A Veiled Reflection (30 page)

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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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BOOK: A Veiled Reflection
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“I've seen women—their reputations—destroyed by men who made promises they never intended to keep. I can see for myself that you fancy yourself in love with this man. I have no way of knowing what liberties he's already taken, but I've heard the talk in this town. Jillian, you must marry him.” The statement was offered without anger or malice. “Whether you stay in Pintan or move elsewhere, I want this scoundrel to realize he has an obligation. He's the one who wooed you and allowed you to lose your heart.”

“But, Father, it wasn't that way,” Jillian said, pleading with the older man to hear her out. “Mac has done nothing wrong.”

“It never seems that way,” Danvers said with a frown. “I'm going to tell you both something. Something I would never have shared while my mother still lived, but perhaps it needs to be told.” He actually appeared less than confident for a moment. “At fifteen, my sister, Katherine, gave her heart, among other things, to a young man whom she fancied herself in love with. She was completely taken in by this scallywag, and when the moment arrived for him to deal honorably with her, he was nowhere to be found. Finding herself deserted, my sister pined and mourned for her young man, certain that he had met with a fate equal to or worse than death. Weeks passed, however, and the young man was soon seen frequenting some of the rougher taverns in town. I went after him as a good brother should, but the man refused to honor his word. He wanted nothing more to do with my sister.”

Her father's haunted expression troubled Jillian. She'd never heard anything about this in all her years. Why, she scarcely even knew she had an Aunt Katherine. The only mention was of a sister who had died tragically at a young age. Jillian stiffened, suddenly knowing how her father's story was about to end.

“My sister was unable to deal with her grief. She took her own life.” He let the statement settle for a moment before turning to Jillian. “I won't see that happen again. I should have forced that scoundrel to marry my sister. I didn't, but I should have. I won't make the same mistake twice.” His anger seemed to return, and he twisted his arm away from her touch and pounded firmly on the front door of the parsonage. “I'll expect both of you to act respectably.”

A sleepy Reverend Lister opened the door, candle in one hand, the other hand working to pull together the ties of his robe.

“I need you to marry my daughter to this man,” Danvers told the reverend impatiently. “I don't care what it costs, I want it done now!”

Lister looked confused. “I thought they were marrying tomorrow afternoon.”

Mac said nothing, but Jillian sent him a pleading look. She couldn't help but hope that he had figured some way to fix this situation. Instead, he seemed quietly at ease with the entire matter.

“I want them married now. Her sister arrives on Tuesday, and we'll have a proper wedding then, but for now I insist on this.” Danvers pulled out a wad of bills and handed them to the uneasy pastor. “This should cover your troubles.”

By this time Mrs. Lister had come to see what the trouble was. “Oh, Jillian! Mac! How romantic. You two are eloping, I see.” She seemed not to notice the tension among the three visitors.

“Well, come on in and let's get this over with,” Reverend Lister finally said, stepping away from the door. “Hannah, light a lamp, please.”

The older woman quickly complied. “We haven't had a midnight wedding in some time,” she chuckled. “Guess you two are anxious to start your new life together.”

Jillian felt faint. This was madness. Was Mac going to tolerate her father's interference in their lives?

Reverend Lister took up his Bible and nodded. “Mac, you take hold of Jillian's hand.”

Mac did just that, but Jillian tried to pull away. “Mac?” she questioned, looking up at him.

He held her hand fast and refused to look down at her. “We're ready,” he told the preacher.

Jillian's mind whirled in a million different directions. Her dream of marrying Mac was actually coming true, but it wasn't at all in the way she had expected it. Forcing a man into marriage couldn't be good, she reasoned.

She looked at the determined expression on her father's face and found herself stepping a little closer to Mac. He believed her to have been compromised. He believed the worst of her, and yet never once had she ever given him a reason to carry such notions. It angered her suddenly to realize the thoughts that were in her father's head.

