The Widow's Touch (A Whimsical Select Romance Novella) (5 page)

“So, he’s Reverend Tilden’s Mary, eh?” Jack asked as he walked to her.

“Oh, shame on you for eavesdropping,” Eloda smiled, and she playfully jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

“This room doesn’t
provide much space for privacy.”

“Yes,
I noticed that,” she said.  “And that brings me to ask what I’m to do about some privacy while here?  As I don’t wish to crinkle my dress whilst I sleep, I will find need to sleep in my chemise.”

H
e gazed down at her and his eyes looked as though they wanted to devour her.  She swallowed hard and wetted her dry lips.  She wasn’t sure what manner of thoughts she had placed within his mind, but she imagined they weren’t to be shared.

She realized her back
was pressed hard against the jail bars when Jack leaned towards her.  Her breath caught in her throat and she nearly sighed aloud.  The moment that she thought—no, hoped— he was going to reach out and kiss her, Jack reached around her and opened the cell door.

“You’re going to lock me up now
?” she asked, more than disappointed that she misread his intent.

“Not yet,” he
said.  He grinned as if he read her mind and knew her shameful thoughts of wanting him to kiss her.  “Just want to show you something,” he added.  He walked into the cell and reached for the folded bed linens that were neatly placed on the cot.  “I asked Frank to bring a few of these.  You can knot them on the top bars and make a privacy curtain.”

“And you,” she asked.  “Will you be staying the night here as well?”  She nodde
d toward the cot that was partially hidden by the separation wall. 

Jack
nodded his head and Eloda forced herself to release the pent up breath she held. 

“And Frank, your deputy, will he be here
too?” she asked. 

He
slowly shook his head from side to side. 

They’d be there alone, just him an
d her.  For some curious reason the thought made her nervous. 
He
made her nervous.  Eloda started feeling light on her feet and began taking slow, deep breaths.  When she did, Jack regarded her with a curious, raised brow.

“Th
at is a new look on you, Eloda,” he said.

“A new look?” she asked absently, still unsure if she felt scared or excite
d at the thought of spending the night alone with Jack Finley.

I believe this is the first I’ve seen you look…well,
fragile.”

“I’m far from fragile,” she quietly said, and
Eloda was nearly ashamed that her voice came out so weakly.

Jack leaned down and brushed a loosened hair
that strayed and made way across her face.  The touch of his finger as it grazed across her cheek caused shivers to surge through her.  His eyes smiled down at her and she felt as though the small room had instantly halved in size.

“Don’t worry,” Jack
said, and he softly lifted her chin with his finger.  “I’ll not tell anyone there’s glass to be broken beneath the stone,” he whispered.  He then winked and sealed his vow.  He stepped away and walked to his desk.  Sitting into the cane seat of his chair, he drew back his chair, propped up his feet atop the desk, an unfolded a newspaper.

And there he sat,
silent, until night fell.

Night had long fallen and Jack still sat at his desk
shrouded in papers and unshared thoughts.  He had said little to her other than when he asked if the meal Frank had brought them was to her liking.  Yet other than that, he remained distant and quiet for hours.

“I’m going to prepare myself for bed,” she said, quietly,
and she wasn’t sure if he heard.  She began attaching the sheets onto the bars when she noticed from the corner of her eye that he was looking at her.  His expression brightened and conquered the solemn look he had displayed most of the evening.

“I’ll give you some privacy,
” he finally said.  Jack gathered a cigar from a cherry wood box that sat on his desk and he walked to the front exit.  “I’ll just be right outside the door if you need anything.”

When the door closed, Eloda breath
ed out sharply.  She had been holding it since the moment she saw him watching her.  The man was making her daft.  Never before had she become such a dolt around a person, especially a man.  She always had the control, but with Jack Finley she felt as weak and innocent as a newborn kitten.

After the sheets were
placed on the bars, she removed her black mourning dress and pulled the pins from her hair.  She allowed her long, brown tresses to flow freely down her back.  Using the hair pins, she hung her dress from the bars and hoped the creases would flatten by morning. To accommodate the low neckline of her gown, her chemise’s collar hung low as well and exposed the ample mounds upon her chest.  The thin linen offered an unseemly view of her wares and Eloda knew she’d need to cover herself before the sheriff returned.  She looked around and searched for another sheet to use as a makeshift shawl, but there wasn’t one to spare. Instead, she rested on the narrow cot and covered herself with the woolen blanket.  It prickled against her fair skin, yet she gritted her teeth against the urge to scratch.

Eloda
heard the door open and a drift of aroma from his tobacco rushed her senses.  Each time she had seen him, he carried the spicy fragrance on his clothing and person, and she liked it.

“You all settled in
?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied
, and when he added nothing further, she followed it by saying, “Good night, Jack.”

He lowere
d the lamp’s flame and only slight flickers of light danced within her cell. After some time had passed, Eloda peeked around the sheets that hung against the bars and she looked for him.  He stood near the alcove that housed his cot and his figure silhouetted against the stone wall.  In silence, he remained unmoved for many minutes.  Eloda stayed deathly still and quiet and he must have thought her asleep.  When he finally stirred, she saw him remove his jacket and then he began the task of unbuttoning his shirt.  She realized that no amount of darkness could conceal the full masculine body he beheld beneath.  His shoulders were broad and when he moved toward his desk, a glimmer of light emphasized each well-developed ripple that was formed perfectly on his chest and stomach.  Heat rose within her and she inadvertently gasped by the sheer splendor of him.  He slowly turned and looked toward the sheets that draped loosely on her cell.  Embarrassed, Eloda quickly laid her head back onto her pillow.  She closed her eyes and desperately tried, without success, to remove the improper images and thoughts that formed in her mind.  She was bewildered by the maze of new sensations that had stayed quiet until that moment of seeing him.  She had never longed for a man’s touch, but the considerations that arose made her near to asking –no, begging –for him to take her into his arms.

