The Courting of Widow Shaw (18 page)

She did as she was told, pointing the gun.

“Keep 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 said, 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.

Glory worked until noon on broadcloth curtains with the smallest flowery print in shades of pinks and blues, happy to have completed them before meal-time. With the curtains up in the bedroom now, keeping her privacy intact, Glory set about making a quick meal in the kitchen. She lifted the egg basket only to find it empty. “Darn it.”

Glory had her heart set on an easy meal of grilled eggs. She’d wanted desperately to finish her new dress before the end of the day. She glanced out the window, noting that the henhouse just beyond the barn couldn’t be more than fifty feet away from the house. Without a soul in sight, Glory debated for half a minute about venturing outside before she hoisted the egg basket and strode out the front door. She’d be back within minutes, she reasoned, and no one would be the wiser.

Glory made quick work of retrieving the eggs from the cackling hens and stomped off the hay that had littered her boots as she made her return to the house. She was halfway through the yard when a moving flash caught her attention. On instinct, she turned in that direction. Her breath caught instantly as she noted a rider coming forth in a wagon from far off in the distance where the land had become flat and visible for miles after a rather long arduous bend in the road. “Mercy!”

With the egg basket balancing precariously in one hand, Glory raced to the house and once inside bolted the door shut realizing that she was completely exposed.
The parlor windows were large and inviting, allowing any element, be it man or beast to peer inside. She’d wished she’d had the forethought to cover those windows as well.

Heart pounding like a wielding hammer, Glory squeezed her eyes shut. What should she do.

The image of cold metal popped into her mind and as much as she hated to admit it, relief swamped her as she strode with purpose to retrieve the gun from her mattress. Steven had said she shouldn’t have fear, only respect for the weapon, and right now, Glory had nothing but the utmost respect for the Army revolver whose pearl handle felt like ice in her hand.

She debated about staying put in the bedroom, but a curious need to see who rode up to Steven’s ranch had her moving quickly to the front window. She crouched down low and peered out, her face barely peeking out from the low window frame. The wagon continued to amble down the road, only now Glory could make the image out more clearly. And it wasn’t a wagon at all, but a buggy with one sole rider at the reins.

She let out her breath and straightened to full height, straining her eyes to make out the passenger. Only once she was absolutely certain, did she drop the gun and unbolt the door, letting out a loud whoop. “Merry!”

Glory began waving, relief and joy erupting into giddy laughter as she witnessed Buddy, the apricot pooch jump down from the wagon and race toward her on his short speedy legs.

“Oh, what a treat!” She scooped Buddy up into her arms the moment he reached her and snuggled her face into his curly fur. It wasn’t but a minute more
when Merry’s buggy pulled up, her eyes bright, her face flushed under the noontime sun.

“It’s good to see you, Glory!” Merry set the brake on the buggy and bounded down from her seat with all the exuberance of an eager young child.

“And I’m glad to see you doing so well! Gosh, Merry, you look wonderful.”

Merry grinned. “I feel pretty wonderful.”

Glory set the pup down and embraced Merry with warmth. This unexpected visit, today of all days, was truly welcome. Glory hadn’t realized how much she’d missed female companionship of late. Growing up in Virginia City, where the male population greatly outweighed the female, Glory hadn’t made too many lasting friendships. Oftentimes, what families had come didn’t stay long if the mines or fields hadn’t paid out and those few girls she’d come to know as friends had moved on with their families, most likely searching for the next big gold strike.

Glory had found solace in time spent with her father and in his teachings. It wasn’t until she’d come to Rainbow House and gotten to know some of the women there that she realized how much she missed the camaraderie that went on between womenfolk.