The Widower's Wife

by Prudence, Bice

  Dalton delivered Marcus and Bethany at the station with plenty of time to make their train. He waited there until the train was out of sight, and then wasted no time in heading back home. When he was about a third of the way there, he felt the wagon drift to the side of the road. He had been lost in his thoughts again, something that had been happening often lately, and had allowed the reins to go slack. Old Decker, who seemed to be getting lazier by the day, had decided that since he hadn’t felt a tug on the reins for a long while, he would try his luck at grazing on the tall grasses along the side of the road. Dalton quickly pulled the reins tight to the left in order to center the wagon on the road again, but not before Decker’s right front leg fell into a deep gopher hole. The wagon jerked to the side as the horse fell lame. Dalton heard the front wheel crack.

  Dalton unhitched both horses, led Riley to the back of the wagon, and tied him up. Retrieving his rifle from under the wagon seat, he walked back around to where Old Decker lay in obvious pain.

  With a heartfelt sigh of grief, he lifted his rifle to his shoulder. Killing his own horse was one of the most difficult things a man had to face. A man got quite attached to his livestock out on the frontier, and Old Decker had been a good old horse, although somewhat of a rascal at times. He was saddened to see him have to go this way. Laurellyn always had a soft spot for him, especially since he hadn’t been treated well by the gambler who had sold the horse to his father. The children were sure to miss him too.

  “Good-bye, old friend,” Dalton murmured softly. He took careful aim, slowly pulled the trigger, and in an instant, Old Decker was gone.

  After dragging his dead horse’s body from the road with the aid of the surviving horse, he walked back to his wagon and assessed the damage to the wheel. The break was beyond his ability to repair. Luckily, another wagon happened by just then, heading toward Darlington, and its owner was willing to take his wheel for him and drop it off at the blacksmith’s. So, after moving his wagon farther off the road, Dalton climbed atop Riley and followed the other wagon back into town.

  By the time the wagon wheel was repaired and delivered back to Dalton’s wagon, it was past nine. It took him the better part of another hour for him to secure the wheel to the wagon again in the dark. He knew Jillian and the children were probably worried, so he drove toward home as fast as he dared with Riley being the only horse pulling the damaged wagon.

  Exhausted, Dalton pulled the wagon to a stop as quietly as he could near the barn and set the brake. He looked back at the house, noticed a light still on, and then saw a figure lying on the porch. Trusting Riley would stay put, he quickly jumped down and walked over to the house.

  When he got closer, Dalton saw that it was Jillian on the steps. He looked down at her, so adorable sleeping there curled up in his old coat. She was so beautiful. The strands of moonlight that filtered through the porch roof caressed her face softly, making patterns on her cheeks. She looked so peaceful that he did not want to wake her. He knew she had been through a lot today, with her brother leaving, caring for a sick child, and then having to worry about him.

  Dalton reached down and lifted her easily into his arms. She was so light, almost like a child. He felt her shiver in her sleep. Under the coat she wore only a thin nightgown, and he could feel the cold skin of her legs through the fabric. He hoped she had brought warmer clothing than this with her, because the winters here could be harsh.

  Dalton carried her into the house and up to her room. Pulling the bed covers back, he laid her down carefully so as not to wake her. He gently pulled her arms out of his coat slowly, one at a time, and set it aside. Then he laid her back down and reached for the blankets to cover her. When his hand briefly brushed against hers, she unexpectedly grabbed a hold of it, rolling over on her side and pulling his arm around her. Dalton froze.

  “Dalton, you’re home,” she whispered. He could tell she wasn’t awake. She was talking in her sleep, but still, he did not pull his hand away. She gripped it firmly. He maneuvered himself fully on the bed and lay on his side next to her. What am I doing? he thought. He decided to stay for a while longer, until she fell into a deeper sleep.

