Malloy glanced at the attorney and lawman. He quirked a brow, asking the only question that mattered.
“Yep,” Talmadge said.
Van Pletzen nodded.
“You,” Lockhart yelled, “You are not the sweet girl you once were.”
“No, I’m not.” She tipped her fancy hat, apparently to shield her eyes from Lockhart’s view. “And you’re not the decent young man who could have made something of himself.”
“I did! I’m wealthy beyond your imaginings. I’m clearly the better choice— and yet you wanted him. That baker, who kept you in squalor above his shop. How pedestrian. You threw over a banker for a baker.”
Talmadge nudged Malloy’s arm. “I believe we’ve heard enough. Care to help me lock the braggart in irons?”
Malloy grinned, accepting the handcuffs. “With pleasure.”
***
On Friday afternoon, Jane and Juliette rushed in from school and handed Adaline a letter from Malloy. The girls chattered happily, demanding to know when he’d be back.
“I don’t know yet.” She tugged on Juliette’s braid. “Wash your hands and put on your aprons. Cover the counter for me, and I’ll read his letter.”
Malloy had been gone since the Monday train. Despite a frantic week filling orders for various Christmas parties, she’d missed him. Desperately.
Already, the Christmas of 1900 had been among the most memorable. Surprisingly so, with Papa so recently passed on.
She wanted, more than anything, to share the holiday with Malloy.
At the drop-leaf table where the light was best, she slit open the envelope and prepared for disappointment.
Malloy did necessary, important work. She wouldn’t be surprised to hear he couldn’t leave First National Bank and wouldn’t be home for Christmas. She’d be disappointed, true, but all he did to provide the prosecution everything they needed showed her Malloy loved her.
She tried to convince herself it didn’t really matter what day he came home or if it happened to be in time for Christmas. She loved him, and they had many, many Christmases to look forward to.
She scanned his strong, fluid penmanship. I’m coming home to you. I’m about to have my first Christmas, ever, darlin’.
Meet me at the train depot Saturday, Dec 22nd?
Tomorrow! Yes. She couldn’t wait.
She settled in to read the rest of Malloy’s letter from the beginning. A love letter. She, Adaline Whipple, had received her first, from a wonderful man who cherished her.
Wednesday, 19 December 1900.
I love you. Nothing has been more evident, more obvious since I left you Monday evening.
He’d told her he loved her before boarding the train, but it had come as no surprise. Everything the man did reinforced the depth and breadth of his love... for her. How could she not know?
These three days away from you have been miserable, full to the brim, lonely, and rewarding.
The good news won’t keep ‘til I’m home with you. I worked with a team of accountants on Lockhart’s case. Two grueling eighteen-hour days later, we found the first of a string of verifiable facts proving the supposed mortgage Lockhart presented is a sham.
Your Mama was right. Lockhart bribed a loan officer to falsify papers, and he squealed, giving up the man who forged your papa’s signature.
He’s innocent, darlin’, and the man you believed him to be.
Adaline swept tears away.
Love for her father rushed in to fill the aching void left by his passing. How she loved her papa. How she missed him.
Shame at her own behavior made the tears come faster. Her father had never done anything to lose the family’s respect and allegiance.
Papa hadn’t betrayed the family.
But she had.
She’d fallen for Lockhart’s ploys, believed the worst of her own father. Lies had distanced her from him, soiled his memory. She’d allowed Lockhart room to accomplish something he’d had no ability to do on his own… divide her family.
How had she been so easily fooled?
She knew Papa. Knew his heart, his loyalty, and yet she hadn’t trusted— the very first time life tested her mettle.
Never again.
If Papa had somehow watched from heaven and knew of her mistake, he’d forgive her. Papa was like that. Still, shame and remorse made it difficult to forgive herself.
She vowed loyalty to her family, including Malloy, would always come first. Outside sources would never again sway her opinions. She’d trust and honor and respect those she loved most.
