“Glory, Glory,” he called out, taking her higher.
She heard his thrilling plea.
“I’m here, Steven,” she managed as he brought her to the edge.
“Stay with me, sweetheart,” he rasped out in the moments just before they spiraled out of control.
Glory’s heart thumped, her blood pounded, her body exploded as Steven thrust one last time. They met each other at the crest, then slowly both descended downward.
Steven lay on his back once again, taking her with him. He kissed her forehead, her cheek and her lips. “Damn, Glory. That was incredible.”
Glory sighed in his arms. She’d never experienced such tenderness and restraint before. She’d never known how beautiful the joining of two bodies could be. Steven had shown her. He made her feel cherished, giving her something she would never forget. “Oh, Steven, I never knew.”
Steven snorted, but it almost came out as a chuckle. “You may not believe this, but I never knew, either.”
Glory lifted up to stare at him, surprised at his revelation and not sure how to take it. “How can I believe that? You’ve been with women.”
“Not that many, Glory. And not the women from Rainbow House, but women who’d sell their bodies.”
Glory squeaked out a silly notion. “Are you comparing me with them?”
“Sweetheart, there’s no comparison. There never could be. What we shared…well, it’s special. I never knew it could be like that.”
Glory knew a hefty dose of satisfaction and pride. That Steven hadn’t experienced anything like their lovemaking before meant a great deal. The wonder of their joining surprised her, now even more so.
She laid her head on Steven’s shoulder, tucked safely in the arms of her gentle savior.
The man who’d once been her enemy.
Chapter Sixteen
“Steven, you’ve got cherry cobbler on your chin.”
“Kiss it off me, sweetheart,” Steven said, coming to sit on Glory’s bed. After they’d returned to the house, he made sure Glory got some rest, insisting he wasn’t hungry for supper.
He had an appetite, though…for Glory. She was the only one who could ease his hunger tonight.
She lifted up to lick the cobbler off his face and then kiss him. Steven’s heart pumped hard and fast. He kissed her back soundly then looked her over. “Did you rest?”
She answered with a slow nod and a sweet smile. “I did.”
“That’s good. I brought you cherry cobbler. It’s supper.”
She chuckled. “It’s hardly supper, Steven.”
“It’s all I need. Are you very hungry?”
She shook her head. “No, not really. Cobbler is fine.”
Steven took up the plate he’d set on the bedside table. He broke off a piece and fed it to her.
She grinned, eyes twinkling, and swallowed down the food. “Not a bad cherry cobbler,” she commended herself. “Mattie’s recipe.”
“Remind me to thank Mattie,” Steven said, offering her another piece and deliberately allowing a few chunks to fall onto her chest.
He kissed her lips then lowered his mouth to lick the cherry morsels from the material of her dress. “Whoops, wouldn’t want to stain this new dress of yours,” he said, lowering her down upon the bed. He unfastened a button, then another and another, until Glory’s breasts nearly popped out.
“Steven,” she whispered, unable to mask the sexy urgency in her voice. “What are you doing?”
Steven smeared a bit of cherry juice just above her nipples and stroked his tongue over, licking it off. “Mmmm, having dessert.”
“Ohhh,” she sighed, the tips of her breasts extending like twin peaks.
He couldn’t contain his smile. His lips lifted up crookedly. “Want some more?”
“Oh, yes,” she answered, her blue eyes growing to their darkest hue.
Steven removed his shirt, tossing it without care. He lay down next to her and handed her the plate. She rose above him slightly, feeding him a piece. He chewed and swallowed, then Glory bent down to lick off the remnants from his mouth.
She didn’t know how enticing she looked, leaning over him, her dress parted down the middle, almost falling from her shoulders. She destroyed his willpower. He had no self-control left. He kissed her desperately, his lips claiming hers with soul-searing potency. He drove his tongue into her mouth, tasting the sweet cherry, filling his nostrils with the pungent aroma of roses.
