A Matter of Marriage by Ann Collins

reach
him and make sure he’s all right.”
    Mary
tapped Julia’s arm. “You can telegraph him later. Go on with your story.”
    “Oh,
uh, I was telling you about Phillip. He agreed to marry me in exchange for
three thousand dollars. Once our vows were said and the papers signed, he was to
return East, to his … man friends.”
    Dr.
Dolan eased himself onto the other end of the bench. “Well, this explains your
lack of excitement regarding your wedding.”
    “Well,
I don’t understand anything.” Mary knuckled several loose, wispy hairs out of
her face. “What do you mean by ‘man friends’? He was your childhood sweetheart,
wasn’t he? Why wouldn’t he live here with you?”
    “Mary,
he wasn’t my childhood sweetheart. When Mother, Father, and I lived in Philadelphia, Phillip was an employee in Father’s hotel. He was a good friend, and more
trustworthy than the three traveling salesmen I initially approached with my
proposal. They all wanted … more than I was willing to give, including more
money. Phillip agreed to the amount I offered, and since he’s not the kind of
man who is attracted to women”—Julia paused during Mary’s rapid, indrawn breath—“I
believed him to be the perfect candidate for a husband I didn’t want but was
being forced to have.”
    “Oh,
my dear girl. This is truly dreadful. I had thought you were marrying for love.
You deserve love, and lots of children as beautiful as yourself.” Tears slid
down Mary’s cheeks, forming trails through the flour. “Your father had no right
to interfere with your life this way.” She lifted her apron and dabbed at her wet
face.
    Dr.
Dolan got up and paced the floor in front of them. His footsteps echoed through
the hallway and up the stairs. “Is there no way to challenge the will?”
    “None.
I did try, even though Father’s lawyer told me I’d be wasting my time. The only
way for me to hold on to the hotel is to marry before the deadline.”
    “Then
you must do exactly that.”
    “Harold!”
Mary stared at him open-mouthed.
    “We
have to be practical, my dear. Julia accepted her situation months ago and
knows what must be done. The problem lies in finding the right man, and I
believe I know just the one.”
    “You
do?” Julia leaned forward, hope returning. “Who? Someone in San Diego?”
    “Yes,
I met him recently when I was checking on the health of the inmates at the
county jail.”
    “A
guard?” Julia said, knowing the doctor volunteered his services there on a
regular basis.
    “No,
a man who was recently sentenced to hang for murder. He is scheduled to travel
to the State Prison at San Quentin next week.”
    She
gasped. “You want me to marry a murderer?”
    The
doctor shrugged. “Well, he won’t make a nuisance of himself at some later date.”
    “I’d
sooner marry Alex MacLean. At least a drifter wouldn’t taint the hotel’s
reputation.” Julia could just imagine the scandal if the newspapers discovered
the heiress to the Hotel Grand Victoria married a convicted killer sentenced to
hang.
    Mary
smoothed her apron over her lap. “That’s not a bad idea.”
    Julia
frowned. “What’s not?”
    “Your
marrying Mr. MacLean.”
    Julia’s
heart skipped a beat. She sat back with such force the bench shook. She hadn’t
truly been serious about him as a potential husband. Besides, though she hardly
knew him, she got the distinct impression he wasn’t the kind of man who would
just sit back and let her do things her way.
    “No,”
she said, “he’s not the right man.”
    “Why
not?” Mary asked.
    The
doctor tapped his chin. “Hmmm. I think Mary is onto something. Mr. MacLean
could be exactly what you’re looking for—a husband who will walk away.”
    His
wife nodded.
    Dr.
Dolan went on. “He’s a drifter down on his luck, in need of money, and
unmarried.”
    “He’s
also polite and well-spoken.” Mary brushed at a spot of flour on her apron. “But
his poor face.”
    His
face was the least of