Free The Courting of Widow Shaw by Charlene Sands Page A

other. The stream, a tributary from the Truckee River, cut the balance of the land in two.
    “Do you want to get down?” he asked, fully aware of Glory’s arms still wrapped around him.
    “Oh, yes. Please.”
    Tentatively, with a shyness he’d not witnessed before, Glory removed her arms from his waist. He helped her down first, before dismounting.
    He watched her run toward the rushing stream and thrust her arms out wide, breathing deeply, taking in fresh mountain air.
    She’d been cooped up for a week and it was plain to see how much she enjoyed being free of her confinement.
    She giggled like a small child and twirled around, her hood dropping down and allowing her blond hair to escape. She was a vision in the moonlight, a free, uninhibited spirit spinning around with joy in her heart. “Thank you. Thank you for bringing me here.”
    Steven tied Fancy’s reins around a tree and leaned against it, folding his arms, keeping his distance. It would be too easy to go to her. It would be too easy to take full advantage of her happiness. It would be too doggone easy.
    And wrong.
    Steven unrolled a gray blanket and laid it out on the ground. He undid the strap of his saddlebag and brought out a jar of apple cider and some leftover treats that Mattie had packed for him.
    The blanket looked too inviting for a man pretty much dead on his feet. He’d worked at his ranch all day, rode more than an hour late tonight to check on Glory, and now, when he should be sleeping, he found himself entertaining her, like some smitten boy courting his girl.
    Glory walked up and down the streambed balancing herself on rocks, bending to put a hand into the water and splash around. Steven put a hand to his gun, making sure he’d be ready if an intruder came upon them. One never knew when a hungry bear or wolf might approach. This was an isolated area, and though he’d been up here as a young boy and never had aproblem, no sense being reckless. They might be disturbing some wild creature’s habitat without knowing it.
    He lowered himself down on the blanket, keeping a watchful eye on Glory. As he leaned his head back against the tree, Glory came forward. She glanced at the food and drink. With eyes that simply danced, she asked, “Are we having a picnic?”
    A midnight picnic?
    Now if that didn’t beat all. Steven hadn’t thought of it that way. And it’d be best if she didn’t, either.
    “Mattie sent along some food.”
    “That was real sweet of her.”
    Glory sat down on the blanket. Her face, cast in the glow of moonlight, was beaming.
    “Is it all right if I take this off?”
    “Huh?” He lifted his head. “Oh, yeah.” She meant the cape. “For now.”
    “It’s a warm night.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    She unfastened the tie at her throat. The cape slipped off her shoulders, exposing creamy skin underneath and a surge of heat threatened to do him in. As she leaned forward to fold the cape, her small breasts pressed tight against the fabric of her gown in such a way that she nearly spilled out of the darn thing.
    He had to remember that tonight she was grateful to him for bringing her here. But in the morning, she’d remember her hatred of him, his mother and Rainbow House.
    “This is a beautiful place. How do you know about it?”
    Steven leaned back, putting his hat on, and slantingit down across his forehead. He couldn’t be lusting after Glory all night. Keeping his eyes averted would help.
    “I used to come here, when I was a boy.”
    “By yourself?”
    He nodded. “I guess it was a way to get out of the house for a time.” With a finger, he raised his hat enough to look her in the eye. “At night.”
    Glory blinked. “Oh.”
    “My mother never knew.”
    “But you felt you had to get away from…from—”
    “Yeah.” That’s all he would say. He wouldn’t allow Glory any more ammunition to use against his mother or her way of life.
    Glory smoothed the blanket out with her palm, making circles, her mind probably