Joshua stood there for a long damn time, feeling empty. He desperately wanted to tug Beth forward and crush her in his arms, but he was afraid to, afraid of frightening her, afraid he might never let go. And if he forced her to stay, she would surely come to hate him with all the passionate depths she possessed. After their untamed loving in the cabin, he’d hesitated to ask her to marry him. He hadn’t wanted to prod her, or even make demands, he just wanted her to see that these rolling grasslands and prairies could be home and that he would always protect her.

Instead, he’d suppressed all his instincts, and because of the simple need that had burned in him to be softer for her, he'd allowed death onto his family's lands. Beth now believed herself to be a killer, when all Joshua had seen was courage and the defiant spirits of the women who lived on the frontier.

“I need to be with my son,” she whispered. “I need to hold Grayson.”

Her pain and uncertainty were etched on her face as if rendered by an artist’s brush. It gutted him to see it, especially knowing there was nothing he could do to remove it all from her. Joshua nodded, and tugged his shirt off, handing it to her. She was shivering. Her eyes widened, and he glanced down. There was blood on the material.

Her chin lifted. “No more blood.”

Looking into her proud, brave eyes, Joshua knew she would never stay in the west. He could give her time to recover from the violence that had shaken the core of her existence. And maybe she would wait for a few more months, but she would always hanker for a genteel life where the men wore suits, and talked business over coffee and cigars, and the women rode in elegant carriages, and took afternoon teas and indulged in midnight balls. And where men did not hunt her across hundreds of miles. And he loved her enough to want that life for her, one without fear, or any anxiety.

Without speaking, he tugged her into the cabin.

“Joshua please, I need to see Grayson, I need—”

“I need to take care of you,” he said quietly.

She closed her eyes, then nodded. He ushered her into the cabin and stripped the wet clothes from her. The room was cool, the fire he’d left burned down to coals. He grabbed a blanket and rubbed some warmth into her skin, hoping to remove the stains of blood that hadn’t been washed away. The last time he had seen her looking this wounded had been at Liberty. Joshua hated to see that dark shadow in her eyes again.

A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, and a rumble of thunder followed. The grass waved idly in the light wind, several birds chirped, and the sun tried to peek from behind bloated clouds. It all seemed so damn normal as if a brutal battle hadn’t taken place recently. She helped him as he bundled her into one of his shirts, the hem settling below her hips to her mid thighs.

It took them a while, but they made their way to the main house. The ranch hands along with his father had wasted no time rounding up the men and riding them into town at gunpoint. His father had also loaded the bodies on the wagon and would take them to the sheriff. Beth had taken Grayson into her arms, who chortled happily to see his mother. He was none the worse for wear, but she still sobbed and held him close to her. Joshua understood, he had felt like he lost his reason for existing when he had heard her scream and his son's piercing cries echoing through the mountains.

She took their baby and hurried up the stairs, and Kathy disappeared to her room as well. He thought to go after Beth, but what more could he say or do but give her solitude to process her experience, for the prospect of them was gone. His mother faced him with somber eyes. "She's leaving?"

“Yes,” he admitted gruffly.

Jenny had been reclining on the sofa, with her eyes closed, and at that bit of news, she straightened. “You’re letting her leave?”

“It’s what she wants.”

“Are you going to leave too?” she demanded through gritted teeth. “Wander off again for months?”

It struck him forcibly that this was about more than Bethany leaving. He glanced at his mother, and she too had her hands folded over her chest, a similar question in her eyes. “Jen—”

"Do you know that men from the Tumbling S ranch had the gall to rustle from our herd and I had to handle it? Do you know that I've been offered for three times?"

A rustling that Jenny had to handle? He could easily credit it, for she was a hellion. And he could also see why three men desired to marry her. "How did you handle it?"

Her eyes narrowed. “That is irrelevant, I am trying to make a point. You are hardly here. Elijah hasn’t been home in years, Noah is gone too, and it’s just me, Joshua.”

