A Veiled Reflection

by Tracie Peterson

  Just as Jillian thought to reply, a knock sounded at their door and Gwen peeked in. “Jillian? Are you all right?”

  Jillian nodded. “I’m fine but sorry for having made such a ninny of myself earlier. I just couldn’t seem to stop.”

  Gwen smiled. “I thought you were wonderful. Zack did too. He came and dispersed everyone and told me later that the general feeling among the townsfolk was that you did a good thing.”

  Jillian sat down on the edge of her bed and shook her head. “Then why don’t I feel better?”

  “I don’t know, but give yourself time. Oh, and here’s a note from your folks,” Gwen said, reaching into her pocket. “I almost forgot that was the reason I came here.”

  Jillian reluctantly took the piece of paper and for the first time in days felt as if she’d been given a reprieve. “They want me to wait on the wedding. Judith has telegrammed that she wants to be at the wedding and will arrive on Tuesday.” She looked up at Gwen, trying to seem disappointed, but inside she couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief.

  “Tuesday? You can’t get married with us tomorrow?”

  “We are very close, Judith and I,” Jillian began. “I’d really like to wait for her.”

  Gwen nodded. “Then Zack and I will wait too.”

  “Nonsense,” Jillian replied, getting up. “You go ahead and get married tomorrow, and Mac and I can get married on Tuesday.”

  “You sure you wouldn’t mind? I mean, the double wedding sounded like great fun.”

  “I don’t mind,” Jillian said honestly. “But I’d better go fill Mac in on the details.” She looked at the clock and realized it was nearly curfew time. “I promise to hurry.”

  “You go ahead,” Gwen said conspiratorially. “I’ll leave the back door unlocked for you. We women in love must stick together.”

  Jillian smiled. “Thanks. I shouldn’t be too long.” She looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. “I suppose I should pin my hair back up.” She reached to fasten the top buttons of her blouse with one hand while taking up her brush with the other.

  “Nonsense,” Gwen said, interceding. “Just go.” She took the brush from Jillian and pushed her hand away as she worked with the tiny buttons. “You’re covered better than you were in that gorgeous gown you wore last night. Just go!”

  Jillian laughed at her encouragement. “I’m going! I’m going!”

  She hurried down the back stairs, and suddenly pangs of guilt washed over her. What was she going to say to Mac? She’d treated him horribly. What could she say? She knew he hadn’t deserved her tirade, but her nerves were raw and it seemed that her grief over Little Sister and her misery over her situation were all too much to take.

  Creeping out the back door and across the street to where Mac’s house stood gleaming in the moonlight, Jillian resolved herself to plead insanity and beg for mercy.

  Knocking lightly so as not to alert the rest of the town to her actions, Jillian waited until she saw the unmistakable glow of lamplight appear, and finally, there stood Mac, rumpled and bleary-eyed.

  “Jillian?” he questioned, setting the lamp on the stand beside the door. “Are you hurt?”

  “Yes,” she said honestly.

  “What is it?” he questioned, becoming fully awake. “Show me.”

  “I can’t,” she said softly. “It’s my heart that’s hurt.”

  He instantly seemed to understand and nodded.

  “Oh, Mac, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to say those horrible things. I wouldn’t blame you if you never spoke to me again, but please understand that I didn’t mean a word I said.”

  He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “Oh, Jilly, I know you didn’t.” Holding her close, he stroked her waist-length hair and sighed against her ear.

  She snuggled against him, grateful for his forgiving heart. “I feel like I’m walking against the wind,” she whispered. “There’s so much in conflict right now. So much I can’t resolve.”

  He tilted her chin upward and gazed longingly into her eyes. “It’s going to work out. You’ll see. You just have to have faith.”

  “In God?” she questioned.

  “Yes, in God. In yourself. In me.”

  Before she realized what was happening, Jillian found herself touching Mac’s face. Oh, but he was handsome! He was loving and good-hearted and everything she had hoped for in a husband.

  “Mac.” His name was the only word she managed to speak before he closed her lips with his own.

  “I suppose you have a good explanation for taking these kind of liberties with my daughter,” Colin Danvers said angrily.

  Jillian and Mac came apart like two kids caught with their hands in the candy dish.

  “Father!”

