Her mind conjured up the details of that night. She recalled her screams, her shock and fear when she’d seen Ned holding a knife on Boone.
“Get back in the house,” Ned had said, tossing her a glance, his voice rough and somber.
Glory had stood in the doorway frozen with fright.
Boone had taken that instant to lunge at Ned, probably never quite believing his brother would really use the knife. A fight ensued and Glory had found herself mixed up in it. She’d tried to help Boone, but Ned had taken a quick swipe at her, throwing her down to the ground and knocking her out.
When she’d woken up, couldn’t have been more than a few seconds later, she was surrounded in blood. Boone’s blood. She had screamed at the sight of his lifeless body next to hers. She had screamed at the injustice. She couldn’t stop. The sound of her screams was so shocking, even to her ears, that she no longer heard them.
Ned had hoisted her up. He had put a hand over her mouth and dragged her inside the house. She recalled now how badly her face had hurt from the blow she’d taken. “Shut up,” he’d said, “and I might let you live.”
That’s when Ned had made his proposition to her. He told her all about the riches his brother had been too lazy to mine, all of the riches that they could share. He told her, in no uncertain terms, he wanted her, and all the while Glory had resisted, shaking her head, backing away, unable to believe any of this nightmare was really happening.
She had made a dash out the front door, screaming for help. It was late at night and they had no neighbors close by. Ned had caught up to her, furious at her escape attempt. He began calling her horrible names. She’d never seen a man with such fury in his eyes. And now she remembered how he’d slapped her, again and again, until her legs would no longer
hold her, until her body could no longer withstand the pain.
It was all she remembered until she’d woken up in a strange bed, with a strange man tending her wounds.
Her mind snapped back to the present. She shoved the front door harder, but it was far too late. Ned had succeeded in wedging his way in. The next thing she knew, he stood in front of her with the door shut behind him. Trapped, her heart raced, but this time Glory knew better than to try to overpower or outrun him. She had to outsmart him and it would take every ounce of courage she possessed tempered with restraint and wisdom to stay alive.
“What do you want?” she asked, tamping down her revulsion. Ned Shaw had become the devil in her mind. She couldn’t look him in the eyes without seeing thick bright blood.
Ned took a long leisurely look at her, taking in the hair that had come loose from her braid, the thin white nightgown she wore, covered by Ruby’s audacious red shawl. His penetrating gaze unnerved her, but she stood her ground, unwilling to show any fear.
“You’ve changed,” he said, and she didn’t miss the note of suspicion in his tone. “Still a beauty, but something’s different about you.”
Glory turned her back on him and walked toward the fireplace. She couldn’t believe she acted so casually with a coldblooded killer, but this was her only chance for escape. She knew firsthand the pain Ned could inflict if angered. She hated him with every breath she took, but she didn’t dare show that hatred.
“Yes, I’ve changed,” she said. “Losing a father and a husband will do that to a woman.”
Ned approached her, coming within inches of her
face. She bolstered her courage while trying to ignore her terror at having him so near.
“You didn’t love Boone.”
His accusation numbed her. No, she knew that she hadn’t loved Boone. She’d always known that in her heart, but never so clearly as right now. “He was my husband.”
“He was lazy and stupid,” Ned snarled. “He didn’t deserve you.”
He didn’t deserve to die at the hands of his brother, Glory thought grimly, but she kept her expression mild.
Ned narrowed his eyes. “Tell me, when you opened the door just then, there was more than shock on your face. There was recognition. I saw it in your eyes.”
Glory glanced out the window briefly. She couldn’t help wondering where Steven was but she didn’t dare alert Shaw that he might be showing up soon.
“I had amnesia. I couldn’t remember anything.”
“Until you saw me, right?”
She closed her eyes, warding off the images that caused her anguish. “Yes. When I saw you standing there, it triggered my memory. I remember everything now.”
She glared at him now, unable to hide her disdain and disgust. “You murdered Boone and wanted everyone to believe I’d killed him.”
“It was a good plan,” he said smugly.
“And then what?”
“And then I file on your claim. I get legal rights to the strike I found.”