Her words jolted him. He and Elijah and Noah were only one year apart. As ma told it, Jenny was a surprise addition, appearing eleven years after her firstborn. They had all doted on her, and he supposed with all of them branching away from the ranch on which they had lived most of their lives it would be painful for her. She'd never expressed it before though, and he acknowledged then how the events of today would have rattled something inside of her too. A man had flung her on the ground, and though she had fought, there was a chance she would have been raped if he hadn’t come along then.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Come here, Jenny.”

She hurried over and flung herself into his arms. Her head rested on his chest, and he felt a trembling in her form. "I'm so damn sorry I allowed that bastard onto our ranch. I should have killed Abraham Hardin when I had the chance in Blue Lagoon. I knew where he’d been staying.”

"You're not a murderer." Her voice was muffled in his shirt. "And I'm glad Bethany didn't have to face that coward alone. She needs to know she has family who will fight for her."

Joshua tightened his hands briefly, loving his family even more for their warm acceptance of Beth in his life. "Now tell me how you handled the rustling, Jenny?"

She pulled from him and rolled her eyes. “That hardly matters. It was weeks ago.”

His mother lowered herself into the sofa closest to the roaring fire. “Instead of coming to your father, Jenny sneaked onto the Tumbling S, climbed into Caleb Callahan’s room and placed her gun under his chin. Ever since then Caleb has been making a fool of himself calling on her, and she's been ignoring him. It is only because she swears she only gave him a warning why your father has not insisted on a wedding."

A wedding?

His mother’s lips curved. “Our Jenny blushes something fiercely whenever his name comes up. It calls for speculation,” she drawled.

Joshua looked at his sister. Mortification burned her skin bright and, in her eyes, he spied knowledge that shouldn't be there. His sister though only eighteen years was lovely. "Is there something I need to kill Callahan for?"

Panic flared in her eyes and something more potent before she shuttered her gaze. Whatever the hell it was, it rocked Joshua back on his heels. She saw Caleb Callahan as a man, one she desired. His sister was no longer the sweet young girl he had taught to swim, shoot a six-shooter and rifle, how to hunt and rope cattle. Even staring at her now in breeches, her midnight black hair tumbling in wild disarray to her waist, her dark green eyes spitting fire. He had missed the evolution of the girl into the woman before him.

A different kind of sorrow pierced through him, and he rubbed at the spot of his chest that damn well ached.

“You don’t need to kill anyone. If that man had been inappropriate, I would have shot him then and there.”

Yet her cheeks were becoming redder under Joshua’s piercing regard. Unlike his father, he would be riding out to the Tumbling S soon.

“Joshua Kincaid, you wouldn’t dare,” she gasped, somehow interpreting his silence. “And we should be concentrating on a plan to stop Bethany from leaving. We all love her and Grayson, and we can see that you do too.”

His sister’s quiet supposition effectively distracted him. He stood there, unable to explain the tangle of emotions he felt about Beth. In fact, Joshua didn’t want to explain them. “I won’t force her,” he said gruffly. “She has to be willing, or I’ll always anticipate facing her hatred and disgust of bending her to the force of my personality. I know my character, and I know if I should choose to, I can be the wind that will break her.” How would he face the shadows in her eyes, the wounds of her heart?

"I have work to do," he said, fully intent on mounting his stallion with his rifle and scouting the range, assessing the tracks, to ensure no hidden dangers were lurking. He spun and walked away. Before he turned down the hallway, he said, "I don't plan to leave anytime soon, Jenny. And if I ever do, it won't be for months. A few weeks maybe."

