A Matter of Marriage (9 page)

“I
can see your mind working from here, debating about something. What is it?”

“For
a man I barely know, you seem to know me quite well. I don’t think I like
that.”

He
shrugged. “If I knew you really well, I wouldn’t have to ask the question that you
haven’t answered.”

She
lifted her chin. “If you must know, I’m giving your suggestion serious
consideration.”

“Which
suggestion was that?”

“The
one about marrying Tom. He’s an upstanding citizen and keeper of the law. A
marriage to him would not damage my reputation or that of the hotel’s.”

Alex
threw the dime novel onto the coffee table. It slid to a stop next to the
section of broken step. “Then I guess he’s your best bet.”

“Yes,
but I’m worried about his … expectations.”

He
rubbed his jaw without touching his scar. “You mean those ‘intimate relations’
you mentioned at dinner?”

“Yes.
No.” She told herself she wouldn’t blush, but she couldn’t stop it. “Sort of.
I’m terrified of having children.”

His
eyebrows rose, but if he had planned to say anything, the loud knock at the
door silenced him.

“That’ll
be Tom.” Julia hurried to the door.

Alex
rose, slowly and stiffly amidst the creak of leather.

She
opened the door. “Tom, thank you for coming.” He was nearly as tall as Alex. Though
it was half past nine, he still wore his uniform. Not a crease marred the
navy-blue fabric. Gold buttons and a seven-pointed gold star gleamed on his barrel-shaped
chest. “I’m sorry to call you out this late.”

“I
don’t mind.” His usually stern mouth, most of it hidden by a full,
sandy-colored mustache, softened. “It’s good to see you, Julia. I’ve been
wanting to come by. When you telephoned, I was glad to oblige. Any excuse to
see you is a good one.”

She
blinked at him. An attempt on her life was a good excuse to see her? “Uh, come
in, please.”

Tom’s
penetrating blue eyes narrowed as soon as he spied Alex. However, he showed no
reaction to Alex’s scar other than a straightforward perusal.

“Who
are you?” He slapped his gray cowboy hat against his left thigh.

“MacLean.”

Julia
hurried to make the introductions. “Tom, this is Alex MacLean, a … guest.” He
was not her employee yet, so she preferred the marshal view him as someone from
a higher class. Tom would not have approved of her allowing a male employee
into her apartment for anything other than maintenance tasks. “Alex, this is
Marshal Landis.”

He
tipped his head. “Marshal.”

Tom’s
gaze swung between her and Alex, his eyes still narrowed. Then he thrust out
his hand and clasped Alex’s hard enough, she observed, to squeeze the blood out
of it. The marshal always liked people to know who was in charge.

Alex
showed no outward sign of discomfort, and she started to worry for Tom’s hand.
Despite his size, he did not labor with his body the way Alex did.

“I’ve
known Julia since she first came here back in eighty-seven,” Tom said, his grip
unchanging. “How do you know her?”

“We’re
more recent acquaintances.”

She
nodded in agreement, pleased by Alex’s lack of specifics. Tom could take his
response to mean they had known each other for months, or even years, rather
than just a few hours.

“You
have a good grip on you, MacLean.”

“So
have you, Marshal.”

At
an apparent stalemate, they released each other.

Relieved,
she arranged herself on the overstuffed, upholstered chair at the head of the
coffee table. Tom tossed his hat down beside the broken step and took the other
sofa across from Alex. The men faced each other over the low table.

Tom
turned to her. “So what’s this nonsense about someone trying to kill you?”

Alex’s
hands clenched into fists atop his thighs. “Marshal,” he said, before she could
respond, “physical threats have been made against Julia. We expect you to take
them seriously, not consider them ‘nonsense.’”

She
barely breathed even as tears pricked her eyes. No one on Coronado ever
challenged Tom Landis. And no man, not even her father, had ever championed her
like this. Alex had also included her in his statement, speaking as if they
were together, of one mind.

Tom
made no apology. “If there is a threat, I will give it the attention it’s due. Julia,
you were circumspect over the telephone. I need details. Tell me what happened.”

“I’ll
let Alex explain, starting with the flowerpot that was thrown at me. He saw
everything.”

