The Courting of Widow Shaw

by Charlene Sands

  But he’d come to town earlier today to make some purchases for his ranch and found out that Sheriff Brimley and his deputies were on the lookout for Trudy Tremaine’s murderer. The sheriff and his men planned on visiting all the brothels nearby to investigate.

  And if the sheriff decided he needed to search the rooms at Rainbow House, Steven couldn’t stop him.

  “Evening, Sheriff,” Steven said matter-of-factly. “What brings you to the house tonight?” He walked over to the bar and poured whiskey into two glasses.

  “Investigating a murder. Another murder. Still haven’t found out a dang thing regarding the whereabouts of Mrs. Shaw. She sort of disappeared, mysteriously.”

  Steven nodded and handed the sheriff the drink. They spoke in one corner of the room, while the women all floated about entertaining their customers. Every so often, one of them would catch Steven’s eye. Business as usual, he told them with a quick look. No need to worry. He couldn’t afford to have any of the ladies behave suspiciously.

  “Thanks,” Brimley said, lifting his glass. “I sorta wondered if Lorene knew anything about the girl. Seems to me, she left town about the time of Boone Shaw’s death.”

  Shocked, Steven’s gut clenched. “You don’t think my mother had anything to do with it, do you?”

  The sheriff sipped his whiskey. “Well now, I don’t rightly know what to think. We’ve had two murders in Storey County this month, and both seem to relate back to the whorehouses.”

  “How so?”

  “You got a woman missing who was hell-bent on shutting them down. And you got a prostitute dead on the back streets.”

  “Yes, and neither had anything to do with Rainbow House.”

  “Well, Mrs. Shaw wasn’t exactly a disinterested party. Seems she aimed most of her wrath at Rainbow House. Makes me think that maybe someone wanted to shut her up.”

  “You know Lorene. Glory Shaw is the last person my mother would want to see hurt, regardless of her attempts to shut this place down.”

  “Glory, huh?”

  Steven’s slip of the tongue had the sheriff eyeing him warily. He’d have to be more careful.

  “Don’t most folks call her Gloria?”

  Steven shrugged, sipping his drink. “Hell, I don’t know. I don’t even know the woman.”

  “Well, I’m going to have to check this place out. I want to question the girls here about Trudy. Who knows, maybe her killer is right here in this room tonight.”

  The sheriff made a quick cursory glance around, then focused his attention on him again. “How’s the new place coming? What’s the ranch called again?”

  “I haven’t named it yet. It’s nearly done. Working hard to finish up. Gonna get my horses soon.”

  “That’s why I’m surprised you’ve been spending so much time here, with Lorene gone and all. One of my deputies says he sees you coming into town late at night.” There was no mistaking the suspicion laced in his tone or the doubt in his eyes.

  Emmie drifted by their corner of the room with perfect timing. She was the same height as Glory and had the same light coloring. Emmie had even loaned her one of her signature blue gowns. If anyone had seen Steven with a woman, he’d make sure they’d think it was Emmie.

  “Come here, honey,” Steven said, grabbing Emmie’s hand. She flowed into him without hesitation. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up close and tight. Kissing her throat and running his hand just under her breast, he glanced at the sheriff. “The sheriff’s been wondering why I come around so much while Lorene’s gone. You want me to tell him?”

  Emmie caught on immediately and played her part well. “Oh, dear. Sheriff, you won’t tell Lorene, will you? I mean, she’d be furious if she found out about Steven and me. She might even send me away from here. Lorene’s got her strict rules.”

  The sheriff cleared his throat and glanced at Steven, this time with a bit of apology in his eyes, before turning back to Emmie. “Uh, no. Don’t you worry. I won’t tell Lorene about this.”

  “Well, seeing as my mother is coming back in a few days, I might as well make the best of it. You ready to go upstairs, darlin’?”

  Emmie splayed her hand across his chest lovingly. “You bet I am.”

  Steven grinned. “See you around, Roy.”

