The Widows Choice

by Hildie McQueen

  Rafe rounded the ranch house later that day carrying wood for the fireplace. He stopped short at seeing Charlie on the porch. With her head bent, she sewed, taking advantage of the bright sunshine. He studied her for the moment before she'd notice him.

  Relaxed, her lips curved slightly at the corners, her features soft. The breeze blew the loose tendrils of hair across her face and she reached up to brush them away. The woman was beautiful, enticing.

  When Charlie noticed him, for an unguarded moment, she studied him, her gaze falling from his face to the wood he carried. Just as quickly her expression shuttered, becoming harder, as if a shield fell.

  "Good afternoon, Misses Kennedy. How are you feeling?" Rafe asked.

  "Much better, thank you." She went back to her sewing, an obvious attempt to dismiss him. When he didn't move, she looked back up with expectancy. "Is something on your mind, Mr. Preston?"

  Something in him stirred. In that moment a feeling of wanting to protect her lodged in his chest. A need to look over Charlie Kennedy, get to know her became strong. At the same time, he knew it wouldn't come easy. Not good timing, either. Whatever had happened in her past, made her distrustful and aloof. "Will you be joining us for dinner tonight, Misses Kennedy? Or continue to avoid our company?"

  She straightened and frowned. "Why do you ask such a thing? Surely it's my choice when and who to eat with."

  "So you prefer to eat alone then?" he prodded, finding amusement when she bristled, scowling at him.

  "Mr. Preston, is the wood not getting heavy in your arms?" Once again she returned to her sewing and pulled the needle through the fabric with deft smooth motions.

  When Rafe put the wood on the edge of the porch, she looked up with a questioning expression, then frowned.

  "Why do you mistrust me?" Rafe pulled his handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the perspiration from his face. "Have I given you reason to?"

  Charlie let out a huff. "I don't know you, Mr. Preston. Of course, I don't trust you. Around here it’s best to sit back, give people time to show who they really are. You'd best learn that if you plan to stay. Not everyone is trustworthy."

  "I understand that. But I rather give people the benefit of a doubt. Like you said, time will tell, but I trust that most people are good. And there is a difference between trusting fully and giving people the benefit of a doubt."

  She looked out into the distance, it was obvious her mind went elsewhere for a few moments. "I tried that, Mr. Preston, and paid a high price for it."

  Whatever she meant by the statement, Rafe could see someone in the past had cause her great pain. He suspected it was a man and whoever the bastard was, had done a lot of damage.

  "I'll leave you to your sewing then. Enjoy the afternoon sun." He lifted the wood and climbed the stairs.

  Just as he reached the door, she spoke. "Thank you for helping Joe around here. It's much appreciated."

  When he walked back outside moments later, Charlie was no longer on the porch. Instead she stood a few yards away. Her hand shielding her face from the sun, she looked off into the distance. Three horsemen rode toward the house.

  "Mr. Preston, will you remain with me for a moment?" she asked, her attention not leaving the men. "It's Winfrow, my neighbor to the west." She didn't say anything more, instead went back to stand on the porch and Rafe followed. When the men neared, only one dismounted from a beautiful palomino. The man look to be in his late thirties. Of nondescript appearance. He knew automatically this was Jessup Winfrow.

  Winfrow was of normal height and build, with sandy brown hair and a thick mustache. He seemed like most men by outward appearances. The same could not be said for his shrewd eyes as they scanned over the lands before moving to them. They were cold and calculating, slow when blinking reminding him of a reptile.

  Immediately the man focused on Rafe, barely giving Charlie a glance. When neither of them spoke, the man looked to her. "Hello, Charlotte. Came to see about you. Doc told me you were unwell." His gaze skimmed over her. "You look to be recovered."

  "There was no need for you to trouble yourself by coming. Unless there is another reason for your visit." Charlie's voice dripped with ice, yet it seemed to have little effect on Winfrow.

  Winfrow narrowed his eyes at Rafe. "I don't believe we've met."

  "Rafe Preston," Rafe said not moving from beside Charlie. "And you are?"

