The Widowed Bride. Elizabeth Lane

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the rest of the bare wooden floor. Clara’s family had offered her the loan of some lightly used carpets, an overstuffed set, a dining-room table and other odds and ends from their storage shed. Jace would be bringing it into town when he delivered the girls at the end of the week. Meanwhile, she would have to make do with a few rickety wooden chairs for parlor seating.

      She stole a glance at Ethan as he climbed the stairs to the landing and disappeared. Maybe she should have taken him up on his offer of the hotel room. The thought of a safe, clean, comfortable night was as tempting as a siren’s song.

      But since she couldn’t pay for the room, and wouldn’t accept charity from the man, that wasn’t going to happen. She would spend the night here, in the saggy double bed that had come with her run-down, spider-infested house. And she would try to be proud of herself for getting this far on her own. Months, or maybe years from now, she would look back on this period as a time of growth, a time when she’d found the strength and courage to meet new challenges.

      But right now, just getting through today seemed challenge enough.

      Ethan had dragged the mattress into the backyard and propped it on end against a sturdy clothesline pole. Using an abandoned baseball bat he’d found in the grass, he delivered blow after blow against the faded, cotton-stuffed ticking. He’d half expected a veritable Noah’s ark of small vermin to come rushing out through the seams, but so far the vigorous beating had only raised clouds of dust.

      And that was just as well, since his mind was scarcely on task. Most of his thoughts had been about Ruby, who was slowly driving him to distraction.

      Why would a woman turn down a comfortable hotel room to stay alone in a place that wasn’t fit for habitation? Maybe she was too proud to accept his offer. But he couldn’t rule out the possibility that something was going down tonight—something that involved that stash of moonshine in the cellar.

      Either way, there were things about the woman he couldn’t explain. If she was planning something, why had she shown him the furniture in the cellar and left him free to look through the stack? And why had she offered him sheets and a blanket for his bed, as if she’d assumed he would be staying the night?

      Her actions pointed to innocence. But something about the beautiful widow didn’t fit the picture. She was as out of place in this house, and this town, as a swan in a chicken coop.

      Perhaps we’d both be better off if you stayed at the hotel.

      When Ruby had spoken those words he’d been on the verge of crushing her in his arms and kissing her until she whimpered for mercy. Every instinct had told him she’d wanted that kiss. But at the last second, she’d pulled back, almost as if she’d been afraid. Then, before anything could be resolved, the mayor and his slit-mouthed son had come knocking at the damn door, and now it seemed that Ruby was going to dinner with them.

      Ethan laid into the mattress with the power of frustration, landing blows that stung all the way up his arms. He was a seasoned professional lawman who’d achieved his rank through the coolheaded performance of his duty. He prided himself on his detachment, avoiding any personal involvement in his cases. So far the practice had served him well.

      But Ruby Rumford was driving him crazy.

      He’d known more than a few women in the four rootless years since the loss of his family. Pretty women. Charming women. Ruthless women. Ruby was not like any of them. She was a bundle of contradictions—strength and fragility, passion and aloofness, fire and ice. Every word she’d spoken rang true. But he sensed a hidden darkness lurking behind that innocent gaze. That air of mystery only made her more intriguing.

      He wanted her, damn it.

      And he needed a way to uncover her secrets—even if it meant she’d end up hating him for it.

      In any case, he didn’t really plan to spend the night at the hotel. Let her think he was safely out of sight. He would be close by, watching the back of the house. If any business was going on with that stash of illegal booze in the cellar—and if Ruby was involved—he would soon know.

      When the mattress was beaten to his satisfaction, he picked it up and lugged it into the house. Ruby was gone from the parlor, but he could hear the faint thud of shifting furniture from one of the back bedrooms. Leaning the mattress against the stair railing, Ethan strode in the direction of the sound. It appeared that the lady could use some help, and he’d be remiss not to offer his two strong arms.

      He found her in the larger of the two downstairs bedrooms, struggling to move an iron-framed double bed away from the wall. She was straining backward, her hands gripping a corner post. Perspiration had plastered her linen blouse to the back of her shoulders.

      She paused, turning as he stepped into the room. Her blue eyes were wide and startled. Her tousled hair, caught by a shaft of light from the high window, blazed like an Arizona sunset. Lord, but she was beautiful, he thought. A man could lose his mind just looking at her.

      “You could have called me,” he said. “I was just out back.”

      “No need. I can manage this fine.” She returned to tugging on the bedpost, dragging the heavy frame away from the wall by inches. A drop of sweat glistened on her temple.

      “You hired me to work for you, remember?” Stepping behind her, he clasped her shoulders to guide her away from the bed. Her body tensed beneath his palms, but she made no effort to resist. “Let me help you, Ruby,” he said. “That’s why I’m here.”

      She stood with her back toward him, her seductive fragrance wafting into his nostrils. Ethan knew that he should let her go, but his hands wanted more of her. He imagined his fingers sliding down her shoulders to cradle the lush, warm weight of her breasts, his arms pulling her back against him, molding her ample rump to his body until he could feel…

      Hellfire, what was he thinking? She’d probably slap him silly.

      Willing himself to let go, he released her and stepped away. She turned to face him, her lips moist, her breathing quick and shallow. When she spoke, her voice was a husky little rasp.

      “This mattress could probably use a good beating, as well. While you have it outside, I can dust the springs and clean the floor under the bed. With the mattress gone, it should be easy enough to move the frame….” The words poured out of her in a nervous torrent. Ethan fought the temptation to stop her mouth with his.

      “Stand back,” he said. “I’ll have it out of here in a minute.”

      Ethan bent over the mattress. It was heavier than he’d expected, and years of wear had made it as floppy as a big pancake. He wrestled with the cursed thing, tackling it from the side, from the middle and from the end, without being able to pick it up. From somewhere behind him came a delightful sound. It took him a moment to realize it was Ruby giggling. Her laughter was as sweet as a girl’s.

      He collapsed facedown across the mattress, letting the sound wash over him. Memories stirred inside him, blurred by pain and years—memories of love and happy warmth he had no wish to ever feel again.

      Ethan forced the memories from his mind. They faded slowly, like tears on sun-parched earth.

      How long had it been since she’d allowed herself to laugh? Ruby gazed down at Ethan’s prone body, savoring the giddiness that had swept over her. It was oddly comforting to know that this big, strong man had his limitations.

      “This

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