Something Borrowed

by Rebecca Hagan Lee

  "Yeah, well, I'd be willing to bet over half the people in the church knew. But they didn't say anything either."

  Everything he said was true. Mary couldn't dispute it, but she couldn't let him have the last word. Something in her refused to let the matter rest. She knew the truth, but she wanted him to say it—dared him to say it. "You didn't save me from humiliation. You set me up!" She flung the words at him like a gauntlet. "Admit it! I was set up!"

  Lee looked down at her. "Yeah, well, welcome to the club."

  "What's that cryptic little remark supposed to mean?" She tugged on his sleeve once again like a belligerent little bulldog holding on to its catch.

  Lee sighed. "It doesn't mean anything, Mary, except that I'm not going to argue with you anymore. What's done is done, and if you can't accept that now, well then, you'll just have to live with it. Now, I'm tired and sleepy, and sick of carrying on what should be a civilized discussion beside a damned outhouse! Come on. There's no need to stand here freezing. We can argue when we get home."

  He was right. There was no sense standing out in the cold when they could argue within the warm confines of a Denver hotel. "Fine." She bit off the word in a manner that eloquently warned him that their discussion was far from over.

  "Fine," Lee repeated as he took hold of Mary's elbow and helped her negotiate the narrow path from the outhouse to the depot. The train engineer blew the warning whistle to inform passengers it was time to begin boarding. Shivering with cold, Mary hurried up the path. Lee tightened his grip on her elbow, steadying her as she tripped over the hem of her skirt.

  "What's wrong with your skirt?" he asked, knowing full well what was wrong.

  "Nothing is wrong with my skirt." She glared at him.

  "Then slow down," he warned, "before you fall and break your neck. I didn't go to all this trouble to get married just to become a widower the first day."

  "You couldn't be so lucky," Mary shot back. "And if we miss the train, don't blame me."

  "It doesn't matter if we miss the train."

  "Of course it matters," Mary told him. "If we miss the train to Denver, we'll have to wait for the next one."

  "We aren't going to Denver. This is the end of the line for us."

  "What?" Mary stopped in her tracks and turned to face Lee. "You're abandoning me, too? You married me just to leave me here in the middle of nowhere?"

  Lee recognized the note of indignation in her voice but he also heard the fear. "No, I'm not abandoning you, Mary. I'm staying here in Utopia," Lee told her as they reached the depot and climbed the two steps leading to the platform.

  Judah struggled from the rocking chair beside the ticket window, grabbed hold of his cane and rose to greet them. He tipped his hat to Mary. "Morning, ma'am."

  Mary forgot her anger at Lee in her pleasure at finding Judah Crane lucid. "Good morning, Mr. Crane."

  Judah glanced at Lee.

  "Judah, you remember my wife, Mary Kincaid," Lee prompted.

  "Yes, of course," Judah responded. "A pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Kincaid."

  "Please, call me Mary," she said.

  "Mary is it," Judah agreed. "And you must call me Judah. Mr. Crane is much too formal a way to address a friend."

  Mary smiled. "Thank you, Judah."

  "You're welcome, Mary." The elderly attorney matched her smile with a smile of his own. "And welcome to Utopia. I hope you'll be very happy living here."

  Mary turned to Lee for confirmation. Live in Utopia?

  Lee nodded. "That's right. Welcome to Utopia, Mrs. Kincaid." He smiled his most charming smile. "Welcome home."

  * * *

  Chapter Nine

  "I don't believe it," Mary said, staring at Utopia's nearly deserted main street as the gusting wind sent spirals of red dust and bits of trash whirling about.

  "Believe it," Lee told her. "Because according to the directions I got from the stationmaster, our house is at the end of Main Street."

  "House?" Mary was genuinely confused.

  "Yep. You and I are the proud owners of a house and silver mine in Utopia, Colorado."

  "You bought a house and a silver mine here? In this town?" Mary looked around. As far as she could tell, there wasn't much to Utopia—certainly nothing to recommend it. The town had obviously already peaked in popularity and was currently on the downswing. Utopia was dying. Anyone with an eye and a modest amount of intelligence could see that.