She found a kitchen towel to mop her face. With only a few more minutes ‘til she had to dig back into work, she returned to Malloy’s letter. She wanted to know what he said. She’d linger over it tonight by lamplight, soaking up every word, every phrase, every tender thought.
Still so much work left to do, darlin’, but no matter what, I’m on that train, come Saturday.
Until then, there’s somethin’ I want you to think about, real careful, so you’re ready to give me an answer on the train platform.
Her heartbeat tumbled over itself. He’d all but proposed. Would he officially ask?
Like I said, this will be my first Christmas. I want it to my first— of many Christmases to come. Without you, without your family, it can’t be.
You called me a drifter a time or two, and I’ve been thinkin’ about that. See, snow blows and tumbles until it gets caught up against something solid and immovable. Your bakery, for instance, or you and your family. The drift gets stuck, stays a while.
Eventually, the drift melts, seeps into the earth, and that water becomes a part of things, helps grass and bushes grow. Come summer, when the drift isn’t there anymore, it’s not right to say the drift up and moved on. Instead, it became part of things, permanently.
Apparently, Malloy thought he needed to reassure and explain.
The answer was already yes. A thousand times, yes.
He could stay, be part of her family, and she’d marry him. But first, he needed to state his intentions, if not outright ask.
He’d been away four days, the longest Adaline had been separated from him since he’d wandered into her shop one mid-September morning. He’d found her mere days after Papa’s funeral, the bleakest time of her life, and gave her a reason to smile. She was so grateful he’d stayed.
Last weekend’s panic and threat had fused their lives together, had shown her everything she needed to know about Malloy.
She would love him for the rest of her life.
When she had him in her arms once more— tomorrow— she’d tell him so. On Monday, the whole family had been there, watching, as she’d said goodbye, so she’d told him “I love you,” and left the private details for later.
I love you, darlin’, and I’m staying put. I’ve never been in love before, and I have no intention of ruining our chances of happiness. No job in Cheyenne appeals, not next to you and the sense of home I have when I’m with you.
For the first time in my life, I belong somewhere. I know where ‘home’ is. I’m missing somebody and hope that somebody misses me.
I’ve already sent a wire and told the boss I won’t be coming to Cheyenne. I gave a recommendation or two to help ‘em find somebody else. I have no desire to travel for work, so plan on me staying in Mountain Home.
Wouldn’t it be remarkable if Malloy could continue his forensic accounting right here? Surely a service like Wells Fargo could ensure safe transport of business records. It was worth looking into. She’d suggest it to him.
So I want you to think long and hard on this— How do you feel about taking on an apprentice? I want to train to be the baker’s assistant and work alongside you the way you used to work with your Papa.
With you as my teacher, I know I can learn. And make the Whipple family proud. I’d like to think I’ll eventually make Thaddeus Whipple proud.
Her brilliant-minded accountant who traced the untraceable, solved the unsolvable, fo
und the precise locations within the ledgers of First National Bank, Lockhart had hidden his illegal deeds… wanted to learn the trade of baking?
If that’s what he really wanted to do, of course she’d teach him. She’d welcome the opportunity to spend more time with him, enjoy his company… but somehow, she thought his question was based in something else altogether. She didn’t want him to lose himself to have her.
They’d talk about it. Whatever it was, they’d work through it. If last weekend had taught her anything, it was that she and Malloy could do anything— anything at all— when they had each other.
While you’re thinkin’ on the apprentice idea, I have another request. I know what I want for Christmas. I’m hopin’ it’s okay to ask for a special present, given this is my first Christmas. It won’t cost you nothin’, takes no time to make, doesn’t even need wrapping paper.
Can you guess?
The sheer joy of Malloy’s childlike glee at the approaching holiday and gift-giving so tangible, she could visualize excitement lighting his brilliant blue eyes. She had no idea what he might be thinking of. But if it took no time, cost nothing, didn’t need a moment’s preparation, she supposed she’d have no trouble saying yes and giving him his heart’s desire.
