Silver Lining

CHAPTER 21

I t seemed to Louise that a weight had lifted from Max's shoulders and left him so light of foot that a spring appeared in his step. After a week of moody silence, he became a different person. For the last two weeks, he had whistled in the mornings on his way to the barn. He seemed easier in his mind and didn't lose his temper with the new hands even when Louise thought he should have.

When she asked why he hadn't jumped Merdock's butt the morning Merdock slept late, Max had just shrugged and explained he was so grateful to have the boys back that he didn't care if Merdock was late getting to work. Then he'd laughed and predicted his attitude would change, but right now he thanked heaven that the bunkhouse was full. And he thanked God that Louise no longer had to labor like a hired hand.

Tears had sprung into her eyes, and she had rushed from the room because she understood what he was saying. He didn't need her anymore. And now that Philadelphia 's pregnancy had been resolved, old doors had opened. New options were possible.

It was time for Louise to leave.

Though it made her feel foolish to think about it now, for a while she had hoped they might forget about their agreement. Just set it aside. They got along well; they had fallen into a comfortable routine that seemed to suit them both. To her amusement and amazement, she had turned into a real wife and secretly liked caring for a house and a husband.

And the nights. How she loved the nights when they read together in bed, shoulders touching, sharing bits from his book and her songbook. That's where they discussed the important things, the events or emotions they didn't share with others. And that's where he reached for her and slid her new nightgown up to her hips and kissed her until she was dizzy with loving him and wanting him.

But reality had slapped her hard the day of Philadelphia 's labor. She had gazed into Max's eyes and saw a reflection of the woman he loved, and it wasn't her. She had listened to Philadelphia 's threat to take Max away, and she'd felt the bitter sting of truth.

Oh Lord, she was crying again. And Gilly would be here any minute. In fact, she thought she'd seen Gilly ride in, but Gilly wouldn't have gone directly to the barn. Livvy must have come to speak to Max.

Today she and Gilly were going into town to choose birthday gifts for Sunshine. They had decided Sunshine should have at least one or two store-bought gifts. Perhaps an embroidery hoop, maybe new Sunday shoes.

"Louise?"

"Come in." Grabbing a dish towel, she wiped her eyes and shouted toward the front door. "I'm in the kitchen."

Smelling of fresh, cold air and the light verbena scent she favored, Gilly bustled down the hallway and straight to the coffeepot hissing and bubbling on the back of the stove. "Mama's watching Sunshine so you and I are footloose and fancy-free today." She smiled. "Your wagon's out front, but I don't think the horses would mind if we have a cup of hot coffee before we leave."

"Max said he'd hitch the wagon. I didn't know he'd already done it."

"Louise McCord! Have you been crying?"

"No."

Gilly peered into her face. "You are crying!" A sudden smile replaced her frown. "And if my suspicions are correct, I think I know why. Stand up and let me take a good look at you."

Pulling Louise to her feet, Gilly gazed hard at her waist and then studied her wet, anxious face. A radiant smile lit her expression. "My heavens! Mama is going to be so happy, and so am I!" Throwing out her arms, she clasped Louise in a tight embrace. "When are you due? Does Max know yet?"

"Oh Lord, it shows then?" She sat at the table and pressed the dishcloth to her eyes. If Gilly knew, then she couldn't put off telling Max. And then … "Absolutely," Gilly said with a laugh. "Tears are a dead giveaway, especially for a strong woman like you."

"I don't know what's wrong with me. I sure don't feel strong. Everything makes me cry!" Fresh tears drowned her eyes when she thought about never seeing Gilly again. Or Sunshine. Or Livvy. Max, she couldn't bear to think about at all. Every time she imagined telling him that she would be leaving as they had agreed, her heart hurt so badly that she backed away and told herself: One more day.

"I didn't want to tell Max—"

"While you were feeding those cattle," Gilly guessed. She sighed. "That's how it is in a good marriage.