But she didn’t.

“Are you all right,” he loudly whispered, his tone deep and pleasant.

Eloda didn’t reply
and hoped he would assume she was asleep.  She wasn’t sure if she had done so for the purpose of protecting her virtue against her desire’s will or if it was with hope he’d continue undressing and reveal more.  Oh, she hated how her thoughts made her feel so pathetic.   She wondered if the feelings that erupted within her were the same that her husbands had felt when they wooed her into bed.  She nearly felt apologetic for showing them such disinterest in the lover’s bed, as Jack was showing her while she laid there in need of his touch. 

She heard the snaps of his boots
as they tapped against the floor.  He was walking towards her and she pretended that she was asleep, but curiosity forced her to slightly open one eye.  He leaned against the inside opening of her cell door, his back turned against her.

“I know you’re awake,” he said softly.  “Your breath
s are way too erratic to be sleeping.” 

She heard the smile in his voice and
she blushed.  Looking at the muscular bulges upon his back that tapered to a fit, narrowed waist nearly caused her undoing.  She wondered if he had any idea what he was doing to her by standing there so close, so bare.  Yearnings that had built up from years of willful neglect were to blame, she reckoned.  Yet she was almighty mindful of it right then and it sought to be released.

“
Is it safe to turn around or are you indecent?” he asked.

Eloda sat up and wrapped the wool blanket over her shoulders and
properly covered herself.  She had a thought to show no modesty at all and entice him into wanting her, but she needed to show more propriety than that, even though her body heated with need for him to take her.

“I
’m decent,” she finally replied, and Jack turned around.  The dim light haloed around him and he was nearer to perfection than anything or anyone she’d ever seen. 

“You can’t sleep?” he asked
.  Jack raised his hand and showed her the canvases and paints that he had brought in from the wagon, and he sat them in the corner of her cell.

She nodded
her head and smiled, worried that her voice would fail her if she tried to speak.

“Are you still fretting over seeing the gallows being built?
  Is that why you can’t sleep?”  He walked closer and pointed toward the other side of the cot.  He silently sought her permission to sit and she quickly provided him an inviting wave towards the end of the bed.

“
Somewhat, but not about the dying part,” she said honestly.  “If it did come to my being hanged, I’d go without a struggle,” she assured.  “But I’m more worried about not dying straight away.”

Jack nodded his head.  It wasn’t an uncommon
occurrence, and considering his profession she suspected he had seen the dreadful spectacle more times than most.

“I
wouldn’t want to spend my last five minutes of life strangling to death,” she said in a shaky voice.  “It’s what I greatly fear more than anything.”

He reached for her hand and a shiver
coursed so fiercely within her that she visible trembled.  His touch was soft and warm and he tenderly stroked her palm with the tips of his fingers.  She wanted to press her hands against his bare chest and brush her hands along the smooth mountainous muscles that taunted her entire being.  Images of him kissing, touching, and taking her there on the cot worked her into a frenzy.  She tightly squeezed the blanket with her free hand and cursed inwardly at her unseemly musings of him. 

“I’ll be
gone for a while tomorrow,” he said.  “Frank will be staying with you until I get back.”  Jack continued to absently caress her hand.  “I’ve never been keen on the idea of women being hanged, especially when I’m doubtful of their guilt,” he further explained.

“Is it your plan to
leave and burn down their newly built gallows, Sheriff?” she asked with a smile.

“That’s a thought,” he said, and
he appeared to be in serious consideration of the option.  “I plan to go back to your house and see if there’s something that may clear you.”  He looked her in the eyes and studied her carefully.  “You employ more servants inside your home than any two people need, Eloda.  I’m hard pressed to believe that no one heard or saw something.”

“They d
idn’t,” she assured.  “It’s best you just mind your own and let them mind theirs,” she said and turned away from his examining gaze.

“C
learing your name or seeing justice served
is
my business, Eloda.”  He released her hand and eyed her suspiciously.  “Are you worried they’re going to talk?”  When she didn’t say anything, he turned and grasped her gently by the shoulders and made her look at him. “What are you hiding?” he pleaded, almost desperate for her cooperation.

Apprehension quickly built within her.
  She didn’t want to lie to him, but he was going to ruin everything.  “Those in my employ have no information for you to gain as there is no information to be had.”

Eloda
realized how close he was to her.  He was a breath’s reach from her face and an urge to place her mouth on his full lips was nearly her undoing.   She again subdued the impulse to reach out and stroke the expanse of his chest.  The physique he beheld was surely only reserved for the Greek gods she had read about.  Eloda believed he sensed her contemplations when he gazed down and searched her mouth with his eyes.  He leaned into her and his lips lingered dangerously close to hers.  The aroma of spice overtook her senses and she wanted to be completely engulfed and protected within his arms.  When his lips slightly grazed against hers, Jack hesitated and lowered his head.  He cursed under his breath. 

“
I’m sorry,” he breathed out heavily and pulled away from her.  “This isn’t something either of us should be considering.  Not now.”

Eloda didn’t want to stop.  Not when he was so close to
bringing out passions within her that she never thought existed.  She yearned to know how it felt to be bedded when she was an eager participant. The craving to find out overshadowed her sense of propriety.   Aside from that, if the town had their way, she’d be hanged soon.  And since a notion of passion had been sparked within her for the first time in her life, she didn’t want to die without experiencing love in all its splendid glory.