  "I've never been to Utopia before," he told her. "And I didn't buy the house or the silver mine. I inherited them. Or, rather, Madeline did. Ettinger House and the Ettinger Silver Mine."

  "Maddy's father left her a house and a silver mine?"

  To keep from lying outright. Lee nodded.

  Mary sucked in a breath as another gust of wind caught the hem of her skirt, lifting it a few inches. "So we came here to look at the property?"

  Lee didn't hear her. He focused his attention on the wooden floor around Mary's feet, hoping to catch a glimpse of her bare ankles. He was vastly disappointed and vastly amused when she grabbed a handful of fabric and pulled her skirt tight to keep the wind from lifting it higher. By doing so, she inadvertently managed to give Lee a wonderful view of the outline of her lower body and her long, luscious legs.

  "Lee?"

  "What?" He jerked his gaze away from her skirt.

  "I said we came here to have a look at the property, right?"

  "Wrong."

  "But…" Mary protested.

  "Hey," Lee smiled at her. "We haven't seen the house yet and the stationmaster says it's the biggest one in town."

  Mary glanced around. "That's not saying much."

  "Come on, Mary, where's your spirit of adventure?" Lee teased.

  "I left it on the train," Mary replied glumly as she watched the train chug down the track toward Denver. "Along with my luggage."

  Lee laughed out loud. "I took care of our luggage. It's being delivered to the house."

  "By whom?" Except for their little group and the man behind the cage in the ticket window, the depot appeared to be as empty as the town.

  "I paid the porter to deliver it," he answered. "And he left with our luggage right before I left to get you and Maddy." Lee stared at her meaningfully. "He should have reached the house by now."

  Mary shivered at the thought.

  Lee, thinking it was the cold, placed Mary's bundle of clothing on the rocking chair Judah had vacated, and removed his canvas duster. "Take this." He draped the coat over Mary and Maddy, buttoned the top button, and tucked the ends around Maddy's bare legs.

  "Thank you."

  "Yeah, well," he shrugged. "It's a shame to cover up your pretty skirt with my old canvas duster." And an even bigger shame to hide those wonderful legs, he thought. "But…"

  She glanced at him sharply. The look in his gray eyes contrasted with the all too innocent expression on his face. "But what?"

  "But I imagine you need it more than I do."

  "Why…" Mary stopped to clear her throat and start over when her voice came out several octaves higher than normal. "Why would you imagine that?"

  Lee struggled to keep a straight face. "Our new abode is at the end of this street. And you seem to be having some trouble with the wind catching your skirt." He watched as Mary straightened her back and raised her chin a notch higher. "Are you ready?"

  "As much as I'll ever be," she muttered beneath her breath.

  "Okay." Lee picked up Mary's bundle and led the way down the platform steps. "Let's go home."

  During the walk through town, Judah pointed out the meager sights. "There's Kinter's Livery Stable on the right. And the Ajax Saloon and Assayer's Office. Used to be soiled doves in the Ajax," Judah confided to Lee. "But not anymore. Now it's just a place for drinking, gambling, and mining business. The Silver Bear, across the street," Judah continued, "that's the place to go for women—" Suddenly remembering Mary's presence, Judah tipped his hat. "Beg pardon, ma'am. I was just saying the Silver Bear is the pl
ace for young men to go if they're unmarried. Of course, Mr. Kincaid won't be frequenting the place."

  "No offense taken, Judah," Mary replied. She couldn't object to Judah's commentary on the town watering holes because she was so very relieved to know he remembered them—for today, at least. "Please, continue," she encouraged him.

  "Over there's Sherman's General Store." Judah pointed to a building with the windows boarded over.

  "Is it open?" Mary asked.

  "Yes, ma'am. Mr. Buford, the owner, keeps it open six days a week. Every day but Sunday."

  "The owner's name is Buford?" Lee asked.

  "Yes."

  "Then why is it called Sherman's General Store? Was that the name of a previous owner?"

  "No." Judah smiled and shook his head. "It's just Jed Buford's sense of humor. You see, Jed's originally from Georgia. General Sherman's troops burned his first home and business during their march to the sea—after they had looted it, of course. So Jed came west, settled in Utopia during the silver boom, and made a comfortable living supplying the mine owner and the miners. He says he's better off now than he ever was back in Georgia. Naming his store after General Sherman is his idea of a jest."

