Walker's Wedding (30 page)

The realization hit Walker like a ton of bricks. He didn't just need Sarah to produce an heir; he
loved her.
And he had done everything within his power to drive her away. The baby was important, but without Sarah they would be only half a family. His existence would be empty without her.

“Walker—”

“I'll deal with you later. Right now I'm going after my wife.”

Squinting, Sarah leaned down, closing one eye as she jiggled a hairpin in the keyhole. Potster had made it look so easy, but she'd worked for an hour and hadn't cracked the rigid lock. If she didn't get out of here soon, she was going to burst. Hours had gone by without the use of a necessary, and she was desperate.

Rattling the handle, she gritted her teeth with frustration.

How long would Caleb leave her in here? And then what? Would he actually do away with her? Questions flashed through her mind. Would Walker figure out what had happened to her? Would he be so angry because she'd left without telling him that he'd think it was good riddance? Giving the handle one last vicious shake, she slid down the length of the door, sobbing.

When she heard a horse pounding along the rutted drive a few minutes later she felt faint. Caleb was coming back!

Getting to her feet, she yanked so hard that the door actually flew open, surprising her and causing her to land backward on the wool rug with a jolt. Grabbing her belly, she lay there for a moment, assuring herself that she wasn't hurt. Then, crawling on her hands and knees, she closed the door, her eyes searching for a weapon. The bedpost. It was long, angular, and loosely attached to the bedstead. When she heard the banker's footsteps coming down the hallway, she was waiting by the door, club extended over her head.

The door flew open, and Sarah swung the makeshift weapon with all her might. Her abductor caught sight of her from the corner of his eye and quickly sidestepped the blow. She shot out of the room, bouncing off the opposite wall and knocking vases and knickknacks off a polished table.

Hands shot out to support her. Strong, familiar hands. Wonderfully familiar hands. Turning, she met a man's blue, blue gaze.

“Walker! How did you know—?”

He latched onto her tightly, holding her close. After a moment, his mouth captured hers in a hungry, urgent kiss that sent her head reeling. It was many moments before she could break the embrace long enough to gasp, “How did you know where to find me?”

“Caleb told me.”

“Caleb? But he—” A second, more urgent kiss prevented her from asking the myriad questions swirling in her mind.

“Sarah,” Walker murmured, holding her close as he stroked her hair. “I should have listened—”

She stopped him, her fingertips tracing his mouth. Oh, how she
loved him, more than she thought she could ever love anyone. But she didn't want him if her word would always be in doubt.

Straightening, she set the club aside.

“Sarah—”

“I'm going home, Walker. To Boston.” He'd reacted and kissed her out of fear. He wasn't thinking straight.

“I know you're angry, but you can't leave me now.”

“I'm not angry. For the first time in my life, I'm finally thinking straight. I can't make you love me, though I have tried. Until the day you do, I won't beg for your crumbs any longer.”

His eyes softened. “What would I have to say in order to make you stay?”

“If you don't know, you're in worse shape than I thought.” She brushed past him before she started crying. Not so long ago she would have accepted any terms he offered, but the stakes had changed. Now she wanted more.

He trailed her down the hallway. “What if I told you that you're going to break Flo's and S.H.'s hearts if you leave? They're real attached to you.”

“Wouldn't work.”

“What if I told you Potster thinks of you as the daughter he never had? You're not going to leave the old man without saying goodbye, are you?”

“Potster's my friend. He knows the situation.” She hurried down the stairway.

“What about Caleb?”

“What about him?”

“If there's a trial, you'll need to testify.”

“Are you pressing charges?” She stepped off the porch and headed straight for the necessary. Walker's long-legged strides kept up with her.

“Well?” she asked.

“Well, what?”

“Are you pressing charges against Caleb?” She'd bet her last dollar he wouldn't.
Walker would be angry with him, but he would never send Caleb to jail.

“Sarah—”

“That's what I thought. You weren't willing to forgive me, but you will forgive Caleb.” She disappeared into the privy and slammed the door.

Leaning against the outhouse, he said softly, “What if I say I forgive you? We can start over, Sarah. We've both made mistakes—”

“No.”

She emerged shortly afterward and walked toward the buggy, which was in the yard where Caleb had left it.

“This isn't all my fault,” he accused. “You could have told the truth and this wouldn't have happened.”

“Could have, should have, might have, needed to. What difference does it make? I didn't, so here we are.” She swatted his hand as he tried to help her into the buggy. She lurched aboard and picked up the reins, meeting his eyes for the first time. “None of these reasons you have stated are good enough to make me stay.”

“Sarah, I'm begging you—”

Snapping the reins, she drove off, leaving him standing in a swirl of dust.

S
arah Elaine Livingston McKay cried all the way back to Boston. Thirty pounds heavier and a whole lot smarter, she knew the remaining months of her pregnancy would be a picnic compared with what she faced once the babies came. She chided herself for her inability to accept Walker's roundabout apology. Wasn't that what she'd wanted? Yet he hadn't stated one good reason to make her stay. Oh, how she wished he had. She wouldn't be crying her eyes out over a man who didn't give a whit about her.

Stepping down from the train, she shaded her eyes, wondering how she would get home. She'd thought about wiring ahead but decided against it. How could she possibly explain in a few short sentences why she was returning? Her eyes traveled the terminal, pausing on Walker and then moving on. They switched back.

