The Courting of Widow Shaw

by Charlene Sands

  Lorene had thought of everything, from a variety of sewing needles and matching threads to buttons and yards of thin lace. Lorene had even included a copy of Harper’s Bazaar that showed patterns that Glory could reproduce and enlarge to fit her size.

  Glory hummed a happy tune while cutting out the pattern and afterward she took each and every stitch to heart, making sure they were tidy and even. She had always prided herself on her sewing talents. Today, her mood couldn’t be more lighthearted, so when Steven walked into the parlor, she smiled up at him with a big grin.

  “What’s got you in such a happy mood?” he asked, removing his hat from his head.

  “I think I’m just happy to be doing something.” She continued to make one straight, even stitch after another, keeping focused on the shoulder seams of her newest creation.

  “I saw the curtains you made for the kitchen.”

  She looked up from her stitching, wondering if Steven liked them. She couldn’t tell from his tone.

  “Pretty. I never thought I’d…that is, I never thought the room could look so nice.”

  “They do brighten the kitchen, don’t they?”

  He nodded slowly, then ran a hand through his hair. It was early in the day. She hadn’t expected him for dinner until nearly sundown and from the perplexed look on his face, he hadn’t planned to be here so early, either. “You know how to shoot a gun, Glory?”

  Shocked, she peered at him intently. His question was the last thing she’d expected to hear. She hadn’t been raised to uphold violence of any sort. What kind of fool notion spun around in Steven’s head this time? “No, Steven. I don’t know how to shoot a gun.”

  “Well, it’s time you learned.”

  “I don’t want to learn.”

  “Doesn’t matter what you want.”

  Glory blinked back her surprise. What was Steven telling her? Was he ready to cast her out on her own? Or was it something even more urgent? Perhaps he’d heard that she’d been discovered here. Perhaps her days of freedom were numbered. “I’ve lived nearly nineteen years of my life without knowing about guns. I don’t plan to change that now.”

  Steven smirked, wry amusement lifting his upper lip up crookedly. “Nineteen whole years?”

  “Well, almost nineteen, coming next winter.”

  “Glory, don’t fight me on this. I’ve been giving it some thought. It’s necessary.”

  “Why, Steven? Why is it necessary?”

  “Because I’ve got to leave you alone tomorrow for most of the day.”

  “You’ve been gone all day today and I’ve done quite well.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve been here, watching and working. But tomorrow I’ve got to pick up my horses miles from here and I can’t very well take you with me.”

  “You’re getting your horses tomorrow?”

  “They were due to be delivered here, but I can’t chance that, so I thought to intercept them at the Stadler place. I know for a fact that they’ll deliver to the southern ranches first, before coming up here. I figure I can ride hard and get to old man Stadler’s ranch by noon. There’ll be no need for anyone to come up here, then.”

  “How many horses are you getting?”

  “Half a dozen. I’ll add more later on. But for now, it’s a start.”

  Glory continued making her stitches. “Won’t it look a bit suspicious for you to intercept your horses?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll make up an excuse, like I had business that took me right by Stadler’s place and I was anxious to see my new stock. Won’t be a problem as long as I shove the cash in their hands. Money has a way of quieting people’s questions.”

  Glory let out a long weary sigh. None of this could be helped, she supposed. “I’m sorry to be such a disruption in your life.”

  And Glory meant it. Out of his sense of duty, Steven had set his life aside in order to help her. As soon as she could, she’d leave him to work his land, allowing him no more distractions, no more worries.

  Steven stared into her eyes. “Glory, if you don’t want to be a disruption, then let me show you how to handle a gun. I’ll sleep better tonight.”

  “And I won’t sleep at all.”

  “Sure you will. The gun I’ll give you won’t even make a dent under your pillow.”

  “My pillow?” she nearly shrieked. She set down her sewing to regard him. From the determined look on his face, Glory knew he wasn’t jesting.

  “Meet me outside when you’ve finished up what you’re doing.”

  “But dinner…”

  “Will wait. We’re losing daylight, Glory.”

