Walker's Wedding (20 page)

When she returned a few moments later, Lucy had moved from the clock to the mantel and was holding a porcelain vase in both hands.

“Are you the maid?”

Flo met her curious gaze before stiffening her back. “I've run this household long before you were born.”

“That's nice. What's your name?”

“Flo.”

“Flo. My pa had a dog named Flo.” Lucy gently placed the vase back on the mantel. “Is Mr. McKay handsome too?”

“Too?”

“Well…he has all this money.” The young woman's gaze roamed the room. “Pa says he could buy the moon if'n he wanted.”

“He doesn't buy moons.”

Lucy waltzed around the parlor, eyeing the furniture and running her hands along the polished tables. Clearly, life was looking up for her.

She sat herself down in Walker's chair, testing the comfort as she tilted her head at Flo. “Is he a kind man?”

Flo stepped over and jerked a pillow from behind the girl's back. “Always been decent to me.”

Lucy seemed taken aback by the pillow's sudden departure. Touching a hand to her hair, she said brightly, “Is Mr. McKay available? I really should talk to him as soon as possible. My parents are expecting…” She paused, looking hesitant for the first time. “My folks expect to visit soon, and they'll for sure want me married afore they git here.”

“Miss Mallory—” Flo heard the kitchen screen door slam shut and she quickly looked over her shoulder.

“Flo! You got any leftover meat loaf? I'm hungry.”

Walker.

Lucy straightened her skirts, giving the housekeeper a hopeful look. “Is that him?”

“In the warming oven, Walker!” Flo turned back to Lucy. “That's him, missy.” She bent close as she walked past the young woman. “A word of caution: He doesn't like surprises.”

Walker had found the meat by the time Flo reached the kitchen. He bit into his dinner, washing it down with a swallow of milk.

“Let me fix you a plate. I have some beans and corn—”

“No time, Flo. I got to get back to work.”

Walker cut a hunk of bread. “Is Sarah feeling any better?”

“Ask her yourself. She wants to talk to you.”

Walker swallowed another bite. “Where is she?”

“Upstairs.”

“She'll have to make it quick. I'm behind in all my chores.” He quickly strode through the kitchen into the hall foyer.

Flo saw him glance into the parlor as Lucy got up from her chair, smiling. He nodded. “Afternoon.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. McKay.” Lucy's eyes turned bright with excitement.

Flo hurriedly diverted him toward the stairs. “Hurry along. Sarah's waiting for you.”

As Walker proceeded up the stairs, Flo returned to the parlor to distract the visitor.

S
arah? You up here?” Walker paused at the bedroom door. Sarah froze when she heard his voice, forcing back another bout of queasiness. “In here, dear…” Dear? She never called him “dear.” He would know something was wrong.

The door opened, and Walker stuck his head in. “Who's the girl in the parlor?”

Sarah got off the bed and moved toward the washstand. “An acquaintance. Someone I met on my way here.”

“Why aren't you in the parlor visiting with her? Still not feeling well?”

Sarah looked away, unable to meet his eyes. He would know all too soon that Lucy Mallory was no one's friend.

Entering the bedroom, he kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot. “Flo said you wanted to see me?”

Unable to find her voice now, she nodded.

He winked at her. “Lonesome?”

“No…not lonesome.”

Concern clouded his features when he noted her flushed and tearstained expression. “Are you still feeling bad? Why don't I send one of the—”

“I'm not ill!” The denial came out harshly. She bit her tongue, willing her tears at bay.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Maybe a kiss will put some color back into those cheeks.” He walked over and bent to embrace her.

Any other time she would welcome his advances. But not now, not when she was about to destroy their world. She left the washstand to put distance between them. Why hadn't she told him sooner? Now she'd waited too long. Lucy was here, threatening to destroy the connection that had just started to form between them.

Following her across the room, he made a second attempt to take her into his arms, failing again.

Shrugging his efforts aside, she said shortly, “Please, Walker. There's something I have to tell you.”

Their eyes met and locked. He smiled and said quietly, “I can think of better ways to spend my break than talking.”

He had never been so forward, or spoken in such an intimate tone.

Fear flooded her. What if he insisted that she leave today, insisted he'd bargained for Lucy Mallory and that he was obligated to keep the commitment? Sarah knew in her heart that she was Walker's soul mate.

Foolish Sarah. Such thoughts are wishful thinking. Walker will be so furious when he hears what you've done that he'll order you out of the house and out of his life. He'll say you betrayed him as surely as Trudy betrayed him earlier.

But it wasn't the same. She wasn't Trudy, and she loved him with every fiber of her being. Would he see that?

Twisting the hem of her apron, she tried to organize her confession in a sane manner.

You're not going to believe this, but a funny thing happened to me on the way here
—

No, that would never work. He'd see right through that.

I should have mentioned this earlier, darling
—
you'll laugh when you hear it, but the agency didn't send me. Isn't that hilarious?

He wouldn't find it even mildly amusing, let alone hilarious. The certain knowledge crowded her throat, threatening to cut off her air supply. Her head swam.
Please, God, don't let me faint now. Provide the
words to make him believe that what started as deceit quickly turned into a deep love.

Walker's voice came to her through a fog. “So what's so important that you need to talk to me about it in the middle of the day?”

Sucking in breath, she willed her voice steady. “I…you'll never guess…actually, I know you'll find this really odd, even amusing…” She paused, taking in another deep breath. How could she say it?

I
tricked you. I played a cruel hoax on you and jeopardized what might have been a glorious marriage between us, all in the name of selfishness.

He would never forgive her. She knew that as surely as she knew her knees were about to give way again. Heading toward the bed, she swallowed against the rush of bile to her throat.