She had no idea what he’d put on top of his wish-list. She guessed it would be a surprise.
Now if only he’d offer to reciprocate in kind. She knew precisely what she’d love to receive from him on Christmas Day— his one and only name.
Chapter Ten
Thank God the train ran close to schedule the day Malloy returned to Mountain Home. He might have gone mad if he’d been delayed. He’d never been so anxious to be somewhere, ever in his life.
As the hulking engine slowed at the bend and approached town, Malloy took in the striking high mountain valley, brilliant color painted on the western sky, and lights sprinkled here and there in windows.
Beautiful. Peaceful. Home.
He pictured Adaline waiting near the potbellied stove in the station watching the train.
Now that the case against Lockhart was closed and the work completed, Malloy had never felt so optimistic about the future. While in Denver, he’d heard from Liam Talmadge, just a short telegram informing him Lockhart had been transferred to custody of the Colorado Rangers.
He’d helped slay Adaline’s dragons, restored her trust in her papa, and had fallen in love with the most captivating woman he’d ever imagined.
The moment the train doors opened, he dropped to the platform, searched left and right, and located her, standing alone— yes!— near the end. Malloy ran, scooped her up, and spun her about in a circle.
She squealed with good-natured delight. “Welcome home, handsome. Merry Christmas.”
He sought her mouth and kissed her thoroughly before allowing her toes to touch the platform. She slid down the length of his body, but he didn’t want to let her go.
She tasted of mint tooth powder and tempting woman and promises that last a lifetime. Desperation drove him to claim a second kiss. Then a third.
She clutched his collar, held him close, and returned his ardor in full measure.
His heart, full to bursting, overflowed.! How had he ever thought himself content without this woman by his side?
“Merry Christmas, darlin’.” His voice cracked. Tears threatened. He’d been gored by a bull, thrown from a bronco, busted a leg back in ‘92, and never once had he cried. He hadn’t known himself able.
“I don’t want to live without you, Adaline Whipple, not one more day.” His breath appeared as white clouds of steam in the frigid air. “Marry me. Let me sink my roots, right here in Mountain Home, with you. Give this homeless cowboy a place to belong.”
She framed his face with mittened hands, the intimacy of extended eye contact warming him clear through. Travelers might be bustling along the platform, but as far as Malloy knew, they were entirely alone.
She kissed the tip of his nose. “You’re not homeless any longer. You belong with me. And I with you. My answer is yes.”
“Shoot. I was gonna wait until you answered me about apprenticing me in baking. And wait to see if you gave me my most-wanted Christmas gift. Wait… you did just agree to marry me, didn’t you?”
She laughed, the sound ringing like silver sleigh bells in the cold air. The sun dipped behind the mountains, lengthening shadows and burnishing her features in shades of gold and red.
“I love you, Malloy, I love you inside and out.”
“So, can I have my Christmas present early?” He grinned at the wariness that crept over her features.
“Depends, I suppose, on what it is you’re asking for.”
He grinned, wide as the broad side of a barn. By her expression, he guessed she had a few ‘presents’ in mind that would be scandalous to give or receive on the train platform.
“I want two more names,” he confided. “And I want you to give them to me.”
“Okay…?” She touched his face. “You mean you want me to choose first and middle names, so you can sign our marriage license with more than ‘Malloy’?” She winked and fire awoke in his belly.
“Nope. I already know what name I want.”
“I don’t see why you need me involved, then. I love you no matter what your name is. To me, you’re Malloy, and that’s more than enough.”
“I want to be known as Whip Malloy. And on special documents, I want to use Thaddeus as a middle name.” He watched her close, for any sign she’d find his choice uncomfortable. “Mama already gave me her blessing.”
“When did you talk to my mother?”
“Our Mama, darlin’, and I sent her a wire yesterday, askin’ for three favors.”
