*
The sheriff stepped out of his office just as Grant rode past on his horse. “Why, you sneaky dog, you,” he called after him. “Congratulations.”
Ignoring him, Grant urged Chester into a full gallop.
People actually thought that Tommy’s courtroom shenanigans had been a legal trick.
As if he would agree to such a thing. He still couldn’t believe Tommy had acted on his own. Grant hadn’t thought the young man had it in him. Even more surprising, Meg seemed to go along with it.
He’d obviously attached more importance to their New Year’s kiss than she had. How could he have been so wrong?
He was so focused on his thoughts that at first he didn’t see the widow Rockwell dragging a small table across the street. When he did, he was tempted to keep going, but she looked so weary that he didn’t have the heart.
Dismounting, he tethered his horse to the fence. “Here, let me help you with that.”
The woman’s face melted into a grateful smile. “Thank you, Mr. Garrison. Much obliged.”
He picked up the table and hauled it across the street. “Didn’t we move this yesterday?”
She looked blank. “Was it just yesterday? Why, I guess it was.” She pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders. “Which house do you think I should live in?”
“Beats me,” Grant said. “They both look the same.” In truth, the houses were identical down to the blue trim.
She pointed to the stairs at the side of one house. “As a child, my husband slept upstairs in the loft.”
Her eyes glazed over, and a look of confusion crossed her face. “Or was it that house?”
Grant suddenly realized that the woman wasn’t off her rocker, as he had supposed; rather, she was grieving, and that was something he knew about.
Recalling how good it had felt to talk to Meg about his sister, he said, “Tell me about your husband, Mrs. Rockwell.”
The woman looked surprised and then pleased. “You want to know about my Charley?”
“Yes, and I’ll tell you about Meg.”
“Who’s Meg?”
“What?”
“You said you’d tell me about Meg. Was she your wife?”
“No, no, I mean…” Grant shook his head. Where was his brain? “I meant to say Mary, my sister. I’ll tell you about her.”
But even as he spoke about his beloved twin, his mind kept drifting back to Meg.
*
“I can’t do this!” Meg cried out, hands planted on her waist.
At long last, she and Tommy had managed to escape the crowd of well-wishers. Now it was just the two of them, facing each other on her front porch like two combatants.
“I hafta marry you, Meg. Don’t you see? It’s the only honor’ble thing to do.”
Tommy looked like he’d just been in a fight. Shirttails hanging over his trousers, he’d somehow managed to lose his bow tie, and his spiked hair stood on end as if it had been combed with an eggbeater.
“Don’t talk to me about honor. If you were all that honorable, you would never have left me at the altar in the first place!”
“I don’t blame you for bein’ riled. If I was you, I’d be mad too.”
“Mad doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel!” She threw up her hands. “You knew the judge was about to rule in my favor. That’s the only reason you agreed to marry me.”
Tommy grimaced and raked his fingers through his hair. His shoulders drooped along with his expression. “Meg…the only way my family can come up with ten grand is if we sell the shop and mortgage the house. Even then”—he shook his head—“that won’t even begin to pay for legal fees.”
“Oh, Tommy, no. You can’t do that.”
“If I don’t marry you, my family will end up at the county poor farm.”
She felt trapped. Worse, she felt sorry for him. For the whole Farrell family. “I don’t want your money, Tommy. I don’t.”
“It doesn’t matter. The judge said if I don’t marry you this time, I better come up with the big bucks else he’s throwin’ me in jail.”
“Oh dear goodness.” Her heart rose to her throat. “He can’t do that.”
“He’s the judge. He can do anythin’ he wants.”
Her mind whirled. There had to be a way. “I’ll have Papa talk to him. Tell him we don’t want the money.”
Tommy shook his head. “The judge made his rulin’. There ain’t nothin’ we can do. ’Sides, everyone is countin’ on the Farrell-Lockwood feud comin’ to an end.”
