“Your ad said she’s incapacitated,” Mrs. Kevay said.
“Not entirely, but I didn’t want to go into detail for the ad. My clinic and the hospital are near the inn. I live in the inn and could get a nurse at a moment’s notice. But I do want someone to take her food to her when she doesn’t feel like getting up. Someone to make sure she takes her medications and to do personal things for her, such as ensure she’s all right in her bath.”
Neil waved away the waitress who neared with the coffee-pot. This was no time for refills. Neither he nor Mrs. Kevay had touched his or her cup after the conversation began. He lowered his voice to make sure no one away from the table could hear. Mrs. Kevay leaned slightly toward him. “She’s known as Mama McCory,” he said. “Her dream is to see me married, which she feels will ensure that the home they turned into an inn will continue to serve the people and tourists of Sunrise.”
“That’s a worthy goal,” Mrs. Kevay said.
Apparently he hadn’t alienated her, but he couldn’t tell about the daughter. He really didn’t care to look at the younger woman and think about a stranger becoming his wife. She was probably thinking something similar. But he’d gone this far, and they hadn’t left the table. “Mama McCory knows I don’t have time to supervise the running of the inn.”
“Why, Dr. McCory, can’t you hire someone for that?”
“Hired help comes and goes. A couple who has been with us for years wants to retire. My grandmother needs a companion—someone to make her last days pleasant and give her a hope for the future of her family and home. You see, to make her happy, I need a wife to keep the name of McCory and the inn alive. I want to give my grandmother her dying wish since she cared for me most of my life and paid for my medical school training.”
He felt it time to get to the point. “I need someone to pretend to be my wife for a year, be a companion for my grandmother, live in the inn, learn to manage it, be paid a weekly salary, be content with a marriage of convenience, and agree to an annulment after a year.”
Having finished, he knew if something like this ever got out, he’d be finished in more ways than one and be the laughing-stock of the county. He leaned back, just then realizing he had been sitting quite straight and stiffly. He spread his hands. “That’s my story.”
Mrs. Kevay’s eyebrows lifted. “Why, Dr. McCory, I would think a respectable, nice-looking, established man like you could find several decent women who would jump at the chance to marry you.”
Neil wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or condemnation, so he didn’t thank her. But he did feel he needed to defend himself, lest they think he was totally undesirable. “Well, there have been a few who might have married me, had I asked. But I didn’t care to make a permanent commitment with any of them.”
“Ohh.” Mrs. Kevay clicked her tongue, and he detected a gleam in her eyes. “You’re one of those confirmed bachelors? Why, Dr. McCory, why ever so, might I ask?”
He might as well spill the whole pot of beans. These two now knew more about him than he liked to admit to himself. “I came close to marriage once, Mrs. Kevay. But my intended decided that living in a mountain town was not for her. She was a city girl and could never adjust to my backwoods way of life.” He felt the sting of that. “We parted amicably.”
“Oh, that must have hurt your heart, having to choose between your grandmother and your fiancée.”
Neil felt quite warm from the sun beating through the window against the back of his vest. He felt it all the way through his white shirt. For a long moment, he pondered her statement. In reality, he hadn’t thought of it as a choice between the two women. He’d simply known a wife of his must love his grandmother and be a part of life in Sunrise. Now he felt like the sun was shining on his face instead of on his back and head. “Well, just as my fiancée wasn’t ready for life in a mountain town, I wasn’t prepared for a life as a city doctor. As long as she is alive, I will take care of my grandmother.”
“But after Mama McCory. . .”
The sympathetic expression on Mrs. Kevay’s face and in her voice led Neil to nod. “Who knows?” he said, not wanting to think of facing life without his beloved grandmother. He liked the way Mrs. Kevay had said his grandmother’s name. “I want to make her happy as long as I can.”
Mrs. Kevay nodded. “Dr. McCory, would none of those young women you mentioned consider this arrangement?”
