The Courting of Widow Shaw

by Charlene Sands

  He had his ranch. He had the prospect of a good future. Up until the night he’d spotted her lying nearly dead, engulfed in flames, he’d never wanted anything more. Glory had given him a taste of what life might be like, sharing a home and chores, working together then falling into bed, holding onto each other through the night. He’d shown her tenderness, she’d shown him passion. But it hadn’t been real. They’d simply been biding time, until Glory had to leave.

  A roving reflection off the water brought his head up. He peered out, over the rocks and heard a sound off in the distance. Straining his eyes to catch a glimpse, he witnessed lantern light and what appeared to be a man, working the claim— Boone Shaw’s claim. He couldn’t make out the man’s features, but Steven knew without a doubt the man was Ned Shaw.

  All the pieces of the puzzle fit now.

  Boone hadn’t been working his claim effectively, too despondent and impatient to see it through, but his brother must have secretly found the gold they’d both coveted. Boone’s stake held riches that far outweighed anything he might have imagined, but he’d been lazy and too discouraged to find what had been nearly right under his nose. Ned must have seen this as his one and only chance for wealth, but he had to deal with the problem of getting rid of Boone and Glory in order to gain the riches.

  He’d set Glory up as the murderess, planting a knife in her hands and hoping that the fire would muddle up whatever evidence he’d left behind.

  He hadn’t counted on Glory surviving the fire, but he’d seen to it that she’d been considered a suspect, blaming her for Boone’s death, removing himself from suspicion altogether. According to the girls at Rainbow House, Ned had surely painted himself the grieving brother.

  While at the claims office, Steven had learned that once a miner abandoned his claim, the stake would be up for grabs within weeks. It was all legal and binding. But Ned couldn’t afford to wait. He had heavy gambling debts that needed paying straightaway. He’d been desperate and once he’d found Boone’s claim to be a rich one, he’d had to work secretly through the night to extract the ore. He’d been counting on the fact that Boone made it known his claim was a borrasca, a failure. Wouldn’t be likely any miners would jump his claim in the near future, giving Ned a chance to mine out all the ore.

  Steven dipped his head and sat back, contemplating.

  He’d caught Ned in the act, but unless he got the sheriff out here to witness Ned’s deceit, it would be one man’s word against another’s. He hated to leave the scene, but he had no other choice.

  Steven rose slowly, drew his gun and bent down, making his way through the dry brush. He headed toward where he’d reined in Black Cloud. The horse snorted, a loud gush of air that echoed in the quiet canyon. “Shhh, boy,” Steven whispered, coming upon his nervous steed.

  The stallion pranced, clearly agitated, stomping his hooves into the ground and Steven recoiled, thinking he should have brought Fancy instead, loyalty winning out against speed.

  But that was the last notion he’d had, before a thump on his head obliterated all thoughts.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Steven’s head ached like the devil. The cutting pain pounded his scalp like a hatchet. He opened his eyes slowly, wincing at the thin ray of light that beckoned his attention. With narrowed eyes, he glanced around. He was tied up with his hands bound behind his back and his ankles tied together. He found himself leaning askew against the wall of an abandoned mine as if he’d been tossed down that way. The cold dank interior didn’t rattle him, nor did the fact that his hands and feet were bound. But the rats, wandering around like chickens with their heads chopped off, now that was a different matter. Skittish rats and creaks and moans from within a mine meant trouble. Cave-in trouble.

  “Won’t be long now.”

  He heard the voice from around a bend in the hollowed-out mineshaft. Then Ned Shaw came out of the shadows holding a lantern.

  Steven glared at him. “What won’t be long?” Although Steven sort of figured out already what Shaw had in mind.

  “I’ve triggered the mine.” Shaw grinned, his eyes dark with anticipation. “Little fuses that won’t make much noise, but enough to collapse these walls. No one will ever find you.”

  Shaw crouched down to Steven’s level and narrowed him a look. “You’ve had her all along, haven’t you?”