He was right. It was no longer just the two of them affected. It was the whole town. How did life become so complicated?
“What did Grant…uh…your lawyer say?” If Tommy noticed her slip of tongue, he gave no indication.
“He said that marryin’ you was the only way out.”
Tommy only confirmed what she already suspected, but still Meg felt her heart squeeze tight. “He…he said that?” So he had planned this all along. The kiss was just a…what? A ruse? A game? A way to keep her distracted?
“Don’t look so horrified, Meg. You make it sound like marryin’ me is the end of the world.”
That’s exactly what it felt like, but she didn’t want to say as much. “What…what about Asia and the Pacific Islands?”
Tommy shrugged as if his dreams were of no consequence, but the faraway look in his eyes told her otherwise. “It won’t be so bad. I’ll be a good husband to you, Meg. I swear. I’ll never stray, and I won’t cause you any more problems. Maybe one day, we can go the islands. Just you and me.”
She tried to breathe, but something like a boulder was lodged in her chest. This whole mess was partly her fault. If only she’d known her true feelings from the start. She loved Tommy, she did, but now she realized that love was more like for a brother than a lover.
“I don’t know, Tommy…”
“We don’t have to go to the islands,” he said, misunderstanding her hesitation. “We can go to Paris or Ireland or even Italy.”
The more he talked, the lower Meg’s spirits fell. Her feelings for Tommy had never caused her to lose sleep or stop eating, not even when he’d left her at the altar. Not like the people who wrote to Miss Lonely Hearts. She’d experienced none of the tortured misery of a broken love affair as described in the letters. None of the heartache.
If she could force herself to love Tommy as he deserved to be loved, she would gladly do so. But the heart had a mind of its own, and the most anyone could do was follow.
Of course, that didn’t mean she had feelings for anyone else. Certainly not for Grant. Not now. Not after he’d thrown her under a train, so to speak, rather than lose his case.
“There’s somethin’ else,” Tommy said, staring down at his feet.
She gulped and knotted her hands by her sides in an effort to brace herself. Something in his voice told her that things were about to get a whole lot worse.
“What is it, Tommy?”
He looked up. “Judge Lynch is only in town for another week.”
She frowned. “So?”
“That means that I have seven days to come up with ten grand or—”
Her stomach turned over. “Or…or what?”
“Marry you.”
Twenty-five
Josie’s door opened to Meg’s knock.
“Oh, Meg. Come in.” Josie took Meg’s hand and pulled her inside. “Are you all right?”
Meg gave a wooden nod. “As all right as I’ll ever be.”
Josie closed the door. “Come. Amanda’s here, and I made us tea.” She led the way into the kitchen.
Amanda didn’t even wait for Meg to sit before bombarding her. “What is this I hear about you marrying Tommy? Everyone in town is talking about it. Are you out of your cotton-picking mind?”
Meg pulled out a chair and sat. “No. I mean yes. I mean I don’t know.”
Amanda leaned forward on crossed arms. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
Josie fill
ed Meg’s cup. “It’s not her fault.” She set the teapot on the table. “Tell Amanda what happened in court.”
Meg sighed. “The judge was just about to give his ruling—”
“And he was about to rule for Meg,” Josie interjected.
Meg reached into her sleeve for her handkerchief. “That’s when Tommy jumped up and said he wanted to marry me.”
Amanda sat back, aghast. “And you accepted?”
Josie answered for her. “Meg had no choice. Not after Mr. Farrell and Papa agreed to make Two-Time a one-time town, but only after the wedding.”
“What else could I do but say yes?” Meg asked. Everyone counted on the feud coming to an end, but that wasn’t all. She then explained the impossible position Tommy was in. Had put her in. Grant had put them both in. “If we don’t marry, his family will be in financial ruin. I don’t even know if they can raise ten grand. Either way, we have less than a week to get married.”
“A week!”
Josie nodded. “That’s all time the judge will give them.”
