A Man for Glory. Carolyn Davidson

around her shoulders, tugging her closer to him. His other hand moved slowly to rest against her waist, and for a moment she felt enclosed, captured by his big body in front of her, the stove behind. She tilted her head back, and without a pause he bent to her, his mouth touching hers carefully, brushing the tender flesh with a kiss of promise. His words were a whisper.

      “One thing you need to understand, Glory. When I’ve said the words in front of a preacher, I won’t be sleeping in the bedroom at the back of the house. You can choose where, but you’ll be next to me and I’m thinking we’ll both fit into your bed.”

      His breath was fresh, his words spoken softly, as if he would not chance the children hearing him. And then he kissed her again, less of a testing caress, more of a demand for her mouth to welcome his, to return the brush of lips, to accept the promise of intimacy to come.

      Glory had never known a man’s touch in such a way, for as a young girl, she’d been protected, though she had known young men and even danced with several while her parents looked on. But none had strayed beyond friendship. She’d never been offered the kisses of a man courting a young woman. She trembled beneath his hands—not with fear, for she did not distrust Cade, but with uncertainty. His hands were careful of her, not gripping her tightly, and she knew he would release her if she demurred and stepped away from him.

      “Cade?” Even to her own ears her voice sounded wary, uncertain. And from Cade’s grin, she suspected he was aware of her flustered state.

      “I won’t hurt you, Glory. I’ll never do anything to cause you pain or give you reason to fear me.”

      She nodded. “I’m not afraid of you. I just feel … sort of shaky right now. I think you’d better go sit down at the table and let me get supper on.”

      His grin did not depart from his lips as he obeyed her, pulling out his chair and then watching as she found plates and silverware to set the table. She unwrapped the last of the bread, a loaf she’d baked two days ago that was almost stale. It would be time to set a batch to rise in the morning.

      She cut the bread and placed the slices on a plate, then found a fresh jar of jam in the pantry. “Our meal will be a little sparse, I fear. I’ll make up for it tomorrow though,” she said as she finished putting the food together and carefully lifted the lid of her big kettle on the stove.

      The dumplings had risen to the top of the kettle and she touched one with the tip of her index finger, testing it for firmness. “I think these are done. I’ll call the children in to eat.” And in all her fussing and fluttering around the kitchen, she’d been careful to keep her eyes averted from him, as if she dared not meet his gaze.

      Cade felt a wash of desire sweep through him. Not the carnal lust he’d felt in the past for a woman when he’d gone through a long dry spell without a female body to hold close in his bed. This was different, for she appealed to him to the depths that craved a woman of his own.

      It was a yearning he’d never experienced, Cade had never thought of any woman in such a way until he’d met Glory, for his job had always come first with him. But it seemed that the way to achieve his goal now was to enter into a marriage. Living here was looking better all the time.

      The children came to the table and he watched them closely. Saw the smile Essie shot in Glory’s direction, noted the gentle touch of Glory’s hand on Buddy’s shoulder as he settled into his chair. They were secure in her love and it showed.

      The four of them sat around the table, the steaming kettle of stew in the middle, and Cade bowed his head. He hadn’t prayed in a long time, only shot small petitions upward as he thought of those he’d loved in his lifetime. His mother and stepfather, still at home in Oklahoma, the friends he’d left behind when he set out to find his own niche in life. But the prayer he offered for their food came easily to him and he spoke the words he’d often heard his stepfather say before meals back home.

      Though this was all a part of his mission here, finding the gold would be an easier chore to tackle once he was living in the house. Being settled here was a good feeling, he decided, and he had much to be thankful for, not least of which was the meal before him. One of many meals he would eat here with Glory and the children, who seemed fated to be a large part of his life.

      It was not a surprise that the sheriff paid them a visit the next day, for Glory had expected him to be at her door, checking up on Cade, looking in on her and the children. He was a good man and she knew he felt a sense of responsibility for her, after having dropped Cade into her life as he had.

      “Have you read the papers Mr. McAllister gave you, Mrs. Clark?” he asked her.

      Glory nodded in reply and smiled. She’d been pleased by the facts laid out in the legal documents she’d perused. Cade appeared to be all he’d promised, honest, diligent and possessed of enough ready cash to invest in the farm as he’d promised to do.

      “Have you reached any sort of arrangement between you?” the lawman asked, turning to Cade, but asking the question of both the man and woman before him.

      “We’re still on speaking terms, so I suspect we’ll iron things out before long,” Cade said with a grin.

      “For now, he’s sleeping in the barn and working on fencing and such,” Glory said.

      Cade nodded. “I’m thinking about fencing the pasture. I figure with Buddy’s help and a posthole digger, I can put in enough fencing to keep the animals closed in. We’ll see how it goes.”

      “I’ll check back with you, McAllister. Just wanted to make sure that Mrs. Clark had read your credentials and was aware of your plans.”

      It seemed that the man’s life was an open book, Glory decided. The sheriff was prone to trust him, and so, she decided with surprise, was she.

      Glory finished her chores in the kitchen and went to the porch, settling on the small rocker there. She’d used this chair when she snapped beans and shelled peas while she rocked back and forth, watching the comings and goings of Mr. Clark.

      And now it looked as if Cade would be a fixture on the place, and she could keep track of him while she did her busywork. She wouldn’t guarantee anything about a wedding in the next few days, but she was leaning in that direction. And more than willing to let him have his way with the stock and the pasture. As for herself, she had enough to do. Her garden was coming in well, the peas ready to pick, the carrots showing above the ground and her beans blossoming, promising a good crop.

      She’d planted three long rows already, for her father had told her years ago that planting beans every two weeks would give them beans for the whole of the summer. And so Glory had done as he’d instructed in those long-ago days of her youth. Every two weeks until mid-July, she planted beans and every two weeks once they were ready to pick, she had a crop to cook or can up in jars.

      Her father had taught her well and she’d listened, planting and hoeing, weeding and picking the harvest of vegetables her mother put up in blue Mason jars. Now she canned her own food, thankful for the upbringing she’d had back in Pennsylvania.

      She looked up, wrenched from her thoughts as Cade walked to the porch and sat on the steps. “I want to thank you, Cade. I appreciate your working with Buddy and spending time with him in the barn and with the animals.”

      Cade rose from the steps and walked to stand before her, his hands touching her shoulders. He bent low, turning her face to him. His lips pressed softly against her cheek, then brushed the tender lines of her mouth, a kiss of comfort.

      “You’ve had a tough time of it, Glory. If I can, I’ll make things a bit easier for you.” His grip on the fragile bones he held within his grasp was light, but the warmth of his palms was welcome and Glory fought back tears as she rose to stand before him.

      “I don’t mean to be weepy, Cade. I’m usually pretty well in control of myself, but something about having you here, maybe just having a man about the place, seems to give me comfort.”

      But it was more than comfort that she sought, for she had to admit to herself