***
“Miss McKenzie?” Biddie called, tapping on McKenzie’s bedroom door. “Miss Pearl is here to see you.”
“Thank you, Biddie. Tell Pearl I’ll meet her in the parlor. Would you please have Nellie prepare us some tea?”
“Yes, miss,” Biddie said.
McKenzie set down the novel she’d been reading, left her room, and walked down the winding staircase to the parlor. Pearl was seated on the blue sofa, wringing her hands. “Pearl? What a pleasant surprise!”
Pearl practically jumped to her feet at the sight of McKenzie. “McKenzie! I need to talk to you.”
“Surely, we can have some tea first. Nellie will be right in.”
“Oh, I really haven’t the time for tea. I need to talk to you now—it’s important.”
McKenzie looked intently at Pearl. Why was she acting so peculiarly? They always had tea when she came for a visit. And why did she seem so nervous and agitated? They’d been friends for eighteen years. Surely, nothing had arisen to cause dissension between them. McKenzie searched her memory. Had she said something to offend her best friend? Had she done something to hurt Pearl’s feelings? She was very sensitive.
Pearl reached out and took McKenzie’s hands in her own. That was when McKenzie saw the large, diamond ring on her left ring finger. Don’t let yourself jump to conclusions, McKenzie chided herself silently. She had a habit of thinking the worst in situations.
“McKenzie, it’s about Louis,” Pearl told her.
“Yes?” McKenzie asked. “Is he all right?”
“Yes, yes, he’s quite all right. You see, McKenzie….” Pearl gulped.
“What is it, Pearl?”
“Louis—Louis asked me to marry him last night.”
McKenzie felt as though someone had hit her hard in the stomach and knocked the air out of her lungs. “What did you say?” she asked. Perhaps, she’d misunderstood her friend.
“I know that you have always fancied Louis, McKenzie, but, the fact is, he’s been in love with me for years. Last night, he took me to dinner—and proposed to me.” Pearl pulled her left hand away from McKenzie’s and meekly splayed her fingers, displaying her glittery ring right under McKenzie’s nose.
McKenzie let go of Pearl’s other hand and narrowed her eyes. “How could you, Pearl?” she asked.
“McKenzie, please, keep your voice down.”
“I will not keep my voice down. Do you realize how badly you have hurt me?”
“I’m so sorry, McKenzie. I never meant for this to happen. You have to realize, though, that you and Louis weren’t courting. You hadn’t been courting since we were in finishing school, and that was for only a short while. Louis and I have been courting for a month now, and he told me he’s always loved me.”
“Pearl, you knew I loved him—I told you all my secrets. I told you all my hopes and dreams for our future. How could you steal him away from me like this?”
“I didn’t steal him from you, McKenzie. He was never yours to begin with. Oh, how I wish you would be happy for me, so we could celebrate together!”
“Happy for you? You are—sorry, were—my best friend. We did everything together. We told each other our deepest, darkest secrets. You know me better than anyone, except Kaydie. Did you decide that our friendship mean nothing to you when you accepted Louis’s proposal?”
“No, of course not—your friendship means so much to me, McKenzie. I was hoping that we could remain best friends. I would be esteemed if you would be my maid of honor at the wedding.”
Was she crazy? “Most certainly not. I could not be your maid of honor now, not after what you did. I love him, Pearl.”
“As do I.” Pearl narrowed her beady, gray eyes. “I have loved him just as long as you have, if not longer. We have so many dreams for the future—dreams that you and he never could have had.”
“How do you know?”
“Please, McKenzie, take no offense, as I mean this in the kindest of ways. Louis and I are better suited for each other. I am calm, abiding, and pleasant; you are rather loud, and you always want to have your own way. Louis needs a wife who will listen to him when he comes home after a long day at the clinic. You would only offer unwanted advice and argue with him at every turn.”
“I can’t believe I am hearing this,” said McKenzie. Her anger had reached its height, and she found it difficult to resist giving Pearl a shove. As it was, she determined to push Pearl out of her life forever.
“You need to believe it. Besides, I thought it would be better coming from me than if you were to hear it at some tea party or from your sister, Peyton. News travels fast in our social circles, McKenzie. I think I should at least be thanked for having had the decency to tell you, myself. It wasn’t easy for me to do this.”
