “I ordered it the instant you said you were coming to Boston, sweetheart. It has been here for a week.”

  Beth smiled. "Thank you." It was difficult for her to admit the dire straits of her finances. She had already eaten into a portion of her funds by paying Kathy six months' salary in advance and buying the girl a few new clothes. And Beth wanted to secure some schooling for the girl if she was interested. She only wanted to gather her bearings and settle in before she broached the subject.

  The door opened, and a slightly large, imposing man entered. Beth presumed this was Mr. Emmet Shaw. He was shockingly handsome, and right away she saw where David inherited his good looks.

  “I’ve wanted to meet my daughter,” he said warmly, coming over to her. “Welcome! Welcome to Boston, my dear.”

  Daughter? He was presumptuous, but Beth found that she didn’t mind it.

  “Mr. Shaw, I’m very pleased to meet you,” she said smiling.

  He gathered her in a brief hug, surprising her.

  "Your mother is thrilled you are here my dear, and so am I."

  “Thank you for having me.”

  His manners were as neatly tailored as his clothing, and the way he gazed upon her mother spoke of a man truly enamored. Beth smiled. At least her mother was happy with her lot in life. The war had taken a lot from her, especially that fine plantation house in Virginia which she had so loved. Her mother had been a sought-after socialite in Virginia, and it seemed she had landed amongst the elite as well in Boston.

  “Oh, darling when I got the news that your husband had died. How sad you must have been,” her mother said, “Benjamin Hardin had been a fine man.”

  She was saved the necessity of a reply as Grayson started to fuss.

  “And who is this handsome young man?” Mr. Shaw asked, peering down into the cot.

  “Mamma, Mr. Shaw, may I present my son, Grayson Ki…” She faltered, and her mother threw her a questioning glance. “Grayson Kincaid Hardin,” she said, hating that any part of her son had that man’s name. But she would never be able to tell her mother of the kind of life she had endured west.

  She then introduced Kathy who was also greeted warmly. David Shaw joined them in the parlor, and the next couple of hours blurred as she laughed and chatted with her mother and her new family. It should have been the most pleasant of times, and she should have been happy, but it took everything from Beth to pretend contentment when she had a hole in her heart that she was beginning to fear would never be filled.

  Chapter 15

  Elizabeth Shaw, Bethany's mother, held a ball, and from the crush in the ballroom, it would be declared a success. Some of Boston's most elegant ladies and gentlemen twirled with sleek vigor across the ballroom to the romantic strains of a waltz. Chatter and laughter danced on the air, and the champagne flowed freely. It had been two weeks since her arrival in Boston, and the ache in her heart had not eased. In truth, it had multiplied dreadfully. Her days had been filled with useless social rounds as her mother introduced her to Boston’s society. They had shopped for a new wardrobe, and Beth now had more dresses, hats, shoes and assorted fripperies than she knew what to do with. It didn’t take long for her to become bored and she had only been back for such a brief time. Perhaps things would look up once she started her new post—the very one her mother was insisting she did not need to fill, for Emmet Shaw had happily provided Beth with a generous allowance.

  She had met with the principal of the academy she was to teach at, and Beth was only waiting for the confirmation letter before she would start preparing. Yet there was no excitement inside her, nor did she feel at peace. Pain and loneliness were a thick knot in her throat, and her nights were filled with tormenting vivid dreams of Joshua Kincaid.

  “Sweetheart, how delightful you look,” her mother murmured, coming up to her elbow. “I see Major Audley is unable to take his eyes from you.”

  Beth wore a rose-colored gown, with a low-cut neckline that just stopped short of being provocative. Her hair was pinned into a complicated arrangement save a few wispy tendrils which had escaped to curl around her cheeks. She wore no jewelry, although Mr. Shaw had attempted to give her a diamond necklace and earrings set. It had been too extravagant a gift, and she had refused it to his great disappointment, but she would not be deterred.

  “I believe the Major wants an introduction,” her mother said with a smile.

  A faint stirring of unease had been lingering inside her. For the last few days, all her mother spoke of was Beth remarrying. “I do not believe he wishes anything of the sort.” All the man had done was stare at her, the appreciation in his eyes far too warm. She was content he hadn’t approached her and seemed too busy with the bevy of women surrounding him.

  “My dear, I cannot help but feel that you’re unhappy. Is it because you are still grieving?”

  She faced her mother. “I’m not grieving Benjamin Hardin. In fact, I am glad h
e is dead.”

  Her mother jerked, shock widening her eyes, the slow horror dawned. “Bethany, sweetheart—”

  “Mamma, it’s fine. Forgive my outburst. But I do not want you to believe I am pining for that man. One day, I’ll speak of our marriage to you, but not now,” she said softly.

  Her mother sighed and then nodded her agreement.

  Beth admitted to herself that she needed to try harder to mask her aching heart. There was an awful disquiet piercing her heart she could no longer hide. Her mother had commented only a few hours earlier how pale she seemed and now this. Since she departed the Triple K ranch, Beth had been restless and empty. Truly she had thought once she was in Boston, she would sleep undisturbed, the sense of safety was all she needed to rest peacefully. Instead at nights she twisted, restless, her heart aching with a pain she had never endured before. I miss you so much already Joshua. The few nights when dreams of being attacked woke her, there had been no comforting arms to hold her, no Joshua to strip her naked, and make love to her until all the nightmares receded.

  Beth felt as if her wants and desires had changed but without finding a new direction. She felt she needed something. Only she didn't know what that something was. She hated lying to herself. In the last few days, it had been evident what she hungered for. She knew why her nights were listless, and why she sobbed into her pillows.

  I want Joshua Kincaid…

  The worried stare of her mother from across the ballroom made Beth realize she hadn’t moved from the high balcony. She had to mingle and be seen to have an enjoyable time, if only for the sake of her mother. Several minutes later, Beth chatted and laughed with a few ladies and gentlemen, and she was pleased with the relief in her mother’s eyes. It didn’t take Beth long to realize she was a curiosity amongst the Boston society that frequented her mother’s home. She took a sip of her glass of champagne, peering over the rim at Miss Dahlia Lodge, a young lady who seemed keen on befriending her. Beth thought Miss Lodge was in love with Major Preston.