Lee sucked in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. "Me."
Mary plopped down on the sofa, lifted her wedding veil, and stared at him. "Tell me this is your idea of a joke."
"I'm afraid not."
"You mean to tell me you hurried to Cheyenne from God knows where to keep me from marrying Pelham?" Her tone of voice made it perfectly clear to Lee that she didn't believe a word of what he'd said.
Lee would have mixed the truth with a few well chosen sugar-coated lies for any other woman, but he knew that wouldn't work with Mary. She had an uncanny ability to see through his blarney, and he respected that ability enough not to lie to her. "I didn't know anything about Pelham Cosgrove III. I rushed here from Chicago to Denver to Cheyenne"—he didn't think it would hurt to let her know how far he had traveled on her behalf—"because I happen to be in the market for a wife."
Mary raised her eyebrow in a gesture identical to her brother, David's. "I don't believe you."
"I came here to ask you to marry me." He raised his right hand. "I swear it."
"Be careful that God doesn't strike you dead, Lee," she warned. "Remember where you are."
"God doesn't strike men down for telling the truth."
He had the angelic, innocent look of a choirboy on his face and Mary found herself struggling not to smile. "Well, if you are telling the truth, it ought to be a unique experience for you."
"I can tell you don't believe me—" he began.
"Really? Am I that transparent?"
"But I can prove it to you." For the second time in less than an hour, Lee reached inside his coat pocket for the jeweler's box. He knelt in front of the sofa, at Mary's feet, and opened the lid.
The betrothal ring came as a complete surprise. She had never credited Liam Kincaid with having taste, but Mary had to admit his selection of engagement rings was impeccable—much better than Pelham's. If the truth were known, she hadn't been upset at forfeiting Pelham's pearl-encrusted gold ring or the matching pearl-encrusted wedding band, only at losing what it represented. Although she had kept her opinion to herself, Mary considered the pearl monstrosity overdone and gaudy, whereas the ruby and diamond ring and plain gold band Lee held in his hand were marvels of elegance and simplicity. Had he known rubies were her favorite stone? Had he guessed right, or…
Uncomfortable with the turn of her thoughts, Mary straightened her backbone and firmed her mouth into a thin, disapproving line. "Did you pick that out yourself? Or steal it from the hand of some unsuspecting ladylove?"
Lee placed a hand over his heart and pretended to fall back on his heels. "Mary, you wound me. You know you're my only ladylove."
"I know no such thing. From what I've seen you propose to women on a regular basis."
"That just goes to show how much you know," he repeated her earlier words. "I chose that ring because I thought it suited you." Lee quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't know you had fondness for pearls in gaudy gold settings."
"I don't," Mary snapped. "And I distinctly remember you shamelessly proposing to my sister-in-law in front of the entire population of Peaceable, Wyoming, not even five full months ago."
Lee nodded. "So I did," he agreed, "but that was different. I was only trying to fulfill my promise to her brother and show your brother what a stubborn fellow he was." Lee smiled. "Are you still holding a grudge over that?"
Mary snorted. "I have better things to do than hold a grudge over something you did months ago."
"I'm glad to hear it," Lee told her, a wry expression on his face. "Nevertheless, I think I should have bought you an emerald instead of a ruby. If I'd known you were so jealous, I would have."
"I'm not jealous!"
"Oh, yes, you are," Lee assured her. "It's probably caused by your unfortunate warrior heritage"—he echoed Pelham's disapproving tone of voice, then winked at Mary—"or, maybe it's because you like me much more than you think you do."
"I do not."
"Oh, don't worry, Mary. I like for my women to be jealous. It makes me feel wanted."
"Women?" Mary repeated. "You said women. Plural."
"And you said you weren't jealous."
He had her there, and Mary knew it. "This isn't a game of flirtation." Mary changed the subject. "I'm serious."
"So am I."
She eyed him thoughtfully. She didn't trust him, at least not completely, but there was definitely something about him that she liked. "Maybe you are serious about this," Mary agreed. "But I'm not some little schoolgirl you can charm out of her clothes. I'm not stupid enough or arrogant enough to believe you're offering marriage because you suddenly realized you're head over heels in love with me." Even as she said the words she knew were true, Mary prayed she was wrong—prayed he had realized he was head over heels in love with her.
