by Annie Boone
Gillian chewed on her bottom lip, trying to figure out her feelings. On one hand, she understood why he would feel this way. The situation with her family was difficult and she had basically run away from her parents. On the other hand, she wanted to marry someone who loved her for who she was, not for the benefits of being married to Thaddeus Sinclair’s daughter. She was in circumstances that didn’t allow her to get what she wanted.
She knew that she had feelings for Marcus, but she didn’t know why. He hadn’t done anything to cultivate warm feelings from her. Was she only feeling sparks of gratitude or was she just hopeful that he might come to love her some day?
Marcus took her hand. “Gillian?”
She looked down thoughtfully at the way her hand fit in his. He had never reached for her before. She had secretly longed to feel him touch her. She wanted to know what it would be like to kiss him. But in this moment there were no sparks of love. She felt no desire for him to kiss her.
“Yes, Marcus?” she responded.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Hmm. It’s difficult to put it all into words. Many thoughts are running through my head right now. But I’ll try.”
He nodded but didn’t speak.
She took her hand from his and wrung her hands together in nervousness. She realized that she was at a crossroads and that she needed to speak her mind to Marcus.
“I had an easy life in New York. I had servants and all the money I could ever want to spend any way I wanted to. I was very lonely, though. So lonely that I sought out the company of the servants. I enjoyed being with them more than I enjoyed my family and so-called friends.”
Gillian stopped to take a deep breath. She felt a fat tear roll down her cheek and she wiped it away absent mindedly. She wasn’t even embarrassed by her tears at this point. She needed Marcus to see her heart.
“I have found a friend in Jenny. A true friend. I don’t wonder why she likes me. I love the time I spend with the horses. Having the barn cats around is nice, too.” Gillian smiled when she talked about Jenny and the animals.
“I can see the friendship that you and Jenny have. I have to admit that you’ve been good for her,” Marcus said. He scuffed his boot in the grass. It seemed like this kind of conversation was not comfortable for him. He had been mostly gruff since her arrival and their communication had been limited to instructions about how to do things around the ranch. Well, that and the argument about her lie to her parents.
“We both took a leap of faith in this, Marcus,” she said. “We knew nothing about each other when we agreed to see if we could make it work. Honestly, I’m not sure we’ve done the best by each other, but I’m willing to try harder. Maybe I shouldn’t be so honest, but I want a true marriage. A happy one. Do you think that’s possible for us?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s not really the first thing I considered when I started looking for a wife. I’ve never been a man to think about my feelings. I’m not sure I can be different than what you’ve seen. I’ll try to be nicer.”
Gillian was disappointed in his response. She felt like he was being honest and unyielding at the same time. Though he had said he didn’t want her to marry him just because she didn’t have any other options, she decided to take care of herself and worry about the consequences later.
So, embracing the unknown she threw caution to the wind. She reached for his hand again and squeezed it tightly. The look on his face was unreadable.
“Sure, Marcus, I’ll marry you.”
Chapter Nine
Gillian didn’t recall much from her wedding. While Reverend Tyler spoke about everlasting love and the blessing of children, her mind wandered to the simplicity of it all. She was wearing a borrowed gown and her hair was filled with flowers instead of a flowing veil. The church was almost empty. If she had gotten married in New York the church would be overflowing with her father’s business associates and church members that she didn’t even know.
The one thing that kept fogging her mind was the fact that the man she was about to marry was really a stranger. They had been officially engaged for only two weeks. In those days, he had been nicer as he had promised, but she knew no more about him than she did on the day she had accepted his brusque proposal.
She didn’t remember saying “I do” but she must have said it because the next thing she knew Reverend Tyler had given Marcus permission to kiss his bride. Gillian almost pulled away when he leaned in to press his lips to hers. They were surrounded by people, and it was such an intimate moment to share with others. But then she snapped back into reality, and realized that this wasn’t just any kiss. This was their first kiss. The kiss of two people joined as man and wife.
His lips pressed against hers rather chaste, and were gone so fast Gillian wondered if she had imagined it all. The witnesses broke into applause, and that was it. Her wedding was over. And her marriage was beginning.
There was no grand party like she would have had back in New York. No gifts waiting for her to open. For the first time since she had left, Gillian felt depressed to not have her New York life. She wished her parents had been part of her wedding and that her wedding had been luxurious and beautiful.
She kept her sad feelings inside and smiled as they returned to the ranch. Jenny surprised them with a special dinner. She had worked very hard to prepare it and Gillian didn’t want to spoil the evening.
Jenny had roasted chicken with herbs and potatoes with vegetables and freshly baked bread. Dessert was a small, sweet wedding cake. Jenny handed Gillian a knife to cut the cake when it was time for dessert. The momentous event of cutting the wedding cake was met with applause by Jenny and her father. Then Marcus joined. The scene was warm and it cheered Gillian up after the emotionally draining day.