“Sarah?” New concern tinged his voice. “Are you going to faint?”

Grasping her by the shoulders, he eased her down on the side of the bed.

“Flo!”

“No!” She didn't want Flo to be here when she told him. One pair of accusing eyes was enough. “I don't need Flo,” she murmured. “Please, Walker…let me say this.”

Walker leaned close, his breath warm against her cheek. “What is it, sweetheart? Sarah…what's wrong?”

Tears brimmed in her eyes and she lay back on the pillow, aware it would be the last time he would look at her with love and caring in those blue, blue eyes. Never again would he see her as the woman who shared his bed, his heart, the one and only woman he'd dared to trust after Trudy.

“I don't know how to tell you this.”

His eyes met hers, grave now, as if he knew their idyllic world was about to collapse. “Just say it.”

Clasping his face between her hands, she said softly, “I'm sorry, Walker. I'm not your intended bride.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I lied to you. There was no mistake by the agency. Lucy Mallory is the bride you sent for.”

His penetrating gaze held hers as the words sank in. Long, agonizing moments passed. She saw fear, disbelief, betrayal, pain, and then gradual acceptance play across his features. Had she honestly expected him to laugh it off, to compliment her on her extraordinary theatrical abilities?

The moments between her revelation and his reply seemed to stretch into days. She couldn't read his eyes for the torrent of conflict that waged there.

Straightening, he released his clasp on her shoulders, and her hands slid away from his face. “Who are you?”

The coldness in his voice hurt, but she deserved it. The teasing was gone, the husbandly banter vanished. In their place she heard the voice of a stranger.

“My name
is
Sarah Livingston.” When she saw confusion cloud his eyes, she prayed for wisdom. She lifted her arms, willing him to return. “What I've done is inexcusable, but I can explain if you'll only permit me.”

For a moment she thought he might allow her a brief explanation. Her heart soared and then plummeted when his eyes hardened, his jaw clenched. “Why should I allow you anything?”

“Because I am your wife—in every sense of the word, Walker. I love you.” When he swore, which he never did, she went on, “Our vows were legal. In God's eyes we are man and wife.”

Uttering a black oath, he cupped the back of his neck and stood, pacing the room.

“I meant to tell you—I tried to tell you this morning. I was on my way to find you, to explain when Lucy arrived. Please, don't hate me…”

He paused before the window, staring at the activities below. Normal sounds drifted up, but the day was anything but normal. “Did Flo know about this?”

“No, she didn't. Not until this afternoon when Lucy showed up. She heard us talking, and I had to tell her what I'd done then.”

He turned to look at her. “Lucy Mallory is
here?
”

“Sitting downstairs in the parlor. She's the…acquaintance I mentioned.”

“I don't believe it.” Resuming his pacing, he ran his fingers through his hair. She knew he was trying to make sense of what she'd told him. But if she couldn't, how could he?

She climbed off the bed and approached him hesitantly, as if she were cornering a wounded animal. Gently she put her hand on his arm. “I know it's upsetting, but all is not lost. All you have to do is void your contract with Lucy and nothing changes. She'll go home and we'll never speak of this day again. I'm happy being your wife. I'm deeply in love with you, Walker. You sent for a bride, and I want to be that woman.”

He shrugged her hand aside and her heart broke. All the love and assurance he would ever need was in her eyes. Couldn't he see that? Didn't he know by now that she'd never pretended feelings she didn't have—that she adored him? No woman could ever respond to him the way she had if she didn't love him.

And he wouldn't have responded to her the way he had if she were merely a convenience, a broodmare, someone to bear his name and children. Love could be theirs again if only he could find a way to forgive her.

“I know this is upsetting—”

“Upsetting?” He could barely look at her now. “You
lied to
me, and you think it's
upsetting to
me?”

“Devastating,” she amended.

He glared at her.

“Insidious,” she murmured. “Judas-like, actually, and I'm so very sorry, but I did tell you my real name the first day we met.”

His look nearly felled her. “I wasn't listening.”

“You heard me and you acted as though one woman was as good as another.”

“At the time, it was. But things have changed.” He turned accusing eyes on her. “I trusted you. I believed that what we had was real.”

“It is real! I love you with all my heart!”

“You've lived a lie for how many weeks?”

“I told a fib and I'm sorry, but what I've done is not unforgivable,” she pleaded.
Please, God, he has to forgive me. I can't lose him because of one foolish mistake.

Stalking to the door, he refused to answer. She followed him, begging now. “Not unforgivable, Walker. I know you're upset. I understand that I've betrayed you. First Trudy and now me, but I give you my word that I never intended to hurt you, and I don't want to leave you. I love you. You must believe me. You're the only man I want, the man I've dreamed about since I was a young girl. I believe that we would have never found each other if God hadn't planned this—”

“You're blaming God for this nightmare?”

“No! I would never—let me prove to you that I can be trusted. I shouldn't have lied, and I'm paying the price, but I've kept the bargain. I've looked after your house, tried to be of help, and done everything I know to make you happy. Please, Walker—”

“You've made a mockery of marriage, Sarah. How can you speak of God and how he would approve this…this insult?”

She stepped back as he slammed out of the bedroom, the noise jarring her teeth.

Blinking back tears, she bit her lip and sagged against the closed door. “Just say you'll at least think about it,” she whispered brokenly.

Lucy's fan paused, and she brightened as Walker came downstairs. Half rising out of her seat, she smiled. “Mr. McKay—”

The rancher strode past the parlor and disappeared into his study, slamming the door behind him.

As she sank back to the sofa, her fan fluttered harder.