  He left the sheriff to his task of questioning the clientele and escorted Emmie up to the second floor. He turned to her once they reached her room. “Thanks. You did great,” he said, swamped with relief. “You mind staying up in your room for a few hours? I’ve got to get Glory out of here before the sheriff comes nosing around.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Steven. I’ll keep Buddy company up here. Sorta falling for that sweet little pup, myself. You go on and take care of Glory.”

  Steven kissed Emmie’s cheek, thanking her again, before heading up the last flight of stairs to Glory.

  Gloria didn’t want to answer the soft knock at her door, knowing it was most likely Steven. It was earlier than he usually came for her and though she’d worked herself into a frenzy today, hoping to tire by cleaning, dusting and doing all manner of chores, she simply couldn’t sleep. She lay restless in bed, trying to get her mind to shut down some so she could claim fatigue but in truth, she simply wasn’t tired.

  “Let me in,” Steven demanded quietly.

  Gloria tied the robe tight and walked to the door. “I’m trying to sleep,” she whispered.

  “Sheriff Brimley is downstairs, nosing around,” he whispered back. “So your sleep is most likely going to get disturbed if you don’t open this door now.”

  Gloria opened the door and quickly closed it after Steven rushed in.

  “Sheriff Brimley is here?” Gloria asked, her throat tight.

  “Yeah, he’s here. Claims he’s investigating Trudy’s murder, but he sure had a whole lot of questions about you.”

  Gloria swallowed. There was still a part of her that wanted to turn herself in, to be done with all this hiding and deception. The only thing stopping her entirely was the thought of a tight noose around her neck.

  And the fact that she had no real defense. She couldn’t recall anything from the night Boone had died.

  “What did you tell him?”

  “He’s seen me riding into town every night. It’s getting more dangerous for me to come here. But I think I covered okay.”

  “How?”

  “By pretending I’m coming here for one of the women. Emmie happened to be close at hand and it makes good sense, with my mother out of town, that I’d want to, uh…well, I think Sheriff Brimley got the idea.”

  Gloria swallowed again, wondering about Steven’s real relationship with the women here. Emmie was young and so pretty. Something painful jabbed at her insides, creating turmoil in her heart and mind. “What do we do now?”

  “Well, we can’t stay here. He might decide he needs to examine all the rooms.”

  “Another night ride?” Gloria didn’t want to be alone with Steven again, but if it meant keeping one step ahead of the sheriff, she’d have to submit.

  “No, I have a better idea. Get dressed.”

  Steven opened his armoire and brought out a clean shirt and trousers. He began unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Steven?” she asked, watching in awe as he removed his shirt entirely, exposing a strong chest stretching a thin undershirt to its limit. She glanced at his powerful arms and the breath just whooshed out of her.

  “Glory, we don’t have much time. You’d best get your clothes on behind that screen.”

  Gloria grabbed her dress and petticoat off a peg and went behind the screen, her mind spinning. “Where are you taking me?”

  “We’re going to the opera house.”

  “Are you sure nobody will know it’s me?” Gloria whispered as Steven ushered her into the back door of the opera house. They’d deliberately arrived late so that all the other patrons would be seated already. Glory kept her head down, her hood covering up her blond hair.

  “I t
hink I fixed that with the sheriff. If anyone reports back to him, he’ll think I’m with Emmie,” Steven said, keeping his voice low. “And we have a special private box upstairs.”

  “What kind of special box?”

  “It’s a place where our ladies go with their escorts.” He shuffled her up a staircase and they moved briskly down the hallway of the upper balcony floor. Entering the curtained box, Gloria found four seats facing the stage, two in front and two directly behind them. She had to look down considerably and at an angle, but the view was remarkable.

  Steven made quick work of securing the curtains to the back and in front, he parted the curtains only partway.

  He offered her one of the seats in the back. “If we sit here, no one will be able to see us, but you’ll still have a good view of the stage.”

  “I don’t understand. Why are we here?”

  Gloria glanced around, seeing lanterns light the stage. All else was dark.