You want to help your man. And he wants to protect his woman. If Max knew you were pregnant, he would have let those beeves starve before he'd let you work that hard."

A good marriage. Oh Lord, here came the tears again. "I can't talk about Max. It makes me cry." She blew her nose in her hanky and blotted her eyes with the dish towel. "I'll get my hat and coat, then we'll go down to the barn and tell him we're leaving. Gilly, promise we won't talk about Philadelphia today."

Gilly's eyebrows lifted. "You aren't worrying about her, are you? Oh Louise. If Max had married Philadelphia , it would have been a disaster. And I'd wager the earth that Max has known that for a long time."

Louise wished she could believe Gilly's airy dismissal, but she didn't. Where there was smoke, there was fire. And there was plenty of smoke between Max and Philadelphia . Moreover, she had heard Mr.

Houser tell Wally that he would understand if Wally divorced Philadelphia . But she had thought about it and had concluded that Philadelphia would be the one to seek a divorce. Philadelphia would travel to Wyoming as soon as she could. And Max would go with her.

Because now the only thing standing between Max and Philadelphia was Louise. If she weren't in the way, they could be together as they had always wanted to be.

"If you're feeling even a tiny bit jealous of Philadelphia , well, you're just being silly," Gilly insisted as they left the house and walked toward the barn.

Louise wanted so much to believe what Gilly said. Her heart leapt on any small scrap of hope, and she tried hard not to see what was right under her nose.

But when they had almost reached the barn door, when they were close enough to see inside, they both stopped abruptly. Just beyond the door, Max held Philadelphia tightly against his body. He lowered his head and kissed her.

A hot knife sliced through Louise's body. The pain of seeing them holding each other was worse than anything she had ever experienced, worse than anything she could have imagined. Her fingers dug into Gilly's arm, and she made a strangled sound.

Then she turned and blindly ran back to the house.

*

The men in the barn looked toward the door, then faded away like snowdrifts beneath a warm wind.

Puzzled, Max straightened in the stall he was mucking out and glanced around to see what had caused the boys to leave so hastily.

Philadelphia stood in a bar of sunshine just inside the door. She'd tossed back a short cape to reveal a dark riding jacket that curved over her breasts and nipped her waist. She wore a small feather-trimmed hat atop a mass of golden curls.

"Max?" She peered into the barn, but she didn't step out of the rectangle of light.

Slowly, he put down his shovel, dropped his gloves in the straw, and walked toward her. With the sunlight in her curls, shimmering and glowing around her, she looked like an ethereal creature sketched by imagination, too perfect to be real.

Halting a few feet from her, he thrust a hand into his pocket and grasped the green marble. So much had happened since the first time he had gripped this marble. He wasn't the same man he'd been that day on the mountain-side. Nor did the marble represent the same things to him that it had then.

"I've waited for you to come to the main house," she said, pushing her lips into a pout. "Then I realizedshe must be keeping you here. So I came to you."

If not for the green marble, he would have married this woman.

"I'm leaving for Fort Laramie next week. I need to know when you'll join me."

She believed nothing had changed between them. There wasn't a doubt in her expression or her gaze.

"I'm not going anywhere." He spoke softly, gently. Once she had been important to him. Once he had held her and believed he loved her.

"Don't tease, I'm upset enough. My father will only speak to me through his attorney. The day after tomorrow Wally is leaving for Santa Fe . Your mother scarcely talks to me, and she's been rude twice.

Gilly avoids me. None of my friends or acquaintances will call. I need you."

"You don't need me, Philadelphia . Whatever was between us has been over for a long time." They had never needed each other, had never understood each other. "If we had married, it would have been a mistake."

"I don't know how you can say that, because you're wrong. I love you, Max. And you love me."

"You're mistaken on both counts."

Her gaze flicked to something behind him, then she rushed forward and pressed against his body, lifting her hands to his face. "Kiss me and then tell me you don't love me. If you can."