A shiver ran down her spine and the chill stayed with her. Glory backed away from him slowly, making
her steps seem normal when every instinct she possessed told her to run. Shaw had reason to want her dead. She glanced out the window once more, hoping for a sign of Steven.
“He’s not coming.”
“W-what?” She whirled around to face him completely. Deadly intent was written on Shaw’s face. He glared at her and she witnessed the truth in his eyes.
“Harding. He’d dead by now.”
“No!” Glory’s hand flew to her chest. She felt as if all of her blood drained from her body. “He’s not dead.”
She refused to believe it.
“He’s not coming to save you, Gloria Mae.”
Glory lowered herself down onto the sofa slowly, as if she were floating in some strange dream. She’d never known such pain. Even Ned’s beating hadn’t left her with this much hurt. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She put her face in her hands and cried silently. Buddy curled up against her, his little body acting as a shield, a cushion to the dreadful pain she experienced.
“Very touching,” Ned said with no remorse, giving her little time to grieve. “But now that he’s out of the way, I have to decide what to do with you. You see, you’re the one person who knows the truth about me. I should probably kill you.”
He scratched his head lightly as if pondering something as mundane as what he should eat first, the peas or carrots on his plate. Glory glanced at the weapon holstered on his right hip. He had yet to draw his gun. She posed no threat to him in his mind, and up until this point Glory wouldn’t have thought so, either.
But as she shoved aside the agonizing truth about
Steven’s death, she began formulating a plan. For Steven, because of the many times he’d protected her. For the shelter he’d given her and the kindness and tenderness she’d only known with him, Glory decided to fight for her life. She decided to avenge Steven’s death or die trying.
It was worth a try, she mused, because Ned Shaw wasn’t a compassionate man. He wouldn’t grant her mercy. He wouldn’t allow her to live, unless he had something to gain from it.
She recalled the night Boone died, summoning up images of Ned’s hands on her, trying at first to seduce her, trying to bend her to his will. Glory had fought him off, repulsed by his actions, disgusted by his intentions. She’d angered him with her blatant rejection. His vile temper emerged and she’d almost died at his hands.
Tonight, she’d have to become a different woman. With the lessons she’d learned from the Rainbow girls, Glory would play the most serious game of her life, hoping to come out the winner.
Glory banked her tears. With resolution, she stood and purposely allowed the crimson shawl to fall from her shoulders. She pressed the material around her body, allowing the shawl to slowly drape down, caressing her curves.
Ned’s eyes flashed immediately. She’d sparked his interest. But he wasn’t a fool and Glory had to play this perfectly, or she’d become another of his victims. “You don’t want to kill me.”
His mouth twisted and Glory knew a moment of trepidation. “Why not?”
“Because I remember what you really wanted the night you…the night Boone died.”
“Yeah? And what did I want?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
Glory took a step toward him. Heart pounding hard, she ran her hand down her throat and then farther until her fingertips caressed the swell of her breast. She smiled, hoping to appear seductive. Judging by Ned’s intense gaze, she might have succeeded. In a breathy whisper, she answered, “Me.”
Suddenly and without warning, Ned grabbed her arms, pulling her to him. She tamped down her fear, denying him a struggle and hoping to convince him that this is what she wanted. “You didn’t want that then, why should I believe you now?”
Lust made his eyes gleam. He stared at her with wary impatience. His hot breath on her face repulsed her.
“I—I—” she began, praying for inspiration. Then, as if she’d been struck by divine guidance, a thought emerged instantly and she knew exactly how to reach him. A greedy man might understand another’s greed. “I’ve got nothing. And no one. My father is gone. Boone is dead. The man who’d sheltered me is also g-gone.” How she hated saying those words. “I’ve no money, no home. I lived with your brother in poverty. It’s time I took something for myself. We would be rich. We’d have everything.”
Glory gazed into Ned’s eyes and nodded. “We could have it all,” she whispered. “You and me.”
She smiled once again.
He released her arms and stepped back, assessing her. Desire warred with disbelief. Glory saw his indecision, and worried that he didn’t believe her.
She let the shawl drop entirely from her body and began unbuttoning her nightgown. Two buttons at the
very top came undone. It was all she’d allow for now. She ran her tongue along the edges of her mouth with slow and calculated deliberation.
Ned arched his brows.