  "But why does he keep the windows boarded?" Mary wanted to know.

  "Has to," Judah admitted. "The southerners around here and the Southern sympathizers keep breaking them."

  "But Buford is a Southerner," Lee remarked, impressed by Jed Buford's stubborn resistance.

  "I guess the other Southerners don't appreciate Jed's sense of humor."

  "Or his property," Mary added. "Why doesn't the sheriff do anything about it?" She nodded toward the sheriff's office.

  "Well, we have a sheriff's office," Judah replied. "But we don't have a sheriff anymore."

  Mary gasped. She didn't want to ask the question, but her knowledge of the danger inherent in Lee's occupation frightened her. "Was he killed in the line of duty?"

  "No, ma'am," Judah replied. "He ran off last summer with one of the women from the Silver Bear. I heard he took up gambling down in Dodge City, but I can't say for sure. Utopia's become rather boring, I'm afraid." Judah shook his head. "There isn't much for a sheriff to do. Not like the old days."

  Judah sounded so sad, Mary hurried to change the subject. "What was that, Mr. Crane?" she asked, indicating the pile of burned and blackened debris situated on the lot between the sheriff's office and Sherman's General Store.

  "That was my office," Judah replied matter-of-factly. "That's where I set up my practice. Judah Crane, Attorney-at-Law."

  "Oh, Judah, I'm so sorry," Mary apologized. "I didn't know."

  "That's quite all right," the elderly gentleman assured her. "I didn't expect you to. You're new to Utopia. You couldn't have known the crazy old lawyer forgot to bank the coals in his stove and burned his office down." He stared at Mary and the look in his brown eyes was perfectly lucid for a moment longer, but it started to fade with his next words. "I lived there, too, you know. I had a nice, cozy little apartment in back. A real nice place." Then the intelligent, articulate gentleman lawyer vanished before Mary's eyes. "It's around here somewhere." He glanced around at the ashes, then became childlike once again. "I'll find it."

  Devastated by the change she felt she had caused in Judah, Mary turned to Lee. "I'm so sorry. I never meant…" Her voice broke, "I mean I never would have mentioned it if I had known or even suspected…"

  "Mary." Lee touched her elbow.

  "Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let me go on?"

  "I didn't think anything about it," Lee told her. "I knew he had accidentally set fire to his office, but I didn't think about it until…" He let his words trail off.

  "Until I mentioned it." Mary hugged Maddy tightly. "I feel so horrible. He was so intelligent, so witty and entertaining. Now he's like a child again, and it's all my fault."

  "It isn't anybody's fault. Not yours, not mine, not Judah's. It's part of aging, Mary. Just a part of living a long life. We'll take him home with us until he remembers where he's supposed to be." He stared at Mary, and the earnest expression on her lovely face tugged at Lee's heartstrings. She cared so much—maybe too much, and she could be hurt so easily. He reached out and touched her cheek with the tip of his finger. "Don't agonize over it," he said. "You didn't mean any harm. Judah won't remember an innocent blunder for long."

  "How can you be sure?"

  "Because he is like a child." Lee touched the tip of her reddened nose. "He dismisses the bad and remembers the good."

  "Thank you." Mary smiled at him.

  Lee shrugged his massive shoulders. "We can't have you worrying about little things when there are bigger things to agonize over." He pointed to the wrought-iron fence surrounding the building at the end of Main Street. Lee whistled in awe. "The stationmaster was right when he said we couldn't miss it. Look."

  The house standing before them was an amalgam of nearly every architectural style known to man. Made of wood, stucco, and stone, it combined Moorish and Gothic styles on a Queen Anne frame. It resembled a castle, and boasted turrets, gargoyles, stained glass windows, and a collection of statuary depicting various Greek gods. There was even a faded red pennant flying from a staff on the roof of one of the turrets. Ettinger House wasn't just a house; it was a bonafide mansion situated on a lot the size of a city block, and was quite impressive despite its peeling paint and neglected state.