Meg sighed. “I asked Barnes to talk to him, but it was no use. The judge said we already have the fixings for a wedding, so there was no reason for delay.”
Josie squeezed Meg’s hand. “He also said that the sooner our two families are joined through marriage, the sooner the town’s clocks could be synchronized.”
“What does Papa say?” Amanda asked. “You know how he feels about Tommy. About the whole family. Surely he disapproves.”
Meg dabbed at her eyes. “He agrees with the judge’s decision.”
“What!” Amanda’s gaze darted from Meg to Josie and back again. “But he never wanted you to marry Tommy in the first place. He’s never had a civil word to say about him. What made him change his mind?”
“He says my reputation is ruined. And he’s right—it is. Who would want to marry me now after everything that’s happened?”
Meg’s thoughts traveled back to New Year’s Eve. Grant sure hadn’t made her feel like damaged goods that night. What a fool she was! Would she ever be able to trust another man?
“Oh, Meg,” Josie said. “I’m sure some nice man will come along and see you for the wonderful, loving woman you are.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Meg sighed. “Every man in town thinks I’ll sue at the drop of a hat. Why, just the other day Mr. Harrison refused to sell me a bar of that new Ivory soap. Said he didn’t want me suing if it didn’t float.”
Amanda made a face. “Trust me, you don’t need floating soap, and you certainly don’t need a man. Women have more choices today than poor Mama had. Marriage is no longer a woman’s only option.”
“Maybe not,” Josie said, “but there are still more good reasons for getting married than not.”
“Like bringing a town together,” Meg added. If nothing else good came out of this marriage, at least she could take comfort in that.
Amanda wrinkled her nose. “And Papa agreed to the town having only one time?” she asked, looking as doubtful as she sounded.
“He didn’t have much choice,” Josie said. “I, for one, will be happy to see the end of this silly feud.”
“Don’t count on it.” Amanda took a sip of tea before adding, “The clocks might change, but Papa’s attitude won’t. He doesn’t see much beyond his own nose. Nor does he understand how his stubbornness affects others.”
Meg’s heart sank. What if she married Tommy and nothing changed? What if the town remained as divided as ever?
“We still don’t know what caused the feud in the first place,” Josie said.
“And probably never will,” Meg added.
Josie regarded her with a worried frown. “Are you okay with this, Meg? Marrying Tommy?”
“It’s for a good cause.” Meg heaved a heavy sigh. Maybe given time, she and Tommy would come to love each other like a proper married couple should.
Amanda rolled her eyes. “And you make fun of my causes. At least I’m not required to change my name or kowtow to a man.”
Josie’s brow creased. “Meg, you didn’t answer my question.”
Meg took a deep breath. She didn’t even know how to answer. “I did want to marry him at one time, but so much has happened. I just don’t feel the same as I once did.”
“Oh, Meg.” Josie shook her head. “That’s no way to start a marriage. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Meg said and looked away. “I just don’t know.”
Twenty-six
Meg stood in front of the mirror in the church anteroom, dressed in her wedding gown. Mama had done an amazing job of mending the tear, and it was almost invisible now. Too bad hearts couldn’t be as easily patched.
It had been the longest week of Meg’s life, and the shadows beneath her eyes attested to the fact that it had also been the hardest. Her sisters and Mama had left the room to take care of some last-minute preparations. Meg was grateful to be alone, though her thoughts gave her no comfort.
This was her wedding day, and she felt…what? Nervous? Anxious? Sad? Disheartened? Actually, she would settle for any of those feelings. But all she felt was numb.
She went through the motions with little thought or care. It was like everything was happening to someone else.
Following a quick tap on the door, her father’s head popped in.
“Tommy’s here,” he said.
Meg tried not to let her dismay show. Any hope of him leaving her at the altar a second time was now gone. The sharp edge of guilt ripped through her. Tommy had done everything possible to make up for all the trouble he’d caused. He’d apologized, not just once but several times during the last few days. So why was she still holding a grudge, if that’s what it was? Why did she feel so utterly trapped?
