The Widows Choice by Hildie McQueen Page B

off at the train station half a day's ride away.
    His friend had moped since finding out Mary Ellen was leaving and Rafe thought it interesting.  He'd never known Jerrick to become attached to a woman until this one.  In his opinion, when Mary Ellen returned, something would blossom between the two.
    Things however remained the same between him and Charlie.  At suppertime, most days she joined them and did not seem ill at ease around him.  The same was not true for him.  Each time she brushed her hair back with her hand, he imagined how those same fingers had dug into his shoulders. 
    When she spoke, the timber of her husky voice sent him back to the sounds she'd made when they'd kissed.  A type of purr that had made his toes curl. 
    If ever her eyes met his, he recalled how bright they'd become when she'd looked down at him while perched on his chest.  And that in itself is what kept him up most nights.  The thought of the weight of her body over his.  Even with a rock digging into his backside, the feel of her suppleness had felt right.  Perfect even.
    He grumbled, turned sideways and punched at the roll under his head.  Damn if only he'd not spoken the words.  Had waited to think things through before blurting out and telling her it was best to pretend what happened had not.  Instinctively, he'd wanted to protect himself, figuring she'd try to let him down easy.  Her reaction had astonished him.  It was as if he'd hurt her, not made things easier.  Now it was too late, it wasn't as if he could go back and undo it.
    Warm air wafted through the window, not enough to cool him down.  With a soft curse, he got up and stalked to the front door.  He went outside and circled the main house.  Rafe told himself he ensured all was well, but in truth he hoped to catch a glimpse of Charlie. 
    The light was on and he could look through the window into the front room.  She sat at a chair before the fire, in her lap a book.  But she did not look at the pages, instead, her gaze was fixed at the flames.  When she shuddered and wiped her eyes, his chest constricted.  Of course, she cried tonight.  Her friend was gone.  Rafe rapped softly on the window pane and she turned.
    Charlie got to her feet and rushed to the door throwing it open.  "Is something wrong?" Her wide reddened eyes met his.  He'd never seen anything more beautiful.
    "No.  I couldn't sleep and since you were up hoped I could come in and make some tea or something.  Would it be all right?"
    She looked behind her to the chair where her shawl lay across the arm of it.  "Yes, of course.  I—I am not dressed, but I suppose it's all right." Awkward, she took a couple steps back to allow him in.
    When he stepped through the doorway, she remained still, her eyes downcast.  Rafe's chest constricted at the sadness she exuded.  Before he could think otherwise, he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her.  "Mary Ellen will be back before you know it." He told her unable to keep from pressing a kiss to the top of her head.  "You'll see."
    Her arms went around his waist and she laid her head on his chest. At her shuddering sigh, it was obvious how much she missed this, being held.  Touched.
    "It's so much," she said her voice muffled by his clothes.  "I am tired."
    Rafe cupped her chin and lifted her face to him.  "It's understandable you feel that way tonight.  But it's not so bad."
    "I suppose maybe I'll feel better in the morning."
    Long lashes clumped together by tears and the slight redness to her pert nose only made her more beautiful.  Rafe lowered his mouth to hers, pressing against her lips as softly as he could asking permission.
    With a release of breath she granted it and deepened it, pushing up to her toes to kiss him harder.  Her lips parted and he slipped his tongue in, sliding to touch hers.
    Charlie splayed her fingers against his back and pushed her body against his.  The action sending currents of heat through