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“I’m sorry. You did do me a favor by agreeing to marry my sorry hide, Callista,” he said in a quieter tone. “It’s just that...”
“What?” I snapped.
He let go of a long breath, saying, “I never expected to ever be married. Especially in name only. It’s not a popular notion amongst my people to wed for anything other than true love.”
I eased and nodded. “I do understand, Bryant. But I promise this won’t affect your meeting and marrying someone else, your real true love, in the future. Your future. Not after I return to mine.”
“I suppose not.” He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze, then released them and jutted his chin to the door. “Go on and wash. Then come back and share a meal with me, Mrs. Bryant. I would be very pleased for the company.”
I headed outside and made my way down to the creek, squatting and washing the trail dust off my hands, face and neck. Standing, I scanned the woods, hoping for a brief sight of Luka. He may not be my domesticated pet that would faithfully run up to me with wagging tail, but just the sight of him comforted me. And right now, I needed any form reassurance that I had done the right thing.
“Damn, McEwan, you are a royal idiot,” I grumbled.
I turned and grimaced at the cabin behind me, then froze.
Crap, what had I just done? Married.
Married!
Bryant was right to be furious at me for pressuring him into this quasi arrangement. Maybe a few words spoken in front of a minister a few hours ago meant nothing to me, had seemed no more real than a high school musical, but for him?
Posing another curious question. If Bryant took such ceremonies seriously, why did he agree to it?
More importantly, what would he expect from me now?
“Damn, McEwan. You really didn’t think this through.”
There was nothing for it now. Vows were said. News would spread. It was done. Might as well live with what was to come.
“Right, then.”
Bracing myself, I strode back to the cabin with determined steps, deciding that my idea had been impulsive and stupid, driven by my fury over Wilkens, and that we should go back to town tomorrow and find a way to dissolve this ridiculous marriage contract.
“Bryant, I just want to say that I’m sorry, that it was really a stupid idea to—”
My words froze when I opened the door and stepped inside to the sight of Bryant standing behind the table, holding the chair out for me. Two filled places were set between wildflowers in a mason jar next to a flickering candle.
A rustically romantic scene.
A wedding feast.
Yikes.
“No, Callista,” he said. “I’m the one who’s sorry for not appreciating your kind gesture in agreeing to marry me.”
“Oh. Yeah, about that.”
“Sit to dinner, and we’ll discuss it. Please.”
My eyes honed in on the entire scene, and my stomach instantly dropped. My flight instinct roared in my ears for me to turn around and run, run fast and run far, because if I took just one step forward...
I dipped into my pocket and fidgeted the smooth, sharp facets of my rose quartz. Nervously, I stepped up to the table and allowed Bryant to gallantly seat me.
“Apologies that our wedding supper is meager at best,” he said, sitting across from me and pouring me a tin mug of coffee.
I sipped the strong liquid, wincing. “You remember that this isn’t a real marriage.”
He gave me a cheerless smile and jutted his chin at my plate of Alice’s eatables. “Eat up now. It’s been a long day for both of us.”