Confidence sparkled in her eyes before her lids closed and her arms wrapped around his neck. She pulled his head down and lifted on tiptoe to kiss him.

And as he'd expected, he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Placing his hands on her waist, he moved her away from his chest and hips. "Go home," he said quietly.

"You have a good husband who wants to love you. I genuinely believe you could be happy with Wally if you'll give him and your marriage a chance."

"I don't want Wally. Why do you think I'm willing to endure the scandal of a divorce? It's because I wantyou!" She stamped her foot, and her eyes flashed.

He almost smiled because he knew her well enough to know that once she understood he wouldn't follow her to Fort Laramie , she would stay with Wally rather than open herself to more scandal. With a bit of luck, she and Wally could create a satisfactory marriage, maybe even a happy one.

"Listen to me," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking into her eyes. There was no way to soften the blunt truth, but he tried by speaking in a gentle tone. "I don't love you, Philadelphia , and I don't want to marry you. I love Louise." He touched her cheek with his fingertips. "Louise is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and every day I thank God for giving me such a blessing. I hope one day you'll say the same thing about Wally."

She jerked backward as if he had struck her. "You're telling me that you love that creature?"

"With all my heart," he said simply. He'd known it for a long while, but this was the first time he'd tested the words on his tongue. A grin curved his lips. Now that he'd stated his love aloud, he wanted to shout it from the barn roof.

"I don't believe this! You're advising me to remain married to your brother?"

"I have no right to advise you, and whatever you decide is none of my business. But … do you really want to exchange a man who loves you for the shame and disgrace of a divorce?"

"I don't want to stay with Wally. He's changed. He isn't as easy to manage as I thought he would be!"

Max smiled at her expression. "That's exactly the kind of man you need." Any small doubt faded. She would accompany Wally to Santa Fe . And Wally would provide the challenge she couldn't admit she wanted and needed. Theirs would be a volatile union, a constant struggle for control. But he suspected Philadelphia and his brother would find such a marriage stimulating and exciting.

Taking her arm, eager to send her on her way, he turned her toward the doorway, intending to walk her to her horse. "Gilly!" At once, he knew his sister had seen and overheard most of what had happened in the last few minutes. And she wouldn't have come to the barn alone. He swung a quick frown toward the house.

"For a bad minute, Max, I thought you'd turned stupid." Anger burned in the scorn Gilly leveled on Philadelphia . "And you dared to judge Louise. You don't know the meaning of decency!"

"Where is she?" His stomach cramped, and his hands curled into fists. He knew what Louise would think if she'd seen Philadelphia in his arms. Damn it.

"By now I imagine she's left you and is on her way to Denver ."

Breaking into a run, he raced toward the house. Surely Louise understood that Philadelphia 's kiss didn't mean anything.

His chest tightened around a kernel of panic. Curse his hide, he hadn't told her that he loved her. He'd been waiting for her to say it first, too proud to lay his heart on the line until she did.

But she had to know, didn't she? She was angry and hurt by seeing Philadelphia kissing him. But she wouldn't up and leave him. She'd at least give him a chance to explain.

He strode through the mudroom door and went straight to the parlor. His heart sank.

Her silver spoon was gone. She wasn't coming back.

*

He who is born a fool is never cured. She'd forgotten the truth in that proverb. Cursing, she wiped tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

She gave the horses their heads, too wild inside to care how recklessly she was driving over snow-packed, icy roads. She'd go to Denver . She had enough money in her bag to get a room for tonight. Tomorrow, when there were no more tears to cry, she would decide what to do next. How did people live when they no longer had a heart?

The horses galloped past the outskirts of Fort Houser and she dashed a hand across her eyes, blinking hard.

How could she have been such a blind fool? Sheknew Max wanted Philadelphia . He always had.

Hadn't she reminded herself of this fact only an hour ago?

