Chapter Thirty-Five
It was close to suppertime when Walker finished up in the barn. Diamond’s filly was a rare jewel; she was dark and tall like her mother, but had the markings and spirit of her father.
Mother nickered quietly to her baby, and the filly responded by starting to nurse. The sight calmed Walker. He was going to be a papa. Would the child have Sarah’s features and be delicate and winsome? Or stubborn like his pa?
His thoughts skipped back to the day the mare gave birth. She had managed to wait until nearly full term, and Sarah had been like a young schoolgirl, hanging over the stall railing, urging Diamond to bring the filly into the world.
“Come on, girl. It’s time. You can do it!”
Walker recalled grinning as Sarah panted, trying to help. Later, she collapsed on a bale of hay, exhausted as if she’d been the proud mother. He’d covered her with a blanket and let her doze as he cleaned up.
After tossing hay into the other stalls, Walker exited the barn, his gaze drawn to a buggy sitting in front of the house. Company? Who would be visiting at this hour?
When he came in the back door, Flo put a finger to her lips, her eyes motioning to the study. “Lowell Livingston is here.”
He continued through the kitchen and into the hall, pausing in front of the study door. Then he turned the doorknob and entered the room.
Two pairs of eyes focused on him as he removed his hat. The older man extended his hand.
“You must be Walker McKay. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lowell Livingston, Sarah’s father.” He shook Walker’s hand. “Mr. McKay, I was wondering if I might have a word with you alone.”
Walker’s gaze traveled to Sarah. For a long moment their gazes locked. “Of course.”
Sarah eased past him and Walker closed the door behind her. The setting sun threw the room into partial shadow, so he lit a lamp. Sitting down at his desk, he motioned for Livingston to take a chair opposite him.
“I must apologize for my daughter’s behavior. I can only say that I deeply regret any inconvenience Sarah might have caused. I realize an apology is weak in view of the circumstances, but I can assure you, Mr. McKay, Sarah and I find the whole episode highly regrettable.”
Walker removed his hat and laid it on the desk. “My name is Walker.”
“Please call me Lowell.” The older man smiled and Walker saw a strong resemblance between him and his daughter. The same eye shape, the dimple that flashed when they smiled. “By now you’re aware that my daughter has a stubborn streak the likes of which few have ever witnessed. But she’s a good girl, Walker. Forgive the blindness of a doting father, but she has a giving heart.”
Lowell rubbed his hands together, forming his words carefully. “I’m afraid after her mother died I indulged Sarah more than I should have. I accept full responsibility for her behavior. We argued fiercely the night she ran away. I’ve wished a thousand times I had been more patient with her—tried to understand this need she has for a family of her own. But I wasn’t, and the last two and a half months have been extremely difficult. I’ve been worried sick about her, and when Miss Mallory wired, informing us of Sarah’s location, I can’t tell you how relieved I was to know where she was. I came immediately.”
“Lucy wired you?” Walker forced back a spurt of anger. Sarah had befriended her and this was the thanks she got.
“I’ve had Pinkerton’s detectives looking for my daughter for weeks.”
Walker leaned forward, opening the cigar humidor and offering Lowell one. The older man declined. Sarah’s father looked as if he hadn’t slept much lately. Walker sympathized with him. He hadn’t been doing a whole lot of sleeping himself.
“I’m sorry, Lowell. If I had known, I would have sent word of her whereabouts.”
“I don’t hold you responsible, Walker. On the contrary, I’m deeply indebted to you for looking after her.”
Walker struck a match, meeting his gaze. “It was not an imposition.”
“Yes. She tells me that she’s never been happier,” Lowell paused, clearing his throat. “We will be leaving for Boston immediately.”
Walker’s heart skipped a beat as he touched the match to the tip of his cigar. “Leaving?”
“Yes. Sarah is packing as we speak. Again, I hope that in time you will be able to forgive her. She isn’t mean-spirited, Walker, only misguided and impetuous. Wadsy, her nanny, says she’ll outgrow it. I hope I live to see the day.”
Walker rose from his desk. “Did she tell you she’s expecting my child?”
Lowell paused. “Then you know about the baby. She thinks that you don’t.”
Walker moved to stare out the window. “I didn’t, not until a few hours ago. My foreman let it slip in an unguarded moment.”
Lowell leaned forward. “I’m a man of great means. The child will want for nothing. You needn’t worry about its welfare. It will be raised in a Christian home, and nothing will be spared for its care.”
“Its welfare?” Walker repeated, closing his eyes. The situation had come to this? His child was an “it”? Something to be discussed in whispered innuendos, with a sense of shame?
“Sarah’s baby,” Lowell corrected himself. “My grandchild.”
Walker rubbed a hand across his face. “My son or daughter.”
“Yes, but under the circumstances I don’t hold you responsible for events beyond your control. I understand your hesitancy about letting the child go. Any man worth his salt would struggle with the dilemma, but let me assure you, we are open to an amicable agreement. Once the child is born, you will be allowed visitation rights, if you so desire.”
“That’s not acceptable.”
