Western Widows

"Paul yelled at you?"

I couldn't answer him for the same reasons as I ran off, worried that he'd be angry with my answer.

"I'll take your silence as confirmation." He swore under his breath. "I'm not going to yell at you, Leah. I'm not going to raise my voice and shout. I know the kind of man Paul was. Outside, I wasn't testing you or your loyalty to your dead husband."

I searched his face for the truth and I shook my head in denial. "No. You could be tricking me."

His eyebrows went up. "Trick you? Why would I trick you into admitting the truth?"

"So...so you can hurt me."

He stared at me for a moment. "Jesus," he hissed. His hand resting on my thigh tightened into a firm grip. "Did he beat you?"

Dark eyes raked over me, looking for signs of abuse, even after all these months. I had to ease his mind at least a little bit, for he seemed truly concerned. "No. He never hit me. He only—" I bit my lips together.

"He only what, sweetheart?" he prodded.

"He was verbally abusive and because of that I am fearful and cautious."

"Of men," he responded.

"Of everything," I countered with a weary sigh.

"I don't want you to be afraid of me." He turned my hand over and held it, palm to palm. His touch was gentle, yet secure, his hand so much larger than mine that it all but disappeared in his grasp. "I won't hurt you. Ever. You have my word."

I heard the vehemence in his tone, but that didn't keep me from wondering why his attention was focused on me.

"Why are you here? There are so many nice young women outside who would suit you."

"I know."

My stomach soured at his words and I tried to tug my hand free.

"I've found one that suits me just fine."

"Oh," I responded, hearing the disappointment in my voice. Of course he'd find a woman to court, for he was all that I could imagine a man to be. In all the hubbub and enjoyment of a Sunday potluck, he was sitting with me in the empty church. He had no idea how attractive, how appealing he was, for he should be out there flaunting it. No doubt women circled him like bees to honey. "I should let you get to her then." I made to rise, but again, he held me in place with a simple squeeze of my hand.

"Leah, it's you. I want you."

My mouth fell open and I just stared at him for a long moment. "I'm sorry. What? Me?"

He smiled at me, at my shock, his dimple appearing. "Yes, you."

The man was crazy and I shook my head. "I'm worthless."

Ben moved his hands to my arms and turned my upper body so I had no choice but to face him. "I never want to hear that from you again. If you're speaking of yourself, then your bastard husband did a job on you that I'll take the rest of my life to fix. If you're referring to your fortune, I'm well aware Paul gambled it all away, whether at the Poker table or on an unworkable mine." His eyes raked over my face, stilled on my lips for a moment, then lifted to mine again. "Do you think I was interested in you for that?"

He looked angry with every tense line of his body, the firm grip of his arms. "You're angry with me." I licked my lips and he groaned.

Giving me a little shake, he said, "I'm not angry, I'm in love with you."

My eyes widened at his pronouncement.

"Love? How...we've never even talked before."

He released me and stood, paced back and forth along the center aisle, ran a hand through his hair. "Do you think this is the first time I've taken notice of you? I've watched you for months, ever since you moved to town

. I could see your marriage wasn't a love match, that you weren't happy. Next to shooting the man, there was nothing I could do to end your marriage, but the sheriff does not call for vigilante justice."