  Steven turned his head, unwilling to give Shaw any information.

  “Won’t do any good to deny it. You must’ve found her that night. It’s the only thing that makes sense. You’d have no call to come nosing around here otherwise. She would have died in the fire, and everyone would have blamed her for Boone’s death. I made it look good, beating her like that, making it appear that she’d been defending herself.”

  Steven whipped his head around. “You! You did that to her?”

  Shaw grimaced, shaking his head. “Didn’t want to. Sorta wanted her for myself, but she put up a fight. The lady refused to cooperate. What choice did I have?”

  Steven spit out his words. “You damn bastard. You killed your brother and beat a defenseless woman.” He struggled with the ties behind his back, willing his hands to come free so that he could crush Ned Shaw into pulp.

  Shaw let his accusation go unanswered. When he lifted up to full height, he scratched his head. “What I couldn’t figure is why she never came forth? She could’ve pointed her finger at me and been done with it.”

  Steven pursed his lips, refusing to shed any light on the situation. If only Glory’s memory had returned before this, she’d have recalled everything and Shaw would have been arrested. He’d taken a chance sticking around, but he was a gambler, after all and greed had a way of making a man do foolish things.

  “Never mind. I’ll find her. As soon as I light this here spitter.”

  Steven noted the short fuse Shaw held in his hand and figured Shaw had the front of the tunnel rigged with black powder. He played with the rope binding his hands. He had to find a way out of here before Shaw could get to Glory.

  An instant of panic set in. He froze in fear that he wouldn’t be able to help her. She’d be at Shaw’s mercy. And the last time that happened, he’d almost killed her.

  “Gloria Mae,” Shaw began with a sickening smirk, “must’ve gotten your gut all twisted up for you to risk your neck like this. And now you’re about to die. But don’t worry, I’ll do my best to console her.”

  Steven watched him walk toward the bend in the mine until he was out of sight. He struggled with the ties now, sending up a prayer to heaven to help him get free. He had to get to the ranch before Shaw did. He had to save Glory.

  But first, he had to survive the blast.

  Cold dread seeped in. Glory wrapped the red shawl Ruby had given her even tighter around her nightgown, hoping that Steven would return home soon. Buddy lay curled up next to her on the sofa as orange-gold flames blazed from the fireplace, but neither helped quell the chill in her heart.

  She’d pushed Steven away this morning with harsh words. Unintentionally, she’d hurt him. Confused by myriad emotions whirling around, she’d spoken as truthfully to him as she knew how. In her mind, he was still a Harding, but in her heart, he was the man who’d taught her so many things about patience and tenderness.

  Glory feared that she loved him.

  She feared what her heart seemed to know, but her mind wouldn’t allow. After her marriage to Boone, she often wondered if she was capable of true love. Would she recognize it at all once she’d met the right man? She’d been wounded and perhaps the scars ran too deep to overcome. Maybe all she felt for Steven was undying gratitude for saving her life, protecting and sheltering her.

  She wished he’d come home.

  She missed him.

  And prayed for his safety.

  She didn’t know what he had in mind for tonight. He’d been too angry to share his thoughts with her. He’d raced off the ranch riding Black Cloud, like a man determined to get far away as fast as he could.

 
A grim shudder coursed down her body. She stroked Buddy’s head, more to comfort herself than the pup. She needed the connection, to feel something warm and alive to assure her that everything would turn out all right.

  It was after midnight. Steven had promised to be home by now. She’d waited up, unable to sleep.

  And then she heard him. Black Cloud’s hooves beat a hasty rhythm as they approached the house. Joy and great relief flooded her senses. She couldn’t abide anything happening to Steven on her account. She couldn’t imagine him being hurt or injured.

  She offered up a quick prayer for Steven’s safe return. “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered aloud, her voice carrying in the quiet room, causing Buddy to lift his head. He peered at her, his big brown eyes in askance.

  “Steven’s home,” she said, joyfully. She believed the dog understood.