Lowell shifted in the chair, his eyes focusing on Walker. “Do you have a better suggestion? If it’s a matter of money, I have more than—”
“Money has nothing to do with it.” Walker met his gaze. “The child is mine as much as Sarah’s. My blood runs through his or her veins.”
Lowell shook his head, uncertainty filling his eyes. “Then what do you propose?”
“Sarah stays here.”
Color flushed the older man’s cheeks.
“That is out of the question. I won’t permit it. I will not have my daughter in a loveless marriage, McKay. Sarah worships you. If I were to agree to such a marriage, she would inevitably end up hurt, and I will not allow that.”
“Shouldn’t the good Lord and Sarah be the keeper of her future?”
“Sarah isn’t thinking clearly. She would jump at the chance to stay. But once the child was born, she would be forced to live with a man who doesn’t love her.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Do you?”
Sarah burst through the doorway, her fists clenched. Startled, Walker and Lowell turned to face her.
“How dare you bargain over me like some…some…broodmare? It’s my child and I’ll make the decision of whether to stay or go!”
“Sarah,” Lowell chided, “we’re only trying to do what’s best for you and the child—”
“You’re not doing what’s best for either of us, Father. I’ve made my decision.”
She addressed Walker. “I’ll have our child in Boston, and the boy or girl will be delivered to you within a month after the birth.”
“And then what?”
“I’ll remain in to Boston and resume life at my father’s house.”
Her sudden strength surprised him. “You’d be willing to relinquish all claim to the child?”
Sarah bit her lip. “The baby is your heir, Walker, as you wanted all along. I’ll lay no claim to it. When he or she grows up, you can tell him or her that I didn’t survive the birth.”
Lowell interrupted. “Sarah, you’re talking nonsense! This child is part Livingston and the heir to the railroad. I’ll not hear of you giving our flesh and blood away.”
Ignoring her father, Sarah held Walker’s gaze. “Is that acceptable to you, Mr. McKay?”
“You are willing to abandon your child?”
“I am capable of keeping my word. Maybe I lied in the beginning, but I knew what I was agreeing to: to provide you with a child.” Her hand moved to her stomach and his eyes followed. “This is your baby, Walker. I will carry it, nourish it with my body, and deliver it safely into your arms.”
Lowell sprang to his feet. “You propose to carry that child beneath your heart for nine months and then walk away? You have no idea what you’re saying, Sarah. That child is part of you—part of me.”
“And part of me,” Walker reminded him.
Sarah squared her shoulders. “Do you accept my proposal?”
“Don’t be foolish, Sarah. I’ve told your father that I’m willing to let you stay.”
She lifted her chin. “I heard. My heart nearly stopped, knowing that you’re ‘willing’ to have me around.” She met his gaze defiantly. “But I am unwilling to stay.”
Their eyes clashed.
“That’s nonsense. My child will not be born away from Spring Grass.”
“If you want this child, it will be.”
“Sarah—”
“Papa is right. I won’t live in a loveless marriage.” Her bottom lip quivered. “I’m fully aware of how difficult it will be to leave my baby, but the child is yours.”
He shrugged. “You have a deal—with one exception. You remain here at Spring Grass until the child is born. I don’t want you hightailing off somewhere where I can’t find you or the baby.”
“Fine. I’ll stay, but not of my own accord.”
“Then we have a deal.” They shook hands.
Lowell shook his head. “I have never in my life witnessed anything this disgraceful.”
“Well, now you have, Papa.” Sarah gathered up her skirts. “May God forgive us both. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going upstairs to lie down. I’m not feeling well.”
“Walker, if you’ll excuse us for a moment, I want to speak to my daughter in private.” Lowell started to follow Sarah out.
Walker nodded.
“Sarah!” Lowell caught his daughter at the bottom of the stairs. “You can’t mean this.”
“I do, Papa. It’s Walker’s child. That was the bargain.”
“But it’s yours too. Where is your faith? God doesn’t send innocent children into the world to be bartered over. You could never live with yourself if you determined your child’s future in a moment of anger.”
Her hand moved to cover her stomach. “This child is part of Walker, Papa. Don’t you know how difficult this is for me? Of course I love this baby more than my own life, but God also expects us to be trustworthy, and when we give our word we are to honor it. Isn’t that what you’ve always taught me?”
“I never thought honor would lead to so great a sacrifice.”
A few moments later, Lowell returned to the study, drying his eyes.
“Sarah will remain here with you.” He reached for Walker’s hand. “Take good care of her, son. She means the world to me. And if the child ever needs anything…”
Getting up from the desk, Walker ran a hand over his face. He couldn’t send the man away thinking he was allowing Sarah to stay only out of a sense of obligation to his child. It went much deeper than that.
“Lowell?”
“Yes, son?”
The two men faced each other, both loving the same woman yet in a different way.
“I’ll see that she’ll want for nothing.”
Lowell’s shoulders slumped. “If you should need anything—if there’s anything I can do…”
“I have money to buy her whatever she wants. What I don’t have,” he said quietly, “is the ability to change her mind.”