  Winfrow gave him a droll look. "I'm sure Charlotte told you who I am. I own the lands surrounding this ranch." He gave an impatient huff and looked to Charlie, who remained stock-still. "Can I speak to you in private for a moment?"

  "If you wanted privacy, why did you come with two men?"

  Winfrow looked to Rafe, as if challenging him to speak. Rafe remained quiet, allowing Charlie to take the lead although it went against every fiber of his being. His body quaked with the need to confront the man and demand he speak with more respect. But he knew instinctively Charlie would not appreciate it.

  "All right," Winfrow said and looked over his shoulder. "You boys go on ahead. I'll catch up." He gave Rafe a triumphant look. "Now, Charlotte, may I have a word?"

  She turned to Rafe and gave him a soft nod. "I'll be fine. Please let Mary Ellen know I'll join everyone for dinner in a few moments."

  Although it was obvious she did not want to speak to Winfrow, Rafe had no choice but to leave. He had no claim over her, no right to do what his instincts screamed for him to do. "I'll be within hearing range, if you need me." He threw a warning glance at Winfrow who narrowed his eyes.

  Once inside he paced by the door, which he left open. If the bastard tried anything he would not hesitate to hurt the man.

  Chapter Six

  "So you found some ranch hands. Newcomers at that. It surprises me. You're not normally the trustin' kind." Winfrow smirked allowing his gaze to linger on the doorway through which Rafe had entered. "Looks to me like that one is already feeling proprietary over you."

  Charlie wished Rafe hadn't left. It was not a good feeling to be unprotected and without support, vulnerable to whatever Winfrow spewed. She squared her shoulders and jutted out her chin. "You wished to speak to me. What is it about?"

  As was his habit, he didn't get straight to the topic. Instead he played a game of intimidation, holding her gaze not looking away. No doubt an attempt to get her to fidget or looked away first.

  Charlie refused to play the game. Tapping her foot, she rolled her eyes. "I know all your tricks, so don't pull this fear thing with me. You know as well as I do why Joe couldn't find any help in town. You hired or paid off everyone so no one would come work for me. It’s not going to work. I will never sell you my ranch."

  Winfrow's lips twitched, as if he found humor in her words. "I am not asking for you to sell it to me. Make things easier on everyone concerned and marry me. We can join our lands and you won't have to worry about runnin' things. Can devote your time to other things like raising our children."

  It took a lot of willpower not to shudder when his gaze roamed over her body with leisure. "Long time since you've been with a man, Charlotte. I know the nights can be very long."

  She would not satisfy him with a remark on propriety. It was what he wanted. To shock her. To unsettle her. Instead she lifted one shoulder in what she hoped looked like an easy shrug and looked toward the doorway through where Rafe had entered the house. "What's to say I am lonely?"

  "Ha!" He threw his head back and laughed. "I know you enough to be sure you are not allowing either of the newcomers into your bed. Always been more the conservative type."

  It occurred to her that he'd only seen Rafe. How did he know about Jerrick? "I don't know why you think you know me so well. You were a friend of Daniel's, but we rarely had cause to be in the same room. If that's all you wished to talk about, then I must tell you, my answer is still a resounding no."

  Winfrow's eyes narrowed with anger. "Stubborn woman. Not sure what you want. You know damn well you can't run the ranch on your own. Joe i
s old and maybe he could manage a smaller homestead. But this..." he motioned toward the field with one arm, "is too much for the old geezer. Go ahead. Face reality. You're gonna run this place into the ground. It's a damn shame. Sell me the cattle and half the land. You'll have enough money to take care of a smaller herd and a smaller ranch."

  A part of her hated to admit Winfrow was right. They were having a hard time keeping up with everything that had to be done. The ranch was too large and even though the money from selling the cattle would help maintain them for a year, maybe a bit more if she was frugal, it was doubtful they'd make enough the following year to sustain them.

  Charlie glared at him. "I'd rather run my ranch into the ground, as you say, than sell to the likes of you, Winfrow." She took a breath. "I don't know why you can't just let me be. Why do you want more. You already own more land than anyone in Colter Valley and have more than enough money."