  “Don’t even speak to me,” he said, holding up his hand. “I suppose you’ve spent the entire day and night with this man. Now I have no choice but to see you married to him. Is that how you planned it?

  Is that why you were angry with that woman in the street today? Did her words hit too close to home?”

  “Mr. Danvers, I’m a patient man, but I would advise you against insulting Jillian any further. She’s innocent of what you suggest. She merely came here tonight to apologize.”

  “And to show him your note,” Jillian said, grateful for her presence of mind. She held up the note as proof. “I needed to tell him that we weren’t getting married tomorrow.”

  “What?” Mac questioned.

  “That’s right,” Danvers said. “You aren’t getting married tomorrow, you’re getting married tonight!”

  “But, Father—” “This is how it’s going to be, Jillian. Your mother would be appalled if she knew you were here with him like this. Why, the man isn’t even properly dressed—and look at yourself. Your hair is down and you’re not even properly buttoned! How do you expect me to believe this is something completely innocent?”

  “I don’t much care what you believe,” Mac said, taking hold of Jillian’s hand. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Good. Let’s keep it that way,” Danvers said, not sounding a bit as if he believed them.

  “That’s fine by me,” Mac answered.

  “Now is as good a time as any,” Danvers replied.

  “Again, that’s fine by me,” Mac stated evenly.

  “Get your coat, MacCallister.”

  “Why?” Jillian asked, totally confused by the conversation that seemed to be taking place without her.

  “Because you’re coming with me to the preacher. You’re getting married to this man tonight.”

  Mac felt a sense of relief as Jillian’s father pointed them toward the church. All day long he’d wrestled with the question of how to convince Jillian to marry him for real. Now her father was taking care of the matter rather neatly.

  He wanted this wedding. He wanted Jillian for a wife. The only problem was, he couldn’t be entirely sure that this was what she wanted. He wished they could have a moment alone so that he could talk to her and convince her of his heart in the matter. Maybe if she understood how he felt, how he’d only gone along with this in the hope that the truth might be born out of the deception they’d created . . . maybe then she’d share her heart with him.

  Mac could feel her tremble. She clung to him so tightly that her hold was almost painful to him, but Mac would never have told her. He could see the kind of opposition she’d been up against her entire life. Danvers was not the kind of man to listen to his children or wife. He was the take-charge kind of man who would plow through a planted field if it suited his purpose. No wonder Jillian had felt the need to lie. Well, there would be no more need for that now. He would marry her, and one way or another, he would see to it that she was happy about the situation.

  Jillian found she had no choice in the matter. The two angry men had taken the matter out of her hands. She marched obediently, clinging to Mac as they made their way to the tiny house where Reverend Lister lived with his wife
. Unable to fathom that Mac was really going to go through with this, Jillian tried to force herself to calm. Mac would think of something once they were with Reverend Lister. He’d find some way to deal with Father, and everything would go back to normal.

  Oh, why did I have to lie about all of this? she asked herself. But in her heart, Jillian knew her feelings for Mac were in harmony with the evening’s plan. She desperately wanted to marry this man. She loved him, but could a marriage work if only one person desired the union?

  Mac would be legally bound to her, and it would take another legal act to separate them. Surely they needed to put a stop to this. But how?

  “What about the license?” she asked, suddenly seeing it as her way out.

  “Preacher already has it in preparation for the ceremony you planned for tomorrow,” her father sternly replied.

  Desperate, she dropped her hold on Mac and took hold of her father’s arm. “What will Mother say?” she questioned. “You know she has her heart set on giving me a wedding.”

  “She can still do that on Tuesday. But no daughter of mine is going to spend the night with a man and not be wed to him.”

  “But I didn’t—” “Jillian, you know nothing of men. This man might tell you all manner of things, make you all manner of promises, but often what a man promises and what he actually carries through with are two different things.”

  “But I didn’t do anything wrong!” Jillian declared a bit louder than she’d intended. Lowering her voice, she added, “Go ask Miss Carson. I’ve spent the entire day and evening at the Harvey House. I only went to see Mac to tell him about the note.”

  Her father shook his head, and for a moment, Jillian thought she saw a veil of sorrow pass over his expression. It almost seemed as if the moment brought him some unexpected pain. In the next minute, he stunned her with a totally uncharacteristic statement.

  “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.