But she hadn't wanted to believe the raw emotion she'd seen in Max's eyes the day of Philadelphia 's labor. She had wanted Gilly to convince her that Max never thought about Philadelphia , didn't pine for her, didn't wish it was Philadelphia he'd married. No, that wasn't true. She had wantedMax to convince her of these reassuring lies. But deep in her heart she'd known how he really felt. She was nothing but an obstacle standing between him and Philadelphia ; that's what she had always been to him.

Well, not anymore. She would vanish into the streets of Denver . Or maybe she would withdraw her money from the bank and take a train west until she ran into an ocean. She'd buy a little house and spend her life raising their child and trying to forget a tall, lanky cowboy with pox marks on his chin and a blue gaze that sent shivers down her spine. Max would always be the best part of her. She would see him in every blue-eyed man. Would find him in the face of her child.

"You idiot," she whispered, whipping the reins across the horses' backs. It was her fault that she was dying inside. She had forgotten who she was.

She had let herself be lulled and seduced by the luxury of a real mattress, warm food three times a day, and the joy of caring for a home. She had even given names to the stupid chickens. How dumb could she be? Very dumb. Dumb enough to appropriate Max's family and love them and try to make them her own. When she thought about never again seeing Livvy or Gilly or Sunshine, her ribs felt as if they were cracking.

But the worst, the very worst, most stupid and foolish thing she had ever done in her whole life was to fall deeply, crazily in love with Max McCord.

She had never had a chance. Her love was hopeless from the beginning. She could never be a lady like Philadelphia . She couldn't even be Missus Louise McCord; that wasn't who she was.

She was just plain ole Low Down. Low-down, good-for-nothing, never amount to a hill of beans, worthless, just taking up space in the world. That Low Down.

Hot tears stung her eyes, and her chest hurt. She'd forgotten who she was, had forgotten that names and nature do often agree. It was certainly true in her case. But oh, how she had wanted to be someone else.

How she had longed to be Missus Max McCord. Hearing the words had made her feel proud inside.

"Louise!"

Blinking hard at the dampness scalding her eyes, she thought for an instant that she had imagined Max's shout. Then he yelled again, and she turned to see him riding hell-bent for leather alongside the wagon.

"Go away!" She didn't know what he was doing here, but she resented his chasing after her. It would have been better if they didn't actually have to say good-bye.

"You're driving like a damned maniac! Louise, stop the horses!"

She shouted back. "The only thing I have to say to you is good-bye. I've said it now, so get on home."

"I didn't kiss Philadelphia , she kissed me." Marva Lee ran full out, her mane fluttering and her tail rippling behind her. Max had one hand on his hat and one hand gripping the reins. His duster flapped behind him. "She blindsided me. Just jumped on me. I didn't want her kissing me, didn't ask her to do it.

Most important, I didn't like it."

How dumb did he think she was? "I don't care who the hell kissed who, the fact is the two of you were kissing," she shouted, fighting tears and the reins. "And it sure looked to me like you were enjoying it.

Well, you can have Philadelphia , I don't care. It's time I left anyway."

He eyed the team as if he might be thinking about doing something foolish like jumping down between them and trying to stop them. Instead he brought Marva Lee up close beside the wagon seat.

"You can't leave. In fact, you have to pull over and stop," he demanded, shouting at her. "I'm making a citizen's arrest!"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I'm arresting you. You're stealing my wagon and my horses."

At first she thought she had misunderstood, and that was possible since the wheels and harness were rattling and squealing, making it hard to hear. Then she realized he had a valid point. She'd taken his wagon and horses without his permission. "I'll send you payment from Denver ."

He was riding forward over Marva Lee's neck, his head turned to glare at her. "If I wouldn't take your money to save my ranch, what makes you think I'd take your money now? I saw what taking a woman's money did to my father. I'm never going to accept a dime of your funds for anything!"

Louise's mouth dropped, and she stared at him. That's why he'd refused her offer, not because he didn't want to be tied to her, but because he didn't want to end like his father, resenting his wife for bailing him out. The instant he said the words, it sounded so obvious.

What other mistakes had she made?