  Glory rose quickly from the sofa, eager to see Steven. She’d throw her arms around his neck, pull his head down and press a kiss to his lips, letting the consequences be what they may.

  Glory thrust the front door open, her smile wide and unguarded.

  She came face-to-face with Ned Shaw.

  In that instant she recalled everything that happened to her the night of Boone’s death. She shoved the door hard, trying to shut out Shaw, but he was too fast. He jammed his palm against the door to stop it from closing, thrusting his body through the opening. “Now Gloria Mae…is that any way to greet your brother-in-law?”

  Glory’s mind flashed images, sharp, fleeting, unbearable memories of that fateful night. The pieces all came together and everything that had once clouded her mind became vividly clear. Ned Shaw had been the one. He’d come to the house and deliberately picked a fight with Boone.

  Glory had no time to enjoy the welcoming relief that she hadn’t been the one to stab Boone to death. She had no time to enjoy her newfound innocence.

  Her mind conjured up the details of that night. She recalled her screams, her shock and fear when she’d seen Ned holding a knife on Boone.

  “Get back in the house,” Ned had said, tossing her a glance, his voice rough and somber.

  Glory had stood in the doorway frozen with fright.

  Boone had taken that instant to lunge at Ned, probably never quite believing his brother would really use the knife. A fight ensued and Glory had found herself mixed up in it. She’d tried to help Boone, but Ned had taken a quick swipe at her, throwing her down to the ground and knocking her out.

  When she’d woken up, couldn’t have been more than a few seconds later, she was surrounded in blood. Boone’s blood. She had screamed at the sight of his lifeless body next to hers. She had screamed at the injustice. She couldn’t stop. The sound of her screams was so shocking, even to her ears, that she no longer heard them.

  Ned had hoisted her up. He had put a hand over her mouth and dragged her inside the house. She recalled now how badly her face had hurt from the blow she’d taken. “Shut up,” he’d said, “and I might let you live.”

  That’s when Ned had made his proposition to her. He told her all about the riches his brother had been too lazy to mine, all of the riches that they could share. He told her, in no uncertain terms, he wanted her, and all the while Glory had resisted, shaking her head, backing away, unable to believe any of this nightmare was really happening.

  She had made a dash out the front door, screaming for help. It was late at night and they had no neighbors close by. Ned had caught up to her, furious at her escape attempt. He began calling her horrible names. She’d never seen a man with such fury in his eyes. And now she remembered how he’d slapped her, again and again, until her legs would no longer hold her, until her body could no longer withstand the pain.

  It was all she remembered until she’d woken up in a strange bed, with a strange man tending her wounds.

  Her mind snapped back to the present. She shoved the front door harder, but it was far too late. Ned had succeeded in wedging his way in. The next thing she knew, he stood in front of her with the door shut behind him. Trapped, her heart raced, but this time Glory knew better than to try to overpower or outrun him. She had to outsmart him and it would take every ounce of courage she possessed tempered with restraint and wisdom to stay alive.

  “What do you want?” she asked, tamping down her revulsion. Ned Shaw had become the devil in her mind. She couldn’t look him in the eyes without seeing thick bright blood.

  Ned took a long leisurely look at her, taking in the hair that had come loose from her braid, the thin white nightgown she wore, covered by Ruby’s audacious red shawl. His penetrating gaze unnerved her, but she stood her ground, unwilling to show any fear.

  “You’ve changed,” he said, and she didn’t miss the note of suspicion in his tone. “Still a beauty, but something’s different about you.”

  Glory turned her back on him and walked toward the fireplace. She couldn’t believe she acted so casually with a coldblooded killer, but this was her only chance for escape. She knew firsthand the pain Ned could inflict if angered. She hated him with every breath she took, but she didn’t dare show that hatred.

  “Yes, I’ve changed,” she said. “Losing a father and a husband will do that to a woman.”

  Ned approached her, coming within inches of her face. She bolstered her courage while trying to ignore her terror at having him so near.

