Silver Lining (34 page)

She moved forward until she could feel the heat of his body, then she lifted her face and closed her eyes.

And finally, finally, his warm hard hand curved around her waist for the first time since that terrible night when he had betrayed her.

"No woman should be ignored beneath the mistletoe," Max said smoothly. Deftly, he turned her beneath his hand to face Wally. "Little brother, your wife is awaiting her Christmas kiss."

His hand dropped from her waist, and he moved away. The only thing that softened her fury was recognizing the strain in his voice. He had wanted to kiss her, but he wouldn't risk it in front of his mother and brother.

Stepping forward, Wally bent and brushed chill lips across her cheek before he turned to his mother.

Philadelphia didn't care that he was angry. It served him right. Tossing her curls, she followed Max into the parlor. Immediately she knew she'd made a mistake.

Low Down turned from admiring the tree. "Howdy, Philadelphia . Merry Christmas."

The creature didn't smile, didn't lower her eyelids or nod her head in a partial bow. There was not the slightest hint of deference in her posture or expression. She stood before the Christmas tree with Sunshine at her side and gazed at Philadelphia with bland curiosity, like a cow waiting to be slaughtered.

Well, Philadelphia was happy to oblige.

Lifting a critical eyebrow, she scanned the creature's dress. "Ah, green. The color of envy. It's a difficult color to wear," she explained to Sunshine. "Green makes most people look so sallow and sickly, but you can see that for yourself." She directed a smile of withering pity at Low Down. "Good heavens! What on earth is that awful thing hanging off the back of your head? Something you dug out of the snow in your yard?"

"Actually, it is."

Max started to say something, but Philadelphia cut him off. "How amusing. I wonder what you'll dig out to wear next? Twigs? Dead soggy leaves?" If she hadn't been a refined lady, she would have mentioned horse droppings.

The creature's eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head as if considering a reply. Then her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled down at Sunshine. "Well, let's see. What might I dig out of the yard next? If I found a horseshoe, I could wear it as a bracelet. Or as a tiara. If I found a length of rope, I could trim my cape or maybe use the rope for a belt."

Sunshine laughed in delight. "If you found a dead rabbit, you could make a fur collar."

"I think we should go help your grandma in the kitchen." She extended her hand. "Now, if I found a cow bell, I could wear it as a necklace, and then you would always know where to find me." She paused in front of Max and met his eye before she and Sunshine left the parlor, prattling on about things to be found in a yard.

"You have no quarrel with Louise," Max said quietly. "Leave her alone."

"How gallant of you to defend your Low Down." She spat the name out of her mouth as if it tasted bad.

"Put your anger where it belongs. It's me you despise, not Louise."

It occurred to her that this was the first time since the night before he left for Piney Creek that they had been alone together. This opportunity might not come again soon, and they were wasting it talking about Low Down.

"Oh Max. You know I don't despise you." She lowered her hands to her stomach, deliberately directing his attention to her pregnancy. "If only—" She didn't know what she might have said next if she'd had the chance, but Wally appeared in the doorway.

Wally looked from her to Max. "Dave is waiting for us to sample his punch."

"Excuse me." Max dipped his head to her, then walked out of the parlor.

Wally stared as if he'd eavesdropped on every word she had spoken, then, without speaking, he turned and followed Max.

And there she stood, deserted in an empty parlor while everyone else talked and laughed in the kitchen.

It was so rustic to entertain in the kitchen, for heaven's sake. So crude and low class. And it was so unforgivably rude to abandon a guest. Well, she had intended to allow herself to be persuaded to play the piano tonight, but why should she entertain people who treated her so insultingly? She wouldn't.

Eventually, Livvy announced dinner—ham—and everyone sat down. Not a hint of decorum prevailed.

They laughed about the evening Max had broken his arm, teasing him and Low Down, too. And there was some unseemly tale about a bull getting into Livvy's bunkhouse. Dave and Max exchanged comments about the mustache she had convinced Wally to grow.

Tonight Low Down didn't sit in awkward silence as she had the last time she and Philadelphia were forced to share the same table. The creature chattered as constantly as Sunshine. Her eyes sparkled with pleasure, and her laughter came frequently.

