The Widows Choice
Kennedy, who'd died a little over a year earlier.  Three years after Charlie arrived in Colter Valley.
    After helping Mary Ellen clean the kitchen, Charlie moved to the window and once again looked toward the bunkhouse.  Earlier that day she'd watched as Rafe Preston had washed up for supper. 
    From her bedroom window she'd caught sight of him going to the side of the bunkhouse.  Shirtless, wearing only his long drawers, he'd caught her attention.  The man was the most fetching she'd ever seen. Tall and broad shouldered, he towered over Joe, yet at the same time, she didn't find him intimidating.  On the contrary, she found herself enticed to know him better.
    Mortified at spying, she'd tried to turn away, but became mesmerized by his body.  Wide shoulders, chiseled chest with a light feathering of hair that narrowed to a trim waist, he was built perfectly.  The man was tall, well over six feet.  His traveling companion Jerrick Black was attractive as well, but it was Rafe who'd appealed to her.
    "Stop it," Charlie mumbled and turned away from the window.  Daydreaming like a schoolgirl over a man who'd probably been sent by Winfrow to spy on her was not exactly the smart thing to do.
    The next day, she felt strange.  Her balance was off and a headache threatened.  Charlie went about her day, gardening and such until late in the afternoon.
    "Are you hungry?" Mary Ellen said from the table where she and Joe drank coffee.  They normally remained at the dinner table discussing things after the meal.  Often times Charlie joined them.  Today she'd not been up to sitting at the table with everyone.  Unable to eat with men who could be there under the guise of helping, only to do the opposite. Her stomach had turned at the idea of so much treachery.  Ever since Daniel died, she was left vulnerable, easy prey to men like Winfrow. 
    There was the other problem of attempting to do business in a man's world. As a woman alone, no one took her seriously when it came to dealing with purchase and selling of her cattle.  Joe did his best, but he was a simple man who didn't have a head for business. If she were to be honest, neither did she.  She was only married to Daniel for two years and had never dealt with any of the business side of things.
    She slid onto a chair at the kitchen table, her mind on how to handle the current situation.
    "They ain't from around here, Charlie, no need to fret.  Don't think they know Winfrow." Joe told her, his eyes roaming her face.  "You look like death warmed over.  You sick?"
    "Got a bit of a headache," she replied.  "Joe we can't be too trusting." She winced when her temples tightened, the headache threatening to return. "I'm not going to ask you to send them away.  I know we need the help. Are desperate for it, to be honest.  Just keep an eye on them."
    She ate a small amount of stew and nibbled on a biscuit before pushing away from the table.  "I am going to lie down.  Mary Ellen, thank you, but I can't eat.  This headache is just unbearable." When she rose, her legs buckled and she collapsed to the floor.  Joe rushed to her as well as Mary Ellen who cradled her head.  "We've got to call Doc.  Something is not right.  This is twice you've fallen out like this."
    Charlie wanted to object, but she could not form a cohesive sentence.  It was almost impossible to keep her eyes open.  Everything swam in front of her, Mary Ellen and Joe became hazy and her temple throbbed.  Darkness loomed as she felt herself being lifted and jostled about.  Too weak to speak, she allowed the fog to take over.  Her last thoughts were that if she died, no one would grieve for her and in that moment a great sadness enveloped her.
    "The doctor is here." An unfamiliar deep voice permeated through slumber. "Would you like me to greet him?"
    "No. Thank you, Rafe. Please stay with her.  I need to speak with him first and while I'm downstairs I’ll get fresh water.  She's asleep, so just keep
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