Resolving to speak out when her chance came, Jillian wondered what she should say. Should she just blurt out that while she loved Mac dearly, she couldn't marry him because it had all been a lie? Could she bear additional humiliation? Mac's hand held her fast, and she couldn't help but allow her feelings for him to surface. How could she fight this kind of love? The power of it overwhelmed her.

When Reverend Lister finally asked her if she would take Mac for her husband, Jillian could no longer deny her feelings or heart in the matter. Knowing it was probably the wrong thing to do, Jillian nodded and said, “Yes.”

The entire ceremony took less than ten minutes, and at the end of it, Mac turned to her and instead of kissing her, glared over her shoulder at her father and spoke in a low, hard voice. “Let's get out of here and let these good folks get back to sleep.”

Outside, Colin Danvers, true to form, turned to his daughter. “You'd do best to get yourself back to that Harvey House and stay there until the wedding on Tuesday. I won't tolerate you shaming your mother.”

“Excuse me,” Mac said, holding Jillian possessively. “She's my wife now and she's coming with me.”

Jillian began to tremble as her father's eyes narrowed and the truth of the matter began to dawn on her. She had just become Mac's wife.

“You'll further compromise her reputation,” Danvers replied, then shrugged. “But given the fact that you won't be here much longer, I suppose it doesn't have to be that detrimental.”

Mac's grip on Jillian's arm became painfully tight. “As I've told you before, Jillian and I are going to remain here in Arizona.”

“But I thought we'd come to an understanding about that earlier today,” Danvers said.


You
came to an understanding. You offered money and the promise of an incredible future if I would move to Kansas City with Jillian. But you also offered me money if I'd leave her altogether and head west. Exactly which understanding were you expecting me to follow through with at this point?”

Jillian felt sick. It was as if they were bartering for her future. Her father treated her as if she were one of his businesses and he was negotiating the trade or sale of a valuable commodity.

“You know full well that I'm speaking of you moving with Jillian to Kansas City,” Danvers replied. “My wife desires to have her daughters close, and if that means tolerating the likes of you, then so be it.”

“Well, it doesn't,” Mac stated. “I've married your daughter for one reason and one reason alone. I love her. I don't want your money or your demands. And please believe me when I say if I had not wanted to marry Jillian, your little escapade here tonight wouldn't have made a bit of difference to me. No one pushes me around and tells me how to run my life. My soul belongs to God, and He directs my steps . . . not you.

“Now we're going home, and I suggest you go back to the hotel and tell your wife what you've done. If Jillian wants a big town wedding on Tuesday, then we'll have one. If not, then we'll forget about it. Understand?”

For once, Colin Danvers had truly met his match. Jillian felt a mixture of pride and wonder as Mac fought for her. He had said he loved her. Dare she believe that this was the truth? Dare she hope that Mac had married her because he wanted to, not merely because her father had chosen to make a scene?

Danvers' expression changed to one of resignation, something Jillian had not ever witnessed. “Very well.” He turned to go, then turned back to stare hard at his daughter. “I hope you'll remember your mother's delicate feelings on this matter.”

Jillian nodded. “I will,” she promised. “The wedding can take place Tuesday just like you requested.” Danvers said nothing but turned and walked back toward the hotel.

“Come on,” Mac said, loosening his grip to put his arm around Jillian's shoulders.

Trembling from head to toe, Jillian now realized she had an entirely different matter to deal with. She had to face Mac and learn the truth. But maybe more importantly, she needed to tell him the truth herself.

TWENTY-ONE

WATCHING JILLIAN CLOSELY, Mac opened the door to his home. Their home. Without a word, he lifted her into his arms, smiling as she gasped in surprise.

“It's tradition to carry the bride across the threshold,” he said softly against her ear. He could hardly believe she was really his wife, the very desire of his heart.

Jillian said nothing, and even after he set her back down and turned to close the door, she remained silent. Turning, he found her scrutinizing him. She backed up a step as if afraid, then licked her lips.

“Mac, I'm so sorry about my father. I had no idea this was going to happen. You have to believe me. I would never have allowed this. In fact, I was sure you were going to stop it.”

