The Widow's Little Secret. Judith Stacy

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      Mattie cast a furtive glance at the man towering over her, then focused her gaze on her chore. Jared McQuaid was ruggedly handsome. Well over six feet tall; she remembered brushing her legs against his longer ones during the night.

      He had big shoulders and arms; he’d rolled her around the bed with considerable ease. A hard chest; her fingers had raked over it a good portion of the night. Thick, black hair; she’d yanked on it more than once.

      Now, this morning in the light, she saw that his eyes were blue. The very last secret the man held.

      Thanks to her wanton behavior last night.

      Mattie cringed, a deeper heat crackling inside her.

      But he’d made her forget, just as he’d boasted he could. She’d forgotten all her troubles. And how welcome that had been, even for those few hours.

      His strength went beyond the physical. In her kitchen last night she’d seen it. Jared McQuaid could carry the weight of his own troubles, plus hers and dozens more.

      Another shudder passed through Mattie and her cheeks heated again. Embarrassment. Humiliation.

      What else could it be?

      Mattie made tiny strokes with the broom, trying to make the chore last as long as possible. If he saw she was busy maybe he would simply go away.

      She wanted him to go away. Good gracious, how she wanted him to leave. She never wanted to lay eyes on this Jared McQuaid again, or to be reminded of last night.

      She’d propositioned a stranger. Wrestled him like a wild bear. And liked it.

      A little whimper slipped through Mattie’s lips at the thought. She dashed to the trash bin with the dustpan full of broken china, and took her time emptying it.

      Closing her eyes for a moment, she said a silent prayer that when she turned around, Jared McQuaid would be gone.

      “Why are you here today?” she heard him ask.

      With a sigh she turned and saw him wave his big hand around the kitchen.

      “Nobody expects you to be open for business,” he said. “Not today.”

      Mattie stuffed the broom and dustpan into the cupboard, a little peeved that he wouldn’t take the hint, do the decent thing and leave her alone with her humiliation.

      “Since you’re brimming over with my personal information, and have such an excellent memory of everything I said last night, perhaps you’ll recall that my husband left me penniless? I have to open for business today.”

      “No, you don’t,” he said softly. “What you’ve been through isn’t easy to bear. You need some time.”

      “I hope you won’t think I’m rude, Mr. McQuaid, when I point out that this is none of your business.”

      “You made it my business,” he told her. “Last night.”

      She faltered and touched her hand to her throat. “I know you feel…used…under the circumstances.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “Circumstances?”

      “Yes.” Mattie tried to look at him, but failed. “The circumstances in which I…used you.”

      She felt his gaze burn hotter against her skin, and Mattie wished with all her heart that she could simply disappear in a puff of smoke. It was too much. All of it. Everything she’d been through in the past three days was simply too much to bear.

      Seeing Del fall from the roof, one of the very few times he’d done something useful at the house.

      Realizing that her husband was dying before her eyes.

      Hearing his confession.

      Knowing what a fool she’d been.

      Thinking how disappointed her parents would have been in her.

      Imagining what everyone would say about her, if they found out.

      Pretending, in front of the whole town.

      And now this.

      A lump rose in Mattie’s throat, closing it off, bringing a mist of tears to her eyes. She looked up at Jared and knew she owed him an apology. But somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to say she was sorry.

      “Mr. McQuaid—” Her voice broke. Mattie gulped down the knot of emotion and tried again. “Mr. McQuaid, I realize you owe me nothing and I have no right to ask anything else of you, but I would appreciate it if you would leave.”

      He didn’t leave. Instead, he studied her for a long moment, then eased closer until she could feel the heat of his body.

      “You’re going to have to figure out a way to deal with your husband’s betrayal, Mattie,” he said. “But don’t be sorry you reached out for help last night. Don’t be sorry you needed somebody.”

      He touched her chin and brought her face around.

      “Don’t be sorry it was me,” he whispered.

      And with that, Jared McQuaid walked out the kitchen door of the Cottonwood Café.

      As he stalked down the boardwalk, people got out of his way. Jared strode into the newspaper office, then went to the jail. The sheriff was there, limping on his makeshift crutch, cursing the pain of his gunshot wound.

      Jared signed the paperwork, took custody of the prisoners and marched them to the train station at gun-point. He loaded them into the baggage car, chained their leg irons to the floor and went back out to the platform.

      The wind snapped his coat around his knees as he stared down Main Street. Prosperous businesses, likable people; this was a good town.

      His gaze landed on the Cottonwood Café, the sign barely visible at the other end of town.

      Mattie Ingram.

      Yeah, he’d made her forget, all right.

      Now, how was he going to manage it?

      Chapter Three

      “Two months? Two months gone by since you were here the last time?” Mayor Rayburn asked.

      “Almost three,” Jared said.

      “Well, if that don’t beat all…”

      Standing with the mayor inside the sheriff’s office, Jared could hardly believe how quickly the time had passed since his first visit to Stanford.

      Or how much had happened.

      “Where does the time go?” the mayor lamented, stroking his gray side whiskers. “Anyway, take it from me and the town council, we’re plum tickled to have you here in Stanford, to stay this time.”

      Jared СКАЧАТЬ