And when she spread a line of cobbler across his chest then bent to lick from his chest, a deep guttural groan escaped. His manhood strained against the confines of his pants. He groaned again, uncomfortable with need, the agony of desire threatening to do him in.
“Are you all right?” Glory asked, lifting up to peer into his eyes.
He could only be honest with her. His brain couldn’t begin to conjure a lie in his state anyway. “Once I’m inside you, I’ll be fine, sweetheart.”
Through the dim lantern light Steven witnessed Glory’s deep rosy-hued blush. Yet, as she looked into his eyes, her hands went to his pants. Steven sucked in a breath and helped her remove them.
Then to his fascination, Glory undid the remaining buttons on her dress. She discarded it easily, exposing herself fully to him. Stunned by her beauty, Steven simply stared.
Then after a moment, he braced her hips, helping her mount him. “I’ll take only what you have to give, Glory.”
Glory understood and she began to ride him, slowly, her body undulating, each movement giving to him all that she had to offer. She made a startling picture, one that he’d forge into his memory forever, as her body swayed, her breasts bounced slightly and her hair cascaded down her back. Steven knew, from the look on her face and the bold way she moved that he’d given her something she’d never had before.
He’d given her control.
She stayed with him for long captivating minutes until Steven could barely contain his own lust, then finally, she shuddered wildly, a fiery fall that enveloped him and he too gained release.
She fell onto the bed next to him, wordless.
He wrapped an arm around her, planting tiny kisses along her throat as he held on to her tight. He’d sleep with her tonight, maybe he’d make love to her once more, but by morning’s light, he’d have to see about proving her innocence. She deserved to be free of this prison. She deserved to make her own choices in life. Steven had good instincts. He believed he knew how he could help her now.
He only hoped that he had the courage to let her go.
As she slept in his arms, Steven thought back to the bath she’d given him, then of the silly game they’d played with her fruit concoction. He spoke into her hair, softly, knowing she slept, “You’ve ruined me for cherry cobbler.”
And he knew that once Glory was gone, he’d never be able to take a bite of his favorite dessert again.
Glory bustled about the kitchen, brewing coffee, making biscuits and frying eggs. She’d gotten up just as the dawn welcomed the day, but Steven had already left their bed. She’d been disappointed at first, feeling abandoned, needing the security of his arms and body around her, but then she realized that today was just like any other.
Steven had work to do. He had a ranch to run. He had a life, separate and apart from hers. She had no claim on him despite the wonderful way they’d spent the evening and midnight hours making love. She had no future to call her own, not that she’d hoped for one with Steven.
She’d held on to her bitter hostility for so long that she didn’t know her own mind any longer, much less know what was in her heart. She’d made one too many mistakes in the past, and it had almost cost her her life. No, she couldn’t possibly hope for any kind of a future with Steven Harding.
She couldn’t call him the enemy and he was certainly more than a friend, but Glory had no way to name their relationship. She had no way to define what she and Steven meant to each other.
He’d shown her a tenderness she didn’t know existed.
He’d made her feel cherished and treasured. He told her with unspoken words and subtle moves that a man could be gentle and still be deemed virile and strong. He’d proven that compassion when mixed with male sensuality could be a beautiful thing.
Glory smiled, remembering the different and inventive ways Steven had made her feel wonderful last night. The glow of her thoughts must have been apparent on her face, because Steven walked into the kitchen and smiled with knowing, intelligent eyes.
“Daydreaming?” he asked.
Glory turned toward the fry-pan and lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.”
He came to stand behind her and whispered near her ear, “You were thinking about last night.”
She didn’t comment.
“You were thinking about me.”
The refusal was on her lips, but Steven didn’t allow it. He spun her around and kissed her deeply, drinking from her lips. “Can’t say as I blame you. I can barely concentrate on my work, thinking about you.”