He
described the incident, the unerring aim of whoever had thrown the flowerpot,
and how he had grabbed her, rolling them both out of range.

A
shiver crept up her spine, and Julia wrapped her arms around herself, unsure
whether she was belatedly reacting to those frightening moments or remembering
how it felt to be in Alex’s arms, her body pressed to the length of his.

“But
you never saw who threw it,” Tom said.

“No,”
he answered. “I wish I had.”

“Tom,
Alex saved me from certain injury and possible death. The threat is serious.”

The
marshal pulled at his mustache. “What about this?” He leaned forward and
touched the broken board.

She
motioned for Alex to explain his findings. The marshal would take his opinion
more seriously than hers.

“That
came from an upper-floor service staircase Julia routinely uses at night. The
stair, as you can see, was tampered with. The step gave way under the foot of a
chambermaid, who fortunately wasn’t injured.”

Tom
examined the freshly sawn and painted wood, then dropped the piece back on the
table. “Julia, when are you going to give up this insanity of managing the
Hotel Grand Victoria? It’s not a job for a lady like you. And now it has become
dangerous. You—”

She
raised her hands, palms outward, to stop him, then remembered how much she
needed him. “You may be right, Tom,”—she saw Alex purse his lips—“but you know
how much I love the hotel. It’s my home. I can’t let just anybody take charge
of it. Surely you can understand how I feel.”

He
squinted at her, and his mustache shifted from side to side as his mouth worked
beneath it. “Well, I suppose. It is the only home you’ve known here.”

Alex
abruptly sat forward. “You can keep the damaged step as evidence, Marshal.”

“I
don’t see a need for that. I know where to find it if necessary.”

“Then
how about you make a list of suspects.”

Tom
laughed. “That’d be a long list. Every man who works here, and a few who don’t,
would be on it.”

Julia
did not appreciate his laughter, but she forgave him. He was her best hope for
an instant and upstanding husband.

A
taut stillness came over Alex. “That would put you on the list, too, wouldn’t
it, Marshal?”

Julia
cringed. What was Alex doing?

Tom
grabbed his hat, jammed it onto his head, and stood up. “You saying I’d do harm
to Julia?”

Alex
slowly pushed to his feet. “You obviously don’t want her running the hotel
anymore than Chalmers, the desk clerk, does, and he’s our prime suspect.”

“I
would never hurt Julia, or force her to do something she didn’t want to do. She
means a great deal to me, as she well knows.” He turned to her. “Julia, if
you’d just marry me the way I asked you to last Christmas, all your problems
would be solved. No one would dare hurt my wife.”

On
shaking legs, she rose from her chair and swallowed hard. It was now or never.
“Tom, I would—”

“She’s
already spoken for, Marshal.” Alex strode to her side and linked his hand in
hers.

Afraid
she might be dreaming, she said and did nothing except school her face into an
expression that kept her emotions to herself.

Tom’s
nostrils flared.

“Tomorrow,”
Alex added, “Julia will become Mrs. Alexander MacLean.”

“The
hell she will!” Tom thundered. “I don’t believe it. I’ve heard nothing about
this, and I would have heard.” He thrust his index finger at Alex. “I’ve got
half a mind to put you in jail for lying.”

“Tom,
you will not arrest”—she tasted the next two words on her tongue, liked how
they tasted and spoke them—“my fiancé.” An amazing sense of peace flowed into
her, calming the turmoil that had been her life since the day Mr. Byrnes read
her father’s will to her.

“Julia,
you can’t be serious,” Tom said.

“It’s
true, Tom. The ceremony is tomorrow evening.”

Alex
squeezed her hand. “You’re invited, if you can be civil.”

Tom
sputtered, looking as if he were about to suffer a fit of apoplexy.

Alex
went on. “Once Julia and I are wed, she will continue operating the Hotel Grand
Victoria. I have no intention of interfering in her work unless her safety is
at risk. From you, Marshal, we want your help in discovering the identity of whoever
wants her dead.”

Reminded
of the danger, she shifted closer to him. She needed Alex’s strength, and she
wanted to believe that her future and the hotel’s were no longer in question.

