Silver Lining (12 page)

"I'm Livvy McCord, Max's mother. And you must be…?"

Livvy McCord loomed large. There wasn't a doubt in Low Down's mind as to who ran the McCord household and probably always had. This was a formidable woman. Not a single wrinkle creased the woman's stiffly starched white blouse or her plain black skirt. And though a light breeze stirred the roses climbing the veranda trellis, not a strand of Livvy McCord's gray and auburn hair dared stray from the tidy bun crowning her head.

"I'm called Low Down." Though she cleared her throat, her voice emerged a mere degree above a whisper.

"Not here you're not," Livvy McCord said sharply, her eyebrows coming together. "You must have a name. What is it?"

"Louise Downe."

Not many women stood as tall as Low Down, and Max's mother reached only to her eyebrows.

Nevertheless, she would have sworn that Mrs. McCord towered over her.

Still not looking at Max, his mother took both of Low Down's hands in hers. "First, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving my son's life. In his letter, Max said you were the only person willing to nurse the men who fell ill with pox. They would have died without your care. Is that true?"

Low Down cleared her throat again. "I guess it is." She cast a glance toward Max, who focused on the people still waiting on the veranda. Knots ran along his jawline.

"We have an unfortunate situation here," Livvy McCord said, speaking slowly, "and a lot of people will suffer for it. But you earned the right to ask for whatever you wanted, however ill-advised your choice might be. And you," she said, turning finally to Max, "did the right thing, regardless of the consequences.

No honorable man could refuse to draw a marble from the hat, not after you agreed to repay this woman for your life by granting whatever she wanted. You did what you had to do."

Mother and son gazed at each other, then Max enveloped his mother in a hug. Their embrace broke the paralysis of the people on the veranda and the rest of the family spilled into the yard.

Low Down met Gilly and Dave Weaver, who regarded her with frank curiosity and expressions that reserved judgment. Their daughter, Sunshine, smiled shyly and peeked up through long, dark lashes. And she met Wally, who gave her a solemn nod before he pounded Max on the back in a roughly affectionate greeting.

"You sure did it this time," he said, giving his brother a rueful grin.

Max returned a weak smile, then stepped forward to embrace Gilly and Sunshine and shake Dave Weaver's hand.

When the introductions and greetings ended, Livvy McCord sent the others inside but kept Max and Low Down beside the wagon. "We need to talk." Her eyes, as blue as Max's, steadied on Low Down. "I apologize for the necessary bluntness of this conversation. But time is of the essence. If anything is to be done about this situation, a solution must be found before Max speaks to Mr. Houser tonight."

"Bluntness ain't going to offend me. Hell, speak as freely as you want." After all the polite greetings, some plain speaking would be welcome.

Livvy McCord studied her for a long moment, and Low Down realized she'd said "ain't" and "hell." A suspicion that she wasn't making a wonderful first impression tugged her spirits down.

"As Max described the circumstances of your marriage, I sense the ceremony occurred quickly and impulsively. Correct?"

"Yes, ma'am." Low Down decided she could be blunt right back. "I wanted a baby, not a husband.

Things plumb got out of hand, and suddenly we were standing there being married. That was the preacher's idea, not mine. I guess you wouldn't agree about having a baby out of wedlock, but that's all I wanted."

"I believe it's immoral and wrong to deliver a child without benefit of marriage." But a hint of relief softened Livvy McCord's expression. "However, now that I understand your position, I believe we can resolve the current difficulties."

"Ma, there's no way to work this out." Hooking his thumbs in his back pockets, Max frowned toward the barn and a corner of the bunkhouse showing near a stand of cottonwoods.

Livvy glanced at Max then back to Low Down. "I'm sure you're aware that Max was to be married in ten days." When Low Down nodded, she drew a breath and continued. "Perhaps you'll agree that it isn't fair that Miss Houser will be humiliated and thrown into a scandal through no fault of her own."

"I told Max time and again that we should just pretend the marriage never happened," Low Down said solemnly. She had an idea where Livvy McCord was heading with this conversation.

"Excellent!" Color flooded Livvy's face, and her eyes brightened. "Then you wouldn't object to dissolving the marriage between you and my son?"

