Something Borrowed (Jordan-Alexander Family 3)

"Ideally," Mary agreed, "that would be the case, but Mr. Cosgrove is a banker at the Cheyenne Stockholders' Bank, and his position in society demands quite a bit of entertaining. He needs his wife to be free to socialize—to serve on women's committees and host teas and receptions for prospective customers. Mr. Cosgrove feels that, in order for me to be the kind of partner he needs, I'll have to devote the majority of my day to those kinds of things. He doesn't think I'll have the time to entertain and continue to come to the ranch and teach." Mary did her best to explain the situation without casting a bad light on her future husband. The children wouldn't understand the fact that Mr. Pelham Eveihardt Cosgrove III felt that teaching the children on the ranch paled in comparison to being his wife.

"I don't understand," Coalie told her. "Tessa is learning to read and write so she can clerk in David's law office, and David's real proud of her. We both are," he added.

"And Faith runs the ranch house, orders all the supplies, helps Reese with the business accounts, and still has time to take care of Hope and Reese and me," Joy reminded Mary. "And she's real happy."

"My mother gets paid for cleaning the main house and doing the washing for everybody on the ranch," Daniel contributed. "She earns money just like Joe does. She's proud that she can work and still to be a good wife to Joe and a mother to Jimmy, Kate, and me."

"And Aunt Sarah cooks for all of us," Kate said.

"And she and Faith and Tessa serve on almost every women's committee in Cheyenne," Jimmy added. "Why can't you keep teaching us?"

"I'd like to," Mary told them, trying hard to keep from crying. "I really would. But sometimes we have to compromise. Sometimes we have to give up things we'd rather not give up for the sake of the people we care about."

"But this is Wyoming," Coalie announced. "This is a territory where women have just as many rights as men. David says so."

"My future husband doesn't want me to work and, well, in spite of the rights that the territory of Wyoming gives me, I feel I have a personal, marital, and moral duty to try to please my new husband…" She let her words trail off. At least in the beginning, she promised herself, until she could convince Pelham that she would be a better, happier wife if she continued to teach.

"Why don't you marry someone else?" Joy asked. "Someone who wouldn't mind your coming out to the ranch to teach us."

"Yeah," Daniel agreed.

Mary managed a small smile. "I can't marry anyone else. I've given my promise to Mr. Cosgrove. And even if I hadn't promised Mr. Cosgrove," she reminded them, "I couldn't marry anyone here on the ranch, and I don't know any other eligible gentlemen."

"What about Detective Kincaid?" Coalie asked.

Mary stopped suddenly and felt the blood rush to her face at the mention of Pinkerton detective Lee Kincaid. Her voice came out in a high-pitched squeak when she focused her attention on Coalie. "What about him?"

Coalie ran a hand through his hair, then shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant gesture. "He seemed to like you back in Peaceable."

Four months earlier, Mary had come face to face with the devilishly handsome detective in her brother David's law office. She remembered his thick blond hair, his broad shoulders, the way his mustache framed his sensuous mouth, and the humor sparkling in the depths of his deep gray eyes. There had been a definite spark of something between them, but it hadn't been like. It was more dislike—Intense dislike. She and Lee Kincaid simply rubbed each other the wrong way. And it was a shame really, when Mary thought about it, because Detective Lee Kincaid was definitely the most handsome and exciting man she had ever met.

She shook her head and faced Coalie's intense green-eyed gaze. "Oh, no, Coalie, you're mistaken. Detective Kincaid isn't interested in me. And even if he were," she paused, her expression wistful. "He leads such an adventurous life, he would probably be bored to tears with the slow pace of life on the Trail T."

"Mr. Kincaid didn't dance with anyone except you at David and Tessa's wedding party," Kate pointed out. "I thought it most romantic."

Mary frowned. At fifteen, Kate found everything romantic. "Mr. Kincaid only danced one dance because he left for Baltimore on business immediately after he danced with me. He simply couldn't spare the time for further dances."

"But still, he danced with you," Kate persisted.

"Nevertheless," Mary struggled to dismiss the foolish romantic

notions Kate brought to mind. "It's all neither here nor there. I'm engaged to marry Mr. Cosgrove on Tuesday, and that's the end of it."

"So you don't really want to continue teaching us?" Joy asked, on the verge of tears.

"Oh, no, Joy. It's not that I don't want to continue to teach you. I love you all." Mary rushed to console her favorite pupil. "It's just that…" She gripped the ruler tighter and felt its sharp edge dig into the tender flesh of her palm as she fought to keep the tears burning in her eyes at bay.

"She loves Mr. Cosgrove," Kate tried to explain.

"No, I—" Mary hesitated as she stared down at the two halves of the ruler that had snapped in her hands. She hid the pieces of the ruler in the folds of her skirt. "I'm sorry to disappoint you. I had hoped to be your teacher at the end-of-term celebration. I'll miss you all." She cleared her throat and took a deep breath before continuing in her most professional schoolteacher voice. "It has been my pleasure and my privilege to teach you. Thank you all. Class dismissed."

Minutes later, Mary Alexander stood on a box in the bedroom of her tiny cabin near the schoolhouse and gazed at her reflection in the full-length mirror. The face staring back at her showed the strain of the last few days and the look in her brown eyes expressed her sense of foreboding. Several times during the last few days, she had been tempted to cry off. But her cowardice stopped her. Pelham Cosgrove was the only man who had ever thought to offer her marriage, and Mary was very much afraid no one else ever would because she was part Cherokee Indian. She knew it wasn't the best reason to marry, but it was reason enough. After all, Pelham didn't love her any more than she loved him.

That was the problem, she told herself over and over. They didn't love each other. That was why she was plagued with uneasy feelings and doubts. She was about to exchange her safe, secure, well-loved existence and walk into the unknown with a man she hardly knew. And not for love—but for the sake of her cowardice and his convenience. Mary bit her bottom lip and stared at her reflection. Marriage was a lifelong pledge, and suddenly Mary wasn't completely sure she wanted to tie herself to Pelham Everhardt Cosgrove III for even a day—much less the rest of her life.

She sighed. Her daydreams of marriage had been so much more pleasant than the reality. In her daydreams, she fell in love and married a man who loved her—one who also loved the ranch as much as she did. In her daydreams, her husband moved into her cabin with her and they lived and loved and worked and raised their family on the Trail T. But her intended had other plans. He wanted to live in Cheyenne, and soon Mary would be legally and spiritually bound to follow him into the city—leaving behind her job, her family home, her parents, grandparents, brothers, cousins, nieces and nephews, and everyone else who lived on the ranch.

Mary frowned at her image in the silvered glass as she thought of all the upcoming changes. She would miss her loved ones, and the familiar confines of her cabin, but she would miss her job as schoolmistress to the ranch's children most of all. Pelham didn't want her to work, and had flatly refused to discuss the possibility of her riding the five miles out to the ranch every day to continue teaching. Nor would he consider allowing her to teach in Cheyenne. Mary sighed. So Pelham Everhardt Cosgrove III was a bit rigid and set in his ways. So what? He was punctual, reliable, and hardworking. He would go far with the Cheyenne Stockholders' Bank. So what if his kisses didn't set her heart racing? Mary reached up and thoughtfully traced the line of her bottom lip with one finger. Hadn't Pelham told her that the reason he didn't want her to continue teaching was that he wanted to start a family right away? Soon she would have children of her own to teach, and wasn't that what she really wanted? She should count herself lucky that Pelham was, in his words, willing to overlook her unfortunate lineage. If only she could convince herself of that before the wedding.