Western Widows (9 page)

BEN

"Aren't you two matchmaking old biddies," I grumbled, standing with my friends Liam Anderson and Seth Barnes. We milled around outside of the church with the other men of the congregation while the ladies organized and readied the monthly pot luck at the tables set up beneath the large shade trees. The hymns were sung, the sermon delivered and now it was time to socialize. The weather was perfect, sunny and warm, a slight breeze blowing the tall Montana grasses. "Since when have you decided I need a woman?"

"Decided? Us?" Liam negligently pointed at Seth and himself. "We didn't decide. You've already chosen her."

"Leah needs a protector and we've seen you eyeing her like a fifteen year old with his first crush," Seth countered.

I rubbed the back of my neck at their blunt scrutiny of my personal relationships. I had no
relationship
with Leah Caruthers, hadn't even spoken with her. I had, however, watched her closely, went out of my way to keep a careful vigil over her whereabouts as she had no man in her life. Not that her husband had been any kind of real man even when he was alive.

"First crush? He looks like a
man
that knows exactly what he wants," Liam added. "The question is whether he's man enough to go about getting it."

"I don't need help with a woman," I countered. I kicked a pebble across the churchyard as I thought about Leah Caruthers and her delectable body. She was everything I ever wanted, although I didn't know it until the first time I saw her several months ago. She's filled my thoughts and all of my fantasies of late. No other woman compared. Even the scantily clad women at the saloon didn't make my cock stir the way just the hint of Leah's perfume did.

"Then how come we've each got a woman warming our beds at night and you don't?"

I didn't like Liam's question and if we weren't in front of the house of God and Reverend Pick wasn't chatting nearby, I would have punched him in the nose. If I had my way, Leah wouldn't just be warming my bed, but me as well. She wasn't like Liam nor Seth's new wife for she was wary of men in a way that was akin to downright fear. She needed gentle persuasion, not the brute possession my friends had used to obtain their brides.

"You followed Charlotte for three months before you claimed her." I pointed at Liam first, then to Seth. "You needed Liam to kick your ass to get you to make Rachel yours and you had to publicly seduce her to get her to the altar."

Seth's jaw clamped tight. "Do you want Leah?"

The serious look in Seth's eye indicated he wasn't jesting any longer and I could only nod in affirmation, all the while I clenched my right hand into a fist just in case. "Why are you nudging me in her direction all of a sudden?"

Seth looked uncomfortable for a moment, then grinned. "Hell, Rachel's worried about Leah and if you don't do something about that woman, I'll be required to put effort forth on
real
matchmaking."

I gave my head a sad shake. My friends had gone soft in the very short time they'd been married. They might be in control in their marriages but it seemed the women had all the power.

"You know Paul Caruthers' claim didn't pan out," Liam stated.

"I don't want her for her fucking money," I added. "I've got plenty of my own as you well know." As Seth's partner in the Monarch Mill Mine, neither of us were destitute.

"Caruthers gambled away whatever he made, which wasn't much, and whatever fortune they brought to town. I assume it was hers as he would have wasted it all sooner. That vein wasn't as big as he thought," Seth said.

A shout that the food was ready had the men moving toward the heavily ladened tables. We remained where we were letting the hungry men leave us behind.

"Charlotte didn't like the man," Liam said. "She said she'd never been near him, didn't want to."

Paul Caruthers had been a fucking asshole when he was sober. Before he died, he was seen more often than not with a whiskey bottle in his hand. He'd been a belligerent, nasty drunk. I'd watched him with Leah and knew she'd been vastly unhappy. The thought of Leah being at that man's mercy made my skin crawl and every bit of protectiveness well to the surface, like a bubbling spring and just as hot and volatile.

Charlotte and Rachel approached with glasses of lemonade and I took mine with a thanks. The way they smiled at their husbands was a blatant sign of their happiness. "We'll be right there, baby," Seth told Rachel, giving her a kiss on her brow. "Save us a place in line."