"Louise, slow down before you break your neck. We need to talk!"

No sooner had he shouted the warning than she felt the back wheels lock and spin into a sickening icy slide. She was skilled enough to save the team from wrecking, to hold the wagon steady until it straightened again, but she wasn't balanced well enough to save herself. The wagon seesawed and pitched her into the road, where she banged down on the ice and rolled across the snow pack into a drift.

Quicker than she could sort out what had happened, Max was off Marva Lee and pulling her out of the snowbank. He propped her against the drift and ran his strong work hands over her neck, down her arms, and across her rib cage. When he threw up her skirt and moved his hands from her ankles to her knees, she slapped down her skirts and wiggled away from him.

"Here. Sit on my duster," he insisted. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm not hurt." Probably badly bruised, but not actually injured. Her skirt was torn, and her hat had gone missing.

"It's a miracle you aren't dead. I never saw anybody drive a wagon that recklessly!"

She blinked at the road. "Where are the horses?"

"Probably halfway to Denver . We'll send someone to look for them later. Right now you and I have some things to talk about." He sat on the snow facing her and tried to take her hand, but she snatched it away.

She was going to have to swallow her pride and ask him to take her to a hotel in Fort Houser . Damn.

"I know what you're going to say," she said, lifting a hand and cutting him off. "You're a good man, and you and I have become friends so you want to make this as easy as possible for me. And I appreciate that, but I know what I saw and I know how you feel." She looked down at her hands twisting in her lap.

"No you don't."

"And if you're mad about me just running off, well, I'm sorry about that. It was cowardly. And I didn't think about stealing your horses and wagon." She looked at him. "But it's time I left, Max. I've overstayed my welcome."

"Louise, listen to me. I don't care about Philadelphia . She doesn't mean a thing to me. Whatever I felt for her died a long time ago."

"We haven't lied to each other, let's not start now. I saw your face when Philadelphia was in labor, and your expression said it all." She hated to remember that day. "You were worried to death about her. And you were devastated when you learned she'd been with another man."

"Damned right I was worried. Weren't you? Wasn't everyone? I didn't want her to die; I didn't want a death on my conscience. As for being devastated that she'd been with another man, hell yes, the news shocked me. I never expected such a thing. And it made me furious. I'd been flogging myself that I'd betrayed Philadelphia by taking my wife—you—to bed. And all the while she had betrayed me weeks before." He sat on the snow facing her with his legs tucked up under him Indian fashion. "Call it pride, call it stupidity, but of course I was furious that she was pregnant by another man. But Louise … that has nothing to do with you."

He looked at her sitting on the side of the road, as unaware of the snow and cold as he was, her heart swimming in her eyes. It was so like her to think of other people's happiness and run off to clear the way for him and Philadelphia . Despite her bluster and bravado, despite the chip she sometimes wore on her shoulder, there wasn't a selfish bone in this woman's body.

"I love you, Louise Downe McCord. You drive me absolutely crazy sometimes, and this is one of those times, but I love you."

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she gripped her hands tightly in her lap.

"If you hadn't run off when you did, if you'd stayed a few more minutes, you would have heard me tell Philadelphia to go home. You would have heard me tell her that I love you with all my heart and that you're the best thing that ever happened to me and I thank God for you every day of my life."

"You told Philadelphia all that?" She stared. "Well, damn it, Max, I ought to smack you hard. Why'd you tell her all that instead of telling me?"

"I planned to tell you. I was getting around to it." He cleared his throat and wished his hair was combed and wished they weren't sitting on the snowy ground by the side of the road. This wasn't the ideal circumstance in which to commence a long-overdue courtship. "Mrs. McCord, I love you," he said, making a beginning. "I've tried to identify the moment when I first knew you had captured my heart."

She stared at him with such an odd expression that a stab of fear pierced his chest. What if she didn't love him back? What if she'd run away, not because of what she'd seen in the barn, but because she was tired of him and didn't want to be married anymore? Then he would just have to woo her and win her.

