Silver Lining (14 page)

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Authors: Maggie Osborne

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BOOK: Silver Lining
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"Pregnancy is hardly the type of news a decent young woman mentions in a letter. And don't even hint that my daughter is in any way to blame for what you did to her! You ruined her, betrayed her, and jilted her. You've destroyed her good name and brought shame on this family!"

Max dropped into a chair and sank his head in his hands. "I'm totally responsible." There had been a moment after Ridley had fetched the shotgun that he'd believed Houser would pull the trigger, and he hadn't attempted to defend himself.

"You're damned right you're totally to blame." Howard threw a glance toward the shotgun leaning against the fireplace. Then he flexed his fingers and tossed back a whiskey. "She could have had any man in this county. But, no. She wanted you. Every beau she ever had would have given her the moon and the stars if she'd asked. But not you. I told her she was making a mistake. I told her, Think about the house he's building you. Do you really want to live outside of town? On a ranch? Does he care about your wishes? But at least I thought you were a decent man. I would have sworn Max McCord wouldn't force a respectable woman to abandon her innocence and morals." He made a spitting sound. "You'll pay for this."

Every day for the rest of his life. He would never forget how happy she had been to see him, followed by her devastation and agony when she understood that he could not marry her and she was truly ruined.

Ridley had taken Livvy's cape in the foyer, but she still wore her hat and gloves when she hurried into the sitting room, her skirts crackling around her boots. She threw Max a quick questioning glance, then turned sympathetic eyes to Howard Rouser.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Houser."

"You don't know all of it, Mrs. McCord. Your swine of a son ruined my innocent daughter." Rouser's face was on fire and his hands trembled.

" Philadelphia is pregnant," Max said, forcing the words across his tongue.

"Oh my Lord!" Livvy's knees collapsed and she dropped onto the settee as if her bones had melted.

Shock widened her eyes.

"He should be horsewhipped, then tarred and feathered and run out of town on a rail!"

"Oh Max."

"I'll leave for Wyoming in the morning." He clawed a hand through his hair. " Philadelphia can go back East. I'll join her there, and we'll marry as soon as the divorce is final."

"Max, stop and think. What if Louise turns up pregnant?" Livvy asked softly. "Will you divorce one pregnant wife to marry another?"

Howard Rouser's lips curled in revulsion. "You were bedding another woman while my daughter was trying on her wedding gown? You son of a bitch!"

At some point Howard Houser had switched from sherry to whiskey and had consumed enough that he swayed on his feet. "You're never going to touch my daughter again, you hear me? I'll see you in hell first.

I'd rather have a street sweeper for a son-in-law than you!"

Livvy narrowed ice-blue eyes. "Put away the whiskey, Mr. Rouser. We aren't going to settle anything if you're drunk."

"And just what in the hell is there to settle, Mrs. McCord? My daughter is ruined, our two families are disgraced, there'll be enough scandal and gossip from this to entertain Fort Houser for years. I'll send Philadelphia somewhere to have your son's bastard where at least she doesn't have to endure public shame and humiliation. And then what? If she brings home a baby, you know damned well what people will think and say! So she loses her home as well as her good name."

"That won't happen." Livvy's back straightened and her shoulders stiffened. She turned a hard stare on Max. "A McCord created this mess, and a McCord will make it right."

"I'll move the earth to make that happen," Max said, dragging his fingers across the pox marks on his jaw. "But I can't make it happen soon enough. The baby will be born before the divorce is final."

"I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about Wallace."

His head snapped up. "Wally?"

But she was already explaining to Howard Houser. "We put out the story that Philadelphia realized very late that it was Wally whom she loved and wanted to marry. She told Max in a letter and broke off the betrothal. When Max learned her true feelings for his brother, he placed himself in the draw to marry Louise. After he returned to Fort Houser , now a married man, Philadelphia and Wally felt free to elope to Denver ."

Both men stared at her.

"This baby will arrive too soon," Livvy continued, frowning. "That can't be helped and it will cause talk.

But if we handle our story correctly, we can at least plant the belief that it's Wally's child. That will help some."

