Walker's Wedding (19 page)

Sarah hurried back to the barn. On the way, she noticed black smoke rolling out of Potster's kitchen window.

“The chicken!” she cried. “The chicken's on fire, Potster!”

Potster darted out of the barn, his eyes following Sarah's finger.

“Go help Walker!” Potster sped off to salvage dinner as Diamond's whinnies filled the air.

Sarah ran inside to Diamond's stall, where Walker was calmly stroking the mother's back with one hand.

“Where's the water?”

“Flo's bringing it.” Sarah's chest heaved. “How's she doing?”

“We need to cool her down and see if we can stop her labor.” Walker spoke softly to Diamond and she nickered lowly, her eyes wide with fright.

“What can I do?” Sarah asked.

“It's all up to Diamond now. Come on, girl. Relax. You need to hang on a few weeks more before you have this foal.”

The horse's sides heaved as Sarah climbed the side of the stall and leaned over the railing to watch. Diamond's sweat-slick coat shuddered under Walker's soothing hand. Diamond rested, panting. “Atta girl.” Walker turned to maneuver along the railing, and she couldn't see his expression. A moment later he was crouched behind Diamond.

The mingled smells of sweat and horse filled Sarah's nostrils. Walker gently patted Diamond's side.

“Good girl, good Diamond.” Sarah noticed that he had taken off his gloves and now ran his hand lightly over the horse's head.

The mare heaved and nickered, but she calmed as Walker continued to speak in soft tones.

The stall suddenly tilted, and Sarah lifted her hands to her head. She saw Potster enter the barn and say something to Walker, but the blood pounding in her ears blocked out the words. Potster placed the bucket of water beside Walker and glanced up at Sarah, mouthing words that looked something like “far too…”

What was he saying? Sarah scowled, shaking her head to clear the fuzz. The stall was spinning out of control. Spinning, whirling—then it went black.

W
alker strode through the back door, carrying an unconscious Sarah. Flo followed, shock registering on her face. “What happened?”

“She fainted. Send one of the men for the doctor.”

“Doc's over in Dexter County vistin' kinfolk. Effie mentioned Sunday that he'd be there all week.”

Walker took the stairs two at a time. Kicking their bedroom door open, he carried Sarah to the bed and gently put her down. Momentarily stirring, her eyes fluttered. Smiling, she lightly touched his cheek before sinking back into unconsciousness.

Flo hurried in with a pan of cold water and cloths. By the time she wet the compress, Sarah was coming around.

“Walker…”

He gently pressed the cloth to her forehead. “Hold still, sweetheart. You fainted.”

She gazed up at him, eyes melting into his. “Swooned?” she murmured.

“You were looking over the stall one minute and out cold the next.” He grinned, smoothing a lock of hair off her face. She tried to sit up, pushing his hands aside.

“Diamond?”

“She's quiet now.”

Sarah wilted back to the pillow, her eyes drifting shut. “I'm glad.”

“I'll get her something cool to drink,” Flo offered, turning to leave.

When the door closed, Sarah looked at her husband. “I'm fine, Walker. Really.”

“You don't look fine.”

Reaching out, she traced the outline of his cheek. “Apparently breakfast didn't set well with me.”

“Doc Linder's away visiting family, but if you think you need him—”

“I'm fine, really.” After sitting up, she swung her legs off the bed and slowly stood. Moving to the washstand, she groaned when she encountered her image in the mirror.

“Potster said you felt faint earlier. What's going on?”

“It was too hot. The bunkhouse kitchen is always sweltering.”

Flo returned with two glasses of lemonade. Placing the tray on the bedside table, she clucked. “What are you doing up? You should lie flat for a while.”

“I feel better, Flo. There's no need to fuss.”

“Well, young lady, you're not going anywhere until you've had something cold to drink and have been off your feet for at least an hour.”

Sarah glanced at Walker, grinning. “Yes, ma'am.”

“I have to check on Diamond,” he said, backing out of the room. His eyes still locked with Sarah's. “I'll be back shortly.”

“Walker…I need to talk to you,” Sarah murmured.

“We'll talk later, sweetheart. Don't let her up, Flo.”

“I won't.”

When the door closed, Sarah lay on the bed and closed her eyes. She'd promised Flo an hour of rest, but she was having difficulty keeping still. Through the open window, she could hear the ranch going about its daily business. Walker was close to the house this afternoon. She had to tell him. She'd promised Potster and she'd promised herself. It was one promise she intended to keep.

She savored the last few blissful moments of Walker's innocence. After today, nothing would ever be the same between them, regardless of how he took the news.

Blinking back tears, she recalled the feel of his arms at the dance, the warmth of his hand on the small of her back as he helped her into the buggy, and the concern in his eyes this morning.

She kept her eyes closed against a swell of dizziness. Her stomach rolled, and she wondered if she needed to empty it. The breakfast muffin—she shuddered at the thought.