“I’ll have you know, it isn’t easy being on the receiving end of such a cruel betrayal. I trusted you, Pearl. I trusted Louis. I’ll not trust either of you ever again.”
“It wasn’t a betrayal, McKenzie. Louis wasn’t courting you. He was free to marry whomever he wanted. He wasn’t yours.”
“Please leave, Pearl. I’ve heard more than enough.”
“Here’s your tea, miss,” Nellie said, bustling into the parlor.
“Thank you, Nellie, but we no longer need it. Pearl was just leaving.” McKenzie narrowed her eyes at Pearl, as if to dare her to do otherwise.
“Please, come to the wedding, even if you’re still angry with both of us,” Pearl implored her. “I’ll send an announcement in the coming weeks.”
“I will not attend your wedding, and that is a promise,” said McKenzie, aware that her voice was loud enough to carry into the kitchen and beyond. “Good-bye, Pearl.”
“Good-bye, McKenzie,” Pearl said, then turned and left the parlor.
McKenzie had kept her word. She hadn’t attended the wedding, and she hadn’t seen Louis or Pearl, except from a distance, since the day Pearl had brought her the news of their engagement. Louis and Pearl had exchanged wedding vows; meanwhile, McKenzie had made a vow never to trust another man with her heart, and never to have another best friend—with the exception of Kaydie, of course. The stakes were too high.
***
“Miss? Miss, are you all right?”
The voice of another passenger in the stagecoach shook McKenzie out of her reverie.
“I beg your pardon?” McKenzie said.
“You were crying, and I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
McKenzie studied the woman speaking to her. She was a motherly sort, and her face held concern for McKenzie’s welfare. McKenzie reached inside her carpetbag for a handkerchief and blew her nose. “I’m fine. Thank you so much for asking,” she told the woman.
“Are you returning home for a mournful occasion?” the woman asked.
“No, I’m actually going to a small town in the Montana Territory to get married.”
The woman looked shocked. “Is that why you were crying?” she asked.
McKenzie attempted a laugh in the midst of her tears. “Oh, my, no,” she said. “I was simply saddened by a memory of the past.”
“Thank the good Lord for that,” said the woman. “Nothing could be worse than crying at an upcoming marriage—unless, of course, you’re crying tears of joy.”
McKenzie nodded. “Thank you again for your concern. I’m sorry if my sobs were a bother.”
“They were nothing of the sort,” the woman assured her. She smiled and leaned forward to pat McKenzie’s arm. “Congratulations, dear, and may your marriage be one grounded in faith in the Lord and filled with happiness for many, many years to come.”
“Thank you,” McKenzie said, suddenly disbelieving that, by this time tomorrow, she would be a married woman—but not for the reasons most women chose to become wives. She would be celebrating the successful avoidance of spinsterhood, and yet her marriage would be peculiar in its being temporary, with an end that would come before it truly began.
Still, the thought of meeting Zach filled McKenzie with nervous anticipation. What would he think of her? Would he find her worthy of marrying him? She hadn’t sent him a photograph. Surely, he would find her attractive. Most men she knew did. Why, then, should he be any different? Still, she felt a wave of insecurity rise within her at the thought. A more worrisome question remained: Would she find him attractive? Although the marriage would be annulled once she returned to Boston, she wouldn’t want anyone to find out she’d married a homely man, even if it had been for a practical reason and for a short time.
McKenzie sighed. She would be living with a man she didn’t know and relying on him to assist her in locating her sister. Of course, she would wait until the time was right to ask him for his aid. Pretending to be in love with him and marrying him would be an interesting task, but McKenzie knew she could use her creative imagination to her benefit.
Yes, McKenzie had had moments of success with manipulation, but this particular task would stretch her beyond anything she had ever accomplished. If Zach hadn’t changed his mind and still wanted to marry her tomorrow, she would not only have a place to stay while searching for Kaydie, but she’d also have Zach’s help in rescuing Kaydie from a man who would never let her go without a fight.
Kaydie’s plight continued to haunt McKenzie’s mind. Unfortunately for Zach and Davey Sawyer, it was imperative that McKenzie succeed in carrying out her plan. She couldn’t afford to worry about whom she had to mislead and manipulate in order to execute that plan. Kaydie’s life depended on its success, and that was all that mattered.
