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The Widowed Bride
Elizabeth Lane
Indulge your fantasies of delicious Regency Rakes, fierce Viking warriors and rugged Highlanders. Be swept away into a world of intense passion, lavish settings and romance that burns brightly through the centuriesKnown to her friends as a free spirit, Elizabeth Lane has traveled the world in search of new adventures and good stories.She has lived in Mexico, Guatemala, Panama and Germany and traveled to such exotic spots as China and Nepal, but she is most at peace in the mountains of her native Utah. As of this writing, she lives in a suburb of Salt Lake City with an eighteen-year-old cat named PowderPuff.Single since 1984, Elizabeth has raised a son and two daughters. One daughter, who died in an accident in 1985, is still a loving presence in her mother's life. The other two children are grown and thriving, and Elizabeth revels in her new loves her grandchildren.Elizabeth is, perhaps, too easily lured by new challenges. She loves hiking, photography, belly dancing, animals, Native American culture, and any kind of music. She has pursued whales off Baja California, trekked the Himalayas, rafted the Grand Canyon, and even taken a flying lesson. Since 1983 she has worked full-time as an educational software designer. But her favorite pastime is writing lively, passionate stories that will reach out and touch her readers.Her novels have been published in ten languages and enjoyed in many parts of the world. Elizabeth's first novel, a historical saga about the Spanish conquest of Mexico, was published in 1980. Several more sagas followed, including two books set in China. When the market for big, serious historical novels faded, it took her four lean years to make the transition to romance. Wind River, her first Harlequin Historical, was published in 1989.She has also written several contemporary Silhouette books. "Everyone and everything has a story" Elizabeth is fond of saying when asked about her ideas. "From the penny in your hand to the stranger in the grocery line, each set of experiences is unique. Look around you and listen with your imagination. You'll have stories to write for a lifetime. "Elizabeth Loves hearing from her readers. You can contact her at her e-mail address, elizl@uswest. net, or write to her in care of Harlequin Reader Services.
“You were made to be loved, Ruby,” he murmured against her hair. “Let me show you how loving’s meant to be. Let me give you the pleasure you deserve.”
Ruby’s throat tightened. She struggled to reply, but no words would come.
“What is it? Are you afraid of me?”
She shook her head, finding her voice. “It’s not you I’m afraid of. It’s me. All those years of steeling myself against the things he did, the nights of lying there, wondering how he was going to use me next…”
She exhaled raggedly. “What if I’m broken, Ethan? What if I can’t—?”
His kiss lasted just long enough to block her words. “Hush,” he breathed.
The Widowed Bride
Harlequin
Historical #1031—March 2011
Praise for Elizabeth Lane
The Horseman’s Bride
“The Gustavson family has won the hearts of Americana fans seeking a realistic love story. Lane wisely continues in this vein with the latest in her series, in which a fiery young woman meets her match in a mysterious drifter.”
—RT Book Reviews
The Borrowed Bride
“Lane’s pleasing love story brims over with tender touches.”
—RT Book Reviews
His Substitute Bride
“This tender and loving story, spinning off from Lane’s previous Western, showcases her talent for drawing three-dimensional characters and placing them in an exciting time and place.”
—RT Book Reviews
Wyoming Woman
“This credible, now-or-never romance moves with reckless speed through a highly engrossing and compact plot to the kind of happy ending we read romances to enjoy.”
—RT Book Reviews
The Widowed Bride
Elizabeth Lane
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Available from Harlequin
Historical and ELIZABETH LANE
Wind River #28
Birds of Passage #92
Moonfire #150
MacKenna’s Promise #216
Lydia #302
Apache Fire #436
Shawnee Bride #492
Bride on the Run #546
My Lord Savage #569
Navajo Sunrise #608
Christmas Gold #627
“Jubal’s Gift”
Wyoming Widow #657
Wyoming Wildcat #676
Wyoming Woman #728
Her Dearest Enemy #754
Wyoming Wildfire #792
Stay for Christmas #819
“Angels in the Snow”
The Stranger #856
On the Wings of Love #881
The Borrowed Bride #920
His Substitute Bride #939
Cowboy Christmas #963
“The Homecoming”
The Horseman’s Bride #983
The Widowed Bride #1031
For my girls
Tanya, Teresa, Tiffany and Olivia
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
Dutchman’s Creek, Colorado
May 1920
The sooty cobweb stretched from the chandelier to the high ceiling, a good four feet out of reach. Lurking near its center was a spider—a monster with long, prickly legs and a body as big as a copper penny.
