A Veiled Reflection (27 page)

Kate gave Jillian one final look-over before turning to the mirror to adjust her own ebony curls. “Who knows, maybe I'll be findin' me a nice young man to settle down with. There's some cowboys in from the local ranches. I might even find me an Irishman.”

Jillian smiled. “You'd give up all of this?”

Kate laughed. “If I could marry someone as wonderful as yar Dr.

Mac, I'd leave it all in a minute. Yar blessed to have him, Jillian. He's an honest and trustworthy man.”

Jillian frowned and looked away quickly so that Kate couldn't see her reaction. Mac
was
a good man, and she felt as though she'd somehow corrupted him by forcing him into this lie.

“Well, come along, Mrs. MacCallister,” Kate said, laughing.

Jillian shook her head. “You can't be calling me that yet.”

“I'm just tryin' it on for size. It suits ya, don't ya think?”

Jillian nodded. It suited her just fine. Too bad it wasn't for real.

Music could already be heard coming from the impromptu band at the end of Main Street. Everyone who had a fiddle or guitar had congregated at the end of town where the street had been quartered off for dancing and other festivities. Long tables generously laden with a variety of food stood alongside the street. Jillian noted that several of the church ladies, including Mrs. Everhart and Mrs. Mason, were busy putting order to the tables and instructing hungry cowboys where to begin.

Jillian and Mac had agreed to meet at the hotel, where Jillian would first find her parents and then await his arrival. However, when she managed to make her way through the crowd to the small establishment, Mac and Mary both were already in deep conversation with Colin and Gretchen Danvers.

Jillian paused and watched them for a moment. Four of the five most important people in her life stood congregated in one room. They were probably talking about her, and for the first time in many weeks, Jillian desperately wished her sister, Judith, might be here to advise her.

The sea of people seemed to swirl around her and part just in time for Mac to glance up and see her standing in the doorway. The look on his face was one of pure admiration. Jillian warmed under his scrutiny.
Why can't you be in love with me as I am with you?
she felt her heart question.

Mac came to her and took her gloved hand in his. “You look incredibly beautiful. Fine gowns do suit you, Miss Danvers.”

“So does black-and-white homespun, Dr. MacCallister.”

He grinned and inclined his head to where Mary was still in a heated discussion with Jillian's father. “They're talking politics.”

“Oh dear,” Jillian replied, looking at the stern expression on her father's face. “I hope he won't hurt Mary's feelings.”

Mac chuckled softly and leaned to whisper in her ear. “I hope your father will survive Mary's berating. He made an offhanded comment about our Indian troubles, and of course Mary couldn't let that just pass without educating the man on the true nature of things around here.”

Jillian smiled. “Bless her. I should have known that if anyone could stand up to my father besides Judith, it would be Mary.”

As if hearing her name mentioned, Mary caught sight of them and motioned them to the group. “You can whisper sweet nothin's to her later,” she called out, causing Jillian to feel her cheeks grow hot.

“You look so sweet when you blush,” Mac murmured.

Jillian tried to hold her smile firmly in place while replying, “It seems I do a lot of blushing when I'm around you.”

They joined the threesome, and Jillian kissed her mother lightly on the cheek. “You look wonderful, Mother,” she commented. And it was true. Her mother was always dressed in the height of fashion. Tonight, dressed in a royal blue satin with a jet-beaded black mantle and dripping in sapphires and pearls, Gretchen Danvers could clearly hold her own with any of the younger women. She was only in her forties, after all, and time had been very kind. Her blond hair was nearly as bright and silky as Jillian's or Judith's, and her figure was just as trim.

Jillian turned and saw the complete contrast of fashion in Mary's simple well-worn skirt of navy serge and her full-sleeved blouse that Jillian recognized as her “Sunday best.”

“That dress does you up real fine,” Mary told Jillian. “I'm surprised Mac hasn't run away with you before now.”

“I would have,” Mac declared, “had I thought I could have gotten away with it.”