* * *

It had taken them a few days before Beth, Kathy, and Joshua departed the triple K ranch. She had gone into town and sent a message to her mother in Boston, indicating that her arrival was imminent. While Beth had waited for the answering telegraph from her mother, Joshua had spent his time wrangling broncos and gently taming a group of wild stallions. She had watched him from her window, a massive boulder of grief, loss, and confusion pressing against her chest. In the nights she had cried, hoarse sobs of despair she hadn't been able to suppress. She wanted Joshua Kincaid with her entire soul, but she also wanted the promise of safety in a more civilized place. She was desperate for the comfort of her mother's bosom and the peace of walking down a street unmolested. More so, she wanted to flee from the memories that tormented her thoughts, the ones of her pushing her knife into that man's throat, the warm spray of blood on her body, and the remorseless way Joshua had ended Abraham’s life. What haunted her even more, was how right it had all felt, that dark burn of satisfaction.

Kathy had been all too happy to travel with her to Boston, her heart also craving for a different way of life. So, they'd taken several stages from Bravo to the town of Sheridan, Kansas—the place where she was to meet up with Mr. David Shaw, the son of the man to whom her mother was married. There they would take the train to Boston. The journey would be less stressful going forward with the Kansas Pacific Railroad.

The silence between her and Joshua had been painful, and on the few occasions they’d spent overnight at an inn, he had spent the time reading or telling stories to his son. Though he had been polite to her, there was a marked difference in how he looked at her. No longer did he find every reason to touch her. Nor did he look as if he was desperate to kiss and make love to her. Nor did he read to her anymore. And she understood, to be like that would only make their parting much harder than it already was. It had been so hard not to ask him to hold her. It was unfair, especially when she knew she could not give him what he wanted, what they both wanted. But Beth couldn't look at him and not want him.

They had arrived in Sheridan several minutes past. The view westward of the Bighorn Mountains was beautiful, but Beth barely noticed it. Her mind was only on Joshua leaving to return to the Kincaid ranch. Sheridan was a busy and prosperous town with work in logging and coal-mines in the vicinity. Although it was apparently expanding fast, it had none of the permanence and elegance of the big western cities like Boston and Pennsylvania. This was still a country town surviving on the arduous work of its inhabitants. Joshua had collected his stallion and tied him to the hitching post near the livery. Then with their small luggage swung over his shoulder, he walked with her and Kathy toward the hotel.

They entered the lobby of the hotel. A lady and a gentleman were at the front desk, and there was a man seated in a high back chair reading a freshly pressed newspaper. He glanced up, and the eyes that settled on her widened. Her hair had been pinned loosely atop her head, and several tendrils framed her face. She had dressed in a peach ruffled silk blouse, a dark green velvet skirt, with a matching hat perched atop her red curls. This man had no cause to ogle her in such a rude manner.

He surged to his feet, and Beth faltered when he strode over. He wore a broadcloth suit, ruffled shirt, and his shoes were shined enough to cast a reflection. He was handsome with his dark blond hair, squared jaw, and one of the bluest pair of eyes Beth had ever seen.

“Mrs. Bethany Hardin?”

How she hated even acknowledging that name. But her mother would have told everyone she was married.

“And you are?”

“David Shaw, my father sent me,” he said. Her stepbrother was a hotelier in Boston. It surprised Beth he had taken the time to be her escort. Mr. Shaw seemed unable to stop staring at her, for he did not acknowledge Kathy who stood with a sleeping Grayson or Joshua who was coolly assessing the few men in the lobby. In Mr. Shaw’s eyes, she saw a flush of desire that made her uncomfortable.

"Mr. Shaw, it's a pleasure to meet you." Beth held out her hand, a flush rising in her cheeks when instead of shaking it as she'd intended, he pressed a kiss to her hand. She pulled it away with a tight smile.

“It is my warmest pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hardin.” He took off his hat and bowed all gentlemanly charm.

“Please call me, Bethany.” It was quite familiar to offer him the use of her Christian name, but she couldn’t bear to be referred to as Mrs. Hardin.

“May I present my companion, Miss Kathy Higgins, and my son Grayson.”

His eyes dropped to the baby. “Ah yes, your mother mentioned you had a son.”

