Lee didn't answer. He simply stood there looking at Mary. He didn't want to reveal the terms of Tabitha's will. But above all, he didn't want to hurt Mary. And Lee knew the truth was going to hurt.
"But you didn't have a wife, did you, Liam Gordon Maclntyre Kincaid? So you had to get one. Within what… thirty days or so?" Mary paused. "I'm just guessing, but I'm willing to bet that getting married within a certain amount of time was one of the terms of Tabitha's will, wasn't it?"
Lee remained silent.
"Answer me!" she ordered. "And don't give me any more of Pinkerton's theories concerning the truth. I want the real version. Do the terms stated in Tabitha Gray's will say anything about you getting married within a certain amount of time? Yes or no?" Tears sparkled in Mary's brown eyes.
"Yes," Lee answered quietly.
Mary stepped back away from him. Suddenly, she couldn't bear the thought of Lee Kincaid touching her, comforting her. The truth shouldn't hurt so much. She had known all along that Lee had a specific reason for marrying her, and had suspected that his partner's will had played a part in his decision. But she hadn't known for sure. And she had learned the hard way that ignorance was sometimes bliss. Until this afternoon, Mary hadn't known that Lee's former partner was a beautiful woman. No, the fact that Lee had married her to fulfill a personal agenda hadn't come as a big surprise, but that his reason had been mandated by his former partner—by a woman he had obviously loved— came as a terrible shock. Mary took a deep breath before she asked the next question. "Did she name anyone in particular? Or did she leave the choice up to you? Was I first choice, or the only one foolish enough to agree?" Her voice broke.
"Mary, don't do this," he begged.
"Answer me!"
"She didn't name anyone in particular," Lee said. "I chose you."
"And how much time did she give you to select your bride?"
"Thirty days from the date of her death."
"Ah," Mary said. "The standard amount. And how much time had elasped between the date of her death and the moment you barged in on my wedding?"
"Nine days." Lee watched as silent tears rolled down Mary's face.
"I suppose I should be flattered," she told him. "You still had twenty-one days to find the girl of your dreams before the deadline expired and you settled for me."
"I didn't settle."
"Hmmf," Mary snorted derisively. "Excuse me if I don't believe you. It seems I've heard one too many of Pinkerton's theories."
Lee shrugged his shoulders.
"Tell me the other terms." Mary's normally calm voice sounded brittle, as if she was on the verge of hysteria.
"You know most of them already."
"I want to know all of them," she insisted. "As your chosen helpmate, I think I have that right."
Lee gritted his teeth at Mary's stubborn insistence and a muscle in his jaw ticked under the strain. "There were five unalterable terms. I had to agree to keep the mine and the house for a period of no less than twenty years. I must resign from The Pinkerton National Detective Agency within ninety days from the date of Tabitha's death, and I must agree not to work in any area of law enforcement. The fourth condition of the will was that I marry and settle in Utopia within thirty days of her death, and that I allow Judah Crane to witness the marriage."
"And the final condition?" Mary prompted when Lee grew silent.
"My wife and I have to agree to adopt Madeline and raise her as our own child."
"Tabitha Gray has my utmost admiration," Mary said softly. "She was very thorough." And very sure of Lee. Tabitha had been so sure of Lee that she made unreasonable demands on him and expected to have those demands realized. She had manipulated him, demanded that he rearrange his life to suit her needs, and Lee had agreed to her terms. Just as he had asked Tessa to marry him to fulfill Eamon Roarke's deathbed wish. Mary envied Tabitha for that feeling of confidence. But most of all Mary envied her for knowing how much Lee would do for her and how much he loved her. Because Lee Kincaid had to have loved Tabitha very much to make these sacrifices for her.
"Supper is ready!" Louisa's voice carried up the stairs and down the hall.
"I'll wake Judah," Lee volunteered.
"I'll get Maddy. You can take both of them down to supper."
"What about you?" He was concerned.
"I'm not hungry."
"Mary, you have to eat."
