Walker's Wedding (21 page)

T
he foyer clock struck seven. Sarah sighed, her gaze returning to the study door. Walker hadn't come out, and the closed door was a stark reminder that her husband's anger had yet to run its course.

Lucy Mallory shifted in her chair, eyeing her empty plate.

Pork roast, boiled potatoes, and string beans sat untouched on the table. No one was going to eat until Walker took his chair, which he apparently didn't intend to do tonight.

The minutes ticked by. The women avoided eye contact, focusing instead on their plates. How long could Sarah keep up the pretense that Walker would join them? Supper was served at six. Apparently, if he wasn't speaking to her, he wasn't taking meals with her, either.

“I could eat a skunk,” Lucy complained. “Is Mr. McKay ever going to come out of his den?”

How long did it take to starve a person? Sarah's gaze slid to Lucy, her thoughts anguished. Wadsy's voice flashed through her mind.
Shame on you, baby girl! You're as much to blame for this as that Mallory girl!

The dining room felt as if every window was closed and air was a priceless commodity. Flo came to the doorway, glancing anxiously toward Walker's study. “No word from him?”

“None. Flo, maybe we should—” Sarah started to get up, but the housekeeper leveled a warning finger at her. “You stay put, young lady.
You've caused enough trouble.” The older woman disappeared back into the kitchen.

Closing her eyes, Lucy said softly. “This is real puzzlin'. I honestly thought you wouldn't care if I showed up.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because it's an arranged marriage. How close could you get to Mr. McKay in a few short weeks?”

“Close enough to fall deeply in love with him.”

Lucy sighed and closed her eyes. “Mr. McKay will have to settle the dispute. He sent for me, and all this—” her hand swept the lavish dining room—“should be mine.”

“Walker is worth so much more than his bank account. He's good and honest, and I played a deplorable trick on him.” A defensive note had started to creep into Sarah's tone. “And you shouldn't have traded him off like a goat.”

“You shouldn't have accepted him like a rabid wolf—”

“Neither one of you have the sense God gave a goose.” Flo came back through the doorway with coffee. “You both had better get on yer knees and ask the good Lord to settle this, and to forgive yer foolishness. One lie leads to two, and two to three, and before you know it you got a mess the likes of what yer facin'.”

Lucy sighed and glanced at Sarah. “The housekeeper doesn't like you either, does she?”

“The name's Flo.” The housekeeper thumped the coffeepot on the table and left the room.

Flo probably didn't like her anymore. Sarah stared at her plate, choking on remorse. She'd didn't need a lecture on lying. She knew full well the consequences.

Walker could be in his den this minute considering his contract with Lucy.

Clearing her throat, Sarah said quietly, “I wouldn't count my chickens before they hatch if I were you. Walker's just as upset with you as he is with me. Your family may want his money, but he's not a fool.”

Lucy took a sip of her coffee. “How could he be? I didn't come here
pretending to be someone else. I didn't marry him under false pretenses.”

“You're as guilty of this lie as I am.” How dare she insinuate this was all Sarah's fault? If she hadn't agreed to the ruse, Sarah couldn't have pulled it off.

“
You
suggested the switch.”

“
You
wanted to marry Rodney Willbanks.”

Both women sat up straighter in their chairs.

“If you think you can waltz in here and take my husband,
Miss
Mallory, you have another think coming!”

“He's not really yore husband!”

“He
is
my husband and I have a whole town of witnesses and a marriage certificate to prove it. We took our vows before God—”

“You lied to God.”

“I did
not
!” Sarah would never lie to God. A scream of fury stuck at the back of her throat. She wanted this woman, this Jezebel, this home wrecker, out of Walker's house and out of her life. Lucy wanted him only for his money and what he could do for her family. Sarah would fight to the death before she'd hand him over to the scheming likes of Lucy Mallory.

“I want you to leave, Lucy. Now, this evening. S.H. or one of the ranch hands will find you a room in town. You can leave on the next train.”

“You can't order me to leave. You ain't got no authority. Pa said for me to stay.”

“I'm Walker's wife. This is my home.

“Not anymore. I have a bindin' contract.”

“No judge will make Walker honor that contract. He's already married.”

“We'll see.”

“I'll make you leave.” Sarah pushed back from the table, prepared to do battle.

Lucy snatched a biscuit and hurled it. Sarah gasped as the bread
ricocheted off her right cheek. Gritting her teeth, she calmly reached for the bowl of gravy, hurling the contents at Lucy.

Pork roast flew, then china cups. Jam and coffee splattered the tablecloth, and the dining room erupted in a full-scale assault as the women threw dishes, screeched, hit, and pulled hair.

“Girls!” Flo burst from the kitchen and waded in to separate the warring factions, who were now rolling around on the floor. It took a minute for the housekeeper to get the girls back in their seats. Sopping gravy off the front of Sarah's blouse, she tsked.

“Never saw such goings-on in all my born days. What are you, a bunch of hooligans?”