An hour passed, and she slid off the bed and washed her face and straightened the pins in her hair. The dizziness was gone, and her head cleared. She couldn't put it off any longer. Walker would probably be in the barn. They would have a few moments of privacy—enough for Sarah to tell him the truth about her identity and their marriage.

Flo was bent over the sink, scrubbing pots, when Sarah crept down the stairs. Unlatching the front door, she glanced over her shoulder as she slipped out, letting the door softly close behind her. She wondered if this was how men felt facing the guillotine. It couldn't be much worse than the mission she was about to embark upon.

When she turned around, she jumped as she came face-to-face with Lucy Mallory. Sarah stared at her but couldn't find her voice.

Lucy broke the strained silence. “Hi.” She grinned. “Guess you shore didn't think you'd ever see me again.”

S
arah grasped the porch railing, staring at Lucy as if she were an apparition. “What are you doing here?”

Lucy set down her valise. “I didn't marry Rodney.” She drew a deep sigh. “He turned out to be no good, just like Pa said.”

This can't be happening.
The dizziness returned and Sarah held on tighter to the rail.
Not now, when I was just about to tell Walker.

The girl shrugged. “For a while everything was wonderful, but then he started going out every night drinking and coming home early in the morning, smelling of whiskey and women's perfume. He vowed that he loved me and was gonna marry me soon, but, well, money was always so tight, and then he quit his job at the dock because a feller cussed him out. I wanted to send Ma and Pa the five hunnert you gave me and tell them that McKay fellow gave it to me, but Rodney done spent it all afore I could say squat.” She frowned. “Shore surprised me. He talked so sweet and all, but he was for sure a scoundrel. Once we were broke, they set us out in the middle of the street.” She paused, her eyes perusing the large farm house. “Oh, my. This is so purty.”

Sarah slumped against the railing. “Why didn't you go home? What made you come here?”

“I did go home.” She drew another long sigh. “Pa was furious when he found out what I'd done. Said I couldn't skip out on Mr. McKay and
that I had to come here and fulfill my duty.” She reached out to touch a trailing rose. “This is 'bout the purtiest place I ever saw.”

Sarah had to get rid of the girl before Walker discovered she was here. She couldn't let Lucy Mallory ruin everything! Collecting her wits, Sarah straightened.

“I'm sorry, but I'll have to ask you to leave. Walker and I married several weeks ago, and I won't let you walk in here and threaten our union.”

Lucy shook her head. “Actually, I asked Pa about what would happen if I got here and you were already married. He said Mr. McKay ain't really your husband. Not legally. He's married to Sarah Lucille Mallory, right? That's me, not you.”

“No, he's married to Sarah Elaine Livingston. I told him my real name, and he didn't mention a word about the change.”

“Don't matter. Pa says he has a contract with me. Paid Pa a hunnert dollars for me—not you.”

Heartsick, Sarah clasped her hands to keep from wringing them. “What do you want from me?”

“Why, nothing from you. You kin go on with your life, but we'll just have ta tell McKay the truth—you ain't told him about the switch yet, have you?”

Sarah shook her head, unable to think.

“I didn't think so. We gotta tell him. Then you have ta leave and I'll fulfill the contract.”

“You can't—it's too late. Walker will be furious when he learns what we've done. He'll send us both away. You don't know him, Lucy. He was deeply hurt by a prior engagement, and he isn't a man who'll take lightly to being tricked by two women. He won't want either one of us.”

The idea of Lucy replacing her in Walker's arms, in his heart, in his life, churned the rising sickness in Sarah's stomach.

“Pa says he kin annul the marriage. He still needs an heir, don't he? I'm sure he'll be mad as a wet hen for a few days, but that'll pass. He contracted for a bride, and I'm that bride.”

Sarah stared at her, wondering how anyone could be so simplistic.

Lucy didn't seem concerned at all that Sarah's marriage was legitimate. “Pa says I ought marry Mr. McKay and live in this fine house.” She stood back, openly enthralled with Spring Grass. “He must be plenty wealthy.”

Sarah turned as the front door opened and Flo appeared, holding an armful of dirty sheets. Sarah could see from the look on her face that she had heard too much.

“What's going on out here?”

Lucy promptly extended her hand. “Lucy Mallory,” she greeted with a bright smile. “I'm here to marry Mr. McKay.”

Flo glanced at the extended hand and then at Sarah. Sarah felt tears welling in her eyes. She couldn't bear the look of shock and disbelief on Flo's face. Brushing past the bewildered housekeeper, she grabbed her skirts and flew into the house and up the stairs.

Nausea overcame her flight and she slumped on a step, not sure if she could go on. She laid her head down, sobbing. Part of her wanted to die. Then she wouldn't have to face Walker, wouldn't have to witness his anger. His pain. Gathering her strength, she stood up, climbed the last of the stairs, and ran down the hallway, slamming the bedroom door a moment later.