She rambled on and on in her nervousness, and Mac might have laughed had the fear not been so evident in her eyes.

“I don't know what to do now. I feel awful. This only started because I wanted my mother to leave off with her matchmaking. I took advantage of you and that was so wrong. I appreciate what you did for me, but, Mac, you can't just marry someone to take them away from bad circumstances. My father is overbearing and ruthless, but you shouldn't have let him force you into a marriage you were only pretending to want.”

He stepped forward at this and put his finger to her lips. “No one could ever make me marry anyone. Your father knows that. He offered me a great deal of money to leave you, but he also offered me money to marry you and return to Kansas City. I turned him down, just as I mentioned earlier, on both counts. I married you because I wanted to.”

As if to show her proof, he took her into his arms and kissed her long and passionately. She yielded easily, but Mac couldn't help feeling a little guilty. After all, just because he wanted to marry Jillian didn't necessarily mean she wanted to marry him. Suddenly her outbursts took on a new meaning to him. Perhaps she was saying all of this because she was unhappy with him for forcing himself on her.

Mac broke the kiss and looked at her for a moment. Her eyes were still closed as if she were lost in the kiss. Slowly, she opened her eyes and met his gaze. She seemed content enough.

“Jillian, I know this is probably confusing for you, but we can make this work.”

“I thought you never wanted to marry again. I thought the pain of what you suffered with Abigail had put you off of the idea of ever sharing your life with another person.”

He nodded. “I thought so too.” He grinned and reached up to touch her cheek. “Then you came to town.”

“So you don't mind?” she asked weakly, almost fearfully.

Mac laughed. “Mind? Being married to the most beautiful woman in the world? Should I mind being married to such a loving and generous soul who fights with such fervor to right the wrongs of injustice?” Tears formed in her eyes, and Mac released her to offer his handkerchief. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

She sniffed and dabbed at the tears. “It's not your fault.”

He could see she was still shaking and so he led her to the sofa. “Here, sit down and talk to me about this.” He squatted down beside her and took hold of her hand. “Is it really all that bad? Is the idea of being married to me so terrible?”

She looked up at him with such an expression of disbelief that Mac wasn't at all sure what she would say. But Jillian never had the chance to speak because the sound of a bell clanging from the far end of town brought both Jillian and Mac to their feet.

“Fire!” someone shouted in the stillness of the night.

“Fire?” Jillian barely breathed the word.

“Stay here and I'll find out what's going on,” Mac instructed. He disappeared into his office, then grabbing up his black bag, he went to the door. “I'll be back as soon as I can.”

He left her standing there and rushed out into the night. In the distance he could see the red and amber glow against the star-dotted night skies. Running at full speed, Mac rounded the corner coming onto Main Street just in time to hear Mr. Everhart shout that they were under Indian attack.

This halted Mac in his tracks. Indians? The Navajo? He looked around him at the gathering crowd of hysterical people. Men toted rifles and shotguns, fully prepared to do whatever battle became necessary to defend their loved ones. Mac felt almost silly carrying his doctor's bag as he noted the glances of the other men as they acknowledged his presence.

“What's going on?” he finally asked the nearest man.

“Injuns set fire to the jail, is my guess. The wind has spread the flames. It's gonna be hard to keep it from burnin' us to the ground.”

“Get your buckets!” someone yelled. “We ain't gonna stand by and let them savages burn us out.”

Cheers went up from the crowds as women and men scrambled for every available bucket and watering can. Mac moved off down the street toward the jail. Zack Matthews instantly came to mind, and he wondered if Bear had somehow overpowered the young sheriff—or worse yet, killed him.

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Mac tried to be wary of any movement on the side streets or between buildings. He could distinguish moving shadows but had no idea to whom those shadows belonged. They could be Navajo, they could be townsfolk. Either way, knowing the jittery nerves of his neighbors, someone was bound to get hurt before it was all said and done.

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