He shook his head. He knew his face had to be red. “No, ma’am. They wouldn’t consider a—” He stopped his words. Men didn’t discuss some things with ladies. “They wouldn’t consider what I stipulated in the newspaper ad.”
“Oh, I see.” Her voice had become singsong. “Well. This is quite. . .interesting, to say the least.”
He cleared his throat and dared a glance at the young woman behind the glasses. “Miss Kevay,” he said gently, lest he frighten such a passive creature—or was she embarrassed? “Will you tell me why you would consider this arrangement? And something about your background?”
The poor girl closed her eyes for a long moment, then barely opened them but did not look at him or her mother. Was she deaf, dumb. . .or both? Or. . .something worse? Like. . . deranged?
He wouldn’t be surprised if she had a fit. He felt like having one himself.
❧
With eyelids at half-mast, Olivia slid a sideways glance at the man Stella called “Dr. McCory.” What kind of doctor was he? An animal doctor or a people doctor? She couldn’t very well ask if he had a pill that might make her disappear. What had she and Stella gotten themselves into?
Strangely, she had begun to think of this interview as real. His story about the loss of his parents and his love for his grandmother touched her heart. She wouldn’t mind having a sweet old grandmother. Actually, she’d begun to wish she might have applied for the job legitimately.
But she hadn’t. She thought of her father’s having said that acting was the worst kind of job for a decent woman. Wouldn’t he squirm to know about this! Well, he’d made her squirm enough times. She took a deep breath, wondering what to say, and shot a helpless glance at her aunt.
Stella patted Olivia’s arm. “Dr. McCory, it’s difficult for my daughter to talk about her papa, whose livelihood comes from the mining town beyond Sunrise.”
Olivia wondered what her aunt might say. She’d better listen carefully in case it became her new identity.
“Juliet and I live in a little cabin here in Canaan Valley. Before that,” she said, “Juliet’s life was difficult living in the mining area beyond Sunrise.”
He spoke quietly. “Yes, I know something of the difficult life in mining towns.”
Unexpectedly, Olivia felt the pain of having lost her mother. How could she say that her father was a wealthy man who owned several mines and logging companies? When she was growing up, they lived in a big house away from the mines—quite a contrast to the little box houses in which miners lived. After her mother died in childbirth, she and her father moved to the city.
Stella was painting a true picture of her wanting to leave the mining area. But she knew this doctor assumed she had led a life of poverty and misery. She hadn’t lived a life of poverty—only misery.
But it was too late to tell the truth. This man had revealed his heart to her and Stella. That couldn’t have been easy, especially since they were strangers.
If she considered this job, she never wanted him to know that she and Stella had begun this as a joke, a fun adventure. This man would not think it funny.
She decided to speak lest he think her not qualified for the position. “Dr. McCory,” she said, still not meeting his eyes, “I did get a college education in Davidson, and contrary to what your fiancée preferred, I don’t want to live in the city.” That was certainly true. She wanted to be in New York long enough to attend acting school. Then she wanted to be an actress traveling the United States, maybe even the world.
“And you asked why I would consider this job. Only one reason, sir.”
She stared at the table. “The reason is money.”
five
The young woman’s articulate way of speaking surprised Neil. She obviously knew how to be quiet and let her mother talk, but he felt she had no problem providing information. Her words were few, but she had expressed them well.
Was there a possibility this might work? Of course this one meeting wasn’t enough for any of them to make a commitment about the job offer. “If you are seriously considering this,” he said, looking from one who met his gaze to the other who didn’t, “I want to invite you to visit the inn and meet my grandmother. If either of us decided against the arrangement, I can say you were applying for a job. However, if all goes well, I can then surprise her by announcing my. . .um. . .our. . . engagement.”
He wouldn’t blame them if they backed out. Their feet might be as cold as his about this situation, so he quickly added, “After you come to the inn, if you don’t want the position, then I will simply go on with my life as usual.”