Ruby Denby Rumford glared up at her adversary. She’d always had a mortal dread of spiders, but she couldn’t let this one get the best of her. If she wanted to attract good tenants for her boardinghouse, the place would have to be spotless from floor to ceiling. The spider had to go.
Circling warily, she plotted her attack. She might be able to reach the web with the broom. But if she knocked the spider loose, it could end up anywhere—in her hair, in her face, down her blouse… Ruby shuddered as she weighed her options. The only way to make sure the creature didn’t land on her would be to capture it first.
A dusty Mason jar with a lid sat on the kitchen counter. That would do for a trap. But she’d need something to climb on. Ruby sighed as she surveyed the rickety cane chairs that had come with the old boardinghouse. Maybe she should have paid four-fifty for that stepladder at the hardware store. But buying the property had taken almost all her money. Until the rents started coming in, she would need to hoard every cent she had left.
Moving a chair to the center of the room, she tried standing on the seat; but the spider was still out of reach. She needed something more—that wooden crate in the corner might do. Placed on the chair, it would raise her a good eighteen inches.
With the crate in place, Ruby retrieved the jar and prepared for battle. She could do this, she lectured herself. A woman who’d fired three bullets into her raging, two-hundred-pound husband at point-blank range should have no trouble facing down a creature the size of her thumb.
Hollis Rumford had deserved to die. Even the jurors had agreed after they’d heard how Hollis had abused her and threatened worse to their two young daughters. At the urging of the best lawyer in the state, they’d acquitted Ruby on grounds of self-defense. But her wealthy friends—mostly Hollis’s friends—had been less forgiving. The Springfield, Missouri, social set had cut her off cold.
Exhausted and needing a change of scene, she’d fled to Europe with her little girls. A few months later she’d returned to discover that her late husband’s estate had been gobbled up by creditors, leaving her with little more than a pittance.
There was nothing to do but pull up stakes and make a new start.
Dutchman’s Creek had been a natural choice. Ruby’s brother Jace, her only close kin, had settled on a nearby ranch. He and his spirited young bride, Clara, were expecting their first baby. They’d urged Ruby to come to Colorado so their children could grow up together.
Ruby had welcomed the invitation. She’d seen the town on an earlier visit and been captivated by its peaceful mountain setting. She’d always been close to Jace, and Clara was like a sister to her. But she had no intention of becoming a burden to them. Whatever it took, she’d vowed, she would find a way to provide for herself and her children.
The vacant boarding house at the south end of Main Street had looked like an answer to her prayers. She and her daughters could live on the main floor and rent the four upstairs rooms for a steady income.
Only now was she beginning to realize how much she’d taken on.
She was glad she’d accepted Clara’s invitation to take the girls for the week. Mandy and Caro were having the time of their lives on the ranch, riding horses, climbing trees, bottle-feeding orphaned calves and gathering eggs in the chicken coop.
Meanwhile, their mother had a spider to dispose of.
Clutching the jar in one hand, she hitched up her narrow skirt and hoisted herself onto the edge of the chair. Her brother had offered to come and help her get the place in shape. Ruby had turned him down out of stubborn pride. Jace had already done enough for her, risking his life and freedom to protect her after Hollis’s death. It was time she learned to manage on her own.
Holding her breath, Ruby mounted the crate. Her knees quivered as she steadied her balance on the wooden slats. Seconds, that was all she’d need to do the job.
Close up, the spider looked bigger and nastier than ever. Steeling herself, Ruby twisted the lid off the Mason jar and positioned it below the creature. A little more stretch and she could use the lid to maneuver it inside. Heart pounding, she eased onto her tiptoes…
A wooden slat splintered beneath her weight. Thrown off balance, Ruby lurched upward. The jar shattered against the floor as she grabbed for the chain that suspended the small chandelier. Miraculously, the chain held. But her thrashing feet had toppled the crate and chair, leaving her to dangle above the wreckage. The distance to the floor wasn’t all that far, but falling could land her on a splintered board, a jutting chair leg or shards of broken glass.
The web was empty now. The spider, she realized, could be anywhere. Panic clenched Ruby’s stomach. Her grip was getting weaker, and she had no safe place to fall. There was only one thing she could do.
Scream bloody murder.
U.S. Deputy Marshal Ethan Beaudry had been assigned to weed out bootleggers, not rescue females in distress. But the shrieks coming from the old boarding house were too urgent to ignore. Vaulting the picket fence, he charged up the steps and burst through the front door.
