Walker's Wedding

by Lori Copeland

  “Do I have to come over there and beat it out of you?”

  “I cain’t tell you, Walker. Flo would shoot me. I already opened my big mouth too much.”

  A chill ran up Walker’s spine despite the extreme heat. Sarah’s sickness, her wan features—a whole week spent in bed. Sarah was scatterbrained, but she wasn’t sickly.

  “S.H., is Sarah carrying my child?”

  “Don’t make me tell ya, Walker. I wanna be able to eat and sleep in my own house.”

  Walker leaned over to jerk the saddle back on the post.

  “She can’t be,” he said. “If she was, she would have told me.” She would have used it as a tool to trap him. What better way to bind him than to produce his heir?

  S.H. took off his hat and wiped his temples, shaking his head. “Son, don’t you know nothin’ about havin’ babies? The woman don’t know right away but the signs are there. Ya could be in there rejoicin’ about a baby together, but you’re out here fixin’ straps and sleepin’ on an old bed in the spare room because of some misplaced pride ya think is more important than yer feelin’s for her.” The old man grabbed the cattleman’s shoulders. “Do yourself a favor. Let it go. Ain’t nothin’ nicer than wakin’ up to the woman you love in yer arms. Makes up for a heap of wrongs.” His tone dropped lower. “Forgive her, son. Yer feelings are gonna get mishandled once in a while, but you can survive the hurts with a little more love. Take a page from the Good Book and forgive. You’ll be a better man for it.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The sound of a carriage pulling up to the house drew Sarah away from the vanity, where she’d been absently brushing her hair. When she lifted the bedroom curtain aside, her heart sank. Papa was climbing the porch stairs. That rotten Lucy had wired Papa and told him where she was! Taking a deep breath, Sarah prepared for battle.

  She quickly changed into her best dress, listening to the familiar murmur of her father’s voice downstairs. When Lowell spotted her coming down the stairway, his face crumbled. Despite her resolve her heart ached for him. He’d aged ten years in the months since she’d last seen him.

  “Hello, Papa.”

  Instead of the anticipated explosion, Lowell’s shoulders slumped, his eyes bright with emotion.

  “Dear God. I feared that I might never see you again.”

  Sarah stepped off the last stair and into her father’s arms, hugging him tightly. It felt so good to hold him. “I’m sorry, Papa.”

  “Are you all right, child?”

  “Fine, Papa. And you?”

  “Better, now that I can hold you in my arms.”

  Stepping back, Lowell cleared his throat, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You look lovely.”

  Sarah wrapped her arms around her papa’s waist. “Let’s go into the parlor—”

  Flo cleared her throat from the stairway.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Flo. I was so happy to see Papa that I neglected you.” Sarah introduced the housekeeper to Lowell.

  Flo nodded. “You’ll be needin’ privacy. Use the study.” She smiled at Lowell. “You must be dry as a bone. I’ll fix a pitcher of lemonade.” She saw them into the room and then hurried off, discreetly pulling the double doors closed behind her.

  Lowell sat down on the sofa, rubbing his forehead. Sarah had witnessed the anxious gesture a hundred times over the years when Papa was upset.

  “Sarah Elaine, what have you done?”

  Standing behind Walker’s desk for comfort, Sarah clasped her hands, gathering strength. She wasn’t proud of running away, but given the choice, she’d do it over again for just one hour in Walker McKay’s arms.

  “I know you feel that I’ve done a foolish thing, Papa. I married a man I didn’t know. He could have been cruel or a drunkard, but fortunately he wasn’t—or isn’t. He’s a wonderful man, and I’ve hurt him deeply.” Lifting her chin, she drew a lengthy breath. “I love Walker McKay with all my heart, but…he doesn’t share my feelings.”

  “I know what you did! You took another woman’s place and married a total stranger. You lied to McKay, betrayed me, and made a mockery of the sanctity of marriage. Are there no limits to your absurdity, Sarah?”

  Focusing on her hands, Sarah forced back tears. “It seems there aren’t, Papa.”