  He watched her breathe slowly and admired the way her thick eyelashes lay softly against her cheek. He was tempted to trace the brow above her eye with his fingers. Her hair lay in splashes on the pillow beside him and smelled of roses and wildflowers. Dalton breathed the scent of it in deeply. She burrowed more deeply into her blankets, releasing his hand, but he made no move to leave.

  Dalton couldn’t resist taking a strand of her hair delicately between his fingers and feeling the softness of it. Before he knew what he was doing, he lifted the hair from her neck and kissed the ivory skin that lay hidden there. He paused for a moment when he felt her body quiver. She snuggled her body in closer to him, and from her dreaming lips came the whispered words, “I love you, Dalton.”

  Jillian felt something soft and warm brush against her neck. Instantly, she was awake and aware that Dalton was lying beside her. She had been dreaming of him moments before, and now he was here. She felt his lips travel to her ear briefly before finding their way back down her neck and to her shoulder, lingering there. Trying to lie still, so as to not break the spell, she felt herself tremble despite her efforts. He paused. Slowly, she turned her body so that she could meet his eyes in the moonlight. She couldn’t miss the passion in them, and her heart beat faster.

  Dalton brought his hand to the side of her face, and he softly caressed her lower lip with his thumb. As his head descended to hers, she instinctively closed her eyes, and immediately his lips were soft and wet upon her own. Suddenly, it was as if there was a burning within him, and he could not quench his thirst. His kisses became deep and demanding. Jillian answered him with her own growing passion. They kissed with a mutual need and intensity.

  All at once, he broke the seal of their lips and laid his head down on the pillow next to hers. His breathing was hard, and she could plainly see him fighting for control. Groaning audibly, he turned his back to her and sat up on the side of the bed.

  Putting his face in his hands, Dalton pinched his eyes tight and tried to think. How did he end up here? Her confession of love had been his complete undoing. He wasn’t a fool. He knew she was dreaming, but it had been a long time since he had heard those words from the lips of a strong, beautiful, compassionate woman. His mind tried to reason an excuse for his behavior. They were man and wife, legally and lawfully married in the eyes of God. Regardless, he felt shame course through him.

  He had given his word. She came to his house without fear of being molested. He was a man of honor and they had agreed before she came as to what their relationship would—and would not—be. Dalton stood up without even turning to look at her. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly and left to tend to his tired horse.

  Eighteen

  Miss Lorelei Davis looked at the address scribbled on the piece of paper in her hand and then glanced again at the massive estate through the closed iron gates. If there was any doubt that she had received the correct address, it was vanquished when she saw the sign hanging above the gate. It read “Grey Manor.”

  Tentatively, she pushed at the gate and walked onto the exquisitely manicured grounds. She was especially nervous to be here, but she felt she had no choice. If this was indeed the family of Miss Jillian Grey, she needed to warn them. Lorelei wasn’t a bad person, and she certainly didn’t want to feel responsible for something evil befalling any person—except for maybe Nathan Shaw—including this unknown woman.

  Lorelei approached the massive door and rang the bell. Moments later a well-dressed butler opened the door and gave her an odd look. Ever prim and proper, he asked, “May, I help you, miss?”

  Lorelei shifted nervously before replying. “I’m looking for a Mr. Marcus Grey.”

  The butler looked her over from head to toe. “Is he expecting you?” he questioned.

  “N-no, sir,” Lorelei hesitantly responded, “but I h
ave an urgent message to give him.”

  “I’m afraid that we don’t expect Mr. Grey back until tomorrow morning, Miss . . . ?” He looked at her expectantly.

  “Miss Davis,” she informed the man. Lorelei started to fret. What should she do? Nathan was already on the train. He would be there the day after tomorrow.

  “I can take the message for him, if you like. I will be sure that he gets it upon his arrival,” the butler offered.

  Lorelei felt that she didn’t have much choice. “Well, I planned on giving it to him personally.”

  “I can fetch you a pen and paper if you wish to leave a note,” the butler suggested.