"No, I don't," Mary told him. "I only have to see that the rest of Utopia does."
Lee stroked the edge of his mustache and his voice, when he spoke, was husky and deeper than normal. "Mary, I never meant to hurt you."
But whether he meant to or not, the fact was that Lee Kincaid had hurt her. And a small part of Mary wanted to hurt him back. He didn't care about her at all. He was still in love with Tabitha Gray. "You say a lot of things you don't mean," she told him. "Just this morning you promised to kill the next man to make me cry." Mary put her hand in her skirt pocket, pulled out her pearl-handled, silver two-shot derringer and handed it to him. "It's not very accurate at a distance, but at close range, it will do the job nicely." With that parting comment, Mary turned her back on him and exited through the dressing room door.
Lee watched her leave, then focused his attention on the tiny silver gun she had placed in his hand. She was right. He had promised to kill the next man who made her cry. And if he had any sense of decency—of chivalry—he'd put the gun to head and pull the trigger right away. Before he hurt her again.
* * *
Chapter Sixteen
Mary awoke the following morning to find herself burrowed into the thick goose down mattresses and the mound of quilts on the big brass bed in Lee's bedroom. The room was dark and Mary fought her rising panic as she quickly reached out and found the lamp and the matches. Her hands shook as she lit the lamp and turned to identify the warmth pressed against her.
Mary breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it was Maddy who lay cuddled beside her. Her head ached from the hours she'd cried before she finally fell into an exhausted sleep and her eyes were puffy and swollen, but her memory was intact. Mary knew she hadn't wandered into Lee's dark room by accident or fallen asleep in his bed. But the trouble was that she had no recollection of how she came to be there—until Lee entered the bedroom. His blond hair was damp, and his face was freshly shaven. A thick, white towel was draped over one bare shoulder and a pair of well-fitted black trousers, only partially buttoned, rode low on his slim hips.
"Good morning." He greeted Mary politely, not the least bit surprised to find her in his bed.
"1 see you're still living and breathing," she answered icily.
"Disappointed?" he asked.
"Very."
"Well, I guess there's no point in asking if you're still angry. But you're talking to me and that's always a good sign." He smiled at her as he casually buttoned his pants.
"Signs can be deceiving," she reminded him.
Lee chuckled. "I see the morning isn't your best time of day."
Mary turned toward the window. "How do you know it's morning? The sun's not even up yet."
Lee lifted a gold pocket watch off the bedside table. "I carry a watch," he replied. "And I know how to tell time. It's"—he turned the wick up on the lamp, then opened the watch and looked down at the face—"seven minutes after five." He snapped the lid closed, then placed the watch in his trouser pocket.
Mary groaned.
"And even if I couldn't tell time, I could hear the racket going on downstairs and smell the coffee brewing. We've been invaded. Louisa's downstairs cooking."
Galvanized by the fear of being discovered lying abed while everyone else was downstairs helping with breakfast, Mary flipped back the covers and scrambled to get to her feet. "How did I get in here? I distinctly remember going to bed in the room across the hall."
"Would you believe you sleepwalked? That you followed your desires and came straight to me?" Lee deadpanned.
"No, I would not!"
&nb
sp; "Well, then, the truth is that I brought you in here and put you to bed as soon as I heard Louisa moving around in the kitchen. You were dead to the world."
"Then I didn't… we didn't…" Mary stopped abruptly.
Lee winked at her. "I was tempted." He stared down at her shapely legs exposed to his view as her white nightgown rode up her thighs while Mary struggled out of the bed. "I admit to being partial to your long, lovely legs."
Mary grabbed the hem of her gown and tugged it down as she stood up. "How did you get into my bedroom?" she demanded. "I know I locked the door." Mary stomped around the bedroom searching for the fine linen wrapper that matched her nightgown.
Lee shrugged his shoulders, then grinned. "I unlocked it."
She stopped searching and spun around to face him. "How?"
He lifted her robe from the back of a chair and handed it to her. "By picking the lock."
