"Then it looks like you have two choices: either stay here, or take the old man and the little girl with you." McLeary chuckled as he opened the door and stepped out into the hall.
"No," Lee disagreed, "it looks as if I don't have a choice at all."
"Cheer up," McLeary said, "if your client's a woman, maybe you'll get lucky. Maybe she'll agree to marry you."
"Nope. She's already married…" Lee stopped abruptly and slowly repeated his thought aloud. "Married. Mary. By God, that's it!" He slapped his open palm against his forehead. "Mary Alexander. She's perfect—-beautiful, intelligent, honest, practical, and loyal. Very loyal." Her strong sense of loyalty would work to his advantage. She would understand why he had to accept the terms of Tabby's will—why he couldn't allow little Madeline Gray to grow up in the Methodist Foundling Home.
And she lived in Cheyenne at the Trail T ranch—the place to which he'd been ordered to report. She was part of the family. Lee smiled. Mary Alexander was the sister of one and the first cousin of the other of his closest friends, David Alexander and Reese Jordan. She was a perfect choice. Hell, he and David and Reese were as close as any three men could be. He was practically part of the Jordan-Alexander family himself. Marrying Mary would make it official.
Lee thought back to the first time he met Mary Alexander.
He had known Reese Jordan and David Alexander since the early days of the war, when the three of them had worked as spies for the Union under Allan Pinkerton. He hadn't met David's younger sister, Mary, until the morning he walked into David's law office in Peaceable, Wyoming, and been unexpectedly attacked. It hadn't been funny at the time, but Lee could now smile at the memory of Tessa Roarke swinging a pot of hot coffee at his head while Mary Alexander backed him out the front door of the law office with a loaded two-shot derringer in her hand. Just thinking about that made him grin. Mary—slender, elegant woman that she was—had been able to do what few men had ever accomplished. She had taken him by surprise and gotten the drop on him.
She was the only woman he had ever met who hadn't fallen for his easy charm and Irish blarney. On their first meeting, Lee had stared down the short barrel of her silver pocket pistol and decided death could very easily come in the form of a beautiful woman. At their second meeting, he'd been facing her brother's fists while Mary leaned out a two-story window and loudly encouraged David to break his perfect nose. Lee traced the contours of his mustache with his index finger. And the last time he saw Mary, at David and Tessa's wedding, she had threatened to break his nose herself—or shoot him full of holes—if he didn't watch his wandering hands and quit trying to kiss her every few minutes. And damned if he hadn't thought the pleasure of kissing her might be worth a couple of holes.
Mary Alexander had matched him move for move every time he'd met her. She had enough courage to sustain an army, a fierce love of home and family, an unshakable definition of right and wrong, and an incredible sense of loyalty. As far as Lee was concerned, she had all the immediate qualities he required in a wife: she understood family loyalty and she was available. And she was beautiful.
Very beautiful. Just looking at her set his pulse racing. And the thought of holding, of kissing her… Lee grinned, supremely confident now that he'd made his decision. "Mary will agree with me. She'll understand." Yeah, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Mary was the perfect woman for him to marry. The only woman.
He grabbed McLeary's right hand and began to pump it. "Thanks, Tom. You're a genius." His mind began to whirl with the list of things he needed to do before he reached Cheyenne. "Look McLeary, I hate to impose on you further, but would you please stay with them for a couple of hours while I run some errands'?" Lee hurried to the table and grabbed his hat and coat.
"You're not going to leave us?" Judah asked, an edge of panic in his quavery voice.
"Only for a couple of hours," he answered, "and only if you'll agree to stay here until I get back." He turned to McLeary.
McLeary nodded. "I'll stay for an hour. No longer. Agreed?"
"Okay," Lee agreed. "But if I've only got an hour, you'd better tell me where I can find the nearest jewelry store."
"Jewelry store?"
"Yeah. Since I don't have time to court the 'bride of my choice,'" he quoted Tabby's phrase, "then I sure as hell better have a nice ring in my pocket when I propose."
"Are you going to take us with you when you go?" Judah asked.
"I suppose so," Lee told him, staring at the striped chambray nightshirt Judah wore beneath his waistcoat, wondering what Mary would say when she saw them. "I can't leave you alone here in Denver, any more than I can let that little girl grow up in some damned St. Louis orphanage."
"You're going through with it?" McLeary was amazed.
"What choice do I have?"
"None. You want me to telegraph our friend in Chicago for you?" McLeary offered, carefully referring to William Pinkerton.
"You might as well," Lee said. "He'll find out soon enough anyway."
"What should I tell him?"
"Tell him congratulations are in order. Tell him I'm getting married."
Lee couldn't disguise his sigh of relief as the train rolled to a stop at the station in Cheyenne at seven-thirty the following morning. He stuffed Maddy's doll into the deep pocket of his duster and gently lifted the little girl from her place on the seat beside him back into his arms. During the past few hours, he'd learned quite a bit more than he ever wanted to know about the needs and demands of a two-and-a-half-year-old child and added a couple of very important "Maddy-talk" translations to his vocabulary.
Lee sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. He wasn't thinking straight. He was tired and irritable from an another long train ride and another sleepless night, and his right arm was numb from holding Madeline most of the night. He wanted to hand the little girl to Judah for a while, but one look at the elderly attorney told Lee that Judah was not at his best. Shifting Maddy to his left side, Lee ushered a sleepy, disoriented Judah into the crowded aisle as the passengers began to disembark from the train. A hired porter followed behind them with Lee's leather satchel and the heavy trunk containing Judah and Maddy's belongings.
"Mama," Madeline whined, turning and twisting against Lee's chest.
"Easy now, sweetheart," Lee soothed, "we'll be at the ranch in less than an hour and I promise you a nice big breakfast and plenty of nice ladies to take care of you."
It was a promise Lee couldn't keep. As he drove up the circle drive leading to the two-story log and stone main house of the Trail T, the first thing Lee noticed was the quiet. There were no people about the place: no ranch hands, no children, and no chatter of women going about their chores. Handing the buggy reins to Judah, Lee jumped down from hack, bounded up the stone steps of the front porch, and pounded on the front door. He slipped his hand beneath his duster and rested it against the comforting grip of his Colt. He pulled the gun free of its holster as the front door swung open, then re-holstered it just as quickly. "Ruth," he breathed at the startled Indian woman standing in the doorway. "Thank goodness you're here."