“Oh?”
“First— send you to the station alone. Second— let me use Thaddeus and most of Whipple as my own name. Third— reminded her she already gave me permission to court you and marry you when the time came.” He searched her face in the fading light. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
She put her hand to her mouth, as if awestruck. The way she looked at him, like he’d hung the moon and the stars bolstered his confidence.
“It’s true.” With reverence, he kissed her forehead. “I’m stunned a gorgeous gal like you will consider a wanderer like me.”
“Drifter,” she said. “Not wanderer.”
He chuckled. “Drifter, it is.”
“Just warning you, Drifter, I’ll never get tired of hearing you say I’m beautiful or gorgeous or any word like that you choose.” Her eyes filled with tears and she gazed at him with such tenderness he knew how much simple expressions of truth meant to her. He’d make sure he complimented her every single day.
“Why, darlin’?”
She shrugged, a little lift of one shoulder. “I’m not— I’ve never felt like either. Plump, dowdy, plain—”
“Hush. You’re gorgeous. Breathtaking. Gracious.”
“I have quite superior eyesight, Malloy, and I know what I see in the mirror.”
“And I, darlin’, know just what I see when I look at you. A kind, loving, and peaceable lady who’s the loveliest, most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. And you’re mine.”
“Yes. I’m yours.” She slipped her arms around his middle and hugged him tight. Several moments passed and he savored every last one.
“You do know I love you just as you are, Malloy, don’t you?”
“Of course, darlin’.”
“I love you because you’re bright, capable, because you knew just what to do when Lockhart showed up with that mortgage.” She paused, seemed to think something through. “Are you taking my father’s name, wanting to work with me at the bakery thinking I’ll love you more? That we’ll somehow be a better match or make a happier couple?”
“No, it’s not like that…” but deep inside, she made him think real hard and examine his motivation up close. He’d been frustrated by his need to earn a living from Oregon to Kansas, and Wisc
onsin to California. “I just don’t want to be on the road all the time. I don’t want my wife here, at home, and miss out on the day-to-day pleasures of spending my life with you. I want to talk and lay in bed side by side on lazy Sunday mornings. I want to be there when you need me. I want marriage and a life with you far more than I want to keep a line of work that ensured I had no home to call my own and lived with loneliness as a constant companion.”
“Why don’t you keep doing your accounting, but from Mountain Home? You have a gift, Malloy, and you make a difference. I fell in love with you because of your bright and capable mind. You know I want to call you Malloy— just Malloy. It suits you. And I love you.”
“You know, darlin’, I could say the same things to you. You’re perfect, precious, loved, just as you are.” He couldn’t help but smile, and kissed her because he wanted to and because she loved him. She wanted to be his wife. “You’re right, darlin’. I can hang my shingle here in Mountain Home, as well as anywhere. Let’s make it work, you and I.”
“You know,” he told her, “I seem to remember that when you and I put our heads together, we can figure anything out. We can accomplish anything we want to. We make an unstoppable team.”
She chuckled and nuzzled the hollow of his throat.
“Why are we standing here in the cold, when we could be somewhere warm?”
“Because here, I have you all to myself.”
“Uh huh.”
“Thank you.” She kissed his mouth, a lingering kiss that made him glad she’d agreed to marry him, and quick. “Thank you for wanting to honor my father by taking his name. He would have loved you.”
“I know for a fact I would have loved him. And I want to take his name, just those little additions of a first and middle name… or maybe initials. What do you think of naming sons after their grandpa?”
“I like it, a lot.”
“I do, too.” Malloy tipped his head back and took in the gathering dark skies and the first stars beginning to appear. “Your Papa brought us together. Whether we had a bit of help from our own new Christmas Angel— that’d be your pa, by the way— ensuring my lonely heart found yours, or if it was simply Lockhart’s mean-spirited meddling, your father most certainly brought us together.”
Silver Belles and Stetsons Page 37