Flo listened to the flight, wondering if the world had gone mad. First Sarah fainting, now this person claiming to want to marry Walker—she turned to face the young woman standing on the front porch and looking very much at home.

“Who'd you say you were?”

“Lucy Mallory.”

“Sarah is Walker's wife.”

“Might be, but I have a legal contract that sez he's supposed to marry me.” The girl smiled confidently. “I'm for sure Lucy Mallory.”

“Mallory? Sarah said there was some sort of mix-up at the agency—”

“No, ma'am. No mix-up. I'm Mr. McKay's intended.”

Flo's eyes swept over her. Where was S.H.? “You stay right here.” She reentered the house and marched up the stairs, sheets trailing behind her. If Sarah wasn't the right bride, then whom had Walker married? She grimaced at the thought of Walker facing yet another deception. Pausing in front of the couple's room, she pressed her ear against the closed door. She could hear the sound of vomiting. Dropping the sheets, she entered the room without knocking.

Sarah was hunched over the chamber pot, heaving. Flo bent to help, holding the sobbing girl until the retching gradually eased. The old woman gently brushed the damp tendrils of hair out of her face. “Land sakes, this has been quite a day for you, young'un. What in the world is going on?”

Sarah slumped to Flo's shoulder, crying. “I-I've done a t-terrible thing, Flo.”

Flo held her tight, gently rocking back and forth. “Is the girl downstairs really Lucy Mallory?”

“Y-yes.”

Flo brushed her hair, fingers untangling wet strands off her cheeks so she could see the young woman's anguished features.

“I don't even pretend to understand what's going on,” Flo admitted. “But you're only going to make yourself sicker if you don't get yourself under control. Whatever it is, God knows what's happening, and there's nothing in his eye that can't be forgiven.” She sat Sarah up, wiping at the tears coursing down her cheeks. When the girl had gained control of her emotions, Flo said softly, “Now tell me what's happened and we'll see what we can do about it.”

Sarah's story slowly unfolded, and Flo listened intently as Sarah revealed that she was the daughter of wealthy railroad magnate Lowell Livingston. There'd been an argument, and Sarah had run away. During the journey she'd met Lucy. At the last moment Sarah realized she couldn't marry Walker without telling him her real name. The change hadn't seemed to bother him.

Flo had never heard such a story. “Why did you run off? Certainly
some fine young man in Boston would have married you. Your father is a wealthy man.”

“I don't want someone to marry me for my father's money. I want them to marry me because they want me, because they love me!” Pulling out of Flo's arms, Sarah leaned over the chamber pot and emptied her stomach again.

“Lord have mercy on your soul, young'un. Your pa must be worried sick about you. Does he know where you are?”

“No…but he knows that I'm safe,” Sarah managed to acknowledge between bouts of nausea.

“Mercy. You got a knack for gettin' yourself in powerful messes.” Flo waited until the retching eased. She was thoughtful for a moment. Then she said, “Sarah, have you had your monthly?”

Sarah glanced up, pale and weak from the violent episode. She shook her head.

“How long have you been feeling sick?”

“It started this morning—well, maybe yesterday, but the dizziness started today.”

“Could be that you're expectin'.”

“I…don't know. Is this how a mother-to-be feels? Dreadfully sick?”

“Sometimes, honey. Are you prone to fainting spells?”

“Besides the barn, I had one in Potster's kitchen this morning.”

“I think you're with child, young'un. You got to tell Walker.”

Sarah sat back on her heels, closing her eyes in despair. “Even if I were, I wouldn't tell Walker—not until I've seen a doctor and confirmed the suspicion. He'd only think I was lying to him.” Once he learned about her deception he wouldn't believe a word she said, and who could blame him? If only Lucy hadn't shown up today. By tomorrow she would have told him…

Flo shook her head. “The days following Trudy's departure were dark ones. Walker didn't sleep or eat, and he prowled about the house at night, snapping at anyone who crossed his path. This isn't going to be an easy time in the McKay household.”

Covering her face with the cloth, Sarah murmured, “What about Lucy? She's downstairs. If Walker sees her—”

“Don't worry about her. I'll keep her out of the way until you can talk to him.”

Sarah gave her a grateful look. “Thank you, Flo. I'll change my dress and go find him.”

Flo turned to leave, absently gathering the sheets she'd dropped on her way out.

“Flo?”

“Yes, honey?”

“You know I love him, don't you?”

Flo nodded, smiling at her for the first time in days. “A body would have to be blind not to see that.”

When Flo walked into the parlor, she noted that Lucy had made herself at home. Hands clasped behind her back, the young woman roamed the room, closely examining the craftsmanship of the clock Betsy had given Mitch fifteen Christmases ago.

She turned and smiled when she saw Flo come in. “This is jest the purtiest clock. It must be very expensive.”

“Yes, it is. If you'll excuse me, I have to take these sheets to the washroom.”