Mary grabbed the wrap, shoved her arms into the sleeves, and tied the ribbon at the waist in three quick jerky motions. "Why?" Her voice rose.
"Keep it down," he cautioned, glancing at Madeline asleep on the bed. "Please. You'll wake Maddy."
Mary took a deep breath, then nodded slowly.
"1 woke up early," Lee explained. "I couldn't go back to sleep, so I decided to go downstairs and put on a pot of coffee." He didn't tell her that he hadn't slept at all after their argument; that he had left Ettinger House after supper and walked to the depot to telegraph William Pinkerton, or that he'd received a reply around midnight and spent the remainder of the night packing and pacing the bedroom floor until he had decided what he should do next. "I was halfway down the stairs when I heard Louisa and a couple of other women come in the back door. I heard Louisa tell them we were newlyweds and that she wanted to surprise us with breakfast in bed."
"How sweet!"
"Yeah, well, it wouldn't be so sweet if they had to serve the honeymooners breakfast in bed in two different rooms. It would tend to spoil the romance. Besides, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that we would look more like a happily married couple—a honeymooning couple—if we were sleeping in the same bed. So I crept back up the stairs, went into your room and got you, then carried you back in here." He pulled out his watch and checked the time once again. "That was about fifteen or twenty minutes ago. They should be knocking on the door any minute now."
"What about Maddy?" Mary asked.
"I don't know," he said. "She must have come in while I was washing up. I saw her curled up beside you when I came back into the room to get a clean pair of pants."
The image of Lee striding naked back and forth across the room popped into Mary's brain. She felt the rush of warmth color her cheeks. She didn't have to imagine how he looked. She had seen him yesterday and couldn't get the image out of her mind.
She cleared her throat. "You explained what happened," Mary told him. "And how I came to be here. But you didn't explain why I'm here."
Lee took a deep breath. "Mary, I know you're hurt. I know I hurt you—I heard you crying last night. And you had every right to be angry, to feel betrayed, and to say what you said to me. But we've made a promise to each other. And despite what you may think of me, I don't take that promise lightly. I married you. You married me." He held up his hand when Mary would have interrupted. "Hear me out. The fact is that we married each other, and right now the reasons we made the choices we made don't really matter. I tried to tell myself this whole idea was a mistake, but I don't believe it. Regardless of how it came about, this marriage between us feels right to me. And I want my second chance. I want this union to work."
Mary's heart seemed to skip a beat at his words. The last thing she had expected Lee to say, after last night's fiasco, was that he wanted to make the marriage work. But he had.
Lee Kincaid had offered her an apology and said he wanted to stay married to her.
Lee continued, "So I carried you in here this morning because I think it's important that we try to play the part of the happy couple for the people of Utopia. If we work at it some, we might even become a happy couple, and if not, then I intend to play at being happily married until I'm able to adopt Maddy."
"Until we're able," Mary corrected. "And if not… what about after the adoption? What happens then?"
He froze at the sound of china and silver clattering against a tray coming up the stairs. "I don't know," Lee answered honestly. "I only know that I don't want to do anything to jeopardize my… our… chances of becoming Maddy's parents." He looked at Mary. "This is as important to me as looking happy on our wedding day was for you. After that, well, then, I guess it's up to you. If you're still unhappy, if you want to call it quits and go back to Cheyenne, well, then…" He let his words trail off.
Mary recognized the expression of uncertainty that crossed his handsome face, even though she was quite sure he hadn't worn one often. For whatever reason, this pretense of wedded bliss meant a great deal to him. It was every bit as important to him as he said it was. But Mary didn't believe Lee's wanting to keep Maddy was his sole reason for pretending. There was something more, some other reason that he left unsaid. And her instincts told her that the feelings Lee couldn't put into words were just as important to him as the reason he gave her. Perhaps even more important. Mary remembered how Lee had allowed her to coerce him into pretending to be her long lost love, her hero, at their wedding reception. He hadn't asked why she wanted him to pretend. He had simply asked how she wanted him to play the part. She had been grateful for his understanding that she needed to save face—to pretend she was a blissfully happy bride. Lee Kincaid had played along for her two days ago, and now she would return the favor. She would show him she could forget the hurt she'd felt last night, forget her anger, and meet him halfway. No man wanted a whole town to know his bride had cried herself to sleep on her honeymoon. No man wanted a whole town to know he had slept alone. No man wanted to admit that he had failed. This was a matter of pride, and after living in the company of a ranch full of strong men, Mary understood Lee's need to protect his masculine pride.
