Page 33 of Silver Lining
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.