"I think I fell in love with you that amazing night on the kitchen floor. Or maybe it was the evening you stepped up and set my arm." Testing things, he reached for her hand, and, to his joy, she glared, but she let him take it. "Or maybe the night I knew I loved you was when I kissed you under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve. It's hard to say because I look at you now and it seems to me there's never been a time when I didn't love you."

He clasped her hands hard. "Don't ride out on me, Louise, I need you. I couldn't stand losing you. I'm laying my heart on the line. I'm saying I love you and no man ever meant those words more. I think we can make a good life together; we've already started. Let's forget about an agreement we made before we knew each other. I want you with me always." A sigh lifted his chest, and he gave her a look of exasperation. "Are you ever going to interrupt this speech and tell me that you love me? Or are you going to torture me by keeping me in suspense?"

"I'm bad tempered and stubborn, Max. I'm never going to be a lady. I doubt I'll ever in my life invite someone to tea or be invited to such an event. I don't have any fashion sense, and I'll never be beautiful."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, frowning. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

How can you not know that?" When she stood naked before him like a young Venus, he was struck dumb with awe. And when she smiled at him across the bedcovers, the shine in her lovely eyes took his breath away. He told her what he was thinking. "And you have a wonderful mouth just made for kissing and laughing."

She studied him with suspicion, then amazement. "Good Lord. You really mean it! You honestly think …

Oh Max. You're the only person in the whole world who thinks I'm beautiful!" Moisture jumped into her damp eyes. "And I love you for it. I love you so much, more than you could possibly know!"

Lunging forward, she threw her arms around his neck and knocked him flat on his back. Lying on top of him, she smiled down into his face. "I guess I'm not going to leave you after all."

"Good." If anyone rode up on them and saw them carrying on like this, there would be a scandal to end all scandals. He didn't care. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her until she was breathless.

"All my life I dreamed of having someone think I was beautiful," she whispered.

Had he ever thought she wasn't? If so, he didn't remember it. Tenderly, he kissed her again and again.

"Nothing in my life would mean anything if you weren't here to share it. There'd be no reason to get up in the morning without you to light the sun with your smile."

"Oh Max! Oh my. You have such beautiful words inside you." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her nose against his neck so she could smell him. "Will you write me a letter someday and say all those pretty things?"

"I'll write you a hundred letters."

They kissed and whispered love talk and made a shocking spectacle of themselves if there had been anyone to see. When Max's breath was ragged and he thought he'd go crazy with wanting her, he drew her to her feet and into his arms.

"I've been thinking. I want you to give me your silver spoon," he said gruffly. "I'm going to frame it in a shadow box along with the green marble." He kissed her deeply and deliberately, knowing there was still more to talk about, knowing they would never run out of things to say to each other. Most important, he knew this splendid woman was his. "Someday our grandchildren will ask why we framed an old silver spoon and a scratched marble, and why we display them in a place of honor on our mantel." He caught her face between his hands. "And I will tell them the spoon and the marble are the most valuable and precious items that you and I ever owned."

She gazed at him with luminescent eyes, radiant as if she were lit from within. "I have something to tell you."

"Will it keep until we get home? Right now, all I can think about is taking you to bed and showing you how much I love you."

"My news will keep," she whispered, her gaze loving him.

He swung into the saddle, then pulled her up behind him. Louise wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close, her eyes turned toward the distant mountain peaks.

A light breeze swept down from the snowcaps, across the foothills and onto the plains, bringing the scent of spring and a promise of new beginnings. Louise smiled through a shine of joyful tears. She'd been wrong about so many things. Most of all, she had been wrong about herself.

She wasn't Low Down anymore. She would never be Low Down again. Eyes focused on the mountains, she whispered good-bye to the sad, scruffy, rootless, and lonely woman she had left in Piney Creek.

Then she snuggled close to her husband's back, thought of the precious child she carried, and turned her face toward family and home.

*