Zach watched as the passengers stepped off of the stagecoach one by one, and his eyes alit on a woman who looked to be by herself—McKenzie? She looked nowhere near how he had expected her to, not that he’d really known what to expect. A part of him was grateful that she wasn’t as hard on the eyes as he had once dreaded—not that outer appearances mattered, he reminded himself. He moved away from the building he’d been leaning against, his nerves on edge.
What if she didn’t like him? Forever was a long time to be married to someone who didn’t care much for you. What if she didn’t like Pine Haven, with its dusty, dirty streets and primitive, wooden buildings?
Another thought disturbed Zach: What if McKenzie changed her mind and boarded the stagecoach tomorrow to leave as quickly as she had arrived?
Zach wanted to approach her, but something kept his feet still. His knees shook, and he hoped that no one else would notice his nervousness at meeting the woman to whom he was ready to commit the rest of his life.
Zach noticed that a crowd had gathered, as it always did whenever the stagecoach arrived, and McKenzie herself had attracted the attention of quite a few onlookers. Not that he was surprised. From where he was standing, he could see that McKenzie was beautiful, even if she did look completely out of place. She stood out as a member of high society in a town where every other woman wore plain calico and shirked fancy frills.
McKenzie’s face was partially hidden by a large, embellished hat, and on her hands—such slender fingers—were white, lacy gloves. Her blondish hair cascaded down her back in ringlets, and her tall, lean figure was accentuated by her flowered velvet dress, complete with an exaggerated bustle. A string of tiny pearls encompassed her slim neck, and a lace collar fringed the top of her dress.
“Would you please gather my belongings?” he heard McKenzie ask one of the stagecoach drivers.
“Yes, ma’am,” the driver replied. He retrieved two trunks from the top of the stagecoach and then reached inside, grunted, and carried out two more. Never had Zach seen someone travel with so much luggage! She must be fixing to stay awhile, he thought to himself. Either that, or she’s fixing to open up her own shop—she must have room for fifty dresses in those trunks!
Zach finally urged his feet to move from their stalled position and made his way toward McKenzie. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel unwelcome in her new home. This was no time to be his habitually shy self. He’d prayed for bravery and for the words to speak from a mouth that usually said little, especially to people he didn’t know. He hoped God would answer those prayers, and that the impression he made on his future bride would be positive. Zach straightened his shirt and stretched his shoulders in an upward, circular motion to loosen up the tension in his neck. “McKenzie?” he said. When she turned around, he extended his hand. “I’m Zach Sawyer.”
McKenzie fixed her eyes on Zach—first his face, then his clothing, then his outstretched hand. He hoped she wasn’t afraid that he’d soil her gloves with his rough, work-worn hands. She smiled and slowly reached her right hand toward his, her fingers slightly curled under, and curtsied. “McKenzie Worthington,” she said.
Zach gently took her hand in his. He hoped she knew that he was offering not merely a handshake, but also support, should she need it. Last week, he’d pored over The Gentleman’s Guide to Manners, which he’d found at Granger’s Mercantile. The book explained in detail how a gentleman should conduct himself in the presence of a woman. Zach remembered how Lucille had taken such joy in helping him locate the book, and it was a good thing he’d read it. He didn’t want McKenzie to find him completely uncivilized. He had, after all, spent the first twelve years of his life in a city, and so he knew something of the ways of city life, even if he was fourteen years removed from that experience.
***
Well, this isn’t awkward or anything, McKenzie thought, standing there staring at the man she would marry tomorrow. Surely, Zach felt just as bewildered, looking at her.
Finally, Zach cleared his throat. “I’ll load your things into the wagon,” he offered.
“Thank you,” McKenzie said. At least he’s an attractive man, she remarked to herself as she watched him load her trunks, one by one, into the back of his wagon. She’d been concerned that he might look older than his twenty-six years—balding, perhaps, or having a thick, shaggy beard. No—as far as his appearance went, McKenzie couldn’t have been more pleased. His nearly black hair appeared clean, and his blue eyes held a kindness in them she’d not seen in any man before. Zach had broad shoulders and a lean, strong-looking body; he was probably about six feet tall, which was good for McKenzie, nearly five feet eight inches, herself. A brief realization that Louis Clarence’s handsome looks paled in comparison with those of Zachary Sawyer entered her mind, but she quickly pushed it aside.