After the cake was enjoyed, Gillian got up from the table and began to collect the plates.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Jenny asked.
“What I do every night. I’m doing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen,” Gillian replied with a puzzled look on her face.
“But this isn’t just any night. It’s your wedding night. No chores for you tonight. I believe your husband is waiting for you, so go and enjoy the evening with him.”
That’s when Gillian realized that she was done sharing a room with Jenny. The marriage was truly beginning and it was time to start spending her nights with Marcus. Her husband.
The thought was terrifying. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. She wasn’t ready for this. A million thoughts flooded her mind. She suddenly no longer felt like the well-educated girl from the city, but rather an ignorant child. When it came to these matters, she was completely unprepared.
Sensing her unease, Jenny smiled and stepped over to her brother and whispered something in his ear. He became rigid, and looked down at the table. Their father hummed along to himself as he lit his pipe. If he was aware of the tension, he didn’t reveal it.
Marcus stood up, the sound of the legs of the chair slowly scraping against the wood. He walked over to Gillian, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He offered her his hand. She looked up at him and took his hand.
“Good night, newlyweds!” Jenny cooed as they climbed the steps to the bedrooms upstairs.
“Good night, Jenny,” Marcus called back. But Gillian couldn’t speak. She followed him until he stopped at the top of the landing. He let go of her hand and picked up a candle. He lit the candle, which cast an eerie glow on his bedroom door. Marcus stepped forward, opened the door, then stepped aside so that Gillian could enter first.
“I-I’ve never seen your bedroom before,” Gillian said, her voice shaking with anxiety.
“It’s not my bedroom,” Marcus said rather gruffly.
“No? But I thought—”
Marcus gave her another light kiss. Just like the one when they were pronounced man and wife, Gillian didn’t feel the sparks of love she had hoped for.
“No, Gillian. It’s not my bedroom. At
least not anymore. It’s ours.”
Chapter Ten
Gillian had envisioned married life to be happy and fresh and fun. Marriage to Marcus was none of those things. She barely spoke to her husband. They never had a conversation that was more than just a few words. He consumed himself with the running of the ranch, even more so than before they were married. She was convinced he was ignoring her, and she began to fall into a deep depression.
Food lost its taste, the birds no longer sang, and on the rare occasions he touched her she flinched. Even Jenny couldn’t bring her out of her sadness. The only thing that Gillian enjoyed was her time with the horses. Especially Sam. But Marcus was usually with the horses, so even that aspect of her life was tainted.
He wasn’t mean to her. He was just not the man for her. Gillian was painfully aware of that. They came from different worlds. She didn’t belong in his world and she suspected he didn’t want her in his. She longed for a connection that simply didn’t exist.
One day, while Marcus was in town, Gillian decided to sneak some time with Sam. She really did love that horse, and she knew that Marcus babied him more than the others. He was given extra carrots, and longer grooming sessions. He was spoiled in every way one could spoil a horse.
Sam had become attached to Gillian as well. After a few riding lessons from Jenny, she was riding Sam like she had been on horses her whole life. She had hoped Marcus would show her how to ride, but he dismissed the issue. Gillian assumed he felt she wasn’t capable of anything like that. But she approved him wrong. Even if he didn’t acknowledge that she did it, he knew that she did. When she first rode out onto the field, the shocked expression on Marcus’s face was satisfaction enough.
Sam was gentle and she trusted him immensely. In fact, Gillian often felt she was in more of a relationship with that horse than she had with Marcus. That thought made her very sad and homesick.
She was resting her head against Sam’s nose when the creaky sound of the stable door caused her to jump.
“It’s just me. I’ve been looking all over for you.” It was Marcus, and he didn’t look happy.
“Well, you found me. I’m sorry, did you not want me near Sam? I know you were trying to put him on a new schedule.”
“No, it’s okay. I stopped at the Post Office today. This came for you.”
He held out an envelope and Gillian caught a glimpse of her mother’s perfect handwriting.
Taking the letter with trembling fingers, she looked up at Marcus. “They wrote back,” she said stating the obvious. “Oh, my.”
Marcus scratched his head. “Yeah. I, uh. I’ll give you some privacy to read it.” Gillian knew with him being her husband, she shouldn’t send him away. But she wanted to know why they had taken so long to respond. She needed to find out their reasons alone.
She didn’t open the letter right away. There was comfort just having the letter in her hands. Until she opened it, she didn’t have any knowledge about their feelings for what she’d done. Had they granted their blessing or had they disowned her?
