Free Rocky Mountain Widow (Historical) by Jillian Hart

Claire? She was a lovely woman, but he’d been around plenty of lovely women. They were everywhere in town, in the stores, serving meals at the diners, and yet he’d never felt this spark before.
    Obviously, it wasn’t simply that Claire was a sight to behold, her skin like porcelain, her hair thick and lustrous and a beauty of its own. Maybe it was her vulnerability that appealed to him, since he’d witnessed Ham’s brutality to her. Joshua wouldn’t treat a rabid dog the way Hamilton had taken a whip to his wife. Maybe that was why he ached as he turned his back on her motionless form. Why he closed down his heart like a fire’s damper and left the sparks to smolder out.
    He pushed open the door, welcoming the biting sting of winter. The cold gave him something to think about besides the beautiful widow. He had enough troubles—his cracked ankle was killing him. And General had been pushed beyond his own strength. Once that happened, sometimes a horse was never the same.
    Yes, he cared about his horse. They’d been buddies for a long time. And General had given his all to savethem. What a great animal. Warmth edged into Joshua’s heart as he climbed into the stall. His equine friend didn’t acknowledge his presence, too exhausted to do more than blink.
    â€œYou did good, boy.” Joshua eased down beside him and ran his hand along General’s firm neck.
    Maybe it wasn’t right that a man’s best friend was a horse, but they’d been through a lot together. He trusted no one like he did General. “I was gonna come back for you, buddy.”
    The gelding nickered low in his throat, as if he understood both the English language and the situation, the choice Joshua had had to make. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you coming up behind us.”
    General nickered again and, with a painful-sounding sigh, closed his eyes. Drifted off to sleep.
    A good horse. A better friend. Joshua creaked to his knees, limped through the cramped, dirty-smelling barn, and found a few horse blankets that hadn’t been cleaned or aired, but left to gather dust in a corner. Ham had been a lazy rancher. God knows how he managed to have enough animals survive to keep this place.
    Joshua shook the blankets out and covered General with them. Time would tell if he’d make it. Or have to be retired to pasture.
    Loss. It clung to him like the ferocious air; it speared at him like the pain from his thawing flesh.
    He’d take the Clydesdale back to the homestead. He had his conscience to ease and his family to protect.
    And if he added a prayer for Claire’s unlikely recovery, then it wasn’t an actual, real prayer. Just more of ahope, for Joshua Gable was not a praying man. Life was a gamble, and he felt as if he were holding the lowest cards in the deck next to a dealer’s king and an ace.
    Not good betting odds, but life was far from a sure thing. A wager everyone lost in the end.

Chapter Five
    T he sound of a gunshot brought her to awareness again. The single shot had seemed to come from far away, too. She knew instinctively that she was home safe, that the single, distinctive pop had come from behind the barn. It was Ham.
    Ham being shot. Her mind spun forward, as if it were a nightmare, bringing her to the edge of the grave where her husband’s casket gleamed in the failing daylight. Where snowflakes began to fall one by one as if to bury the image from her sight. The confrontation with her mother-in-law, Ham’s brother’s confronting Joshua, the horror of collapsing in the snow as contractions seized control of her midsection—
    No. That had been a nightmare. None of it was true. She couldn’t let it be. Because if the baby was gone, then she’d lost everything that could ever matter. She would be alone without anyone to love. She had so much love in her heart. So much she’d planned on giving to her child. And