"Not at all." Low Down had no idea why she'd hesitated a beat. She also thought Max might jump in and tell his mother that they had planned to divorce after she got pregnant anyway. But Max didn't, so she didn't mention it either.

"Wonderful." Livvy addressed the next remark to Max. "It would create a far lesser scandal to postpone the wedding to Miss Houser than to jilt her practically at the altar. You can go to Wyoming and petition for a divorce at once. With a little luck, we can keep the purpose of your Wyoming trip secret, and no one need ever know about your marriage to Louise or the real reason for postponing the marriage to Miss Houser."

"Makes no never mind to me," Low Down offered. A twinge of regret pricked her skin, but it had never been her intention to cause Max any trouble. Besides, she might be pregnant already.

As far as she was concerned, the problem was now solved exactly as she had suggested in the first place. But Livvy McCord wasn't finished.

"There are many homeless children," she said, "and I will help you facilitate adoption. Max will see to it that you don't lack for funds to raise a child."

"That isn't necessary," Low Down protested. Now probably wasn't the moment to explain that she wanted her own baby, not someone else's.

"It is necessary," Livvy insisted. "You were promised a child, and you'll have a child." She looked from Low Down to Max and drew a breath. "There are many details to be settled, but I believe we've found a solution that will at least cushion the scandal if Miss Houser and her father agree, and I can't think why they wouldn't. Unless …"She hesitated, then firmly squared her shoulders.

"I detest asking such an unforgivably intimate question, but I must. There's one thing that might… is there any chance, any possibility at all, that Louise might be with child? Did the two of you… what I mean is, did you… ?"

To her astonishment, Low Down felt her cheeks burn red and noticed that Max's face had also flushed scarlet. Even Livvy McCord's cheeks showed high color. "Yes," Max answered in a strangled voice.

"That's why I'm willing to dissolve the marriage and leave," Low Down added, hoping to reassure. "Max did his duty. So I'm willing to call things even, and I think the boys in Piney Creek would be satisfied that Max kept his end of the bargain."

Far from being reassured, Livvy McCord looked stricken and her shoulders sagged. "I was afraid of this," she said in a low voice. "If there's any possibility that you might be with child, then we can't dissolve this marriage." Raising a shaking hand, she covered her eyes. "No son of mine is going to desert a woman who may be carrying his child. Divorce is no longer a consideration." She dropped her hand and blinked up at Max. "That's it, then. There's no way to sidestep what's coming." Turning, she lifted her skirts. "We might as well go inside and have some of Gilly's chocolate cake."

"Mrs. McCord, wait." Low Down took a step forward. "I might be pregnant or I might not. Either way, I'm willing to ride out of here right now, and Max can get a divorce or pretend the marriage never happened. I never wanted to cause anybody any trouble. I just wanted a baby."

Livvy turned on the steps. "The marriage between you and my son has been consummated; it's valid.

You are now part of this family, Mrs. McCord. There will be no more talk of divorce or riding away."

Her gaze narrowed. "You made this bed, now you lie in it."

His mother saw the situation as Max had predicted. Low Down had to accept the marriage and stop thinking about riding away. She gripped her secondhand purse with both hands and turned to Max. "I'm sorry," she said in a low voice.

"Like you said, you didn't put the marble in my hand." Removing his hat, Max pulled a hand through a tumble of dark curls, then he took her arm and led her inside to the parlor.

The room was elegant enough to widen Low Down's eyes and formal enough to suggest that it was used infrequently, perhaps only for special occasions.

At present, the tension in the faces of those who watched Max lead her inside told her that Livvy McCord had announced there was no way to get rid of her, no way to rescue Miss Houser, no way to avert the scandal rushing down on them.

Livvy stood before the unlit fireplace and waited until Low Down had perched uneasily on the edge of a mauve-dyed horsehair sofa. "Welcome to the McCord family," Livvy intoned solemnly. She spoke politely, but coolly. She sounded resigned.

The others also murmured words of welcome. But Low Down was conscious that Gilly politely examined her tight bodice, her worn secondhand shoes. When Gilly's gaze lifted to Low Down's hat, she noticed her new sister-in-law's lips turn down in something that might have been a delicate shudder.

