The Widowed Bride

He’d found the evidence he was looking for. But pinning the crime on the responsible parties would take time and luck. Thaddeus Wilton’s interest in the house made him a likely suspect. But even if the mayor was guilty, he probably wasn’t acting alone. His son could have a hand in the dirty business, as well. So could any number of people in this close-knit little town.

And what about Ruby?

Had she known about the stash? Had she been prepared to take action if he found it? Ethan remembered how she’d sat with her hands folded, watching him like a cat as he lifted the furniture away from the wall. Only the arrival of visitors upstairs had kept her from being here when he found the whiskey.

Was she involved, or had she simply stumbled into a bad situation? Ethan had no proof either way. He was certain of only one thing.

He’d be a fool to let the woman out of his sight.

Chapter Three

Closing the door behind her guests, Ruby sank onto a chair with a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that the mayor and his son had behaved improperly. In fact, they’d been perfect gentlemen. But she wasn’t used to dealing with unexpected company. Back in Springfield, the family butler would have answered the door, taken the visitor’s card and checked to make sure Mrs. Rumford was receiving callers that day. If she wasn’t up to socializing—more often than not because she was nursing bruises—she would have the luxury of being “indisposed,” and no one would think the worse of her for it.

Those days were gone forever, Ruby reminded herself. Dutchman’s Creek was a small town, and she was no longer the socially prominent Mrs. Hollis Rumford. She was a struggling widow, newly arrived and in need of friends. The sooner she got used to that reality the better.

And the sooner she got this wreck of a house in shape, the sooner she could start renting out rooms and bringing in some income.

Rising, she seized a broom and began sweeping up the glass from her earlier mishap. First she would get the parlor looking presentable. Then she’d take the time to scrub down her own room, put clean linens on the bed, unpack her clothes and set out her personal toiletries. That would allow her to change and freshen up before having dinner at the hotel, and to fall exhausted into bed when she returned.

Would Ethan be spending the night here? The thought of him lying upstairs, alone in the darkness, sent a freshet of heat through her body. She remembered the velvety roughness of his voice, the sensual parting of his lips as he’d leaned toward her. She could almost imagine…

But she was fantasizing like a schoolgirl. Ethan was a stranger and she was a lady, whatever that was supposed to mean. Nothing would happen between them, not even if she wanted it to. Ruby knew herself all too well. Let a man get too close and she would turn to ice in his arms. It had happened last year with a charming Dutch businessman she’d met in Europe. He’d soon lost patience with her and gone his way. Professor Ethan Beaudry would be no different.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Ethan strode in through the kitchen, carrying a battered table with one crooked leg. His face, arms and clothes were smudged with dust. Ruby willed herself to ignore the quickening of her pulse. “Is that the best table you could find?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It’ll do if I brace the leg. Did you see anything else you wanted from down there?”

Ruby realized she’d paid scant attention to the furniture in the cellar. “Nothing that can’t wait. No use bringing anything else upstairs until the rooms are clean.”

He glanced around the parlor. “Your visitors didn’t stay long,” he commented. “Did you drive them off with that broom?”

A twitch of his eyebrow confirmed that he was teasing her. Ruby couldn’t be sure whether she liked it or not. “It wasn’t supposed to be a long visit,” she said curtly. “The mayor and his son just stopped by to welcome me to town and invite me to dinner this evening.”

“Oh? Do they do that for every newcomer, or just for the pretty ones? No one here has invited me to dinner.”

“Maybe they would have if you’d come upstairs and introduced yourself instead of hiding in the cellar like a grumpy old troll!”

His rough laugh startled her. “Ruby, I’m your tenant,” he said. “That doesn’t give me the right to come barging in when you have company. I’ll introduce myself to the mayor another time, on my own terms.”

“You strike me as a man who does most things on his own terms.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?” He had lowered the table and appeared to be studying her, taking her measure with those fathomless gold-flecked eyes. What was he seeing? Pride? Vulnerability? Shame and fear? All those things were there, locked deep inside her. The past eleven years had taught Ruby to keep her emotions hidden. But no part of her seemed safe from his penetrating, curiously gentle gaze.

She felt as if he was probing into her soul—and the only response she knew was to fling up barriers.

“You can take it any way you like.” She turned away from him and resumed sweeping the floor, plying the broom like a weapon.

“Careful,” he teased. “The way you’re handling that poor old broom, you could break it.”

She stopped sweeping and glared at him. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Now that you mention it…” Ethan picked up the table again, turned toward the stairs, then paused.

“If there’s nothing else you need, I’ll start on my own room,” he said. “The mattress could use a good whaling.”

“Fine.” Ruby resumed her sweeping. “When you’re finished I’ll find you some clean sheets and a quilt for your bed.”

“No hurry. I’ll be staying at the hotel tonight.”

Surprised, she glanced up at him. Only then did she remember what she’d said to him in the cellar. Had he taken her at her word? Heaven save her, had she wanted him to sleep here tonight?

“My hotel room is already paid for,” he said. “Might as well not waste the money. There’ll be plenty of time to move in here tomorrow—that is, if you haven’t thrown me out by then.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Ruby scooped the broken glass into a dustpan. In truth, she’d been a bit nervous about spending her first night alone in the old house. But surely her fears were groundless. What could possibly happen to her in a quiet place like Dutchman’s Creek?

“Will you be all right here alone?” Ethan asked. “If you’re worried, I’d be glad to offer you my hotel room—gratis, of course. I can always bunk here.”

“I wouldn’t think of putting you out! Don’t concern yourself. I’ll be fine.”

He shifted the table higher against his shoulder. “You’re sure? I’m not one to argue with a lady.”

“Quite sure, thank you.” Ruby emptied the dustpan and started on 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.