  Shaking his head, Lowell sank back against the sofa. He closed his eyes and she wondered if he wished he hadn’t come. “You and this McKay are legally married?”

  “We are.”

  Pain flickered briefly across Lowell’s face.

  “What do you intend to do about this situation?” he asked quietly.

  “I’m not sure.”

  She had given the subject much thought—day and night—but she still had no solution. She didn’t want to return to Boston. She wanted to stay here with her husband, her child, and the new life she’d begun. “I want to remain here, but Walker refuses to discuss the matter with me. When he is speaking to me again, we’ll decide what to do.”

  Getting up, Lowell walked to the window. He stood there for a moment, staring at the overgrown rose garden.

  Sarah watched his changing expressions. It isn’t fitting that Walker leave beautiful flowers unkempt to represent one woman’s betrayal, she thought. Surely each time he looked at the garden, the sight reopened old wounds. Why didn’t he destroy the hateful reminder and cut it out of his life the way he had her pleadings? Sighing, she looked away. But then, had he ever truly opened his heart to her? Perhaps when she left he would simply plant another rosebush in honor of Sarah Livingston.

  “You will come home with me, Sarah. Mr. McKay has been through quite enough because of you.”

  “No, Papa. I can’t come home with you.”

  “You have no other choice, daughter.” Lowell turned from the window, his face blotched with anger. “You can’t expect Mr. McKay to go on as if nothing has happened. You lied to the man and misrepresented yourself. Surely you don’t expect him to turn a blind eye to your whims.”

  “I don’t expect that, but you don’t understand. I’ve been a good wife. I’ve tried to be of help around the house, make friends with his ranch hands, and dutifully fulfill my wifely obligations—” She broke off, blushing when he winced at her openness. “Walker is angry right now, but he’ll cool down, and when he does, I know that I can make him love me again.”

  “Your rosy perspective implies that he loved you before. Is this true?”

  “I don’t know if he loved me, but he liked me, and that’s the first step to love. Given time I know I could have made him love me. You can’t ask me to go back to Boston, Papa. I have to stay here until I know there’s no other choice.”

  “I’ll not have you throwing yourself at a man’s feet, clinging like a pathetic, love-starved pup. You will come home, Sarah, and we’ll find a way to rectify this mistake. We’ll keep this distasteful episode quiet, and people will never know—”

  “I can’t do that, Papa.”

  “You can and you will.”

  Sarah paced the study. Everyone would be the wiser when she delivered Walker’s baby a few months from now. She’d missed her second monthly. Flo was right, she was expecting a child—Walker’s baby.

  The McKay heir.

  If she could only hold on long enough for Walker’s rage to subside, she would tell him about the child, and his broken heart would mend and he would accept her again. If not—

  “There’s no other way, Sarah. Now, pack your things. We’re leaving immediately. My private rail coach is waiting at the station.”

  “No. You don’t understand, Papa. I can’t leave because I’m expecting Walker’s child.”

  A cannon shot would have been less explosive. Lowell’s eyes bulged and the color drained from his face.

  “That’s not possible.”

  “Not possible? Papa, I have been married over two months now. We’ve—”

  Lowell threw up his hands. “No, no, you’re imagining things. It’s too soon. You’re upset about the situation and yo
u—”

  “Papa, I’m going to be a mother. I’m sick to my stomach, I’ve missed my last two monthlies, and I faint at anything. Flo says I’m with child, and I’m scheduled to see the doctor next week.”

  Sinking back to the couch, Lowell mopped his brow.

  “So you see, I can’t leave.” Not that she would if she could.

  Lowell absently stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket. “Does Walker know?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Then all is not lost. A baby makes it even more imperative that you leave. No daughter of mine is going to trap a man into marriage.”

  “Trap? But, Papa—”

  “Is this what you want, Sarah? To offer McKay no way out? Do you for one moment think a marriage could survive if based on treachery and manipulation? Your marriage has already suffered these setbacks, and what have you gained but hurt and disrespect from the man? And rightly so!”