Instead of getting the answers she’d been longing for, she stuffed the letter into the pocket of her apron and continued to pat Sam gently on his nose. It was calming to do so and the enormity of what was weighed down in her pocket was somewhat lessoned with the help of having the horse near her. Finally, when she knew she had waited long enough, she sat down on a bale of hay, reached into her pocket, and opened the letter.
Dear Gillian,
I am sure you have wondered what has taken us so long to respond to the news of your upcoming wedding and relocation to California. To say that your father and I were shocked to discover you were not in Boston as you had informed us, is a vast understatement.
We have always wanted the best for you. We gave you everything we could and set a standard of excellence for everything you set out to do. For you to return our love and devotion with such defiance has wounded us deeply.
But, you are our daughter, and we will always love you. I beg you to return home to New York at once. I have enclosed money for your ticket. I am well aware you set out across the country to marry a stranger. If you were trying to get our attention, you have succeeded. If it is marriage you seek, there are many fine gentleman from wonderful families who would be overjoyed to have you as their bride. Surely you know this.
If the worst has happened, and in our delayed response you have gone through with this charade, then I still urge you to come home. We know the finest lawyers and can rid you of this marriage as though it never happened. If you have been tricked into this, and your “husband” demands a ransom, we shall pay whatever he requires.
We just want you to come home to us—whatever the cost.
Love,
Mother
Gillian read the letter several times, the tears slipping down her cheeks as she tried to figure out her best option. She had no connection to Marcus. Aside from Jenny, no real reason to stay. Sam nudged her in the back of her shoulder, and she turned around and rested her head against his nose.
“Oh Sam. You’re such a good boy. I love you so,” she sniffed. “Whatever am I going to do?”
Chapter Eleven
Gillian was going home. Back to New York.
Her mother had been right. This was all a charade, an act of defiance. She didn’t love Marcus, and he most definitely didn’t love her. She may as well have married one of the snobs that her father had picked out for her. At least then they’d have something in common.
She knew that this marriage had to end. Sooner rather than later. The next train to New York was leaving on Saturday. That gave her four days to settle everything here. She didn’t even really need to pack. She would be provided with all of her comforts and fresh dresses when she returned.
She decided it was best if she waited until Friday to tell Marcus and Jenny. Then she would pack up one small suitcase and leave the rest behind. Maybe Jenny would want her things. Then again, once they knew that she was leaving most likely they would want nothing to do with her.
Marcus hadn’t even pressed her to discover what was in the letter from her parents. She couldn’t get him to show any emotion, and that realization was what swayed her in this decision. If he had made an attempt to show any interest in what her parents had written, she may have felt differently. As it was, he made it clear that he didn’t care.
Gillian couldn’t imagine Marcus chasing after her. And there was a part of her, a small part, but it was there nonetheless, that wanted more than anything for him to give her a reason to stay. Just one small indication that proved this journey had been worth it.
Just then the door swung open and Marcus burst in. “Jenny! Jenny!”
“Jenny went into town. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Sam. He was out in the field with the other horses, and something spooked him. He took off, and tried to jump the fence. But he missed…” He ran his fingers through his hair. He was shaking. “His leg is broken, Gillian.”
A broken leg on a horse meant only one thing. Sam would not survive this. It didn’t matter how much medical background anyone had, the leg would not be able to mend appropriately. Marcus would have to ease the animals suffering.
Gillian clasped her hand over her mouth. “No!” She ran out of the house and into the field. As she ran to him she could see his beautiful chestnut color, lying in a heap beside the broken part of the fence. Sam must have gotten caught on the wood, and tripped. She dropped to the ground beside the horse, and she could see immediately that his breathing was labored. Gently, she began to stroke his mane, and let him know that she was there. When she felt brave enough, she looked down, over at his back leg, and saw the bone protruding.
“Oh, beautiful Sam!” She rested her head against his nose the way she always did, but this time she covered his face with kisses. “I’m not ready for you to leave me.”
She heard Marcus sniff, and hadn’t realized he was beside her. “I’ll take the other horses into the stables. I
don’t want to spook them when they hear.”
“I understand,” Gillian said, knowing he was referring to the shot of his rifle. “I’ll stay with him.”
It took a while for Marcus to get all the horses back inside the stable. He gave them water and food to make sure they were settled for the evening. Perhaps he was simply prolonging the inevitable, for when he returned, he had his rifle in his hand.
“Gillian, honey…” his voice was warm and velvety. She had never heard him use a term of endearment with her before. She’d never heard his voice sound so smooth. The loving words sounded strangely natural upon his lips. “I need you to move out of the way.”
“No. I won’t leave him. You do what you have to. I want to stay with him until it’s over. He’s afraid and in pain. I won’t leave him alone.”
“Gillian, I need to—”