Tom’s
gaze whipped from their joined hands to their faces. “Something’s not right
here. How long have you and he been courting?”

“My
wedding has been planned for some time,” she said. Thankfully, only the Dolans
and her lawyer had known the name of her husband-to-be. If Tom knew she was
going to marry a stranger, he might put
her
in jail just to stop the
proceedings.

“
Our
wedding,” Alex added.

Tom’s
gaze darted between them. “I’m not convinced. Julia, with your father gone,
somebody has to watch over you. Someone like me. And what I’m seeing is you
promising yourself to a man you introduced to me not twenty minutes ago as a
guest, but who looks like he can’t afford a new shirt let alone a room here.
What’s the story?”

She
lifted her chin a notch and gripped Alex’s hand tighter. “I appreciate your
concern for my well-being, Tom, but I don’t have to explain my choice of
husband to you.”

“Marshal,”
Alex said, his eyes narrowed, “we’ll show you out now. You’ll want to get
started on your investigation.” He pulled her with him toward the door and
opened it wide.

Scowling
and grumbling, Tom stomped past them into the hall, then twisted around. “I’ll
start my investigation all right. With you, MacLean. Then we will see what’s
what.”

Alex
shut the door behind the marshal, restraining himself from slamming it. “Overbearing
ass. Give a man a badge and he thinks he can step on whomever he likes. If he
spends all his time investigating me, he’ll end up compromising your safety.”
He might even find what Alex had spent the last three and a half years trying
to put behind him.

“Did
you really mean it?” Julia asked softly.

“Mean
what?”

“That
you’ll marry me.”

“I
wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it, and I think you know that. Your
search is over.”

“But
what about your dream of children and a wife who loves you?”

“I
haven’t given up on any dreams. I won’t be abandoning you after the ceremony.”
He glanced at their linked hands and felt a kind of bond he had never shared
with his wife. “We barely know each other, but I think we have a good chance
together. Certainly better than what you would have had with him.” Alex tilted
his head toward the door. He avoided telling her how his heart had taken flight
when she claimed him as her fiancé.

She
tugged her hand free of his. Acting skittish all of a sudden, she opened the
distance between them. Her behavior didn’t bode well for their wedding night,
or even the ceremonial kiss that would start their marriage off right, showing
everyone in attendance that their vows were real. Alex could hardly wait to
share a kiss with her, one befitting a bride and groom.

“Have
you changed your mind?” He held his breath.

She
plopped herself into the upholstered chair. “No.”

He
breathed again, more relieved than he expected. He truly wanted this marriage.
In this storybook castle of turrets and towers, happily-ever-after seemed
possible. Alex remembered the strange sense of belonging he’d felt upon his
first sight of the hotel, and then again when Julia saw his scar and didn’t
flinch or turn away. Perhaps they had been fated to meet at the very moment when
she needed him.

“But,
Alex,” she continued, “we are virtual strangers. With Tom, at least I knew what
I was getting.”

“Which
is exactly why you didn’t deny my claim to your hand.”

She
slumped deeper in the chair. “You’re very sure of yourself.”

“Am
I wrong?”

“No.”

“Julia,
if we have a chance at a happy future together, then we need to do everything
we can to make our marriage work. If, however, after a suitable time has passed
we discover we are not a good match, I’ll go, leaving you with my name.”

Her
posture straightened. “Really?”

“You
don’t have to look so hopeful.”

“Sorry,
but it is what I’ve wanted from the first.”

“Yes,
well, we’ll see how long that lasts.” Alex looked forward to the challenge of
wooing her.

“What
about the money?” she asked.

“I
won’t accept anything I haven’t earned as a carpenter. I won’t be paid for
being a husband and protector.” He stepped up next to her chair. “So, are we
going to do this?”

“We
need to talk about children.”

“Okay.”
Taking care with his ribs, he eased himself onto one of the sofas. “You said
you’re terrified of having them. I think most women are afraid of childbirth,
but medicine has come a long way in recent years. Doctor Dolan should be able
to appease your fears. Have you talked to him?”

She
shook her head. “Childbirth is not what worries me most.”