Howard lit a cigar and waved out the match not taking his eyes off Livvy. " Philadelphia wouldn't have to go back East."

"She won't have a child out of wedlock. She'll be married and the child will have a name."

"The scandal gets cut by half. My daughter doesn't get jilted. If the story is handled right, it'll appear that she gave this bum the boot."

Max leaned against the fireplace and covered his eyes. Christ. He didn't want to drag Wally into his problems. Didn't want to imagine Philadelphia married to his brother or to anyone but himself. "There must be another solution."

"You shut up," Howard snarled. "You have no say in this." He turned back to Livvy. "Can you guarantee that Wally will agree to marry her and raise his brother's bastard?"

Livvy lifted a shaking hand to her forehead, but pride kept her spine straight. "Yes," she said firmly. "The McCords know their duty. If the shoe were on the other foot, I'd expect Max to step forward and do right if Wally couldn't."

And he would have, because that's how the McCords were. Reaching into his pocket, Max curled his fingers hard around the marble. The tiny glass ball cast ever widening circles, swamping others as well as himself and Philadelphia .

"Now the next question is, will Philadelphia accept Wally?" Livvy asked.

"You can depend on it," Houser stated harshly. "What choice does she have?" The next words sprayed Max like bullets. "Now, get out of my house. I never want to see you again," he snarled. He turned to Livvy as she stood and smoothed shaking hands over her skirt. "I'll expect you and Wallace to be at the bank tomorrow morning at seven o'clock sharp. We'll work out the where and when of what has to be done."

In silence Max helped his mother down the steps and walked her to the wagon she'd driven into town. A beating would have been easier to endure than what he had just been through. For the first time in his life he felt as if his manhood had been stripped from him. And he'd been helpless to offer any defense.

"There'll be frost tonight," Livvy remarked, pulling her cape close around her before she climbed up on the wooden seat.

Max lit the lanterns hanging on the wagon. "I feel crazy inside. I want to go to the Red Shoe and get as drunk as I've ever been. Smash things. Get in a fight. But it won't change one damned thing."

"I know." She took the reins into her hands, then gazed down at him. "You did wrong, Max. It takes two to pull the taffy, but mostly you're to blame. Not for marrying Louise, that you had to do. But for taking advantage of a young woman's innocence and leaving her vulnerable to shame and ruin. Now Wally will be in the same unjust position you were. Forced to marry a woman he didn't choose."

He swore and hit the wagon slats with the heel of his palm. "How do I make this right with her? And with Wally?" How could he bear watching them together?

"I don't know. I suspect you can't. But I'm glad your father isn't alive to see this," his mother said softly, then she lifted the reins, clucked her tongue, and drove into the darkness.

Feeling as miserable as it was possible for a man to feel, Max swung up on his horse and followed behind her.

 

*

Red-eyed and exhausted from crying, Philadelphia pressed her face into the pillow and struggled to accept the unthinkable. What was she going to do? The question revolved in her mind like a wheel circling round and around.

 

Obviously she couldn't remain in Fort Houser . The disgrace and humiliation would kill her. Like other ruined young women, she would announce that she was going East to enjoy a long visit with an aunt, a cousin, or some other distant relative. Girls in trouble always went East. Most often the girl returned six or seven months later with an infant supposedly borne by the aunt, cousin, or relative who had died at the birthing. This was the usual story. Then, the girl or her mother raised the child and doggedly maintained the fiction of its origins.

But everyone knew. And whispered and gossiped and felt infinitely superior. And the girl who went East was never again respectable no matter how virtuous or above reproach she might become. Her reputation and her future were irrevocably destroyed. Decent women did not call; decent men did not come courting.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" Philadelphia pounded her pillow with her fists. She was not equipped to cope with a situation that could not be fixed or manipulated in the way she wanted. Frustration and panic collided in her mind.

She did notwant to be pregnant. She did notwant to be sent back East. Max was supposed to fix this problem by marrying her. Furious and frightened she ground her forehead into the pillow. What was she going to do? What was she going to do?

Damn Max McCord. Damn him to hell.

