Wolf Creek Widow (Wolf Creek, Arkansas Book 4) by Penny Richards

down.
    With a sigh she wasn’t even aware of, Meg tucked her feet under her and thumbed through the book, looking for a story world to fill her mind and enable her to escape reality for a few moments.
    She chose “Cinderella,” one of Teddy’s least favorites but one she suspected Lucy would love as she grew older. Wasn’t the idea of being rescued and loved by a handsome prince every young woman’s dream? It had been her own dream once, and she’d believed Elton was her prince.
    Forget Elton! Forget dreams. There is no Prince Charming to rescue you, take you to his castle and give you everything your heart desires.
    What did her heart desire?
    The question sprang from somewhere deep inside her. She didn’t want riches or fancy things. She didn’t want to sit around all day and do nothing. She liked being busy, though she admitted that it might be nice if she didn’t have to work quite so hard. She wanted a place that offered peace and happiness where she and the kids could go at the end of the day. It didn’t seem like too much to want or to ask for, but God hadn’t seen fit to give it to her.
    Enough!
Blaming God was not only futile, but also wrong. She’d made the choices that shaped her life, and some of them had been bad choices. She could blame only herself for her circumstances.
    Her expression set in grim determination, Meg forced herself to focus on the story. In a matter of moments, she was caught up in the words of the story, imagining each scene. As she sipped at her tea, she did manage to slip into that world of make-believe. Two cups later, it grew too dark to see the words and, with a regretful sigh, she rose, gathered up her things and went inside.
    Moments later, she lay in her bed, thinking about the story. If that tale—and the others in the book—were to be believed, there was a man out there somewhere, just waiting to come to the aid of a woman who needed him. The problem was that that kind of man was in short supply in Wolf Creek.
    Ace came to your aid.
The random thought caught her off guard. He had. She suspected he was motivated at least in part by guilt, but he was still here, helping her. As she drifted off to sleep, she saw again the quiet dignity and the pain in his eyes as he’d told her that there was no reason for her to ever be frightened of him. And, drifting in that state between sleep and wakefulness, she believed him.
    * * *
    Once Ace drove the wagon out of sight of Meg’s little house, he’d handed the reins over to his mother and slipped back through the woods so that he could watch over Meg during the night. At Rachel’s suggestion, he’d been standing guard ever since the night Meg had first come home. They hadn’t told her because Rachel knew Meg would refuse the offer, and under the circumstances, the doctor was afraid that knowing a man was on the premises might do Meg more harm than good.
    She was one stubborn woman. Too stubborn, maybe.
    As he’d made his way through the woods to his makeshift bed, he’d seen her come out onto the front porch with a book and a cup of something to drink. His first thought was that she’d changed into her gown. His second was to wonder what she was reading. He hadn’t seen any books lying around except a Bible, and he had a strong suspicion that she hadn’t opened it since she’d been home.
    Knowing she was safe on the front porch, he’d sunk down onto the pile of dusty straw he’d covered with a blanket from his bedroll. As he shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position for his aching muscles, he wondered if Meg did much reading and decided it was unlikely. Would she like other books? He couldn’t ask. She was still as gun-shy as a skittish hunting dog, and if she suspected he was hanging around at night, she’d most likely get the wrong idea. Instead of seeing his presence as the help he intended it to be, he was afraid she’d become hysterical—or worse, retreat into the remoteness that seemed to be