“If
you’re afraid you won’t be a good mother, then I think I can quell those fears.
From everything I’ve seen today, you’re a compassionate, caring woman who can
also maintain discipline. I believe you’ll make a wonderful mother when the
time comes.”

Her
breath came out on a shudder. The lamplight glistened on the moisture in her
eyes. “Thank you for your belief in me. When I was a little girl, I dreamed of
having babies of my own. Of course, in my dreams, they were going to be my
playmates. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters.”

He
nearly smiled at her revelation, but an expression of loss moved into her face.

“That
was before I knew about the trials of childbearing.” She scraped a fingernail
over the chair’s padded leather arm. “My parents and I lived in Philadelphia, where my father owned a small but successful hotel and tried to father a son.
I was born, but apparently there were complications. I arrived three weeks early
and was very small. Father said it was because I was too eager to enter this
world. He said I lived because I had a stubborn streak as deep as the ocean.”

Alex
chuckled. “No one can dispute your iron will.”

“I
admit that I can be very determined, which I believe I got from my mother. She did
everything she could to try and give Father the son he wanted, but she
miscarried over and over.” Julia dropped her gaze to the coffee table. “Each
one of those tiny lives lost tore out a piece of her heart. After each loss, Mama
suffered terribly from melancholia. My father ignored the problem while I sat
beside her in bed, trying to be cheerful and make her feel better.” A tear
trickled down Julia’s cheek.

Alex
stifled the urge to wipe it away. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been very hard on
you.”

More
tears leaked from her eyes. She did not look at him. “Even after Father sold
the hotel and moved us to California, Mama kept trying. The worst came when I
was seventeen.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “My baby sister was born,
and she was perfect, but she wasn’t the boy Father had wanted. Mama hated to
disappoint him yet again, but she was thrilled to finally have another child.
She had gone against doctor’s orders to get pregnant again. Not long after my
sister’s birth, Mama died of blood loss.” She sniffed, pressing the heels of
her hands to her face.

Alex
wanted to reach out to her, gather her into his arms, but she seemed at home
suffering by herself. He feared she wouldn’t want his comfort, and saying he
was sorry didn’t seem enough.

“I
felt like a ship that had been wrecked. It was horrible, but I had Lily. I
named her for my mother, Lillian. Father hired a wet nurse, and I helped with
Lily’s care. She was the sweetest thing, so innocent, beautiful, and helpless.
When she was two months old and sleeping in her cradle, I went to check on her.
She … wasn’t breathing,” Julia said raggedly.

Alex
flinched.

“I
screamed and screamed. The doctor said it happened sometimes, babies dying for
no apparent reason.” She finally met his gaze. “Alex, I don’t want to have
children. I can’t feel that kind of pain again. You don’t know what it was
like.”

He
knew exactly what it felt like. He considered telling her about Danny, his wonderful
little boy, but even after more than three years, his wounds were too raw to
bring out of hiding. Perhaps if he had been allowed to attend the funeral
services, his sense of loss would not be so acute when his memories of Danny
surfaced unexpectedly. He told himself he needed to move forward, not back. If
he didn’t think about Danny, he was all right. He wanted children—boys to
wrestle with and girls to show off, all of them racing each other to greet him
on his return home from work. A family would complete him. He could not,
however, disregard Julia’s fears.

“We’ve
both suffered losses,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t have any family left
either. My parents are buried back in Maryland, in the little town where I was
born. They’ve been gone a good while now.”

He
missed them, though. Even worse, Alex felt as if he had let them down. He had
been born late in their married life, and they had spent the rest of that life
working until their backs were bent and their joints stiff, scrimping on
everything to see that he got the education they wanted for him, the education
he had wanted as well.

He
fiddled with a loose button on his suit jacket, thankful his parents hadn’t
lived long enough to witness his downfall and suffer the loss of their only
grandchild.

“What
were your parents like?” Her tears had stopped flowing. “I’d like to know about
them.”

“They
were good people, and they had a good marriage. My father was a carpenter. He
taught me everything he knew, but he always believed I could do more. As a
child, I’d made structures out of wooden blocks and drawn pictures of houses
and buildings on whatever scraps of paper I could find. The wall in my bedroom
worked well, too, until my mother caught me at it one day.”