Lee nodded. Once again, he was tempted to sweeten his answer with romance-laced lies, but he knew his instincts about Mary were right on the money. No matter how unpalatable, she wanted the undiluted truth. "You're right," he told her, "you're not a naive schoolgirl. You're the teacher, and I'd be stupid if I tried to pull the wool over your eyes because as a teacher, you know all the answers, don't you? You know I didn't come running back because I suddenly discovered I'm in love with you." Lee took a deep breath. "But do you know that I've been thinking recently of leaving the Agency and settling down? And do you know that when I thought of settling down, I naturally thought of you?"
"Naturally," Mary replied dryly. "It stands to reason that a Pinkerton detective would choose to marry a woman who, in the course of their acquaintance"—Mary stressed the word—"has twice pulled a gun on him with every intention of plugging him full of holes. And will again," she warned him, "at the first opportunity."
"Not so," Lee said. "I've no doubt in my mind that if you really wanted to shoot me full of holes you would have done so before now."
Mary smiled. "I think I've shown remarkable restraint up 'til now."
"So have I, up 'til now." Lee pocketed the ruby ring, then leaned closer and touched his lips to hers. It began as a light, teasing kiss, something Lee couldn't keep himself from experiencing, but it suddenly grew into something more. A heated rush surged through Lee's body as he kissed her again and felt Mary sway against him. He pulled her closer as he deepened the kiss, then reached up under her wedding veil, tangling his fingers in her thick, silky hair before running them down past her shoulders to feel the weight of her breasts in his hands.
Mary was overwhelmed by her response to Lee's kiss. She leaned toward him, then wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips to allow his tongue to slip through and taste the warm recesses of her mouth. Suddenly Lee was on the sofa beside her and Mary was surrounded by his arms. She molded herself against him, enjoying the taste of his mouth under the soft brush of his mustache, and his warm, spicy smell. She breathed in the scent of him and pressed closer to the source. Lee groaned aloud. Mary pushed away from him, gasping for breath. She felt light-headed, giddy, and incapable of rational thought. She opened her eyes and found herself staring up into Lee's gray ones. Mary smiled at him and Lee leaned down to plant a line of kisses from her forehead to her lips. She closed her eyes once again and whispered his name and the sound of it coming from her lips seemed to echo through the room. Mary suddenly realized she was lying on the sofa instead of sitting on it, and that Liam Kincaid had one of his hands on the bare skin of her thigh, under her wedding dress and above the frilly garter holding her silk stocking in place.
"What are you doing?" she gasped, shoving at his chest with all her might as she jack-knifed into a sitting position.
"Kissing you," Lee murmured as he let go of her leg and helped her smooth her satin skirts back into place. "And enjoying the feel of having you kiss me." He sat up and moved a few inches away from her. His breathing was heavy and irregular and his heart seemed to thud against his chest at twice its normal speed. Lee stared at Mary. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her brown eyes sparkled with emotion, and her chee
ks were flushed. She looked the way he imagined every bride should look on her wedding night, but Mary wasn't a bride—at least not yet. He shrugged his shoulders. "Come on, Mary, admit it," he coaxed, "you enjoyed kissing me. Better than old Pelham I bet."
"Much bet—" Mary clapped her hand over her mouth, refusing to say more.
There was a teasing light in Lee's gray eyes when he looked at her and his thick mustache tilted upward in a smile. "Well, Mary Two-shot, what's it to be? Will you marry me? Yes or no?"
Mary wanted to throw her arms around him once again, kiss him senseless, and shout yes loud enough for the whole world to hear, but her instincts warned her not to be foolhardy and reckless. "I don't know."
Lee raked his fingers through his blond hair. "Hell, Mary, what don't you know?"
"I don't know why you're here," she told him, "or what you expect from me. Or why you're in such a hurry to get married."
"I've told you why I'm here and what I want from you." Lee's face was the picture of innocence wronged. "I want us to be a family. I want to marry you. And why not marry you today? You're dressed for it."