  Lorelei was relieved. Yes, she could write a quick note, and then she would get out of the city. She was tired of being in Providence. Besides, Nathan scared her, and she wanted to be as far away as possible when he came back.

  While the butler went back inside the house, Lorelei looked around the yards. Yes, this was exactly how she wanted to live. She had made a mistake in choosing Nathan Shaw, but she wasn’t washed up yet. Just then, the butler returned and set the paper and inkwell on the outside table. Lorelei took the pen from his hand, dipped it in the ink, and wrote out her warning. She blew on the ink until it dried, folded it, and handed it to the man.

  “You will make sure he gets this the moment he gets back?” She looked at him sternly, hoping to covey the importance of it.

  “Yes, Miss Davis,” he replied firmly.

  “Good! Thank you, kindly.” She turned and walked down the steps and back toward the gates.

  It wasn’t until she went through and closed them behind her that she finally felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She had done all she could to help the poor girl. Now it was out of her hands. She recalled what had happened two nights past.

  Knowing Nathan’s weakness for gambling and whiskey, Lorelei found a job right away in one of the more popular taverns and started spreading rumors about him. Nothing that wasn’t true, as far as she was concerned. He was a cheat and a liar, and his word could not be trusted. Those weren’t good things to be said about a person in a city like this. She had also spoken of his association with women of questionable character and how he fancied sullying their reputations. She was angry with him for humiliating her and was determined to make him pay. Quite quickly, his name was on the black list of both those in high society as well as those who were not.

  Eventually word started filtering back to her that Nathan had it in for whoever was ruining his good name. Lorelei wasn’t worried. She had been careful about how she’d gone about spreading tales about him.

  She was working at the tavern when Nathan suddenly walked through the doors and glared at her. She wasn’t worried until she saw the daggers in Nathan’s eyes. She decided it would be best to be coy and feign ignorance, on the slim chance he had just happened into her tavern.

  “Why, Nathan Shaw, what a surprise it is to see you here!” She walked over to him. “Can I get you something to drink?” She knew immediately that it wasn’t by chance that he was here. He grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her toward the door. “Let go of me, Nathan, you’re hurting me!” she protested.

  “I don’t think so.” He spoke to her through clenched teeth. “Not until you and I have a little talk.” The tavern’s other patrons thought it was only a lover’s quarrel, so no one offered to help her as he led her to the door. Once outside, he dragged her into the alley on the side of the tavern and held her against the wall with one strong hand.

  “What do you want, Nathan? Let me go before I scream.” Nathan took his free hand, held it tightly over her mouth, and leaned into her. His body was crushing her.

  “I hear you haven’t been saying very nice things about me.” She shook her head vehemently, but it didn’t do her any good. “Oh, don’t lie to me, Miss Lorelei. I know it’s been you. You’ve already caused me enough trouble.” His face was so contorted with anger that she was frightened of what he might do. “You know, if I hadn’t been with you that night, she never would have known. It’s partly your fault that my dear, sweet Jillian broke off our engagement.” Lorelei’s eyes got big. “Oh, that’s right.” He paused. “You thought I was going to marry you.” He laughed hysterically, and the sound of it sent frightening chills throughout her body.

  “You meant nothing to me! It was just a game—one I was disappointed at not winning.” He leaned close like he was going to kiss her, but pulled away again. “Jillian saw us together that night, me playing my game and you playing yours.” He paused dramatically as once again Lorelei looked taken aback. “Oh, did you think I believed anything you told me? I knew what you were all about the moment I saw you. But what I didn’t count on was you messing things up for me.”

  He’s insane! Lorelei thought desperately, but he kept going on.

  “She must have heard you say my name. I didn’t even know she was watching until the next day when her brother”—Nathan paused long enough to make a hissing sound with his throat—“the high and mighty Mr. Marcus Grey, came and broke my nose.”

  Someone stumbled by just then, and Lorelei tried to make a sound to get his attention. Nathan pressed his hand harder against her mouth, causing tears to come to her eyes. He just stared at her for a moment. All of a sudden, his voice turned sweet and milky.