  Steven waited for Glory out back behind the house. When she finally appeared out the back door, a sour look contorted her face. Steven ignored the look, this being too dang important for both of them.

  “Are you sure this—”

  “It’s got to be done, Glory,” Steven insisted. “Here, get used to holding this.” He set a Remington .44 caliber army pistol in her hand. “It’s small enough to hold easily and not all that heavy.”

  Glory peered at the gun as though it was plagued with disease. She took in a full breath, making her chest push out the lace on her gown. His gaze automatically riveted to the soft swells of her breasts. Damn, he’d sure be glad once she made herself that “proper” dress that she’d been hankering to do. Steven had more willpower than most men, he figured, but Glory sure pushed him to his limit at times.

  “It won’t bite, Glory,” he said abruptly.

  Glory blinked her eyes closed. “It reminds me of what happened to my father.”

  Steven covered his hand over hers, the cold gunmetal a dark contrast to Glory’s warm and delicate fingers. He spoke softly now. “Guns can save lives, too, honey. I’m hoping you’ll never have call to know that. I’m hoping you’ll never have to use it—”

  Her eyes flashed open. “I can’t imagine using this on anyone,” she breathed out passionately.

  They stared at each other for long moments and the truth hit Steven hard, like a blow right between the eyes. He knew now, deep down in his gut, right then and there that Gloria Mae Shaw had not taken a knife to her husband. He knew right then and there that she could never have killed Boone Shaw, not even to defend herself. No, she’d never have hacked up a body with such deliberate and cold intent. Never.

  The truth was in her eyes, on her face and in a heart that beat so damn sweetly that Steven had to turn away, the revelation of her innocence causing havoc to his mind.

  If she were innocent, he’d have to prove it.

  Glory deserved her freedom. She deserved a new start on life. She was young and beautiful. She could have all the things a young woman wanted—a happy home and family.

  Steven had an obligation to her. But he had to remain focused on keeping her safe. He took her hand and guided her down a path that went well beyond the ranch house. They walked over a shallow streambed, finding dry spots to step in as the water trickled by. Steven picked up several small granite rocks and once they’d finally reached the clearing he’d remembered, he set those rocks atop a big boulder, Glory’s target. Hell, he’d be happy if the woman learned enough to aim the gun straight, and hitting a target would be something short of a miracle.

  “Okay,” he said, taking several steps back from the makeshift target. “Ready?”

  A small smile lifted her mouth, but there was no joy in her eyes. “As much as I’ll ever be, Steven.”

  “It’s okay, Glory. You’ll probably never have to use it, but if it comes down to you or them, I surely hope you’ll use what you learn today.”

  Glory didn’t respond. She’d resigned herself to this, he assumed, but she certainly didn’t like it.

  He stepped behind her, trying like hell to ignore the scent of wild roses, the press of her backside against his groin and the silky strands of her braid tickling his chin. “Lift the gun and aim it toward the small rocks.”

  She did as she was told, pointing the gun.

  “Ke
ep your hand steady, your arm straight. That’s it. Okay now, squeeze the trigger.”

  Glory’s body flinched. She shuddered and turned to him, her eyes locking with his.

  “There’re no bullets in the gun, Glory.”

  She relaxed, her knees nearly buckling. She turned back around and aimed the gun. Bravely, she squeezed the trigger.

  “That’s good. Probably would’ve hit that shrub, way over there,” he said, pointing to the brush ten feet off the target.

  Glory whirled around and he grinned. “Just kiddin’. You did real good.”

  Glory smiled now, loosening up. “Really?”

  “Really, you’ve got good form.”

  “Maybe because I’m aiming at rocks. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to point a gun at a person.”

  “I’m hoping you won’t have to.”

  “I’m praying I won’t have to.”

  “That’s good, too. Try it a few more times, then I’ll show you how to load the gun with ammunition. You need to get the feel of shooting with bullets. It’s a whole different sensation.”

  “Hmm, I can imagine.”