Rolling on her back, she stared at the dark ceiling and touched her fingertips to her stomach, tracing the slight bulge beneath her nightgown. It was still there. A dozen times a day she stroked her stomach expecting to discover the little bulge had vanished. And each time her fingers encountered the unwanted curve, a frisson of shock and disbelief stunned her for a moment.

She couldn't believe this had happened. To her! Young women like Philadelphia Houser did not get pregnant out of wedlock. The scandal would be enormous. Simply enormous. Those who envied or disliked her would receive great satisfaction and pleasure in gossiping about her fall from grace and respectability. They would say things like: "Her grandfather must be twisting in his grave." Or, "How low the mighty have fallen." "That Philadelphia Houser finally got her comeuppance." She couldn't bear it.

The clock in the downstairs foyer had chimed the midnight hour before her father rapped at her bedroom door, then stepped inside. "I assumed you'd be awake."

She sat up in bed and cried, "You have to fix this! Daddy, you have to make Max marry me!" Fresh tears burned her eyes, and she covered her face and sobbed. "He can't do this! He can't abandon me now, he just can't!"

When her father didn't rise from the chair next to her bed and take her into his arms to comfort her, she peeked at him through her fingers. Even in the dim light falling through the door from the hallway sconce, she recognized the anger clamping his mouth and steeling his eyes. How dare he be angry with her? His pride was nicked, but her life was ruined. Resentment trembled through her body. It wasn't fair that she had to manage him and turn his anger into sympathy before they could even discuss how he would fix this problem and save her.

"I'm sorry I disappointed you," she murmured, speaking through sobs, saying what she knew would appease him. "Please Daddy, please forgive me. I'm so sorry, so ashamed."

"You should be," he snapped.

"What?" Shocked, she dropped her hands and stared. He was supposed to sigh and shake his head, then comfort her and call her his good girl.

"Here." He tossed a handkerchief on the quilt. "Dry your eyes and blow your nose. Compose yourself because we have matters to discuss."

"You smell like whiskey!" He'd been drinking. That explained why he wasn't reacting as he should and usually did.

"McCord took advantage of you, and he'll pay for that. But I also know that Max McCord is a decent man. If you had said no and meant it, you wouldn't be in this trouble now."

Fire rushed into her face. "You're blaming me?" She couldn't believe it. "Me?"

"The woman sets the pace. You're as responsible as McCord."

Fury glittered in her eyes. It would be a long time before she forgave him for suggesting she bore some fault.

"I'm also to blame." Falling silent, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I spoiled you after your mother died. Maybe I should have remarried. Maybe if there'd been a woman in the house, someone with whom you could discuss woman things …"He dropped his hand to his lap and looked at her. "I can't fix this the way you want it fixed. I can't make the pregnancy disappear. I can't free Max to marry you in the next few days. Neither of those things will happen."

One more shock rocked her universe. He'd always been able to correct whatever problems disturbed her world. Deep inside she'd believed that somehow, someway, he'd fix this problem, too. Panic leapt into her eyes.

"What am I going to do? Everyone knows we don't have any relatives back East," she said, her voice spiraling toward hysteria. "But I can't stay here." She was being driven from her home. It was unbelievable. "And you know what everyone will think, don't you? They'll think Max refused to marry me because I was pregnant! They'll say… Oh heavens, I can't bear it. Daddy, you have to do something.

You have to help me!"

"Listen to me." Finally he took her hand and held it between both of his on the edge of the bed. "You'll marry Wally McCord the day after tomorrow. The two of you will elope to Denver ."

She blinked hard, thinking she couldn't possibly have heard correctly. But he continued talking, relating a fantastical story about how she had always loved Wally instead of Max, and fortunately, she had recognized the true object of her affections in time, before she married the wrong man.

"Wally?" she repeated dumbly. Her brain ceased to process information. Surely he wasn't suggesting that she marry Max's brother.

"There will still be talk; that can't be helped. Gossips will imagine two brothers vying for the same girl.

You and Wally meeting behind Max's back. Eloping. I don't know yet how to explain the woman Max married, but we'll come up with something."

"I can't marry Wally," she whispered, staring at her father. "I hardly know him."

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