Wally and Dave nodded to her, and she suspected they were comparing her, point by point, to Philadelphia Houser. She could guess how she fared in that contest. Sunshine seemed to be the only person present who had not formed an opinion.

"When is your meeting with the Housers?" Livvy asked Max.

"At five this afternoon."

Low Down glanced at the mantle clock.

"You'll need to leave in about an hour." Livvy gazed at her family. "Mrs. McCord saved Max's life. She's one of us now, and we'll stand by her. This situation is unfortunate for everyone, but no one is at fault."

Her gaze brushed Low Down.

Low Down was fascinated by the way Livvy McCord decided things as if she hadn't recently emerged from widow's weeds, as if she had always been the head of the household. Or maybe that was what being a mother was all about. Trying to solve the problems of her children, trying to protect them. This was the first time that she'd seen a caring mother in action.

"We'll have some of Gilly's cake, then you boys help Max unload the wagon," Livvy suggested, stepping toward the plates and napkins laid out on the sideboard.

"Did you buy a mule," Wally asked after he had a plate of cake balanced on his knees, "or does she belong to Mrs. McCord?"

For an instant Low Down thought Wally referred to his mother. A mild shock shook her hand when she realized he meant her.

The conversation turned to Max's summer in the Rockies , then Max inquired about the ranch. If not for the tight faces and an edgy undercurrent of tension, Low Down might have believed everyone had forgotten about Max's upcoming appointment.

As if her thoughts had cast a signal, the men abruptly rose thanked Gilly for the cake, then filed out behind Max to unload the wagon and see to Marva Lee and Rebecca. Low Down wished she could go with them.

"We might as well have our coffee in the kitchen," Livvy said, picking up cake plates.

Low Down jumped to her feet, but Livvy and Gilly had already collected the plates and she had only her own to carry to a large, sunny, well-equipped kitchen. Not wanting to be in the way, she sat at a long table and tried not to think about how foolish she felt wearing a hat when Livvy and Gilly were not. Tried not to think about her ill-fitting gown, or the corset that was squeezing the breath out of her.

"What's your mule's name?" Sunshine asked solemnly.

"Rebecca." At least someone wanted to talk to her. "How old are you?"

"I'm five. I can read and write my name."

After scraping and stacking the plates, Gilly took the chair across from her. "I'm sorry. I hope you won't take this the wrong way, but I keep thinking about Philadelphia , Miss Houser, that is, and how terrible this will be for her. I can't imagine how I would have felt if I'd been jilted at the last moment."

Livvy set cups of coffee in front of them, gave Sunshine a glass of milk, then sat down. "I feel sorry for Philadelphia , but I'm more concerned about what Howard Houser will do."

"Oh, Mama. Not business again."

"Rouser's bank holds the mortgage on Max's place."

Low Down frowned. "You don't think—"

"I hope I'm just borrowing trouble." Livvy studied Low Down's hat and her dress. "My daughter and I prepared Max's house. We made up the beds and stocked linens and food. But I think the two of you might as well stay here overnight. I doubt you feel up to getting organizing right now. You must be tired."

"I'm sorry about the trouble, ma'am," Low Down said, stirring a spoon around and around her coffee cup. And I'm sorry I ain't the kind you wanted your son to marry." She was too nervous being alone with them to remember about ain't. "I'm sorry about Miss Rouser. I'm sorry about damned near everything you can think of. I don't know what else to say."

"You strike me as a straight-talking woman," Livvy said into the ensuing silence. "So I'll admit this isn't the kind of marriage I wanted for Max. What mother would? A man should choose the woman who will be his life's partner and the mother of his children, not have the choice thrust on him."

"You must feel the same way yourself," Gilly added softly. "It must seem very odd to have a husband chosen by lot rather than by inclination. What a terrible situation for everyone."

Genuine sympathy glistened in Gilly's pale greenish-blue eyes, and Low Down suppressed a sigh. She had never known how to respond to tenderhearted women.

Sunshine clasped her small hands around the milk glass and looked up at Low Down. "Did you do something bad?"

"Why would you ask that?" Livvy inquired, frowning.

"Because Aunt Low Down keeps saying she's sorry."

"No, your aunt did not do something bad. And her name is not Low Down. We will call her Louise and think of her as Louise. That includes you," she said to Low Down.