  Sarah didn’t know what she thought. She would never trap Walker. She wanted his whole and undivided love. Anything less would be an abomination, a festering sore incapable of healing. Turning soulful eyes on Papa, she started to cry. “I love him, Papa. I don’t want to leave him.”

  “You cannot make a man love you, Sarah. And you cannot put Walker McKay in a position where he has no choice. My heart breaks for you and the child you’re carrying, but we can’t heap trouble on top of more trouble. Arm-twisting is never the answer, and if you bind Walker to you by obligation, you will forever regret it.”

  Silence fell over the room. Sarah paced yet again, praying for a miracle yet knowing one wasn’t likely.

  “I’ll send Wadsy to see you through the pregnancy. When the child is born, you can come home and then I’ll have the infant brought to us in a few months, saying it’s a foundling and we have chosen to raise it. No one need ever know that it’s your child.”

  “You would allow me to keep the baby?”

  His shoulders slumped. “It’s my grandchild—my flesh and blood. I’m not an ogre, Sarah. I grieve for the circumstances your reckless behavior has brought upon this family, but I love you dearly, and I’ll love your child. We will get through this, and someday you will thank me for saving you from a loveless existence. A fate far worse, child, than admitting a wrong.”

  “But I love him, Papa.” Sarah wept openly now. How could she leave Spring Grass, bear Walker’s child, and live with a visual reminder of the man she loved day after day after day? Where would she find the strength to walk away from Walker McKay? Sobbing harder, she went to her father and buried her face in the front of his shirt. The familiar scent of tobacco reminded her that he was Papa, reminded her of crawling onto his lap as a child when some other hurt found her. As he was then, he remained her one source of security. He was right. She could not, would not, snare Walker. She had done enough already.

  “I will always love him.”

  Awkwardly cradling her in his arms, Lowell said gently, “But love isn’t selfish, Sarah.”

  No, love wasn’t selfish. It was just dreadful.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  It was close to suppertime when Walker finished up in the barn. Diamond’s filly was a rare jewel; she was dark and tall like her mother, but had the markings and spirit of her father.

  Mother nickered quietly to her baby, and the filly responded by starting to nurse. The sight calmed Walker. He was going to be a papa. Would the child have Sarah’s features and be delicate and winsome? Or stubborn like his pa?

  His thoughts skipped back to the day the mare gave birth. She had managed to wait until nearly full term, and Sarah had been like a young schoolgirl, hanging over the stall railing, urging Diamond to bring the filly into the world.

  “Come on, girl. It’s time. You can do it!”

  Walker recalled grinning as Sarah panted, trying to help. Later, she collapsed on a bale of hay, exhausted as if she’d been the proud mother. He’d covered her with a blanket and let her doze as he cleaned up.

  After tossing hay into the other stalls, Walker exited the barn, his gaze drawn to a buggy sitting in front of the house. Company? Who would be visiting at this hour?

  When he came in the back door, Flo put a finger to her lips, her eyes motioning to the study. “Lowell Livingston is here.”

  He continued through the kitchen and into the hall, pausing in front of the study door. Then he turned the doorknob and entered the room.

  Two pairs of eyes focused on him as he removed his hat. The older man extended his hand.

  “You must be Walker McKay. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lowell Livingston, Sarah’s father.” He shook Walker’s hand. “Mr. McKay, I was wondering if I might have a word with you alone.”

  Walker’s gaze traveled to Sarah. For a long moment their gazes locked. “Of course.”

  Sarah eased past him and Walker closed the door behind her. The setting sun threw the room into partial shadow, so he lit a lamp. Sitting down at his desk, he motioned for Livingston to take a chair opposite him.

  “I must apologize for my daughter’s behavior. I can only say that I deeply regret any inconvenience Sarah might have caused. I realize an apology is weak in view of the circumstances, but I can assure you, Mr. McKay, Sarah and I find the whole episode highly regrettable.”

  Walker removed his hat and laid it on the desk. “My name is Walker.”

  “Please call me Lowell.” The older man smiled and Walker saw a strong resemblance between him and his daughter. The same eye shape, the dimple that flashed when they smiled. “By now you’re aware that my daughter has a stubborn streak the likes of which few have ever witnessed. But she’s a good girl, Walker. Forgive the blindness of a doting father, but she has a giving heart.”