Glory played the part of a temptress the best way she knew how. She’d had a lesson a while back from Julia that she’d never forgotten.
“You willing to prove it to me?” he asked, his voice taking on a raspy whisper.
Glory swallowed, drawing air into her lungs in increments. With more boldness than she believed she possessed, she turned her back on him and walked slowly toward the bedroom. “Why don’t you come in here and find out?”
She heard the scrape of Ned’s footsteps on the floor behind her. He followed her into the bedroom. Glory stopped when she reached the right side of the bed by the night table. She turned to him and smiled.
Ned stood on the other side of the bed, a far enough distance away for Glory’s sensibilities. She couldn’t bear for him to touch her again.
Dark, hungry eyes roved over her body. Glory suppressed a shudder. “If this is a trick, I’ll kill you with my bare hands,” he warned with a low voice seemingly laced with more desire than suspicion.
Glory undid the rest of the buttons on her nightgown. Slowly, she shifted the material off her shoulders. “This is no trick.”
She let the nightgown fall from her body, exposing the thin cotton chemise she wore underneath. Ned’s sharp intake of breath told her she held his full attention…and she had him off-guard. She wished he would remove his gun belt, but to ask would only arouse his suspicion.
“You gonna stand there all day, or get into this bed?” He rubbed at his groin, his manhood apparent, pressing against his trousers.
Perspiration rose up on her body, although not from heat but stark cold fear. Glory managed a coy smile. “We’re going to have a long night in this bed,” she said, then glanced at the Bible on the nightstand. “Oh dear.” She showed Ned the Bible Carmen had given her. “This part of my life is over now. Just let me tuck this away.”
She reached down to hide the Bible under the mattress and in one swift move, came up with her gun. She pointed the army revolver straight at Ned’s heart.
Chapter Eighteen
G
rim determination kept Steven alive. He managed to unbind his hands in the seconds before the mine collapse, allowing him a means to get farther away from the blast. It wasn’t ingenuity on his part that freed his hands, but more Shaw’s smug certainty that Steven wouldn’t survive. His wrists hadn’t been bound tight enough to begin with and he’d worked feverishly at them whenever Shaw wasn’t looking.
Steven barely escaped the explosion that brought down the walls of the mine. He’d made a dash toward the interior of the mine once he’d freed his legs of their bindings. The explosion had thrown him at least the length of his body, but he rose from the ground, unscathed for the most part.
Now, as he stood in the tunnel, darkness engulfed him. He coughed violently, his lungs filling with the soot enveloping the air. Layers of dust floated down, covering his clothes like winter’s first snow. Steven caught his breath momentarily and then another wave of heavy coughing erupted.
Shaw may have been right. Maybe he’d never survive this. He didn’t see how he could find his way
out of the rubble, but sheer doggedness on his part wouldn’t let him give up hope.
Once the dust settled and his coughing ebbed, he worked his way with arms stretched out, walking as a blind man would, toward the front of the mine. A glimmer appeared, the tiniest ray of moonlight acted as a beacon as his eyes made their quick adjustments.
The plug of rock that shored up the face of the mine wasn’t complete. Steven sent up a prayer of thanks. “Hallelujah.” And he thought of Glory and the faith she was certain she had lost. If she could see this, the slightest crevice opening to the right side, perhaps only a mouse could manage, her faith would be renewed instantly. Steven saw the light reaching in from the other side. He’d have to work swiftly, but with utmost care so as not to disturb the pattern of tiered rock that fit together like a large intricate puzzle, to create space enough for him to slither through.
He worked carefully as he calculated which rock to pull and when. It seemed a dauntingly slow task, when his mind and heart raced to get home to Glory. Not soon enough, the gap had been dug and Steven hoisted himself up, snaking his way through to the other side.
Fresh crisp air nearly choked Steven’s lungs. But after a time, his breathing regulated again and he headed out on foot toward town. As much as he’d like to reach the ranch, he would never make it on foot. Again, he cursed his bad decision to favor Black Cloud tonight. Fancy would’ve been the wiser choice. She wouldn’t have spooked so easily, alerting Shaw to his whereabouts. And she might very well have been waiting outside the mine for him, once he managed his escape.