A
fleeting smile lifted the corners of Julia’s mouth. Alex had to force himself
to look at her eyes instead, which did nothing to lessen his attraction to her.
Her eyes mesmerized him.

“No
wonder you’ve shown such interest in the hotel’s architecture,” she said. “It’s
a shame you didn’t become an architect.”

“I
did become one.” He shrugged at the surprise in her face. “I went to school in Baltimore and ended up staying. I worked there for a number of years, met Elizabeth
Ellingson—the woman who became my wife, and then … lost everything, including
my ability to design. That’s when I took to the road.”

“I’m
sorry,” she said softly. “Was she ill?”

He
stared at the table, trying not to see the flames again. “No, she was … trapped
in a fire.”

Julia
clapped a hand to her mouth, but it didn’t cover her gasp. “Your poor wife! Now
I understand why you became a drifter. Losing her like that must’ve been
devastating.”

Julia
didn’t understand the half of it, but he wasn’t ready to tell her the rest. “I’ve
been tired of drifting for a while now. I want a home. A place where I belong.”

“And
you want a family.” She sighed, a touch of resignation in the sound. “Every man
wants a son. My father never gave up in his quest for one. After my mother
died, he remarried to try again.”

“I
would be honored to have a son or a daughter, but not against your wishes or at
the expense of your life. I’m not like your father.”

She
stared at him and said nothing for a moment, as though she were unable to
speak. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Julia,
there are ways to avoid conceiving a child.”

“Yes.
We can abstain from intimate relations.”

He
swallowed a laugh. “I wasn’t thinking of that one. I’m not a priest.”

She
chewed on her lower lip. It was full and pink and … Alex tore his gaze away
before he could reach out and touch the fullness of that lip.

“I
suppose celibacy would be asking a lot,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “Alex, I give
you my word that I will do my marital duty, but just so there is no confusion,
I wish to keep separate bedrooms.”

Marital
duty? She sounded as though lovemaking was something to endure, not enjoy.
Julia Fairbanks had a lot to learn, and Alex thanked heaven he would be the one
to teach her, starting on their wedding night. She could have her separate
bedroom, but he doubted she’d keep it once he initiated her into the pleasures
of “intimate relations.” Just remembering her fascination with his bare chest
in the doctor’s office made him wish he wouldn’t have to leave her tonight.
Tomorrow night suddenly seemed a long way off.

“Julia,
I will let you in on a secret. Intimate marital relations can be very enjoyable
for both partners.”

Clearly
skeptical, she frowned, two vertical creases appearing above her nose.

He
raised his right hand. “It’s true, and I’ll make a promise to you. In my arms,
you will experience the ultimate satisfaction and enjoyment.”

Her
cheeks flushed. “I suppose we will see about that.” She sounded as if she had
laid down a challenge.

“Yes,
we will.” Alex could hardly wait to meet that challenge. He nearly smiled. “What
time is the ceremony?”

“Six
tomorrow evening. Here.”

“In
this apartment?”

She
nodded. Her hands roved over her skirt, rearranging the satin folds. “For such
a small affair, this room is as good as any.”

“Julia,
a private ceremony is one thing, hiding is another. I won’t marry you in here.”

“But
I want to hide. I’m ashamed and embarrassed about this entire situation. I
don’t want the world”—she motioned toward the door—“to witness my humiliation.”

“I
would rather not be called your ‘humiliation,’ but I understand these
circumstances were forced on you. It’s only natural you’d rather not celebrate
them.” He scooted to the edge of the sofa. “However, a private wedding will
raise questions. If we skulk around and marry on the sly, people are going to
think you’re with child.”

She
groaned. “I can’t have people thinking that. I’d lose all the respect I spent
the last six months struggling to earn.”

“Then
tomorrow you show the world a woman who is getting what she wants. Though I’d
like to imagine I am what you want, I know—for now—it’s the hotel. Your guests
and employees will see a happy bride, just as they would expect. No one will be
the wiser.”

“Except
for the Dolans. I told them the truth today, when I received the telegram from
Phillip.”