  “I told you. Sheriff Brimley was nosing around the house. And I’d been spotted too often coming and going out of town. I couldn’t chance taking you out of town again tonight. Staying in town is the safest for us. So sit back and enjoy the show.”

  “Steven, I don’t know if I can.” Gloria fidgeted in her seat, her pulse racing. If Steven was wrong about this, she’d be the one with a noose around her neck.

  He took hold of her hand and squeezed gently. “Trust me. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

  He reassured her with a solid look, but Gloria still had doubts. This was the first time she was out in public, if one could call it that, since before Boone was killed. “What if someone comes in here?”

  Steven grinned. “They won’t.”

  Again, Gloria had doubts, even when Steven seemed so sure. “How can you be so certain?”

  Steven leaned over and whispered in her ear, his breath warm and inviting. “Because they know what goes on up here.”

  Gloria’s shoulders went stiff. She blinked and turned to find Steven smiling. “What does go on up here?”

  Steven leaned back in his seat and stretched his body out. He’d dressed for the occasion, wearing black trousers, a white linen shirt, and a string tie under a dark suede vest. Gloria had never seen him look so handsome. He actually appeared civilized, except of course, for the gun he toted on his hip, no matter what. She should be grateful to him for all he’d done to protect her, but bringing her here, where she would be mistaken for a prostitute, even if she were in disguise, didn’t quite set well.

  “The ladies entertain men, up here.”

  “Oh!” She gasped and all sorts of images swirled through her head as his meaning came through with clarity. “And how many times have you been entertained here?” The words slipped from her lips before she had the mind to stop them. She didn’t have reason to question Steven. What he did with the “ladies” was his own private affair.

  Steven peered at her with somber honest eyes. “Just this once, Glory.” He leaned over, cupped her head in his hand and brushed a soft kiss to her lips. “Now try to relax.”

  Relax? His kisses made her heart thunder in her chest. But after a time, she did calm down and took note of the performance in progress. Mandrel’s troupe of dancers paraded around on stage in colorful dresses, their wild dances like nothing Gloria had ever seen before. Women lifted their legs up high in the air in unison and others did tumbles that streaked across the width of the floor.

  The opera house was packed solid, some men standing in the aisles and others against the back walls. Miners in need of a little distraction applauded with gusto, the room exploding with hoots and calls when the music stopped. Tied-up sacks of ore were thrown onto the stage, the women grabbing for their share of silver or gold.

  Gloria stretched her neck, peering down in concentration. “It appears the stage is moving.”

  Steven took her hand in his and laughed quietly. “You’ve never been here before?”

  “Oh, why yes, years ago, when Mr. Maguire owned it. Father took me here for a prayer recital one afternoon. But I never noticed the stage bouncing up and down.”

  “One of the things Piper did when he took over the opera house was to put railroad springs underneath the stage,” Steven offered. “That ore weighs heavily. And some of the performances can get kinda…rambunctious.”

  Gloria nodded, thinking she had a better word to describe tonight’s performance. She didn’t bother to voice her thoughts.

  “Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Glory?”

  Gloria had feared coming here. She thought it a risky move on Steven’s part, but she’d placed her faith in him and he’d been true to his word. So far, not a soul had come to disturb them. She felt confident they were hidden successfully up in their private curtained box. And though the performance hadn’t been what she’d expected, this was far better than pining away all alone in her room at Rainbow House. “It’s certainly a different kind of entertainment, Steven. But yes, it’s a nice diversion.”

  Steven seemed satisfied with her answer and when the performance resumed, a female singer came forth. She entertained the house with a variety of tunes and ballads, her voice amazingly clear and beautiful. Gloria sat back in her seat and closed her eyes, absorbing the melodious sound, finding a measure of peace and joy as the lyrics and music resonated in her mind.

  When the performance ended, Steven stood to close the curtains fully. “No sense tempting fate,” he said and soon they were encased in total darkness. “We’ll wait here until everyone’s gone. Might be a while.”

  Gloria stood also, to stretch her legs. She’d been sitting for what seemed like four hours, though it couldn’t possibly have been that long. When she scooted over a bit, she nearly toppled over one of the chairs. “Oh, mercy!”