  Something flickered in his eyes. He looked past her toward where the cattle grazed lazily, their tails swishing side-to-side, oblivious to the drama playing out. "I have my reasons." He tipped his hat at her. "I'll be speaking to you again very soon, Charlotte. And you best keep those newcomers at a distance. Never know, maybe they have ulterior motives worse than what you think I have."

  He mounted and gave her one last long look before spurning his horse to a gallop. Charlie let out a breath, her heart pounded against her breast as she climbed the steps to the porch and collapsed onto a rocker.

  The only thing she agreed with Winfrow about was the newcomers. She planned to keep an eye on Jerrick and Rafe. At the moment she needed their help too much. Just that morning, Joe had said they needed to convince them to stay on longer.

  The cattle would be herded once more before the buyer came and there was the harvesting to be done right after. Not to mention the mending of fences, repairs to the roofs on the stables and bunkhouse. The list of things needing to be done seemed to grow daily. With only two ranch hands, they would be busy for months.

  "Are you all right, Misses Kennedy?" Rafe's smooth voice fell over her and instantly she inhaled, allowing herself the luxury of looking into his dark brown eyes. For a few beats, she wanted nothing more than to confide in him, to ask him his opinion.

  No one had to tell her he was intelligent and more experienced in ranching than she was, it was obvious in his stance, the assured way he carried himself. He was not a man who smiled or had an easygoing nature like Jerrick. But more subdued, almost stoic and yet she felt the urge to trust him.

  Behind his gaze, she sensed a sort of restlessness. If anything, she could relate with that. How often she'd dreamed of doing something, of somehow changing the direction of her life. But instead, she was stuck. Horseshoe Ranch was her home, a large beautiful gilded cage.

  "I suppose you gathered that I am not fond of Mr. Winfrow." She measured her words. "He is very wealthy and also powerful here in Colter Valley. Many people seem to blindly follow him."

  "But you don't." It wasn't a question, more a statement. He lowered his large frame to sit in the chair next to hers.

  "No, and he doesn't take too kindly to that fact. Winfrow is used to getting his way and when anyone doesn't agree with him, he removes them."

  When he scowled, Charlie wanted to believe he was not involved in Winfrow's scheme. But there was no way to know for sure. Rafe turned his attention toward where Winfrow had rode off. "I think I can speak for Jerrick when I say, if there is anything we can do to help you. To ensure Winfrow doesn't bother you any further, please let us know and we will do it. A man should never disrespect a woman in such a manner."

  It occurred to Charlie that she shouldn't be sharing so much with Rafe, yet she could not stop herself. In his gaze there was concern, and better yet, he kept his eyes on her face, but not trying to intimidate, unsettle or look down on her.

  A part of her yearned to ask him to hold her. Not in a sensual way, although she was sure he would construe it as that if she asked. In that moment vulnerability and a cold loneliness settled over her. "It's the west, Mr. Preston. Propriety is rarely adhered to out here, it seems. Some people forgo it and manners altogether."

  His nod was slow, his expression pensive. "Is there anything I can do?"

  There it was the question she feared he'd ask. It was a low point, she'd recognize it later, but in that moment it took all her strength not to burst into tears. Charlie held her hand out and Rafe took it with both of his. She shuddered at the warmth enveloping it and was thankful for his silence.

  Holding her hand between his, he kept his attention away from her, instinctively seeming to understand she didn't require more than that. A person to hold her hand and allow her to settle. For a long time, they remained like that, sitting side by side, her hand in both of his until she let out a breath. "I best go inside and check on supper." She pulled her hand away and met his gaze. "Thank you, Mr. Preston, for understanding."

  She stood and he got to his feet as well. It was impossible to keep from looking up at him. She'd never in her entire life seen a man as attractive. The sun had tanned his skin to a wonderful golden hue, his glossy dark hair fell to his collar, and those lips. Charlie could only imagine what they'd feel like over hers. She turned away abruptly and allowed him to open the door for her.

  "I will go see if Jerrick and Joe need any help." He walked away and she remained at the door looking after him.

  "There you are," Mary Ellen emerged from the kitchen as she walked in. "Supper will be ready in about an hour. I must have dozed off while reading, just woke up a few moments ago. Rafe was pacing like a mad man, his boot steps are what startled me awake." Her friend's shrewd eyes took her in. "What happened to you? You're pale."