They noticed we were well into a conversation and left without questioning.

"Men are speaking of her. A widow with a mine. I'm surprised she hasn't been claimed yet."

Liam's words did not sit well. In fact, the idea of men talking of her in crude and callous way had my hackles rise, like the wolves that roamed the area.

Liam turned his head toward the crowd, then pointed. "There, see. Isn't that Michael McNamara paying her court?"

I turned my eyes to see, for I kept her in my purview when near. Sure enough, petite Leah Caruthers stood by the selection of dessert pies with McNamara looming. Her end of the long row of tables was quiet, the townsfolk saving their dessert for after they completed their meal.

"He's a good choice for her. Mild and courteous. Lord only knows what Caruthers did to her," Seth commented.

"Over my dead fucking body," I growled. McNamara was a decent sort, a man I'd allow my sister to step out with, but not Leah.
Leah was mine.

"Reverend Pick is right over there," Seth indicated with a tilt of his head. "It's a good time as any for a marriage."

"Claim her, Ben, or someone else will."

I hadn't wanted to rush the woman, for I knew her marriage had not been a happy one. It had been obvious to everyone they were not a love match, but there had been nothing to do regarding the arrangement. Legal and holy bonds had kept Leah entrapped until the mine cave in. In a few seconds time, Caruthers had been killed and Leah had been saved. Saved from a lifetime of Paul Caruthers. If I continued to wait for her to be ready for another marriage, we would be old and gray, or she might be Mrs. Michael McNamara. Perhaps I needed to wed her first and show her reason later.

LEAH

Mr. McNamara appeared kind. His smile was mild and his voice was soft. It was blatant, even to me, his interest in me. Me! Why he was even looking in my direction with all the younger women, maidens instead of a widow, was confusing. Mary Green and Alice Rosman would suit him quite well. However, he wasn't with them, but standing before me. With a table between us I felt safe. The man wasn't going to grab me over the blueberry pie and hurt me. Nothing he said about the weather or the lunch offerings could remove the wariness I felt. Surely he meant me no harm and his intentions were honorable. But I felt nothing for the man and if not for the table, I would have bid him some excuse and hastily departed.

As we set up for the lunch earlier, Charlotte Anderson and Rachel Byrnes had been speaking about their new husbands and offered a few salacious details in whispered voices. Their eyes brightened and their cheeks turned pink speaking of their husband's more fervent attentions. They were clearly happy. No fear haunted their eyes. No sounds made them jump. No touches made them cringe. They
wanted
their husbands to kiss them, strip them bare and take them. There was no doubt the men did, and frequently.

I longed for what they had, but I was too jaded, too wounded, to believe that true love was meant for me. I was destined to be alone, for while married to Paul, I'd longed for just that. For him to go away and leave me in solitude. I'd even dreamed of his death. That dream had miraculously come true—although the deaths of the other men were nothing to be thankful for—and I could not be so lucky as to be provided with more.

Mr. McNamara said something and stared at me expectantly, awaiting an answer, but I had not been paying him any attention. I felt a fool, for I was doing the man a disservice. He should be turned in the direction of a woman who was right for him, whole and eager for his attentions.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I was woolgathering," I told him.

"Her mind was focused on me and the meal she promised to eat with me."

Mr. McNamara and I both turned at the man's voice. It was Ben Worth. My heart leapt into my throat at the sight of him. His hair was as dark as pitch, cut very short and kept neat. He held his hat in his hand and offered me a nod of hello. His equally dark eyes met mine and almost dared me to contradict him. When he looked at me thusly, I froze in place, as if my feet had been encased in one of the squares of ice cut from the river in winter. I swallowed, trying to return my heart to its rightful place in my chest. Could he see it pounding against my breast? The corner of his mouth tipped up into a semblance of a smile and I wondered what he looked like when he smiled outright, imagining it like the sun breaking through a spot in thick clouds.