  Steven smiled and helped her point and aim the gun, giving her directions, finding that Glory was a good pupil. She was quick and smart and learned easily, even when she didn’t particularly like the subject.

  “You’ve got to respect the gun, that’s most important. Respect, not fear it. Fear will only get you hurt.”

  Glory slumped her shoulders when their first lesson was over. “You don’t expect me to sleep with this, do you?”

  He nodded. “Under your pillow.”

  “Why? When you’re in the house, only steps away?”

  He chuckled and glanced away briefly. “Ah, Glory.” Then peering into her innocent eyes, he captured her attention. “Exactly.”

  A rosy blush crept up her cheek. “Oh.”

  Steven had promised her she had nothing to fear from him, but his teasing hadn’t gone as expected. She’d taken him at his word, then and now. Hell, at times, Glory simply caused a ruckus in his mind, but she was too damn beautiful for his own good. And maybe part of what he’d said was true. Maybe she did need protecting from him. He’d never take her forcefully, but loving Glory meant seducing her. And there were times when Steven thought that taking her to his bed and making tender love to her would be worth the risk to both of their souls. “Just teasing, Glory. I’m trying to put a smile on that sour puss of yours.”

  She tapped her foot like a disgruntled schoolmarm and the look she cast him was no less intimidating, making him surely glad he hadn’t loaded the gun she toted. “Steven Harding, you’re unmerciful.”

  “I know,” he said without apology. “I just want you to understand how important this is. You might need to protect yourself. Knowing how to shoot will give you confidence. You won’t feel as vulnerable if you’re faced with tough decisions.”

  She peered at the gun in her hand. “You mean like whether or not I should shoot?”

  “You might have to make a quick decision. Feeling confident with the gun will go a long way in saving yourself.”

  She directed her gaze at him squarely. “I understand that in my head. I just don’t know if when the time comes, I can do it.”

  “I think you can.”

  She smiled sadly. “Because you believe I killed Boone.”

  Steven frowned, feeling a tug at all the strings that tied up his heart. It would be better for her think that, of course. If she believed he thought her capable of murder, it would be just one more wedge to distance her, but Steven couldn’t lie to her, not even if it meant her softening to him. Not even if it meant he’d have to muster every shred of willpower he had, to keep that distance in place and permanent. “I know you didn’t kill Boone, Glory. I know it in my gut. But I also believe you’re a survivor and strong enough to do what’s necessary when the time comes. I guess you could say I have faith in you.”

  Eyes downcast, Glory spoke quietly, the gun she held pulling her arm down to her side. “You have faith, when I seem to question all of mine.” When she looked up, her eyes were wide, almost desperate and searching his. “Sometimes I don’t know who I am any more.”

  Steven resisted every urge he had to take her into his arms and comfort her. With boots planted, he inhaled, unable to reveal to her that he knew exactly who she was. She was a wonderfully strong and brave woman. She was young, intelligent and so pretty it nearly hurt to look at her.

  She’d been dealt a losing hand one year ago, first with the loss of her father and then in a marriage that should never have taken place. She’d lost all of her belongings, her house had burned to the ground, she’d been left for dead, then been brought to the one place she’d never wanted to step foot in, Rainbow House. Yet, she’d survived it all courageously. She hadn’t fallen apart as others might have. She hadn’t wept long sorrowful tears. In fact, she’d had enough gumption left yet to give the “ladies” at the house a bad time of it. Then when she’d been needed, she’d set aside her own code of morality to save Merry.

  Steven admired her even more now than ever before. But he couldn’t tell her, for revealing all would surely seal his fate. If he spoke of these things, she’d know that she’d become much more than an obligation to him. She’d become something that he wouldn’t dare name. He’d find her husband’s killer and then set her free.

  It was the only way.

  “You’re Gloria Mae Shaw, the same woman you’ve always been, except that right at the moment, you’re going to learn how to shoot an Army revolver using real bullets. Ready?”

  She nodded slowly, none too eager for her second bout of lessons.

