"You're older than me."
"I am not!"
"Prove it," he challenged.
"May tenth," Mary told him. "In the year of our lord eighteen hundred and forty…"
"Yes?" He cocked his right eyebrow.
"Four," Mary ground out.
Lee choked back a laugh. "That makes you twenty-nine."
"Twenty-eight," she corrected. "I won't be twenty-nine until May tenth."
"Which is what? Two weeks away?" He glanced at Mary's rigid posture. "At least that explains it."
"What?" she demanded.
"Pelham Everhardt Cosgrove III." Lee met her dark-eyed gaze. "Now I know why you were in such a rush to marry him."
"I wasn't in a rush to marry him. He was in a rush to marry me. But you're never going to stop reminding me about Pelham, are you?" Mary asked. "You're never going to let me forget that he left me standing at the altar—that he never gave me the opportunity to explain." They wouldn't be able to build much of a marriage if Lee kept reminding her of her public humiliation for the next thirty or forty years.
"I'm not throwing Cosgrove in your face," Lee said.
"Really?"
"Really. I just wondered why you chose a tenderfoot like him when it was obvious to everyone in town that he could never be the kind of husband you need."
"Such as?" Mary was prepared to do battle.
But Lee Kincaid surprised her with his answer. "A man strong enough to let you be yourself. A man who wouldn't try to mold you into something you're not or force you to deny what you are."
"He couldn't force me to do anything."
"No," Lee agreed, "Maybe you're right. He was too weak to force you. Maybe he simply planned to wear you down over the next few years until you became what he wanted his wife to be."
"And what do you think he wanted me to become?" Mary couldn't contain her curiosity.
"A very pale imitation of the woman you already are. He didn't appreciate you, Mary, and because he didn't appreciate you, Cosgrove could never be the husband you deserve."
His answer took her breath away. "What about you, Liam Gordon Maclntyre Kincaid?" She wiggled closer to him on the hard bench.
Lee recognized the look in her dark eyes and wanted very much to kiss her. Wanted to prove what kind of husband he could be, but he didn't. "Me?" he asked, all innocence once again. "I'm your temporary husband, ma'am. Until you find someone better."
Ma
ry wondered suddenly how he could possibly think someone better would ever come along.
"But I promise you something, Mary," Lee continued.
"What's that?" she asked breathlessly.
"I'll kill the next man who makes you cry," he solemnly swore.
Mary squeezed her eyes shut and rested her chin on the top of Maddy's head, turning her face to hide the tears welling up in her eyes lest Lee see her crying and feel compelled to join the long line of suicides petitioning Saint Peter for the opportunity to pass through the pearly gates.
* * *