  “You didn’t love Boone.”

  His accusation numbed her. No, she knew that she hadn’t loved Boone. She’d always known that in her heart, but never so clearly as right now. “He was my husband.”

  “He was lazy and stupid,” Ned snarled. “He didn’t deserve you.”

  He didn’t deserve to die at the hands of his brother, Glory thought grimly, but she kept her expression mild.

  Ned narrowed his eyes. “Tell me, when you opened the door just then, there was more than shock on your face. There was recognition. I saw it in your eyes.”

  Glory glanced out the window briefly. She couldn’t help wondering where Steven was but she didn’t dare alert Shaw that he might be showing up soon.

  “I had amnesia. I couldn’t remember anything.”

  “Until you saw me, right?”

  She closed her eyes, warding off the images that caused her anguish. “Yes. When I saw you standing there, it triggered my memory. I remember everything now.”

  She glared at him now, unable to hide her disdain and disgust. “You murdered Boone and wanted everyone to believe I’d killed him.”

  “It was a good plan,” he said smugly.

  “And then what?”

  “And then I file on your claim. I get legal rights to the strike I found.”

  A shiver ran down her spine and the chill stayed with her. Glory backed away from him slowly, making her steps seem normal when every instinct she possessed told her to run. Shaw had reason to want her dead. She glanced out the window once more, hoping for a sign of Steven.

  “He’s not coming.”

  “W-what?” She whirled around to face him completely. Deadly intent was written on Shaw’s face. He glared at her and she witnessed the truth in his eyes.

  “Harding. He’d dead by now.”

  “No!” Glory’s hand flew to her chest. She felt as if all of her blood drained from her body. “He’s not dead.”

  She refused to believe it.

  “He’s not coming to save you, Gloria Mae.”

  Glory lowered herself down onto the sofa slowly, as if she were floating in some strange dream. She’d never known such pain. Even Ned’s beating hadn’t left her with this much hurt. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She put her face in her hands and cried silently. Buddy curled up against her, his little body acting as a shield, a cushion to the dreadful pain she experienced.

  “Very touching,” Ned said with no remorse, giving her little time to grieve. “But now that he’s out of the way, I have to decide what to do with you. You see, you’re the one person who knows the truth about me. I should probably kill you.”

&n
bsp; He scratched his head lightly as if pondering something as mundane as what he should eat first, the peas or carrots on his plate. Glory glanced at the weapon holstered on his right hip. He had yet to draw his gun. She posed no threat to him in his mind, and up until this point Glory wouldn’t have thought so, either.

  But as she shoved aside the agonizing truth about Steven’s death, she began formulating a plan. For Steven, because of the many times he’d protected her. For the shelter he’d given her and the kindness and tenderness she’d only known with him, Glory decided to fight for her life. She decided to avenge Steven’s death or die trying.

  It was worth a try, she mused, because Ned Shaw wasn’t a compassionate man. He wouldn’t grant her mercy. He wouldn’t allow her to live, unless he had something to gain from it.

  She recalled the night Boone died, summoning up images of Ned’s hands on her, trying at first to seduce her, trying to bend her to his will. Glory had fought him off, repulsed by his actions, disgusted by his intentions. She’d angered him with her blatant rejection. His vile temper emerged and she’d almost died at his hands.

  Tonight, she’d have to become a different woman. With the lessons she’d learned from the Rainbow girls, Glory would play the most serious game of her life, hoping to come out the winner.

  Glory banked her tears. With resolution, she stood and purposely allowed the crimson shawl to fall from her shoulders. She pressed the material around her body, allowing the shawl to slowly drape down, caressing her curves.

  Ned’s eyes flashed immediately. She’d sparked his interest. But he wasn’t a fool and Glory had to play this perfectly, or she’d become another of his victims. “You don’t want to kill me.”

  His mouth twisted and Glory knew a moment of trepidation. “Why not?”

  “Because I remember what you really wanted the night you…the night Boone died.”