  Steven kept his focus. No more lingering thoughts of making love to Glory. No more admissions to all of her endearing qualities. He began his next set of instructions, “Okay, the revolver holds five bullets in the chamber. This is how you load it…”

  Glory answered the knock to her door in the first few minutes before dawn erupted with color on the horizon. Half asleep, she peered at Steven.

  “Morning,” he said cheerfully, then grinned at her tousled hair and wrinkled robe criss-crossed haphazardly over her chest.

  She grunted some sort of reply, still trying to adjust her focus.

  “I’m heading out. Just wanted to remind you to stay put inside the house all day. Don’t go out and if you see someone approach, don’t hesitate—”

  “To get the gun. I know, Steven,” she said quite grumpily.

  “You know how to use it now and I expect you to be on your guard.”

  She nodded.

  “Did you put it under your pillow last night, like we talked about?”

  Glory shifted her attention, concentrating on the lantern hanging on the hallway wall, just over Steven’s shoulder.

  Steven’s breath whooshed out noisily. “Okay then, where did you hide the gun?”

  Glory began waking in stages, and once fully aware of Steven’s badgering, she hoisted her chin and became indignant. Mercy, the man deserved it, waking her from much-needed sleep. Truth be told, she hadn’t had many restful nights since the day her father had died. “It’s in a safe enough place.”

  “Glory.”

  When she didn’t respond to the warning in his voice, he stepped inside the room. “Where is it?”

  She watched him shuffle around the room, tossing her covers, lifting a table, peeking behind her underclothes set on a peg on the wall.

  “I don’t have time for this, dammit.”

  “Don’t swear, Steven. It’s tucked away inside a drawer in the armoire.” She pointed across the room to a heavy dark walnut piece decorated with an inlaid gilded pattern, the finest piece of furniture in the whole house.

  Steven strode over and opened all the drawers, finding at last the Army revolver he’d given her yesterday. “It’s too far away to do you much good. You won’t have time to go searching when you need it. Look, if you don’t want it under your pillow, then keep it here,” he s
aid, lifting her mattress. “At least it’ll be close enough when you sleep.”

  Glory nodded. “All right.”

  He glanced at her with assessing eyes, another speech seemingly on his lips. He kept that speech to himself, thankfully, and nodded back. “I’ll be home as soon as possible, hopefully before sundown.”

  “With your horses?”

  “If all goes well, I’ll have those corrals filled by nightfall.”

  Glory’s bravado suddenly failed her. All of Steven’s warnings, all of his preparations hit her fully now. For the first time since Boone’s death, she’d be truly alone. It was just for one day, she reminded herself, and to her knowledge no one knew where she was hiding out except for Lorene and the girls at Rainbow House. “I’ll be fine,” she said, keeping the shudder of fear hidden from him. “Have a safe trip.”

  Steven stared into her eyes, then his gaze drifted to her lips and a yearning she’d only just come to recognize in him surfaced completely. He wanted to kiss her goodbye.

  Mercy, Glory wanted that, too.

  But she blamed her bout of sentiment on his constant reminders of the dangers that could befall her. She wanted him only for reassurance, nothing more. A kiss to comfort.

  When he leaned in with a dark gleam in his eyes, Glory braced herself for the onslaught of Steven’s passion.

  His lips brushed her forehead.

  The kiss was over before it had begun.

  With a jingle of spurs and a flash of his duster, Steven was gone.

  Glory watched him from the front window as he mounted Fancy and headed south. She made sure the door was bolted good and tight and at that moment decided that she couldn’t go back to bed, there was far too much to do. She wanted to finish fashioning the dress she’d started yesterday. The blue sapphire silk that she’d worn to death had to go. The way the gown displayed her female frame so openly caused her great discomfort.

  But first Glory had to make curtains for the bedroom. She couldn’t fathom sleeping another night with no covering to the windows. As she’d dressed this morning she realized that she’d be fully exposed to anyone who might amble by in the daylight. She hadn’t given it much thought while Steven was on the property, but it was far different with him gone from sight.