“He’s early,” she said, the words like acid on her tongue.
“He’s not early at all,” Papa said. “He’s right on time. Lockwood time. Guess that means he plans to go through with the wedding. Got a minute?”
“Of course.”
He pushed the door open all the way and stood gazing at her, a suspicious gleam in his eyes. “You look beautiful. Just like your mother did on her wedding day.” He stepped into the room carrying a box and closed the door with a backward thrust of his foot.
Meg forced a smile. “And you look so handsome.”
His tie was crooked and his hair slightly mussed, but somehow that made him look all the more endearing. It was easy to blame her father for the whole terrible mess, but the truth was she was equally at fault. Papa had warned her from the start to stay away from Tommy, insisting he was nothing but trouble. Had she not been so mule-headed, she might have listened. Instead, she’d rebelled by imagining her feelings for Tommy were more intense than they really were.
“I wanted to give you your wedding present. It just arrived from France.” Setting the box on a chair, he pulled out a gold clock and placed it on the mantel.
“Oh, Papa. It’s beautiful. But…” She checked her pendant watch. “But the time is wrong.” It was running fast.
“Not wrong, my pet. That’s the time that Farrell and I agreed upon. It’s the standard time set by the Harvard College Observatory, adjusted by longitude and latitude. We’re now running ahead of the sun.” He shook his head. “God forgive us.”
Meg flung her arms around her father’s neck, and he got all red in the face. She pulled away. “Does this mean that you and Farrell have made up?”
A look of disgust crossed his face. “Let’s not go overboard. We agreed to synchronize the town’s clocks, that’s all.” He forced her to look at him with a finger to her chin. “Isn’t that enough?”
She pulled away. “I’m going to be a Farrell, Papa.” If that wasn’t enough, she and Tommy planned to live with his parents for at least the first year of their marriage.
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”
“Papa!”
“All right, all right. Not another disparaging word about the Farre
lls will pass through these lips.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. “That will be the day.”
He laughed too.
She grew serious. “Papa.” She knew better than to pursue the subject, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. “What happened to make you and Mr. Farrell hate each other?”
He heaved a sigh. “Meg, we’ve been over this before.”
“But you’ve never answered my question.”
Her father’s face darkened. “Why do you keep pushing it, Meg? Nothing that happened in the past affects you.”
“Oh, but it does, Papa. Don’t you see? It affects this whole town. Our families not talking will affect every holiday, our children…”
At the mention of children, her father grimaced. The thought of sharing grandchildren with his nemesis was evidently a hard pill to swallow. “I’ll see that it doesn’t. I just want you to be happy.”
That’s all she wanted too, but she didn’t know if that was possible now. Tommy didn’t make her heart flutter. Not the way Grant Garrison did when he kissed her. She drew in her breath. Why did the memory continue to haunt her? She now knew the kiss had meant nothing to him. That she meant nothing to him. So why keep obsessing over it? And on her wedding day, no less.
“All right. Have it your way.” She started for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To find Tommy’s father. If you won’t tell me the reason for the feud, maybe my future father-in-law will.”
He threw up his hands. “For the love of Pete. What has gotten into you?”
“I mean it. If you won’t tell me, I’ll insist that Mr. Farrell does.” In a softer voice she added, “You owe me that much, Papa.”
Her father’s shoulders sagged, and he rubbed his hands over his face. Finally he said, “What I’m about to tell you stays in this room. You’re not to breathe a word of this to anyone. Do I make myself clear?”
She stilled. “I won’t. I promise.”
He glanced at the clock as if hoping for a reprieve. When the clock remained silent, he began, “Farrell was in love with your mother. And she was in love—” He stopped as if the mere effort of saying the words was too much for him to bear.
Left at the Altar Page 17