  Lowell rubbed his hands together, forming his words carefully. “I’m afraid after her mother died I indulged Sarah more than I should have. I accept full responsibility for her behavior. We argued fiercely the night she ran away. I’ve wished a thousand times I had been more patient with her—tried to understand this need she has for a family of her own. But I wasn’t, and the last two and a half months have been extremely difficult. I’ve been worried sick about her, and when Miss Mallory wired, informing us of Sarah’s location, I can’t tell you how relieved I was to know where she was. I came immediately.”

  “Lucy wired you?” Walker forced back a spurt of anger. Sarah had befriended her and this was the thanks she got.

  “I’ve had Pinkerton’s detectives looking for my daughter for weeks.”

  Walker leaned forward, opening the cigar humidor and offering Lowell one. The older man declined. Sarah’s father looked as if he hadn’t slept much lately. Walker sympathized with him. He hadn’t been doing a whole lot of sleeping himself.

  “I’m sorry, Lowell. If I had known, I would have sent word of her whereabouts.”

  “I don’t hold you responsible, Walker. On the contrary, I’m deeply indebted to you for looking after her.”

  Walker struck a match, meeting his gaze. “It was not an imposition.”

  “Yes. She tells me that she’s never been happier,” Lowell paused, clearing his throat. “We will be leaving for Boston immediately.”

  Walker’s heart skipped a beat as he touched the match to the tip of his cigar. “Leaving?”

  “Yes. Sarah is packing as we speak. Again, I hope that in time you will be able to forgive her. She isn’t mean-spirited, Walker, only misguided and impetuous. Wadsy, her nanny, says she’ll outgrow it. I hope I live to see the day.”

  Walker rose from his desk. “Did she tell you she’s expecting my child?”

  Lowell paused. “Then you know about the baby. She thinks that you don’t.”

  Walker moved to stare out the window. “I didn’t, not until a few hours ago. My foreman let it slip in an unguarded moment.”

  Lowell leaned forward. “I’m a man of great means. The child will want for nothing. You needn’t worry about its welfare. It will be raised in a Christian home, and nothing will be spa
red for its care.”

  “Its welfare?” Walker repeated, closing his eyes. The situation had come to this? His child was an “it”? Something to be discussed in whispered innuendos, with a sense of shame?

  “Sarah’s baby,” Lowell corrected himself. “My grandchild.”

  Walker rubbed a hand across his face. “My son or daughter.”

  “Yes, but under the circumstances I don’t hold you responsible for events beyond your control. I understand your hesitancy about letting the child go. Any man worth his salt would struggle with the dilemma, but let me assure you, we are open to an amicable agreement. Once the child is born, you will be allowed visitation rights, if you so desire.”

  “That’s not acceptable.”

  Lowell shifted in the chair, his eyes focusing on Walker. “Do you have a better suggestion? If it’s a matter of money, I have more than—”

  “Money has nothing to do with it.” Walker met his gaze. “The child is mine as much as Sarah’s. My blood runs through his or her veins.”

  Lowell shook his head, uncertainty filling his eyes. “Then what do you propose?”

  “Sarah stays here.”

  Color flushed the older man’s cheeks.

  “That is out of the question. I won’t permit it. I will not have my daughter in a loveless marriage, McKay. Sarah worships you. If I were to agree to such a marriage, she would inevitably end up hurt, and I will not allow that.”

  “Shouldn’t the good Lord and Sarah be the keeper of her future?”

  “Sarah isn’t thinking clearly. She would jump at the chance to stay. But once the child was born, she would be forced to live with a man who doesn’t love her.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Do you?”

  Sarah burst through the doorway, her fists clenched. Startled, Walker and Lowell turned to face her.

  “How dare you bargain over me like some…some…broodmare? It’s my child and I’ll make the decision of whether to stay or go!”

  “Sarah,” Lowell chided, “we’re only trying to do what’s best for you and the child—”