Walker's Wedding

by Lori Copeland

  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 ab
out 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.”

  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.

  Chapter Thirty

  Sarah? 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?”