  "Oh my goodness," Mary breathed, overwhelmed at the massive task ahead of her. "Would you look at the size of this house?"

  "House," Maddy echoed. "My house."

  Lee reached over and ruffled Maddy's dark curls. "Yeah, sweetheart, it's your house."

  "It must have cost a fortune to build," Mary said.

  Lee nodded. "It's too bad Maddy didn't get the fortune along with the house."

  Mary wasn't too surprised that there was no money to go along with the house. A house this size would cost a small fortune to maintain. And it was obvious that Maddy's father hadn't been able to afford the upkeep. How could he have afforded it on a Pinkerton agent's salary? And for that matter, how would Lee? She glanced over at her husband. "We're not actually going to live here, are we?"

  "I'm afraid so," Lee said. "It's one of the conditions listed in the will."

  Mary chewed on her bottom lip. She had money of her own left to her by her uncle, and the interest from investments Reese and David had made for her. It might be enough to support them for a while, but not indefinitely.

  "Cheer up, Mary." Lee tried to reassure her. "It won't be forever."

  She had an idea that there was a lot more about the house, the silver mine, and the terms of Maddy's father's will that Lee wasn't telling her. Mary didn't like the jovial note in his voice: She didn't trust it. Her instincts warned her that she wasn't going to like the answer to her question, but she asked it anyway—and dreaded his reply. "How long?"

  "Until Maddy reaches her majority."

  "Eighteen years." The number horrified her. She didn't have enough money to support them and this huge monstrosity of a house for eighteen years!

  Lee winced. "The actual number in the will is twenty."

  "I guess he added two extra years for good measure."

  Mary muttered in the exact same way a judge would pronounce sentencing on a condemned man. "Are you sure Maddy's father was your friend?"

  "Positive."

  "Hmmf," she sniffed.

  Lee couldn't help but laugh. "Mary, Mary, what am I going to do with you? I never dreamed you were such a pessimist. We haven't seen the inside of the house yet."

  "I've seen all I want to see."

  "Yeah, well, cover your eyes because we're going inside." Lee unlatched the iron gate and pushed it open.

  Mary didn't budge.

  "Come on." Lee reached out, gripped Mary's arm and gently urged her forward. "You'll see, it won't be all bad."

  "I'll bet the inside is every bit as bad as the outside."

  "If it is, we'll have i
t put to rights in no time." Lee held the gate open and waited for Mary to enter.

  "That's easy for you to say," she accused. "You won't have to clean this place."

  "Mary." He spoke her name in a firm voice that brooked no further argument.

  "All right." She grabbed a handful of skirt, lifted it a few inches as she stepped through the gate, then preceded Lee up the brick walkway to the house. She paused as she reached the porch. A pile of luggage was neatly stacked beside the front door. Mary stood tapping her foot impatiently as Lee inserted the key into the lock and opened the front door. "Let's get this over with." Mary took another step forward but Lee stopped her.

  "What is it?" she demanded, her brown-eyed gaze shooting sparks at him.

  "Princess, your castle awaits."

  "I don't understand."

  "I believe it's customary to carry the bride over the threshold, and you're the only bride around." Lee gave her his most devastating smile, then bent and lifted her and Maddy into his arms and carried them into the house.

  His romantic gesture surprised her as much as it charmed her. Mary melted into his embrace and let herself enjoy the unique pleasure of being cradled in Lee's arms. She sighed and released a measure of her pent-up anxiety. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all.

  * * *

  Chapter Ten

  The inside of the house was cleaner and in better shape than Mary expected, but it was cold and as much a mix of styles and furnishings as the exterior. The interior designer had shared the architect's appalling lack of taste and had apparent delusions of grandeur. She studied her surroundings as Lee set her down on the marble floor of the entrance hall, before he returned to the front porch for Judah and the luggage. The intricate stained glass window above the door depicted a jousting tourney of a much earlier time where a knight on a black horse tilted against a knight riding a white charger. The stained glass window panels on either side of the massive front door continued the theme—a king, possibly Arthur, stood on the right side of the door and a queen, possibly Guinevere, occupied the left. Curious to see whether the rest of the decor continued the castle theme, Mary ventured farther down the hall and peeked into the front parlor.