Page 48 of Silver Lining
That was the answer she wanted to hear. She poured another cup of tea, then led the conversation into the next area where she required assistance.
"Now that I've had a chance to think about everything, I've concluded I don't want to live on an isolated ranch. I never did." Sharing a home with Livvy McCord was a hundred times worse than living in the house Max had built for her. Livvy's sharp blue eyes made her uncomfortable, made her feel as if she didn't quite measure up. This was utterly ridiculous, and she resented it. "I want us to live in town with you, Daddy."
"There's enough scandal raging without everyone in town watching your belly grow," he snapped. "And you know they will. Besides which, when you do finally move to town, you need your own home, one that's equipped with a nursery."
She'd guessed that would be his position, and she'd thought about it; she had, in fact, put some subtly pointed questions to Wally. "Then I may be rusticating forever," she said, blinking at fresh tears. "Max sold enough cattle to at least build a house even if it is in the country, but Wally says he doesn't want to deplete the herd further. I can change his mind, of course, but it will take time. More time than I want to spend out there in the middle of nowhere." She let a tear slip down her cheek just as the waiter reappeared. Her father waved the man off with an annoyed gesture. "It's like you warned me, Daddy, ranchers are always short of ready cash. Unless you help, I'll never have a house in town."
"Damn it, Philadelphia . I can't make a banker out of every man who comes down the pike. I would have had to watch Max like a goddamned hawk to make sure he didn't give a loan to every rancher who'd fallen on hard times. Now you're hinting that I should turn Wally into a banker?" He shook his head and then finished his coffee, which had grown cold. "I doubt your new husband would recognize an amortization table if one fell on his face. There's nothing about him that makes me think he's suited for banking."
"I didn't ask you to take Wally into the bank," she murmured, leaving unspoken the words: You said it, not I. "But considering him for a position is an interesting idea. After all, you were willing to offer Max something. And a generous salary would go a long way toward a house in town." The conversation was boringly similar to a previous discussion, only then the subject had been Max. "I have no idea how Wally would take to the idea or if he'd be interested in finance." But she would bring him around as she had done with Max. "Naturally, I wouldn't expect you to act against your better judgment. You'll want to get to know Wally and consider carefully before making an offer. Frankly, I think you'll be surprised. I think Wally might take to banking."
"You are a caution," he said, shaking his head and looking at her across the table. "Sometimes you are so like your mother, may she rest in peace, that it's uncanny."
He referred to her ability to twist him around her little finger, of course. And her relationship with Wally would go the same way. Wally truly believed it was his decision not to claim his husbandly rights until well after the baby arrived. And when the time came he would believe that it was his decision to build a mansion equal to the home she had grown up enjoying. Wally McCord would do and believe whatever she wanted him to do or believe.
When she said nothing more, her father signaled the waiter, then urged her to order more food than she wanted. Unspoken was the admonition that she was now eating for two, but she understood the implication.
Finally she could think of the hated pregnancy without feeling sick inside and wanting to throw herself out a window. She still flogged herself for making a stupid, stupid mistake, and everyone would eventually notice that the dates didn't work out. But when she felt a surge of panic close her throat, she had only to look down at the ring on her left hand and her thoughts grew calmer. Max might have betrayed her, but Wally would not. They were man and wife. He had no choice but to stand by her.
Turning to the window, she watched the cold drizzle slanting across the hotel gardens. At odd moments she found herself thinking about seeing Max again. How would they behave toward each other? What would they say? She wanted him to feel guilty and jealous; it was what he deserved. But she hadn't yet decided how to achieve that goal. She had to take into account that others would be watching and judging their reaction to each other.
"I want him punished," she said softly. The rain reminded her of all the tears she had shed. "He has to pay for what he did." She didn't have to identify whom she meant.
Her father nodded, and his eyes hardened like stones. It didn't matter that she had engineered her own destruction and was more to blame than Max. She didn't see it that way. Max had betrayed her and refused to marry her. He had turned his back in her hour of need. The chain of events that ended with her pregnant and married to Max's brother had begun when Max refused to do as she wished. He should have stayed home in stead of going to the mountains for the summer. Had he done as she'd asked, none of this would have happened. She would not be pregnant. The low creature Max married would have married someone else.
She wanted them both to suffer.
*
Like most western towns, Fort Houser spread outward from Main Street . Modest homes occupied the outskirts of town, while larger and more elaborate homes were found the closer one approached Main Street . Main Street itself was broad enough to easily accommodate two-way traffic, and was cobbled before the bank and the county courthouse. Livvy mentioned there were plans to cobble in front of the post office and town hall come next spring.
Louise, who believed she was not sensitive to such things, noticed that people stopped on the boardwalk to stare as the McCord women drove past on the wagon. She fancied that she drew the most intense attention. "Aren't there any saloons in this town?" A whiskey sounded good right now. Maybe Livvy and Gilly were thinking the same, given the way folks gawked at them.
"The saloons and parlor houses are located about a mile north of town." Livvy kept her gaze firmly forward, but her terse voice indicated her awareness of the interest they attracted. "The Ladies Society has been trying to close them down for years. So far it hasn't happened."
All right, Livvy and Gilly weren't thinking about whiskey. But the idea still sounded good to Louise.
The mature elms shading Main announced to all and sundry that Fort Houser was not a flash in the pan, but an established town worthy of the name. Brick storefronts imparted an impression of age and stability. Church steeples rising above the tree line suggested a settled, organized community. If Philadelphia 's grandfather were still alive, he would have been proud of the town he had founded.
Livvy reined up before the Fort Houser Ladies' Emporium and set the wagon brake. "The first time is the hardest," she said quietly. "Both of you, hold your heads high and remember that you're McCords. Gilly, don't allow anyone to draw you into a discussion about what's happened. Louise, act like a lady and try not to look like a seductress."
"Me?" Her eyebrows soared, but she didn't laugh.
"Don't look hangdog, either. Not too assertive and not too apologetic." Livvy leaned across Gilly to look Louise in the eye. "I've noticed that you either thrust out your chin like you're spoiling for a fight, or you hunch up like you're hoping to disappear."
"I do?" But she knew that was exactly what she did.
"Aim for something in between," Livvy ordered, swinging down out of the wagon, then smoothing her skirts and straightening her hat. "And stick close by. Don't go wandering off."
The warm feeling of family cooled somewhat. Louise doubted Livvy would have thought it necessary to warn Philadelphia to act like a lady, or to tell her how to look, how to behave, and where to stand. Lips pressed together, she swung down from the wagon seat and conducted a quick inventory.
She was wearing one of the ensembles she'd purchased at the seconds shop in Denver . Comparing herself to Livvy and Gilly, she suspected her skirt and jacket were hopelessly out of fashion, but the length of her skirt was approximately correct, and the fit wasn't far off. She was clean and tidy. Her silly ladies' hat was almost the same color as her brown jacket. This morning she had carefully spit-shined her boots and had washed and ironed a fresh hanky.
Her chin came up, and her eyes hardened. Livvy and Gilly might not agree, but she didn't feel her appearance needed apology. She'd done the best she could with what she had to work with.
Gilly pressed her arm and gave her a look of encouragement. "With your hair and eyes, brown is a good choice. Don't you agree, Mama?"
Livvy was pushing at her gloves, studying the gold lettering curving across the emporium's display window. "Mmm. Green and gold would also be good." Sunlight dappled through the elm branches and lit the auburn strands threading the coil on her neck. Livvy McCord was a handsome woman; she must have been a beauty thirty years ago.