Was that distaste she heard in his tone? Undoubtedly it was her imagination. He sent a charming smile to Kathy, and she blushed.

Then Beth turned to Joshua. “And this is Joshua Kincaid.”

His pale eyes flicked to Joshua and lingered on the guns strapped to his hips. In the city, only lawmen wore weapons, and there was an air of danger that surrounded Joshua Kincaid. Beth didn't believe it to be deliberate. The gentleman before Beth was as polished as polished could get, whereas Joshua was dressed in black pants and dark gray shirt, a black neckerchief tied loosely around his throat. The light spilling through the high windows of the hotel lobby shadowed the hard, savage contours of his face.

Joshua tipped his hat. “Shaw.”

He nodded without responding to Joshua’s flat drawl. She hardly understood the tension that seemed to blanket the air.

“I’ll take the luggage, Mr. Kincaid,” David Shaw said. “And thank you for escorting—”

“No thanks necessary.” Joshua lowered the two small suitcases that held all hers and Grayson’s and Kathy’s belongings.

He had said his goodbyes to his son this morning at the inn, and now he only tipped his hat to Kathy. Then Joshua faced her. His eyes were colder and bleaker than anything she had ever seen before.

“I…we’ll come visit,” she said, biting her bottom lip to prevent the tears.

He made no answer, just turned and walked away. A cry almost broke from her throat at the pain that lanced through her heart. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin and faced Mr. Shaw. "I'm ready." She failed, for her voice trembled and Mr. Shaw arched an elegant brow.

His eyes were curious as he watched Joshua’s retreating back. Then Mr. Shaw nodded. “This way, please.”

They made their way from the lobby and headed through the town to the station.

She was led to a private car on the train which mighty impressed Kathy but left Beth unmoved. She was dwelling on how alone Joshua had seemed when he had walked away. Red fringed draperies, velvet portieres, and thick wall-to-wall carpets decorated the carriage. The table was laden with an elegant meal that Bethany might have expected in one of Boston’s best restaurants. Fine linen covered their table which was strewn with sparkling porcelain, silver and crystal glasses holding a fine red wine. Uniformed waiters hovered to do their bidding. The seats were well padded and comfortable, but Bethany was conscious that Kathy and Grayson had been hustled elsewhere.

“My dear Bethany,” a warm voice said, the man producing a silk handkerchief. “Is all well?”

It was then she realized silent tears were streaming down her face. “Forgive me, the last few days have been rather stressful. I believe I shall retire to my cabin, Mr. Shaw.”

“Please call me, David. We are family.”

She nodded, attempted to smile and failed miserably. David summoned the conductor, and she was escorted to a likewise elegantly appointed cabin. Kathy had apparently been given a room adjacent to Beth's, and the girl had taken Grayson, and one of the books Joshua had gifted her with them. In Beth's cabin, there was a small well-padded bed in the left corner, and closing the door firmly, she climbed onto the bed and pressed her face into the pillow.

The train had already rumbled into motion, and just feeling the grind of the track beneath her filled her with such despair she trembled.

I'm leaving.

It should have been a cause for celebration, she had yearned for the more civilized east for a very long time. But all Beth felt was the rending of her heart and the discomforting absence of Joshua Kincaid.

Several days later, Beth crossed the threshold of one of the most elegant townhouses she'd ever seen. Stone steps led up to double doors a little above ground level. The construction was mostly from fine red brick, but the front doors had stone pillars and classical surrounds. The frontage seemed to be mostly brilliantly illuminated windows, showing that no expense was spared. Half windows beneath the ground floor indicated that the kitchens and servant's quarters were elegantly appointed. Three generous stories including attics were above the basement level. Her mamma had married a wealthy hotelier in Boston. One of the best she'd said and his connections were powerful. That was how Beth had been offered the job as a teacher at a very upscale private girl's academy without submitting even a reference for past work.

