Page 14 of Silver Lining
When he returned to the fire, she glanced up at him and offered in a hesitant voice, "Would you like to see something pretty? It might make you feel better."
"What?" Frowning, he blinked down at her as if he'd forgotten about her until she spoke.
"Look." Holding out the spoon, she turned it between her fingers, delighted by the way the firelight reflected in the bowl as if she held a spoonful of fire. "Isn't it lovely?"
"It's just a spoon," he said without interest. Continuing past the campfire, he sat down on his bedroll and tugged at his boots.
Face flaming, Low Down hastily shoved the spoon into her pocket, then busied herself setting up the coffeepot for morning. How could she have been so stupid? He'd probably grown up eating off silver spoons. A silly old spoon wouldn't be anything pretty or wonderful to him.
"Max?" she called none too quietly once she was settled inside her own bedroll. "Are you asleep yet?"
His name felt awkward on her tongue and entirely too familiar. But calling him Mr. McCord wouldn't have felt right, either.
"What is it?"
"I don't want to do this," she said, peering up at the stars. They were too different, too far apart in every way. "I think we should part company right now and go our separate ways. I don't want to meet your family; they won't like me. I don't want to live in another woman's house. I don't want to be married to you, and you don't want to be married to me."
"Don't you understand? It's too late."
"What if I just rode away? You could tell your family that I ran out on you."
"We'd still be married. Miss Houser and her father would still detest me. I'd be a shirker in the eyes of the men who trust me to repay you for saving our lives. They expect one good thing to result from this disaster." A long silence ensued. "If you really want to run off, I can't stop you. But when I step back from the personal consequences, I can say that you deserve the baby you want."
He'd surprised her again. On the other hand, considering his prickly feelings about duty and honor, she supposed she could understand why giving her a baby was important to him. He had said he would, and he'd made a commitment to the other men to see this through no matter what.
"You were right about me blaming you," he added, talking to the black sky the same as she was doing.
"I agree that has to stop. While we're married we should at least treat each other cordially."
"I'm not a very cordial type," she admitted, thinking it over. A person who strewed roses usually stepped on thorns. She'd learned that lesson years ago. It was better to let people know right fast that she gave as good as she got. This wasn't exactly a cordial attitude.
"I've noticed. And right now you have no reason to believe that I'm cordial, either. But I think we'll get through this easier if we treat each other politely."
"What I know about polite wouldn't stuff a thimble."
His silhouette was just visible on the far side of the embers, arms crossed behind his head, his nose pointed toward the stars.
Low Down didn't speak again. Neither did she fall immediately asleep. Lying on her side, she watched the embers fade from orange to ashy and castigated herself for being so fricking wishy-washy. It was disgusting.
How many times had she insisted that it wasn't a real marriage or that she didn't want to be married, or suggested that he ride away or she ride away? And then at a word from him, she spun herself around and was suddenly willing to give this stupid tragic marriage a try? He must think her convictions lasted all of two minutes. She was beginning to think so, too.
Wrenching over on her stomach, she yanked the blanket up to her shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut. But her thoughts wouldn't settle down.
Just once in her life, she wished a man's voice would soften toward her as Max's voice softened when he spoke Philadelphia Houser's name. Well, it didn't matter. A person couldn't really miss what she'd never had.
She focused her restless thoughts on the baby. That's what kept her from riding away as everything sensible urged her to do. A baby. Her very own family to love. To have a baby, she'd put up with almost anything. Even a husband.
CHAPTER4
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Max's state of mind dropped as rapidly as the altitude. All the way down the mountains, he rehearsed what he would say to Philadelphia and her father, testing one approach after another. No matter how he arranged the words, the end result was mortifying.
He had ruined Philadelphia and discarded her. That's what she would hear. Howard Houser would hear that his daughter had been humiliated and shamed at the brink of the altar, and further that Max had spit on the job at Houser's bank. Houser might not shoot him on the spot, but there would be retribution.
Until today, Max hadn't allowed himself to accept that he had ruined Philadelphia . Now a beautiful memory ate at his mind like acid, and what had seemed so right at the time was unforgivable.
He hadn't planned to take advantage, had later been shocked that emotions had escalated to such a high peak during the last night before he departed for Piney Creek. Neither he nor Philadelphia were the type of people to disregard honor or convention, yet it had happened.