“Flo, she just wants—” Sarah began.

“I know what she wants!” Flo left Sarah and moved around the table to see about the ugly stains dotting Lucy's blouse. The young woman's hair was loose from its pins, and she had a big gob of grape jam above her left brow.

“Lord have mercy. Have you two no learnin'? Throwing food like unruly children! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”

Sarah reached for a napkin, wiping greasy spatters off her skirt. “She has to leave, Flo. This is an impossible situation. Walker will never come out of the study while she's still here.”

“I'm not leaving,” Lucy announced. “Not until I talk to Mr. McKay and tell him the truth.” She brushed food crumbs out of her hair. “You think you're so smart. You'll be attendin' my wedding, Sarah Livingston.”

“I hope you like barbecue,” Sarah grumbled.

“What?”

“I want this catfight to stop, you hear me?” Crossing her arms over her chest, Flo glared at the two girls. “I'm going in that study and get this mess straightened out. You sit right here, and I don't want to hear a peep out of either one of you! Do you understand?”

The women nodded in unison.

Flo disappeared around the corner, and Sarah hazarded a quick look at Lucy, who promptly stuck out her tongue.

Ignoring the infantile gesture by looking in the other direction, Sarah licked jelly off her lips. It would be a cold day before she let that woman—or any other, for that matter—get her clutches into Walker McKay.

W
alker?” Flo tapped softly on the study door.

“I'm busy, Flo.”

“You're not that busy, and if you're not decent, you'd better say so, because I'm comin' in.” She waited for a moment and then turned the handle. Walker gave her a dirty look as she entered the room.

“Can't a man have his privacy around here anymore?”

“Ordinarily, yes, but these aren't ordinary times. And cowards don't get special privileges. Hidin' away in here ain't gonna solve a blessed thing.” She walked to the window and opened the drapes. Fading daylight poured into the cluttered study. Walker sat at his desk, his hair tousled and his feet propped up.

“What was all the noise out there?”

“Your women, fighting like street brawlers.”

“I don't have any women.”

“Beg pardon, but you do. Two of'em, and they are throwing food at each other.”

He grunted. “Are they still here?”

“They're still here, big as life, sitting at your table waiting for you to come out.”

“Inform the ladies they'll be sitting a long time.”

Flo straightened a stack of books, absently wiping the desk's surface with her apron hem.

“I can't blame you for being upset. Who wouldn't be, under the circumstances? Marry one woman and find out she's not who you think she was. But the problem isn't going to be solved by you holing up here, refusing to even discuss the matter. I can't have those two girls sitting at my table all night. Got food all over my clean floor, the tablecloth's a mess…”

Giving her a questioning look, Walker tossed down a half glass of brandy.

She shook her head. “Yer not a drinkin' man. You think that brandy will solve your problem?”

His boots hit the floor, and he got up to prowl the room. “Why did she do it, Flo? Why didn't she just tell me about the switch? At the time, it wouldn't have made any difference. One woman was as good as another.”

At the time, that might have been true. But not now. As much as Walker vowed he'd never fall prey to another woman's treachery, Sarah had wormed her way into his heart, and that made her actions even more painful than Trudy's betrayal.

“I can't answer for Sarah, Walker. She tells me she's sorry, that if she had it to do over again, she'd tell you exactly who she was. She's young. She goes on feelings instead of sound judgment. She realizes she's done wrong, and she tells me she prays you will forgive her and go on.”

He snorted. “Who is she, Flo?”

“She said she is Sarah Livingston. Her father is a wealthy Bostonian railroad owner.”

He shook his head wordlessly. “How blind can a man be? Then the next question is why, Flo?” Walker paused before the window, his eyes fixed on the rose garden, the disheveled flower bed yet another knife to the heart.

“She says she made the switch because she wanted to be married. She's stayed on because she loves you.”

“She needed a stranger to fill her needs?”

“Does seem peculiar, a pretty little thing like Sarah. Who knows why anyone does anything? But she seems sincere enough. Still…”

Walker turned to look at her. “Still what?”

Flo hadn't wanted to mention it. She'd seen no need until now. But if Sarah was in the marriage for anything other than what she claimed, then Walker needed to know. “I found her going over your books here a while back.”

“My financial ledgers?”

“She said she was trying to help you. Said she was good at math. When I mentioned it to S.H., he didn't think it was anythin' to get upset about. Could have been idle curiosity—you know how fascinated Sarah is with ranching. Besides, she comes from a wealthy family. I wouldn't let it overly concern you, but you need to know.”

Walker turned back to gaze out the window.

“What are you going to do about the situation?”

He stared at the flower garden as if the answers lay somewhere between the roses and the fountains.

Flo said softly. “S.H. should have plowed that garden under years ago.”

He remained at the window, staring.

“You can't just ignore the situation, Walker. It's not going away. Two women are sitting out there waiting on you to decide who is going to be your wife.”

Snorting, Walker returned to the desk.