  "Winfrow was here."

  Mary Ellen raced to the front door and peered out. "Why didn't you keep Rafe outside with you? He could have done anything. That man has a short temper."

  "I should have asked Mr. Preston to remain outdoors, perhaps. I asked him to step inside and wait within earshot, in case I needed him."

  Her friend neared and rubbed Charlie's upper arm. "What did Winfrow want?"

  She let out a long breath. "The same thing he always wants. My land, my cattle, and me." When she raised her hand to brush hair away from her face, she noticed trembling fingers. Was it due to Winfrow or because of Rafe?

  "I wish someone would stand up to that cad," Mary Ellen said, her face contorted with anger. "He is the devil incarnate. Maybe you should speak to Sherriff McKade about this."

  "The sheriff has his hands full. Although he is one of the few people not in Winfrow's pocket, there really isn't much he can do about him. Other than the McKade brothers, there is no one else who can match Winfrow's power as far as money and such. Plus he's got those hired guns that run with him."

  Mary Ellen was Daniel's younger sister, who came to live with them soon after Charlie arrived. She and the woman became fast friends. Mary Ellen was five years older than her, now thirty and never married, which puzzled Charlie. There was a gentle kindness to Mary Ellen, which made people feel at ease around her. At the same time, her friend was strong and determined, which Charlie admired.

  When Charlie asked Mary Ellen why she didn't seek a husband, she always said to be waiting for a kind man and loving fair man, who worked as a carpenter, which made Charlie giggle as she wondered if her friend realized it sounded like Jesus.

  After Daniel died, she'd asked her to stay in Colter Valley. A proud woman, Mary Ellen had only agreed if she could earn her keep by cooking the meals. Soon they found an easy rapport. Mary Ellen handled all the cooking and helped with the gardening while Charlie did the rest of the housework.

  "So," Mary Ellen gave Charlie an interested look. "What did Rafe say about it? He was sitting with you outside for a few moments. You weren't mean to him were you?"

  Charlie huffed. "Goodness, Mary Ellen, you defend him and Jerrick as if they are trustworthy. We don't know them. What's to say Winfrow didn't hire and send them h
ere to spy on me?" She held up her hand to keep her friend from speaking. "Winfrow knew I hired two men, even though only Rafe was present when he rode up."

  "They are good people, Charlie. I have a sense about these things. Both are here to start new lives. If you joined us for dinner and talked with them, got to know them, you'd understand and have fewer doubts." Mary Ellen went toward the kitchen and Charlie followed.

  She began to stir and check on supper, while Charlie pulled plates from the cupboard and set the table for five. "Don't you find it interesting that Winfrow knew about Jerrick?"

  "Not at all. The man knows everything that happens in town. Rafe and Jerrick rode through town and made inquisitions. I'm sure one of Winfrow's boys rushed to him with the news of newcomers. Darn fools can't get to him fast enough, too scared of repercussions."

  "That's true," Charlie replied while considering that was a very feasible explanation. "There is something else." She waited until Mary Ellen met her gaze. "Some of what Winfrow told me today rang true. He said Horseshoe was too large of a homestead for me to run alone. That I could manage a year, two perhaps if I'm lucky, but that eventually, I'd run this ranch to the ground."

  Mary Ellen's expression of concern confirmed she also thought the same. It could be she was allowing her pride to stand in the way, that the solution to it all was to sell everything and move far away. Or she could remain in Colter Valley. It would be enough money to buy a small house and settle in town. She let out a breath and looked out the small window. "I am not sure what is best, Mary Ellen. I can't help but think he's right."

  "Of course, he's not right," Mary Ellen huffed and put a hand on her hip. "He just wants to break you. Make you doubt things so he can swoop in and buy you out. You are a strong and smart woman. Sell if you must eventually, but never to Winfrow." Mary Ellen's eyes twinkled with mirth. "Or marry someone else. That would be the perfect way to prove him wrong."

  The men approached and Charlie caught sight of Rafe. Her breath caught when his eyes met hers and she turned to Mary Ellen. "Is there anything else I can help with?"