Anxiety knotted her stomach. She hadn’t seen her mother in so long and how many nights she had buried her face in her sheets and sobbed for her comforting arms. Grayson wiggled in her arms, his face scrunching, and it was then she realized how tightly she held him.

“Would you like me to hold him?” Kathy asked holding out her arms.

“No, I have him,” Beth murmured, trying to calm the nerves fluttering in her stomach.

The sounds of their heels echoed on the marble floor, and her heart was a dull thud in her ear. She heard nothing as David spoke with the butler, Beth’s entire being was concentrated on the woman who now rounded the corner.

Oh, Mamma. How glorious Elizabeth Shaw seemed. Her dark red hair was piled atop her head in an elegant chignon, and she wore a high-necked, yellow-and-white-striped buttoned blouse with matching skirt, and her dark-blue eyes glowed with a warm welcome…and tears. Still, she was the picture of refined elegance. Her mother’s hand fluttered to her throat, and with a watery laugh, she rushed forward. “Oh Sweetheart, I have been longing for this day,” she said, her southern drawl almost eclipsed by more clipped accents.

Beth moved to meet her, uncaring of the tears streaming down her face. “Oh Mamma, how I’ve missed you.”

Her mother tried to hug her, but Grayson was having none of it. He broke out into a babble of excited chatter that drew her mother’s gaze to him.

“Oh, how handsome he is,” she said, running a finger down his cheeks. “What a beautiful boy.”

She looked up at Beth, smiling, and then looked behind her to Kathy. Beth made swift introductions, and her mother warmly greeted the young girl who seemed struck by the opulence of the townhouse. Her mother ushered them into the parlor and rang for refreshments.

A cot was brought down for Grayson, and she glanced at her mother.

“I ordered it the instant you said you were coming to Boston, sweetheart. It has been here for a week.”

Beth smiled. "Thank you." It was difficult for her to admit the dire straits of her finances. She had already eaten into a portion of her funds by paying Kathy six months' salary in advance and buying the girl a few new clothes. And Beth wanted to secure some schooling for the girl if she was interested. She only wanted to gather her bearings and settle in before she broached the subject.

The door opened, and a slightly large, imposing man entered. Beth presumed this was Mr. Emmet Shaw. He was shockingly handsome, and right away she saw where David inherited his good looks.

“I’ve wanted to meet my daughter,” he said warmly, coming over to her. “Welcome! Welcome to Boston, my dear.”

Daughter? He was presumptuous, but Beth found that she didn’t mind it.

“Mr. Shaw, I’m very pleased to meet you,” she said smiling.

He gathered her in a brief hug, surprising her.

"Your mother is thrilled you are here my dear, and so am I."

“Thank you for having me.”

His manners were as neatly tailored as his clothing, and the way he gazed upon her mother spoke of a man truly enamored. Beth smiled. At least her mother was happy with her lot in life. The war had taken a lot from her, especially that fine plantation house in Virginia which she had so loved. Her mother had been a sought-after socialite in Virginia, and it seemed she had landed amongst the elite as well in Boston.

“Oh, darling when I got the news that your husband had died. How sad you must have been,” her mother said, “Benjamin Hardin had been a fine man.”

She was saved the necessity of a reply as Grayson started to fuss.

“And who is this handsome young man?” Mr. Shaw asked, peering down into the cot.

“Mamma, Mr. Shaw, may I present my son, Grayson Ki…” She faltered, and her mother threw her a questioning glance. “Grayson Kincaid Hardin,” she said, hating that any part of her son had that man’s name. But she would never be able to tell her mother of the kind of life she had endured west.

She then introduced Kathy who was also greeted warmly. David Shaw joined them in the parlor, and the next couple of hours blurred as she laughed and chatted with her mother and her new family. It should have been the most pleasant of times, and she should have been happy, but it took everything from Beth to pretend contentment when she had a hole in her heart that she was beginning to fear would never be filled.