“She's gone about it the wrong way, but Sarah's suited for you, you know that. You're just hurt and you got a right to be.”

“She deceived me. “

Sighing, the housekeeper replied, “You'd best eat a bite. It's late and you ought to be good and hungry by now.” She edged toward the door. “Do you plan to stay in here all night?”

He returned to the desk. “I might.”

“S.H has gone after Caleb. Figured you'd want to talk to him about this.”

“Thanks, Flo.”

She closed the door behind her.

Caleb arrived shortly before dark. S.H. showed him in. Both men looked worried, questioning Flo with their eyes when she answered the door. She shook her head and nodded toward the dining room. Lucy and Sarah still sat in their chairs, the length of the dining room table separating them. Caleb glanced at the closed study door. “Walker in there?”

Flo inclined her head. “He's expecting you.”

When the accountant walked by the dining room he paused to tip his hat. “Good evening, ladies.”

Cold silence met his cordial efforts. Sighing, Flo hurried on to the kitchen.

A second knock came not long after Flo's departure.

“Go away!” Walker bellowed.

“I'd like to, but you asked me to come.”

“Caleb?”

“How many friends did you send for?”

The door opened a crack, and Walker allowed him entrance. Caleb stood by the doorway, his eyes skimming the jumbled room. “Have you been ransacked?”

“Worse. I've been lied to.”

Walker slammed the door and resumed pacing.

The two men shared the same age, but the years had been kinder to Walker. Caleb's gray suits and dark shirts made him look sallow, washed out, and overly weary.

The accountant frowned. “You look awful.”

Running a hand over the back of his neck, Walker muttered something about feeling awful, and then sat down at the desk.

“So, who's lied to you?”

Walker picked up a glass and tossed down the contents. Sarah's deception cut deeply, causing him to finally realize how much he had grown to love her. Love. The very thing he'd told himself he would never do. “Sarah,” he said.

Caleb's eyes shifted to the open ledger on the desk. “Regarding what?”

Walker swiveled around to face him. “About everything. Who she is. What does she want?”

“Sarah?” The accountant sat in the wingback chair in front of the desk and removed his wire-rimmed glasses, absently polishing them on a hankerchief. “What's she done?”

Walker replied quietly, “She tricked me, Caleb. She took Lucy Mallory's place.”

Caleb glanced up.

“The two women switched places. Lucy Mallory went off on some jaunt to marry a man she wanted, and Sarah agreed to stand in as my bride.”

“Merciful heavens. What could they have been thinking?”

“That I was a fool and I'd never know the difference, and that even when I did, I wouldn't care.” It turned his stomach to think of how easily he'd fallen for the trick. But he knew why. The moment Sarah Livingston got off that train, something had happened between them, something he hadn't wanted to acknowledge. If Lucy hadn't showed up, when would she have told him about the switch? Tomorrow? The week after? Never?

“How did you discover the deception?”

“She was forced into telling me today. The real bride is sitting in the dining room. Seems Lucy Mallory has had a change of heart and now she wants to keep her end of the bargain.”

Caleb hooked his glasses behind his ears, repeating, “Merciful heavens.”

The two men sat in silence.

“What does Sarah have to say about her actions?”

I'm sorry, Walker. I love you. Please let me be your wife. Let me show
you I can be trusted.
The knife twisted deeper. “She says she intended to tell me about the switch.”

“When?”

“I don't know, Caleb. Does it matter?” He reached for the brandy container, but Caleb's hand stopped him.

“Why don't I have Flo bring in a pot of hot coffee?”

“Coffee won't help.”

Replacing the stopper in the bottle, Caleb moved the liquor aside. “So Sarah lied. She could have done worse.”

Giving him an impatient look, Walker got out of his chair and returned to the window.

“You didn't know Lucy Mallory. You didn't know Sarah. You were willing to marry a stranger in order to produce an heir, so I hardly see where you've been wronged.”

“She
lied to
me, Caleb. And I trusted her.”

“True, but she hasn't run off with another man.”

Maybe it would have hurt less if Sarah had run off with another man. Then she wouldn't be waiting in his dining room. His gaze focused on the unkempt garden.

“Flo says Sarah's been going through the books, trying to help.”

Caleb sat up straighter, color draining from his face. “Why would she do that?”

“Who knows why Sarah does anything?”

Loosening his collar, Caleb shifted in his chair. “There'd be no reason for her to look at the books. Do you suspect she's after your money?”

“She shouldn't be. Her father is one of the richest men in America.”

“Could she be lying about her identity? Perhaps she isn't Sarah Livingston.”

Walker turned to give him a wry look.

The accountant reached for the brandy and poured himself a drink. The burgundy liquid spilled on the desk and he absently blotted it with a piece of paper. “I'll recheck the books and make certain that she hasn't tampered with them.”

The statement irritated Walker. “She hasn't ‘tampered' with them.
She can't even manage a meal, much less swindle me out of money. She's not a thief.”