Mrs. Kevay gave a brief nod. Her daughter said, “Thank you. I would like to see the inn. . .and your grandmother.”
“Miss Kevay, we will need to be on a first-name basis when you come to the inn.” He took her silence as assent. Remembering the name on the first letter, he said, “I should address you as Juliet, right?”
When she nodded, he tried to lighten his mood. “I’m often called Dr. McCory, Doc, or Mac. But I think you would prefer calling me Neil.”
Neither of the women laughed, but Juliet nodded.
If pigs sweat, he’d be sweating like one. Heat rose to his face again at what he must say. He dared not look at Juliet but kept his focus on Mrs. Kevay. “There is the matter of dress. I will be glad to provide the cost of clothing. I. . .”
His voice trailed off when Mrs. Kevay’s eyebrows lifted and her eyes widened. “You mean,” she said, “you want someone who looks like a citified fiancée?”
He hedged. “Not exactly.” But his grandmother would never believe he fell in love with this plain creature with grotesque spectacles, even if she did have a nice way of speaking.
“Well,” Mrs. Kevay huffed, and he thought he’d completely alienated the two women. Her stiff manner now reminded him of a stern schoolteacher who had looked down her nose at him when he was a boy and scared the wits out of him.
“Just because we live in a small cabin in Canaan Valley and have spent part of our lives around the poverty of the mining area, Dr. McCory. . .”
He was already nodding, bracing himself for a cup of coffee being slung into his face, the thump of the Bible smacking him on his head, or a tongue-lashing.
The woman stared. She did have striking, unusual green eyes. They were extremely large. He swallowed hard. She drew herself up, and her upper lip seemed to curl slightly. Juliet, or maybe he should revert to thinking of her as Miss Kevay, appeared to inch back from the table.
“Dr. McCory, we will not take one penny of your money without giving one minute’s work. We are honorable people, sir. And I have been in a city or two in my life and have observed young women and their clothing. You can believe I know how to fix up my daughter in the proper uniform for the job for which she is applying.”
The younger woman seemed to become strangled on something, but she hadn’t even a glass of water. Probably, like he, she felt about ready to choke on this entire situation. “About a uniform,” he said. “I wouldn’t want her to look like a waitress, although I do need someone who can cook or can learn.”
Mrs. Kevay reached over and patted his hand. The length and curve of her fingernails surprised him, as did the softness of her hand. He would expect her to have the rough hands of a hard worker. But of course, there were many kinds of hard work. He put in more time as a doctor than many men he knew, but that didn’t give him the calloused hands of a miner or a logger.
“Dr. McCory,” she said sweetly, “my use of the word ‘uniform’ was just a figure of speech. I understand you want someone attractive enough that your grandmother, and your acquaintances, would believe you’d fall in love with her. And at the same time, she must be a sweet, kindhearted girl who doesn’t want the fancy trappings of city life but would capture your heart with her goodness.” She patted the Bible.
Neil felt a sense of fear and trembling that God might not be in on this. For what seemed like the umpteenth time, he cleared his throat. Mrs. Kevay was an astute woman—more so than he would have thought upon first look. But then, she did have those fancy fingernails. He’d like to have a look at Juliet’s fingernails, but he surmised from the movement of her arms that she might be twisting her hands beneath the table.
“I don’t mean to be insulting.” He turned his head toward Juliet, and she as quickly turned hers away from him. “And this is not only about looks. It’s about meeting the proper requirements for a job.”
“I quite understand, Dr. McCory. The work presents no problem. And I think my Juliet can meet with your approval after I fix her up. And, too,” she said with acuity, “I realize your grandmother would need to approve your choice. But there are two sides to this. I and my daughter will need to be certain that she will be happy and treated well in this position.” She added very quietly, “If she is interested in you as an employer.”
At that, Mrs. Kevay slapped her hand on Juliet’s coffee receipt and slid it toward herself. He did not insist upon paying, since this woman’s act displayed principles. Juliet ducked her head and had to push her glasses up to keep them from falling off her face. He wished they had. However, he said, “Very well. When would be a convenient time for you to visit the inn?”