Glory slipped out of his embrace, pretending to keep busy cooking up the eggs. She had such mixed, confused feelings about Steven and her predicament. His nearness only added to her perplexity and when he kissed her, all good sense seemed to vanish. Glory had to find a way to muddle through the distressing thoughts threatening to undermine her composure.
“Eggs are ready,” she said, ignoring Steven’s stare. Though her back was turned from him, she knew sure as the sun rose up this morning that Steven’s dark eyes bore a hole straight through her.
He let out a long lingering sigh and took up a plate, filling it with biscuits and eggs. Glory brought the coffeepot over and filled his mug.
She waited for him to sit down at the table, before taking a seat. When she thought he’d pursue the subject of their lovemaking, he surprised her, throwing her completely off guard.
“I need to know about Ned Shaw’s claim.”
Glory blinked and took a moment to formulate her answer, unsure what Steven had on his mind. “As I told you once before, it hadn’t worked out as he hoped. His claim was as fruitless as Boone’s. Ned ran up tremendous gambling debts and came to Boone for help.”
“Was he angry that Boone didn’t give him money?”
Glory searched her mind, thinking back. “He was at first, but Boone assured him we didn’t have any money to lend. It was the truth. He’d barely gotten enough specks out of his claim to keep us fed. And as the weeks went by, Boone mined his claim less and less, feeling utterly hopeless.”
“But Boone hadn’t finished mining his claim. According to the claims office, each parcel is three hundred feet long including all the land and offshoots east and west of it. That’s a lot for one man to mine, especially if his heart isn’t in it.”
“Boone never said. I just assumed that to be true, because he’d pretty much given up.”
“Did you know that Boone’s claim was in your name, too?”
Glory nodded. “When we first married, I had some money. Boone used it to buy equipment and he said we’d be equal partners. Later, I realized it was just another way for Boone to charm me.”
Steven grunted, his eyes flashing anger. “Right out of your money.”
“I made a mistake with Boone,” Glory said unable to keep the indignation out of her tone. “I shouldn’t have married him. I shouldn’t have let him charm me. I know that now.” She squared him a look and spoke as plainly as she knew how. “I don’t plan on making any more mistakes.”
Steven’s chair squeaked against the floor when he stood abruptly. “Last night wasn’t a mistake, Glory.”
Glory stood then too and spoke from her heart. “Maybe not for you,” she said quietly.
A tick worked at Steven’s jaw. His gaze pierced her with heat. “Not for you either, dammit. It wasn’t a sin. You have nothing to be sorry for, Glory.”
“I’m not sorry, Steven.” Goodness, she’d never be sorry for the thrilling yet tender way Steven had taken her last night. She’d never be sorry to have experienced such sweet loving.
“Then what’s eating at you?”
“I gave myself to you willingly last night and I take full responsibility, but because of that… I might be with child.”
His expression softened as if he pictured a little babe in his mind. “That wouldn’t be a mistake, Glory. It’d be a gift.”
“No, a child out of wedlock wouldn’t be a gift at all.”
“Out of wedlock?” He appeared surprised, his eyes widening as though she’d said something unfathomable. “Hell, we’d get married.”
Glory shook her head, though pleasing thoughts of living here with Steven filtered into her mind with grudging clarity. She could almost envision it, but there were too many forces working against them. “That would be a mistake.”
Steven’s jaw tightened and a flash of color lit his dark eyes. “Because of who I am?” he asked, his voice edgy, impatient. “You wouldn’t want to give your child my name?”
Glory thought on that for only a second. “No, Steven, I might have believed that once, but that’s not the real reason. It’s because of who I am.”
“Hell, Glory. What’s that mean?”
Glory tried to put into words how she’d been feeling. She finally came to understand what had been missing in her life. “I’ve made one mistake after another. Even before my father died, I think I went along with everything that everyone else wanted, without giving much thought to what was really important to me.”
“You made a valiant effort to shut down the brothels.”
Glory waved that off. “I tried and at the time, I thought my efforts might have some impact. I was a fool to think it. I have a better understanding now of how things are. I’ll never condone the whorehouses, Steven. I couldn’t possibly, but I better understand the need for them to exist.”