“Walker?” she murmured. Her heart sprang to her throat.

Pushing away from the post, the tall, good-looking rancher walked toward her. Stopping a few feet from her, he continued the argument as if they were still at Caleb's. “Flo needs you in the kitchen.”

She raised her chin. “She does not. She hates me being underfoot.”

“Doc says it's not safe to travel. You could hurt the babies.”

She put her hands on her hips—or where her hips used to be. “You haven't talked to the doctor.”

“Have so. We had a long talk while you were waiting to board the train.”

“How did you get here before me?”

“I was on the same train—rear coach.”

“That's not possible. You weren't on it when I left town.”

“That's true, but I can ride cross-country and Diamond's one fast runner. We caught the train two towns later.”

She shook her head.

“What if I said I'd rethought this, and I now concede that a child needs both parents?”

“A fool would know that.” She picked up her valise and hailed a driver-for-hire. Walker trailed her out to the wagon and helped her onto the front seat. He stored the valise and then climbed into the rear of the conveyance.

She pivoted in her seat to glare at him. He said, “There isn't a train back until tomorrow.”

After that the couple rode in silence. Sarah searched her mind for an explanation of her sudden appearance. What would she tell Papa? That he'd been right all along? That she should have accompanied him back to Boston months ago?

When the wagon rolled into the courtyard, Abraham came to greet the newcomers, a smile breaking out when he recognized Sarah. “Sarah girl!”

“Hi, Abe.” Sarah smiled as the old servant lifted her out of the wagon and set her on the ground.

Holding her away from him, he examined her. “My, oh, my. Baby girl is surely fillin' out.”

Patting her burgeoning load, she sighed. “Aren't I, though?”

Walker jumped down from the wagon and paid the driver. Then he turned to Sarah and the servant. “Abe, I'm Walker McKay.”

Grinning, the white-haired servant gazed up and down at the rancher. “So this is Mr. McKay. Well, now.”

Sarah reached for her valise and started off toward the house. Walker
caught up, taking the bag out of her hand despite her protests. “I am capable of carrying my own luggage.”

“No wife of mine is carrying her luggage.”

“I am
not
your wife
.
Not anymore.”

Wadsy's rotund bulk appeared in the doorway. “Oh, praise the Lord! Is that you, baby girl?”

“It's me, Wadsy!” Sarah gave the nanny a big hug before hurrying into the house.

Walker tipped his hat. “Walker McKay, Wadsy. Nice to meet you.”

Wadsy turned to watch his swift passage after Sarah. “Pleasure to meet ya, sir.”

“Papa? I'm home!” Sarah announced as she breezed past the study.

“Sarah Elaine? Is that you? What are you doing home?” He appeared in the study door as she climbed the stairs.

“I live here, don't I?” She walked down the hallway to her bedroom, with Walker in close pursuit.

“Is that Mr. McKay with you?”

“It is, sir,” Walker said. “We'll be down in a minute. I'm trying to talk sense into your daughter.”

“Well, good luck!” Lowell said, retreating back into the study.

Sarah reached her bedroom and turned the doorknob. Walker's hand blocked her. His breath was warm on her neck. “What if I said that I need you more than I've ever needed anything in my life? That life won't be worth living if you're not the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see every night? That I didn't know what love was until you stepped into my life, and that I thank God that he knew better than I what I needed or wanted. You are my life, Sarah. And I love you more than words can say. If you walk out on me now, you'll leave a hole in my heart I will never be able to fill.

She shook her head.

“I'll take you to Ireland.”

She turned to him, suddenly feeling helpless. He'd never once ever said that he needed her. Her eyes gave away her indecision, and he took full advantage.

“I don't just need you, I love you. I've been a fool.” He tilted her chin, kissing her lightly on the mouth. “I want what we first had, Sarah. I want it worse than I've ever wanted anything in my life. And so much more. Please say you'll forgive me so we can get married again and start over. I've got sick cows, a bull down, a heifer in heat, fence to mend, a barn to rebuild, and planting before spring, sweetheart. I can't be traipsing all over the country courting you.”

“This is your idea of courting me?”

“It's my way of telling my woman that I love her.” His mouth closed over hers a second time as his arms went around her.

Closing her eyes, she tasted him, so warm, so Walker. Other than the kisses at finding her unharmed at Caleb's, it had been ages since his lips had sought hers. Even longer since she'd felt this sense of hope. Their mouths brushed and lingered.

It was long minutes before she could bring herself to ask, “If I marry you again—
if
,” she emphasized. “Will the reverend officiate at a barbecue?”

He grinned. “This time we're doing it right.” His lips left hers to toy with the nape of her neck. “Your papa will be there to give you away, and Flo and Wadsy will both help you dress.” Their lips drifted back together. “I love you. Please say you'll repeat our vows, Sarah McKay, and let's put the past behind us.”

He'd finally found the right words.

“Of course I'll marry you, Walker McKay. What took you so long to ask?”

On the landing below, Wadsy, Lowell, and Abraham breathed a sigh of relief.

Abe smiled. “Looks like you finally got yourself a son-in-law, sir.”

Lowell nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “It does, Abe. A fine son-in-law. Maybe now we can all rest.”