"That just goes to show how much you know." Mary gave a derisive, unladylike snort. "Name one."
Lee sucked in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. "Me."
Mary plopped down on the sofa, lifted her wedding veil, and stared at him. "Tell me this is your idea of a joke."
"I'm afraid not."
"You mean to tell me you hurried to Cheyenne from God knows where to keep me from marrying Pelham?" Her tone of voice made it perfectly clear to Lee that she didn't believe a word of what he'd said.
Lee would have mixed the truth with a few well chosen sugar-coated lies for any other woman, but he knew that wouldn't work with Mary. She had an uncanny ability to see through his blarney, and he respected that ability enough not to lie to her. "I didn't know anything about Pelham Cosgrove III. I rushed here from Chicago to Denver to Cheyenne"—he didn't think it would hurt to let her know how far he had traveled on her behalf—"because I happen to be in the market for a wife."
Mary raised her eyebrow in a gesture identical to her brother, David's. "I don't believe you."
"I came here to ask you to marry me." He raised his right hand. "I swear it."
"Be careful that God doesn't strike you dead, Lee," she warned. "Remember where you are."
"God doesn't strike men down for telling the truth."
He had the angelic, innocent look of a choirboy on his face and Mary found herself struggling not to smile. "Well, if you are telling the truth, it ought to be a unique experience for you."
"I can tell you don't believe me—" he began.
"Really? Am I that transparent?"
"But I can prove it to you." For the second time in less than an hour, Lee reached inside his coat pocket for the jeweler's box. He knelt in front of the sofa, at Mary's feet, and opened the lid.
The betrothal ring came as a complete surprise. She had never credited Liam Kincaid with having taste, but Mary had to admit his selection of engagement rings was impeccable—much better than Pelham's. If the truth were known, she hadn't been upset at forfeiting Pelham's pearl-encrusted gold ring or the matching pearl-encrusted wedding band, only at losing what it represented. Although she had kept her opinion to herself, Mary considered the pearl monstrosity overdone and gaudy, whereas the ruby and diamond ring and plain gold band Lee held in his hand were marvels of elegance and simplicity. Had he known rubies were her favorite stone? Had he guessed right, or…
Uncomfortable with the turn of her thoughts, Mary straightened her backbone and firmed her mouth into a thin, disapproving line. "Did you pick that out yourself? Or steal it from the hand of some unsuspecting ladylove?"
Lee placed a hand over his heart and pretended to fall back on his heels. "Mary, you wound me. You know you're my only ladylove."
"I know no such thing. From what I've seen you propose to women on a regular basis."
"That just goes to show how much you know," he repeated her earlier words. "I chose that ring because I thought it suited you." Lee quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't know you had fondness for pearls in gaudy gold settings."
"I don't," Mary snapped. "And I distinctly remember you shamelessly proposing to my sister-in-law in front of the entire population of Peaceable, Wyoming, not even five full months ago."
Lee nodded. "So I did," he agreed, "but that was different. I was only trying to fulfill my promise to her brother and show your brother what a stubborn fellow he was." Lee smiled. "Are you still holding a grudge over that?"
Mary snorted. "I have better things to do than hold a grudge over something you did months ago."
"I'm glad to hear it," Lee told her, a wry expression on his face. "Nevertheless, I think I should have bought you an emerald instead of a ruby. If I'd known you were so jealous, I would have."
"I'm not jealous!"
"Oh, yes, you are," Lee assured her. "It's probably caused by your unfortunate warrior heritage"—he echoed Pelham's disapproving tone of voice, then winked at Mary—"or, maybe it's because you like me much more than you think you do."
"I do not."
"Oh, don't worry, Mary. I like for my women to be jealous. It makes me feel wanted."
"Women?" Mary repeated. "You said women. Plural."
"And you said you weren't jealous."
He had her there, and Mary knew it. "This isn't a game of flirtation." Mary changed the subject. "I'm serious."