During the long wakeful hours of last night, she had come to terms with the reality of her marriage. She loved Lee Kincaid. But he didn't, couldn't, return her feelings. He loved someone else. He still loved Tabitha Gray.
Mary had come to her moment of truth. She had to make a decision—to accept her present situation and work toward building a future with Lee, even if that future didn't include his loving her, or to give up and go home to Cheyenne.
She marveled at the change in her thinking. Two days ago, she'd been willing to marry Pelham with no hope of ever loving him or having him love her. But it was different with Lee. With Lee she wanted—no, demanded—the fairy tale happy ending. He had ridden up like Prince Charming on a white stallion and rescued her from the terrible mistake she'd been about to make. She had known the risks when she willingly accepted Lee's marriage offer… had known there was more to his offer than he let on, and yet she had jumped headlong from the frying pan into the fire. Could she blame him for the burns she'd suffered? And if she gave up on her marriage and Lee Kincaid now, could she live with her regrets? She had made a huge leap of faith when she agreed to marry him, trusting in her belief that love would conquer all and make things right. If she went home to the Trail T, could she live the rest of her life with the thoughts of what might have been and what she might have had if she had stayed?
Mary shook her head. She wasn't a quitter, she was a fighter. And if she couldn't have Lee Kincaid's love, then she would work to get the next best thing. She could build upon the physical attraction between them. She would use the desire she saw in his eyes each time he looked at her to her advantage. She loved Lee Kincaid, and she was about to embark on a course of no return. Even if she never had his love, she could have his children. She could give him the family she sensed he needed so desperately. She could provide a place for him to come home to—a house filled with warmth and love—with Maddy and Judah and the people of Utopia.
Eventually, if she was lucky, she would earn his friendship and his respect, if not his undying devotion. And fifty years from now, if she worked at making him happy long enough and hard enough, Lee would forget that he didn't love her and remember that he couldn't live without her. Mary smiled. Friendship and respect and sexual attraction were good foundations for a lasting marriage. Lots of marriages had started out with less and had grown into more. She could do it, and she could start right away. Now. Before she had time to think things through—before she lost her courage. Thinking quickly, Mary ordered, "Take Maddy back to her room."
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"Don't worry about me. Take Maddy and hurry. They're coming."
Lee didn't waste any more time. He bent and whisked the sleeping child off the bed and hurried through the dressing room door to her room.
Mary threw off her wrapper and climbed back into bed. She propped herself up against the pillows and hastily unplaited her long black hair. She bit her bottom lip, debating for a moment, before she daringly untied the top ribbon on her white ruffled nightdress and unbuttoned three of the tiny pearl buttons.
She barely had the buttons undone when Louisa tapped on the bedroom door and called cheerily, "Good morning! I've brought your breakfast. Are you decent?"
Mary opened her mouth to answer, but Lee stopped her. He put his finger to his mouth, gesturing for her to be quiet as he slipped between the covers. "Lovers never answer the first knock," he whispered as he rolled into bed beside her. "Let her wait a minute or two."
"But…"
"Ssh," he whispered again, his face a fraction of an inch from hers, "this has to look real." Then Lee closed the distance between them, kissing Mary thoroughly before she had a chance to say anything more.
"How are you feeling this morning, dear?" Louisa asked as Mary opened the bedroom door to admit her, moments later. "Mr. Kincaid said you were too tired to come down to supper last night. Are you feeling better now?"
Something Borrowed Page 16