Slowly Philadelphia began to grasp the point Wally had made earlier. Low Down had become a member of the McCord family in a way that Philadelphia had not. The insidious creature was building a shared history, was claiming a role in new family stories.

Throughout supper, Low Down and Gilly chatted easily about sewing and visits back and forth to fit the green taffeta. She teased Dave about some incident involving a broken guitar string. She even told some foolish story about Wally falling off the hay sled that made everyone laugh. As for Livvy, she praised Low Down's pies to the sky and reminded the creature of plans to drive into town after the first of the year.

Shocked and disbelieving, Philadelphia began to realize if there was a belle at this party, it was Low Down.

Too stunned to speak, she sat in resentful silence through the lighting of the tree candles and the dispersing of gifts. To her disgust, she watched Low Down turn teary over a supposedly pretty rock that Sunshine gave her. A rock! Which the creature promised to display on her parlor mantelpiece. How did Max endure this woman? She was an embarrassment.

Low Down's hardened background made any tears suspect. Yet every gift brought a gush to her eyes and a hitch to her voice. It was a clumsy performance, and Philadelphia doubted anyone was deceived.

People didn't weep with joy over a rock or a songbook. The creature didn't even play the piano. But she wiped tears from her eyes and bubbled with appreciation and thank-yous.

When Philadelphia could endure no more of this farce, she pushed her gifts off her lap and stood.

Placing one hand at her waist and raising the other to her temple, she excused herself, "I'm exhausted, and I don't feel well."

Wally silently accompanied her up the staircase to the door of her room. "Can I bring you anything?"

"Nothing. I want to leave early tomorrow."

Her father would have turkey for dinner and a few valued clients as guests. She would serve as hostess, of course. The conversation would be decorous and refined. Later, she would open her gifts in the family parlor and find delights more interesting than a wool scarf and embroidery patterns.

"Do you like the cradle I made for you?" Wally asked.

"Well, the cradle isn't really for me. It's for the baby. But I liked it." Why would he think she'd be excited about a piece of furniture that wasn't even for her? The cradle did, however, explain what he'd been doing in the barn every night until after midnight .

"Thank you for the vests and the shirt studs." Leaning forward, he kissed her on the forehead, his lips warmer and more forgiving than they had been beneath the mistletoe.

She watched him descend the staircase before she went into her bedroom and closed the door. The first thing she saw was the shattered figurine. This was the worst Christmas Eve she'd ever spent.

*

Max gently shook Louise awake. She was dozing on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around the gifts piled in her lap. "We're home."

"Already?" Yawning, she gave her head a drowsy shake.

"It's after midnight ," he said, smiling. "Dawn is going to arrive in an eyeblink."

"And I will turn from a princess to a hay-pitching peasant," she said with a laugh. "Oh Max. I truly did feel like a princess tonight. Tonight was the most wonderful, the most beautiful, the absolute best evening of my life! It's so amazing. I don't think I've received three gifts in my entire life and then in the last few months, I've received a box full. First from the boys at Piney Greek, and then tonight from your family."

Starlight glistened on damp eyes. "Do you think everyone liked the things we gave them?"

"Absolutely. You know, I was wondering… did you receive a gift from me?"

She turned her face toward the house. "I didn't expect anything. Just having tonight is enough. I'll never forget it."

"Well, damn it all. I must have forgotten to take your gift to Ma's." He grinned at the look of surprise she turned on him. "You go on inside where it's warm. I'll put the horses away and be there in a few minutes."

"I could help."

"No need. I managed to hitch them, I think I can un hitch them. It'll just take some time."

"I'll wait. That will give me a chance to look at each gift slowly and think about the person who gave it to me."

"Louise? Thank you for the book and the razor. I always wanted an ivory-handled razor."

Her face lit with delight. "Livvy suggested the razor and when I saw it, I knew you'd like it! And the teacher at the school helped me order the book. She said you'd like that, too!"