I'd only seen him a few times, the young ladies mentioning how handsome he was in quiet whispers with their friends and mothers. His looks were not missed by anyone of the female persuasion in town, nor I. I'd turned my gaze to him on occasion, wanting to see the play of his hands on a hymnal or rubbing a horse's flank. I watched as he lifted a sack of grain onto the back of a wagon in aid of an older gentleman and had been mesmerized by the muscles in his back.

Ben Worth was the only man in my entire twenty-three years who made me feel.
Something.
I didn't know exactly what it was as it was foreign to me, but I liked it. When Paul had seen my eyes turned Mr. Worth's way at a Christmas party, I quickly averted my gaze, ignoring the man and the feelings that went with him. He could bring me nothing but trouble. I hadn't needed the repercussions that Paul meted out with demeaning and harsh words, so I put the man to the back of my mind. Unfortunately, he did not stay there and as I saw him in town, always from a distance, my thoughts returned to him again and again.

Now, however, here he was, flesh and blood and a dimple in his cheek. He was tall, easily a head taller than I, but I was quite small and there was no real way to avoid him. At least with Mr. McNamara awaiting my response. If I disagreed with him, I'd call him a liar in front of Mr. McNamara. If I gave his lie truth, then I would have to...what? I did know that Mr. McNamara did not deserve any unintended interest from me.

I gave the eager Mr. McNamara a false smile. "I apologize, sir, but it must be the heat. Mr. Worth is correct. I had forgotten and he has been kind enough to approach me even as I'm sure he's quite hungry and the food half gone."

Mr. McNamara congenially shook Mr. Worth's hand. "Then I shouldn't keep you from your plans." He nodded to me then left.

The sounds of the congregation were muted, most busy eating on blankets beneath the large swath of shade. Children ran and played, some even venturing down toward the creek to splash.

"It appeared you needed rescuing from an overeager swain," Mr. Worth commented, watching the other man's retreat, then turning his gaze full bore onto me.

"Indeed. Thank you, Mr. Worth, for rescuing me, however, you are not obliged to eat with me. I assure you there are many a maiden who would vie for that attention." I folded my hands in front of me, offering him a placid smile all the while my insides were in complete turmoil. He hadn't looked away from me yet and now his gaze became even more earnest, as if weighing my every word.

"I assure you, ma'am, that I know exactly where I wish to focus my attention."

I had to dissuade him, not wanting him near me. My palms were damp and I was afraid of him. Perhaps not in the way I'd been fearful of Paul, but there was something about Mr. Worth that had me edgy and nervous. Perhaps it was the strong jaw or how calm and confident he was.

"It is unfortunate then that I am not hungry as I ate earlier." I was ravenous, in fact, but he did not need to know that. I had a meager selection at home to eat, although I had planned to take use of the church meal to extend it. It was bandied about town that Paul and Leah Caruthers were well to do, and after Paul's death that I was a wealthy widow. Our home was large, our clothes fine.
I'd
had money at one time that I'd inherited at my father's death and had been the only lure for Paul to marry me, but he'd bled that fortune dry, pouring money into a worthless mine. Now, I was nearly destitute and a church pot luck provided ample sustenance. It was ironic that my overzealous father had instituted the match, seeing only what Paul wished to show while courting, which was piety to my father's faith. It had been a more devout interest in his fortune. I'd shared my disinterest in the match, but my father had not listened and the union formed.

"Then sit with me as I eat. Surely you would like to sit for a spell." Between his gentle charm and good looks, he was very persuading.

Charlotte, who'd left me to see to her husband, came down the length of the table to stand beside me. "Go, Leah and eat with Mr. Worth. You've been helping all morning without taking a moment for yourself. No one will be coming for dessert until they've finished off all that fried chicken and pork chops." She glanced to Mr. Worth, then back to me with a very knowing smile. I flushed as she caught me in my lie and the man was smart enough to see that. "Ensure that she eats something, sir. I put her in your capable hands."