He sounded so sincere that Jillian found herself unable to comment. There was really no need to worry about a lapse of conversation, however, as Mary quickly continued where she'd left off with Colin Danvers.

“Your daughter could tell you quite a bit about life out here. She's even accompanied me to help with some of the Indians. We have a group living not far from here, and I often go and trade the things they need for pieces of Indian art.”

“I've heard tell there's some good money to be had in Indian art,” Danvers replied. “Perhaps that's the incentive you folks need to put forward in order to calm the situation around here.”

“What do you mean?” Mary questioned.

“It's just that this whole Indian uprising and war against conformity could probably be settled by putting forth a plan of benefits. There isn't a man alive who can't be bought for a price.”

“Do you include yourself in that, sir?” Mac interjected.

Colin Danvers actually laughed, completely surprising Jillian. “Of course I do. I can be swayed for a price in most cases. But that price is quite high. You'll find, Dr. MacCallister, that most men have never bothered to consider it, but there is that place where we all must look to know ourselves a bit better. What man wouldn't lay down his life for his family? He would pay whatever price to keep them from harm—from making irrevocable mistakes.”

Jillian got the distinct impression her father had moved the conversation over to the idea of her marriage to Mac.

“People usually learn from their mistakes,” Mac answered. “Sometimes a fellow has to fall into the mud to appreciate being clean.”

“Nonsense,” Danvers replied, staring hard at Mac. “I can see that mud and muck are not a pleasurable source of entertainment. I can appreciate the finer things in life without having to suffer and live in the poverty-ridden shacks of the poor. I can relish a glass of fine brandy without having to drink rotgut. Your analogy holds no weight in my mind.”

“I agree that some things can be seen that way,” Mac replied and Jillian felt him tense. “As a doctor, I don't have to be suffering myself to know that pain hurts. But having suffered pain, I better understand how it feels to be in such a situation, and I believe it gives me a greater compassion for those I care for. It's no different with the poor and needy. Having known hunger, I'm more inclined to seek ways to help others avoid it. Knowledge and understanding are strength.”

“The Indians are the same way,” Mary declared. “The Navajo, for instance, believe they find their source of strength and power by living between the four sacred mountains. That is one of the reasons they refuse to be moved. They will fight to the death, if necessary, to keep their people on this land. Ask your daughter. She's worked with me. She knows how they feel.”

Colin looked to Jillian and laughed harshly. “Look at her and tell me that she belongs in the filth and squalor of an Indian camp. She was created for a world of beauty. She learned from an early age to grace the home of the men who care for her. She can't possibly fit into their world because her own world knows nothing of those things.”

“That isn't true, Father,” Jillian said, feeling bold with Mary and Mac at her side. “I believe I can be capable in both areas. I know very well how to host a dinner party and entertain guests in a drawing room, but I also know how to make a fire for myself now, and I'm starting to learn how to cook. I love caring for Hope, the Indian baby Mary helped to save.”

“That's right,” Mary said, nodding. “I'm hoping Jillian and Mac will be parents to the baby after they marry.”

Mac slipped his arm through Jillian's and pulled her a little closer. “Jillian is quite capable with Hope. I think she'll make a wonderful mother.”

“But you can't think to raise an Indian child,” her mother said in horror. “What will our friends say?”

“Your friends don't have to know, if it bothers you that much,” Jillian replied, getting caught up in the conversation. She no longer even considered the fact that they were talking about a fictional wedding and future.

“But you'll be right there among them,” Gretchen replied.

“What are you talking about, Mother?”

“Your mother is talking about your life in Kansas City. Either as wife to this man or as daughter to us,” Danvers stated with authority.

“But we have no plans to live in Kansas City,” Jillian replied, looking up to catch Mac's clenched-jaw expression.

“That's right,” Mac managed to add in a steady voice. “We have no plans to leave Arizona.”

“Nonsense,” Danvers said as though the matter were settled. “You can't make a decent living here in the West. I can set you up in business in Kansas City, and you'll make a hundred times over what you could in this hole.”