  Steven grabbed her instantly, his hands latching onto her arms to steady her. “You okay?”

  “I just can’t see a thing in here,” she whispered quietly.

  “Come stand with me against the side wall.”

  Steven took her hand and guided her over to the wall. The opera house had begun to quiet down as the patrons exited the theater. But all Gloria heard was the sound of Steven’s breathing, his warmth cocooning her with his nearness, and his fresh soapy scent permeating the very air she took in.

  “How long do we have to wait here?” she asked, quite breathless now.

  “We’ll be the very last ones to leave, Glory. Are you impatient?”

  Steven shifted his body. He faced her and all she could see was the dark earthy brown of his eyes. “I-impatient, uh, no. I’m not impatient.”

  “Good,” he whispered, “because we can’t take any chances with your safety.”

  He stroked his finger across her cheek with utmost tenderness. His touch created shivers that spiraled down her spine. At times, Gloria forgot why Steven was doing this. She forgot that he felt obligated to help her. At times, she forgot that Steven Harding wasn’t the man for her. “Steven,” she said, the soft warning falling from her lips.

  “Are you scared, Glory?”

  Her pulse sped up as she gazed into his eyes. “Very.”

  “Of me?”

  Yes, she feared him, but not because he wore a gun. And not because he made her feel things way down to her toes. She feared him because irrationally she blamed him partly for her father’s death. Gloria couldn’t draw the line of distinction. He was a Harding— Lorene Harding’s son. “Yes, of you.”

  Steven bent his head and brushed a kiss to her lips. “I’d never hurt you, Glory. Don’t fear me,” he said quietly, taking her into his arms. Her dress rustled against his thighs, his solid strength reassuring her, while the wild beating of her heart put every sort of doubt in her head.

  “You’re beautiful.” He kissed her again and all of her well-thought-out resistance vanished. Heat shot through her like a hot summer wind. She had no will of her own when she was in Steven’s arms. She returned his kiss and he pressed her closer, their bodies touching intim
ately.

  In a bold move, Steven leaned heavily against the wall and brought her up, cupping her bottom and gently tugging her into him. There was no mistaking his desire as he kissed her urgently. His velvet hands brought her pleasure as she gave him free rein of her body.

  Her cape fell from her shoulders, and Steven was there, with his palms smoothing over her skin and his lips planting thrilling kisses on her throat.

  A loud crashing noise from down below startled her, bringing her out of this pleasurable fantasy. It was just a theater worker closing down the stage area, she presumed, but the sound helped put clarity on the interlude. “Steven, don’t.” She shoved at him delicately, her clouded mind clearing. “I’m not a trollop to dally with.”

  Her pronouncement surprised him. He blew out a sharp breath.

  “You brought me up here and treat me no better than a whore. Was that your intent? To see what it’s like to seduce a woman up in this private box?”

  The muscles in his arms tensed before they dropped to his side. With a dark heated gleam in his eyes, he answered. “No.”

  She wanted to believe him. “Then why?”

  He moved away from her. She watched him steal a peek out of the curtains, before turning back to her. “Maybe I don’t know how to stay away.”

  “But you must. Certainly you know there’s no future for us.”

  He snorted, a graceless sound. “I know that for a fact, Glory.”

  Gloria heard the regret in his voice and wondered at her own bouts of regret. “So, you’ll treat me with respect from now on?”

  Steven strode briskly forward. “Dammit, Glory,” he hissed. “I have nothing but respect for you. Don’t confuse desire with respect. If anything, I’ve put you high above all women.”

  “You think I killed my husband.”

  “I—” he began then hesitated. “That man de-served to die.”

  “No one should die like that.”

  “Glory, it doesn’t matter to me whether you killed your husband or not.”

  “It matters to me,” she said. She didn’t want to think of herself as a brazen woman. And she surely didn’t want to think of herself as a murderer. Two things she’d been certain Steven thought about her just minutes ago.