“And the girls?”
“Yes, I see them a little differently now.”
“And my mother?”
Glory closed her eyes. She hadn’t the faith Jonathan Caldwell had. She hadn’t the forgiveness. It was as if the circumstances of her father’s death held her hostage. She was a prisoner to images of her father’s bloody body lying on the cold ground in the center of town. And her captor—those thoughts wouldn’t let her go.
She gazed into Steven’s eyes, hoping to make him understand. “I have little forgiveness in my heart, Steven.”
He studied her for a moment.
“I’m sorry.”
He pursed his lips, drew in a breath and finally asked, “So what do you want, Glory?”
She noted his need to truly understand, although his expression wasn’t too accommodating.
“I almost ruined my life once. I need time. I need to think things through better. I can’t make any more bad decisions.”
She couldn’t jump into a marriage with another man, not unless she was absolutely certain it was the right thing to do. Her life had almost been destroyed once already. And Steven, well, he was Lorene Harding’s son, after all. She didn’t know how, if or when she’d ever get past that.
Glory looked into Steven’s somber face, his eyes dark and foreboding. She knew she had unintentionally hurt him. She’d never wanted that. He’d been wonderful to her, taking her in, nursing her back to health and sheltering her the best way he knew how. Searching deep into her heart, she knew Steven had become an important part of her life. She had strong, urgent feelings for him. The sight of him entering the kitchen just moments ago had made her flutter in the most pleasing way.
Had she fallen in love with him?
How could she be sure? She had thought she loved Boone once. She wondered if what she felt for Steven had more to do with the gratitude she felt toward him than any true and permanent stirrings of the heart.
She offered him an explanation, perhaps a consolation, something they both could understand. “I’m a fugitive, most likely going to prison or worse one day, so there’s no point discussing any of this.”
Steven jammed his hat on his
head. He stared at her for a long time, his stance rigid. “You’re not going to prison. I’m going to see to that today. You just sit tight, keep the gun close and I’ll try to get back before midnight.”
Alarm registered quickly. Steven’s leaving sparked fear in her heart. “Where are you going?”
With a sharp, determined, almost cold glint in his eyes, he responded, “I’m planning to prove your innocence. I’ve got a good idea what happened to Boone. You’ll have your freedom soon enough.”
He strode fiercely toward the kitchen door, then stopped, lowered his head and turned. He came right up to her, kissed her long and deep on the lips and gazed into her eyes. “You’ll be free to leave here and start your life over.”
Dumbfounded, Glory watched him leave, his spurs jingling as loudly as her befuddled mind.
Steven sat hidden behind a small cluster of rocks, watching and waiting, noting half a dozen miners working their claims along the rushing streambed that welcomed runoff from Mount Davidson. This unpredictable waterway had been the source of many placer miners’ wealth, whether by method of panning or use of the wooden rocking sluice to locate the buried ore and, in Boone’s case, the cause of his early demise.
As the sunlight began to fade many of the prospectors took up their equipment, ready to call it a day. Interestingly enough, as the hours passed, Steven noted there’d been no sign of Ned Shaw. He’d checked earlier at Ned’s claim, located half a mile north, and now he surveyed the strip of land that Boone Shaw owned.
This might have been another of the days Ned Shaw spent gambling, which Steven surmised would make his waiting here a complete waste of time. But Steven’s gut told him to hold on, or had it been his heart doing the talking?
He’d bared his soul to Glory this morning, only to have her meet him with a stunned expression. He’d offered her marriage should she be with child and she’d neatly refused, declaring it would only compound another mistake.
None of it would have been a mistake in his estimation. But Glory clearly didn’t see it that way. He knew that he had to clear Glory’s name, for both of their sakes. She needed her freedom. She needed to resume her life or rather, make a new life for herself, one that surely didn’t include him.
The Courting of Widow Shaw Page 20