Mary didn't hear all of what Lee was saying. She only heard him say, "I want us to be a family." She suddenly had a mental picture of Lee holding the little girl with the dark hair and the bright blue eyes in his arms. Maddy. He'd called her Maddy. Mary shook her head. There were many sides to Lee Kincaid, many faces he kept hidden, so much so that things were never what they appeared to be—not where he was concerned. Suddenly everything seemed so clear. "I should have known," she muttered.
"What?"
"That you have some kind of scheme going and that you want to involve me somehow," Mary replied sarcastically.
"There's no scheme, Mary." Lee reached out to put his hand on Mary's knee.
She batted his hand away. "Then what about the little girl? What part does she play in your marriage plans?"
Lee gritted his teeth, nodded his head a time or two, then stroked one side of his mustache. "Her name is Madeline. Maddy for short. She's the daughter of a Pinkerton detective who passed away nine days ago."
"I'm sorry," Mary murmured softly.
"Yeah," Lee said sadly, "so am I."
"You must have been very close."
"We were partners." He glanced over at Mary.
"And he left his daughter to you?"
Lee winced at her question. "Maddy doesn't have anyone else. My partner left her in my care and I thought…" Lee let his words trail off, not quite sure what to say anymore.
"You thought you could simply waltz onto the ranch and drop her off for someone else to take care of," Mary finished for him.
"No, damn it, I thought I could waltz onto the ranch, sweep you off your feet, and give her a mother to take care of her."
"You don't love me," Mary said.
Lee got up from the sofa and began to pace. "What difference does that make?" he asked. "You don't love me either."
"It makes a great deal of difference," Mary protested, "when two people are thinking about getting married."
"Oh, yeah?" Lee argued. "What about Pelham Everhardt Cosgrove III? I suppose you were madly in love with him."
"Maybe I am."
"And maybe I'm the king of England." Lee quirked an eyebrow at her. "I can tell from your kisses just how broken up you are over his desertion."
"What I shared with Pelham is none of your business! He's a fine upstanding gentleman, which is more than I can say about you."
"Thank God!"
"The simple fact of the matter is that you came to Cheyenne to ask me to marry you because you've gotten yourself into something you don't know how to handle." Mary summarized Lee's situation. "Though why you thought I would do you any favors is beyond me."
Lee looked her right in the eyes. "Maybe I thought I was doing you a favor. Maybe I thought I was doing all of us a favor—Maddy, me, and you," he said softly. "Maybe I somehow got the idea into my head that you might be tired of teaching school and having to carry that little silver gun of yours in your pocket all the time for protection against rough cowpokes and amorous Indians. Maybe I thought you might like to have a family all your own. Maybe I thought you'd make a decent wife and a damn good mother." Lee turned away from Mary and walked to the door. "And maybe, just maybe, I'm crazy as hell to think so." He reached for the doorknob.
If he had lied to her or tried to sway her with his Irish charm, she could have turned him down without a second glance, but he had spoken the truth. Her truth. For some inexplicable reason, Lee Kincaid knew how she felt.
"Lee…" Mary's voice stopped him.
"Yeah?" he turned back around to face her.
Mary held out her left hand. "Maybe you're not as crazy as you think."
Lee walked over to the sofa and took the ruby and diamond ring out of his pocket. He grasped Mary's hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. "And maybe I'm even crazier."
* * *
Chapter Six
Lee Kincaid might doubt his sanity, but as Mary watched him slip a thin gold band onto the third finger of her left hand some twenty minutes later, she knew she had definitely gone stark raving mad. She didn't know what had possessed her to agree to this. Lee didn't love her. He probably didn't even like her much—not nearly as much as she liked him. But he needed her. And Mary was more than willing to take advantage of that fact. The man who had filled her dreams in the months since she had met him had finally taken note of her. For once in her life, she wasn't just an aunt, a sister, a daughter, or a granddaughter. And, unlike Pelham, Lee Kincaid wasn't interested in her family connections or how much money she had in the bank. He knew her family's worth. He had worked with David and Reese and been friends with them for over a decade. He might have reasons for marrying her that didn't equal love, but marrying her for her money wasn't one of them. He needed her. No, she ruthlessly reminded herself seconds later, he didn't need her—Mary Alexander—he simply needed a wife to mother a motherless child. Any woman would have sufficed.