"I know I will, I've read Twain before. Stoke up the fire and heat the coffee. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He wouldn't forget tonight, either. Observing her joy had brought an odd ache to his heart unlike anything he remembered experiencing. And he'd glimpsed a reflection of his feelings on the faces of his mother and sister. Even Dave and Wally had smiled with soft eyes at Louise's excitement when she opened her gifts. The McCords had made this a wonderful Christmas for her. His family wasn't the kind who could say straight out that things had changed and that they respected and admired who and what she was. But they could show her—and him—in a hundred small ways. This Christmas had been for her.

When he entered the kitchen, he noticed she had removed the sprig of holly from her hair, but she still wore the green taffeta dress that displayed her splendid figure to lush advantage.

"Would you like something to eat? I saved back one of the mince pies for us."

"Lord, no. I'm so full I won't be able to eat for days."

"Well, then." Her eyes sparkled and danced. Truly, he'd never met anyone with eyes as beautiful or as expressive. "Give me my present."

Laughing, he returned to the mudroom and reached to the highest shelf where he withdrew a flat box from beneath a stack of coats and blankets.

"What can it be?" Sitting down, she took the box and turned it between her fingers, shook it next to her ear, then ran her palms over the top as if she could sense what might be inside.

He brought her a cup of coffee. "Open it. You're making me crazy."

"No, I have to guess what it is. I think it's… an apron. Is that it?"

"Louise, open the box."

Finally, she lifted one corner and peeked inside, then burst into laughter. "It's a nightgown!"

"A skinny nightgown," he said, grinning with pleasure.

"A beautiful nightgown," she whispered. Standing, she shook it out and held it against her body. "There's real lace around the neck and the cuffs! Did you see that?"

"I saw it," he said, laughing. "Now sit down again because we're going to have a little ceremony."

Going back to the mudroom, he withdrew the cursed nightgown from its hiding place and carried it back to the kitchen.

"I'll make rags out of the material," Louise said.

"I'm not taking any chances that this thing will turn up in my bed ever again." He opened the lid of the firebox and stuffed the cursed nightgown inside. And stuffed and stuffed, making it appear more bulky and more unwieldy than it was until she was laughing and cheering for him to win the battle.

"And now," he said after replacing the lid over the burning nightgown. "A toast." He raised his coffee cup and so did she. "Out with the old nightgown and in with the new!" He saw her gazing back at him with soft, shining eyes. "But not tonight," he added in a husky voice.

"No," she whispered. "Not tonight."

She came to him and wound her arms around his neck. Tonight there was no Philadelphia , no baby, no guilt or feelings of betrayal. Tonight was enchanted, a night set apart from the life they would return to in a few short hours. Tonight was theirs alone, a night for joy and tenderness and the greatest gift of all, the giving of themselves.

«^»

"
T
he people you're harming most are my wife and my family."

"Now you know how it feels to stand by and watch someone you love suffer."

Max stood before Houser's massive cherry wood desk, gripping his hat in his hand. If the only person being hurt had been himself, nothing on earth could have made him ride in to the bank and humble himself in front of Howard Houser.

But it was Louise out there in the dark cold and blowing snow every morning and every evening. Louise staying up all night with half-frozen beeves. Louise, so exhausted she staggered. One night shortly after the new year, she had fallen asleep at the supper table.

And it was Dave, leaving his own ranch and family to help out. Wally, giving up his evenings to work in the ice and cold.

"What will it take to end this? What do you want from me? Whatever it is …"He swallowed his pride.

"I'll do it."

Howard leaned back in his chair and smiled, noting the sling across Max's chest.

"It doesn't end until you're ruined. It doesn't matter if you get those cattle through the winter because I can guarantee you won't find a buyer come spring. And without a buyer, you won't have funds to retire your mortgage. You'll lose your ranch in June. The first thing I plan to do after foreclosing is burn your house and barn to the ground."

Slowly, Max nodded his head. This was what he had expected from Houser, but he'd had to give it a try for the sake of Louise and his family.

"Just so you understand, McCord. In retrospect, I don't entirely fault you for marrying that woman. I don't agree with the choice to put yourself in the drawing, but I understand why you thought you had to do it. I'm going to destroy you because you seduced an innocent young woman and ruined her life. You tarnished her name and placed her at the center of a scandal.