Mrs. Kevay began pulling on her gloves. “This afternoon,” she said and stood.
“Fine. If you will meet me at my clinic, I will escort Juliet to the inn from there.”
After finalizing the plans, Mrs. Kevay said, “We will be there, Dr. McCory.” She paid her bill and led her daughter out.
❧
“Is this wrong?” Olivia moaned and removed the spectacles from her face as soon as she and Stella were heading away from town. Had she not been hiding behind them, she never could have gone through that fiasco of an interview.
“Wrong? For who? Dr. McCory advertised. He needs a temporary wife, his grandmother needs a companion, you need a job, and I need—” Stella grimaced, looking over at Olivia with a puppy dog expression in her eyes. “I needed. . .to stay out of things?”
Olivia burst into laughter, shaking her head. That helped release the tension she’d felt from the moment Dr. Neil McCory walked into that restaurant with a Bible. “It’s a little late to stay out of things, don’t you think?”
Stella laughed then, and having driven out of town, yanked off the brown wig and handed it to Olivia. She shook her head while the curls bounced back to life. “Well, we did it. You’re on your way to being a married woman.”
“Oh, don’t say it that way. I’m on my way to a job.”
“But,” Stella emphasized, “the job is acting like a married woman.”
“How do I do that?”
Stella glanced at her and grinned. “Just pretend you love. . . Neil.”
“Love?” Olivia shrieked. “I’ve never been in love in my life.”
“Oh yes, you have,” Stella contradicted. “Remember Coco?”
“My dog?”
Stella nodded. “You loved him. He had shiny, dark brown hair, and you wanted to name him Hot Chocolate, but your mama talked you into calling him Coco for short.”
“Yes, Coco was my best friend and confidant.”
Stella reached over and patted Olivia’s arm. “There you have it. That look on your face right now is precious. When you look at Neil in front of other people, just pretend he’s Coco and treat him like he’s your dog.”
Olivia huffed. “I’m not about to look for fleas and ticks on any man!”
They could still laugh and joke, but it was becoming too real and too personal. “Maybe we should forget this whole thing.”
&
nbsp; “Fine,” Stella said. “You want to go back to Daddy?”
Olivia felt caught between a rock and a hard place. “Oh, Stella.”
“Just call me Mama.”
Olivia moaned.
After they returned to the cabin, Stella stood in front of her and held Olivia’s hands. “Honey, if you don’t want to do this, then it’s all right. We’ll look for something else.”
“It’s not that,” Olivia admitted. “Now I kind of wish I had applied for the job legitimately. I don’t like this deception.”
“Don’t think of it as deception, Olivia. Think of it as pretending—acting. Even if Neil McCory knew we responded to that ad as a lark, the two of you would still be pretending to be married and pretending in front of his grandmother.”
That was true. “But what if something happens and I don’t want to be committed to being there for a year?”
Stella smiled. “No problem. You can walk away at any time.”
“But we’ll be legally married.”
“Only if you marry him under the name of Olivia Easton. But to him, my dear, your name is Juliet Kevay. The marriage will not be legal. You can walk away at any time. Now,” she said, letting go of Olivia’s hands, “let’s get you ready to take a job of being an engaged woman, pretty enough to become Mrs. Dr. Neil McCory.”
six
Mrs. Kevay certainly wasted no time. Neil told himself he mustn’t either. After having sat in that hot seat all morning while the sun rose higher, he’d have to bathe and be ready to convince his grandmother that he was either considering hiring a maid or that he had become an engaged man.
After riding Sally up the mountain, he made a quick stop at the clinic. “Carter, everything all right?” he asked his young assistant when Carter looked up from the desk in his office.
“Couldn’t be better,” Carter said with a smile. “Other than taking a look at the stitches in Billy Hooten’s hand, it’s been a slow day.”
A Bride Idea Page 3