  “Come now, Lorelei. I hate to see a woman cry. Please don’t cry.” He took his hand off her mouth and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’ve made her cry, too. That’s why I’m leaving for Wisconsin tomorrow—to bring her back. She’s sad, and I intend to make her happy again. She loves me, you know. She has loved me since she was a child.”

  Lorelei stood frozen, wide-eyed. She was no longer crying. This was worse than when he was angry. He kept rambling. “She belongs to me. I’m going to get her back, and we’ll go away together. She doesn’t belong to him. She could never love him.” His voice was growing angry again. Lorelei looked around desperately for a way to escape. “They won’t take her away from me.” His lip curled. “She’s mine!” he shouted and looked back down at her. Instantly, his voice was soft again and he brushed his fingers across her face, wiping away an imaginary tear. She shuddered at his touch. “I’ve made you cry.” He brought his fingers to his lips, and then he dropped both of his hands to his sides and walked away, leaving her standing alone, stunned and shaken in the alley.

  Lorelei was still trembling badly when she went back into the tavern. Without saying a word to anyone, she gathered her things immediately and went home. She planned to leave Providence first thing in the morning.

  Sometime during the middle of her sleepless night, Lorelei’s conscience began to bother her. Maybe she was partly responsible for sending Nathan over the edge. What if he did something crazy to that poor girl? She knew she should warn her somehow, but Nathan said she was living in Wisconsin. He did mention a brother, Marcus Grey. And she knew her first name, Jillian. She would do right by this woman.

  Lorelei turned and looked back at the grand house one more time. “Good luck, Miss Jillian Grey. I pray he does not find you,” she said before walking away and heading to the train station.

  The sun was filtering into Jillian’s room. She opened her eyes and groaned. Staying in bed longer would have been wonderful, but she knew she had more to do than she could possibly have time for. As she tried to sit up, her muscles ached in protest. Unfortunately, she had come down with the stomach sickness yesterday morning that Brenn had had the day before. She had spent the better part of the day either emptying the contents of her stomach or unmoving in bed. She hadn’t even felt up to comforting the children after they learned of poor Old Decker’s fate.

  Her stomach growled, and with no small effort, Jillian managed to sit up on the edge of the bed, but didn’t move any further. Her head pounded. If she were still living with her parents, she would have crawled back under the covers, but people were counting on her here. She was needed. As it was, Dalton had to miss an entire day of work in the fields to c
are for the children because Aunt Betty was unavailable. Mrs. Collins, another neighbor, had reached the end of her confinement, and Aunt Betty was helping with the birthing. She wasn’t due home until later today at the earliest.

  There was a knock at the door, and Lisa poked her head in for a moment, then quickly backed out, shutting the door. Jillian could hear her scurry back down the hall. She didn’t know what Lisa was up to, but she did know that if the children were already up, it was later than she thought.

  Jillian was just about to attempt standing when she heard another knock. She could hear the girls whispering outside the door. This time Jenny poked her head in and smiled. Jillian smiled back weakly. All at once, Jenny was gone again, but only for a second this time. Lisa pushed the door open and held it while Jenny carried a breakfast tray inside the room.

  “Mornin’, Ma,” Jenny said shyly.

  “Mornin’, Ma,” Lisa echoed.

  “Pa said we should bring you some breakfast when you woke up, ’cause you’d be real hungry.” Jenny walked over and stood in front of her with the tray.

  “And you’re awake now.” Lisa noted and walked over to stand beside the bed.

  Jillian smiled down at her. “Yes, I’m awake.”

  “You need to sit back so I can put the tray on your lap so you can eat your breakfast in bed.” Jenny informed her.

  “Oh, is that what I’m supposed to do?” Jillian quizzed her with a smile.

  “Uh-huh,” Lisa answered this time. “That’s the way we always do it ’round here when we is sick.”

  “When we are sick,” Jillian corrected.