But, Mary concentrated on the thought, he chose her.
"You may kiss the bride," Father Joseph announced, glancing from Lee to Mary and then back to Lee. "Congratulations."
Mary looked up as Lee lifted her wedding veil from her face, then closed her eyes as he bent down and lightly touched his lips to hers. His mustache softly brushed her cheek, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings. Mary kept her eyes closed, anticipating more. But to her great disappointment, Lee straightened, gently took her by the elbow and turned her around to face the wedding guests.
She froze. Mary hadn't expected to see any guests other than her family, lining the pews of the church. Nor did she remember seeing them when she re-entered the sanctuary, but the pews were packed—even more crowded than before. The people who had come to see her married to Pelham Cosgrove III had stayed to see her become Mrs. Liam Gordon Maclntyre Kincaid. And it appeared that other guests had joined them. Mary spotted the society editor of The Cheyenne Leader scribbling away in her little notebook and squeezed her eyes shut, envisioning the write-up her wedding would make.
"Mary?" Lee urged her forward. "They're waiting for us to walk down the aisle as husband and wife. Come on, chin up. You have more than enough courage to handle this." He stepped forward. Mary followed, her head held high. "That's more like it." Lee praised her. "Here, take your bouquet," He reached over, accepted Mary's flowers from Tessa, then handed them to his bride. Their fingers touched beneath the flowers. Mary's were as cold as ice. They were halfway down the aisle when Lee motioned for Judah and Maddy.
"Mary," Lee said when the elderly gentleman and the little girl joined them in the aisle. "This is Mr. Judah Crane. He's an attorney who represents the estate of the friend I told you about, as well as being a close family friend." Lee turned to Judah. "Judah, this is Miss Mary Alexander," he grinned at his slip of the tongue, "I mean the former Miss Mary Alexander. She's Mrs. Liam Kincaid now."
Maddy whined and danced from one foot to t
he other as Judah let go of her hand to shake Mary's. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Kincaid."
Lee released his hold on Mary and reached down to pick up Maddy. "You've already met Maddy," he said to his new bride, "but you haven't been officially introduced. Mary, meet Maddy. Madeline Gray." Lee smiled at the child in his arms. "Maddy, this is the pretty lady I told you about. Her name is Mary." Maddy stared at Lee, a solemn expression on her little face, then flung her arms around his neck and held him tight.
Seeing the two of them together—her new husband and his ward—made Mary want to follow Maddy's example and fling her arms around them both and hold them close to her heart. She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked at the sheen of tears clouding her vision.
"Lovely wedding, ma'am." Judah bowed to Mary. "Thank you most kindly for inviting us." He turned to Lee. "I know I should, but I can't remember who you are." He shrugged his thin shoulders. "1 don't think I know any of these people. Lovely bride. Darling little girl. Can we go home now? I'm sure it's time for my nap."
"After breakfast, Judah," Lee said gently.
"Breakfast?" The elderly lawyer sounded as if he'd never heard the word.
Mary stared at Judah. His dark brown eyes were vacant, his face slack, expressionless, and his dark blue waistcoat was turned inside out. Suddenly Mary understood. She held out her hand to him. "Breakfast, Mr. Crane. You know, steak, and eggs and hot biscuits."
"Biscuits?" Judah repeated.
"Never mind," Mary assured him. "When we get home, I'll show you."
"Are we going home?" Judah turned to Lee.
"Eventually," Lee answered. "But right now, we're going to ride out to the ranch for breakfast."
"Good," Judah pronounced. "I'm tired of all these strangers. And I'm sure it must be time for my nap."
Lee turned to Mary, and offered her his arm. "Shall we go to breakfast, Mrs. Kincaid?"
Mary linked her arm through Lee's, then reached out and grabbed Judah by the hand. She smiled shyly at her new husband. She liked this side of Liam Kincaid—the family man side of him. "I'd be delighted, Mr. Kincaid."
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