“But we happen to like this ‘hole,' as you put it,” Mac said, clearly irritated. “And we have no plans to move to Kansas City.”

Danvers smiled cynically. “As I said earlier, there isn't a man alive who can't be bought. You desire to marry my daughter. There's a price for everything. If you want to do business with me, you'll have to pay that price.”

“Father!” Jillian declared, completely embarrassed by his ruthless attitude in regard to her marriage.

“Jillian is of age, Mr. Danvers. She seeks your blessing, not because she can't marry without it, but because she prefers to marry with it. It won't stop us from marrying, however, so don't think you can practice your same roughshod business dealings with me,” Mac said quite seriously. “You may have controlled the women in your family by keeping them cowered in fear and acquiescence, but I desire a wife who uses her mind and can think for herself. I prefer a wife who can stand up to me and point out when I'm making a fool of myself so as not to completely humiliate myself in public.”

The meaning of Mac's words were clearly understood, and Jillian had never seen her father so taken aback. No one spoke to Colin Danvers in such a manner and got away with it. There was always a price to pay, and just as he had suggested earlier, Jillian knew most men were eager to pay it in order to align themselves with her father.

“I think I've heard entirely enough,” Danvers stated, taking hold of his wife. “We will retire for the evening.”

“What about the party?” Jillian questioned, hoping to knit some semblance of peace between the foursome.

“I'm not in a mood for a celebration,” he replied and, pulling along a teary-eyed Gretchen, exited the hotel lobby and made his way up the stairs to their rooms.

Jillian, Mac, and Mary all stood staring up at the now empty stairs long after the Danvers had departed.

“There you two are!” a voice called out.

Jillian turned and found Zack Matthews and Gwen. Zack gave a whistle of admiration, and Gwen's face shone in pure delight.

“You two look like something out of a magazine,” Zack declared.

“Jillian, your gown is incredible,” Gwen said, breaking away from Zack's hold to come for a closer inspection.

“My mother seemed to feel that my simpler fashions were leading me to a life of misery and despair. She brought two trunks full of clothes just for me. She didn't want me showing up in Kansas City looking like some misfit.”

“Kansas City? Are you and Mac going there for a wedding trip?”

Zack questioned.

“We certainly are not!” Mac said, anger edging his tone. He turned to Jillian. A harshness she had never known seemed to override his gentle features.

“Mac?” she questioned softly. “Please don't let my father ruin your evening. I told you he was quite the taskmaster. He's treating you no differently than he treats anyone else.”

“It's disgusting, if you ask me,” Mary threw in, coming to give Mac a comforting pat on the back. “That man is rude and inconsiderate. Excuse me for saying so, Jillian.”

Jillian shook her head. “There's nothing to excuse. The truth is the truth. He is rude and inconsiderate. He's also demanding, unreasonable, unwilling to back down, and unfortunately,” she sighed and felt her spirit sink, “used to having his own way. He always manages to get what he wants.”

“Well, he's not getting it this time,” Mac replied. “We aren't moving to Kansas City after the wedding and that's that. You'll be my wife first and his daughter second.”

Jillian looked up at this with surprise. The others chuckled. No doubt they thought Mac quite gallant in staking his claim, but Jillian realized he had managed to get caught up in the farce they'd created for her parents.

“Mac?” she said, drawing his attention. “Perhaps we should take a walk and calm down before joining the party.”

He looked at her for a moment, the fierceness still evident in his expression. Then, as if realizing the things he'd said, he nodded. His face softened and he put his arm around her shoulder. “I believe you're right. It's time to let cooler heads prevail.”

Mary laughed. “You two go have a few minutes to yourself. Just don't forget that you'll be expected to make a showin' at the party. Don't want you two elopin' or runnin' off just to get away from that dictator you call a father.”

Jillian smiled at this. “If only we could find him a country to control.”

Outside, as they strolled to the opposite end of town, Jillian and

Mac remained silent. Moonlight shone down, and stars overhead twinkled against the milky glow as if God himself had turned on every light in heaven in honor of the couple.