Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

J ess pulled the pie from the oven and set it atop the cookstove. Was it underdone? That would be better than burnt even a little. Father hated burnt food. But if the dried apples weren’t soft enough, the pie she’d baked to put him in good spirits would have the opposite effect. She poked the knife tip into the apple that peeked through the opening in the top crust. Soft enough.

She slid it onto the warming burner, then turned to see what else could be done. Her gaze tugged her all the way around to the man sitting at the table.

Lands, he was handsome. The way one corner of his mouth tugged upward, revealing a dimple. Those rich brown eyes, the slight wave in his brown hair.

He was watching her, as he had been every other time she’d looked back at him. She should be accustomed to it by now, but her nerves were tangling tighter and tighter with every quarter hour.

She almost wanted her father to come in now, though time without him was usually precious.

She and Gil had taken his horse to the pasture where Father’s other mounts grazed, then they’d spent the rest of the afternoon preparing for their conversation with him. Working through details about when they’d supposedly married and how long they’d been courting before that. They both agreed he shouldn’t give her father his real surname. Father knowing the connection between Gil and Sampson could only make the situation harder. Gil had chosen his mother’s surname before she married—Standish.

As they’d talked, Gil asked a few personal questions, too, like whether she liked to read and what books she preferred. Turned out that, like her, he loved Gulliver’s Travels . And they'd shared stories from their pasts so they could answer with some truth should Father ask them questions about each other.

It was hard to fathom Gil’s large family and how close-knit they seemed, evidenced by the warmth in his eyes as he’d spoken of each. The three older brothers had already taken wives and built their own cabins on the family ranch. He’d lost his older sister and both parents, just as she’d lost her mother. Was it easier to lose someone special when you had plenty of people around to share the grief? Maybe that didn’t matter. Jess couldn’t imagine not missing Mama, even all these years later, no matter how many people had mourned with her.

But Gil had been very lucky—or rather, blessed—to grow up surrounded by so many people who loved him. How would that feel? It didn’t seem possible. She had no experience that could help her imagine.

A tiny yearning pressed in her chest as she returned her focus to the stove. Did she dare ask him to take her to his family’s ranch? Did they allow outsiders to live there? Of course not. It was a family ranch, not a common town.

Jess would have to find her own way. Build a new life using whatever she could get from selling her mother’s jewelry. She’d have to find work quickly, perhaps as a housekeeper or a cook. If she could satisfy her demanding father, she should be able to please any employer willing to pay her.

The whisper of leather on stone outside made her heart lurch, yanking her out of her thoughts. Father was back. She glanced at Gil, then moved toward him.

He rose from his chair and met her partway.

As her father stepped into the room, she inhaled a breath and sent up a silent prayer. Lord, protect us.

The moment Father’s gaze struck Gil, he halted. His gaze narrowed, never leaving the man beside her. “Who’s this?” His voice took on a roughness he used with his men but almost never with her.

She took a small step forward and forced out the words she’d rehearsed. "Father, I have news for you. I hope you'll find it good news." She found Gil's arm beside her, wrapping her fingers around the thick cord of muscle. She’d not expected so much strength, but she used the contact to draw strength of her own. "I'd like you to meet my husband, Gilead Standish."

Her father’s gaze swung to her, his eyes dark. "Husband?"

She fought to keep from shrinking back. “Yes.” Should she volunteer more information? Or wait till he asked?

His gaze shifted back to Gil, and he worked his jaw as though chewing on his words. His face turned even redder than Gil’s had when he’d made the promise not to take advantage.

At least Father was trying to stay calm, though he hated surprises, and he especially hated when his plans were thwarted. Maybe she should have eased him into the idea of this. It wouldn’t have worked though. Confronting him was the only way to convince him she told the truth.

At last, he spoke again, still using that rough voice. "Stop playing games. Who is this man?" He still stared at Gil, his eyes flinging blades, but the words were clearly for her.

She forced herself to speak with a steady tone despite the fear pulsing in her heart. The more calm she showed, the better chance Gil would be too. "I’m being earnest, Father. This is my husband, Gil. We've known each other for several months. When I went to Helena in August, we were married."

She took a slow breath, then let it out just as slowly.

Father wouldn’t attack Gil, would he? His gaze had turned so dark that she couldn’t be certain anymore.

She inched sideways, a little in front of her husband . "I wasn't sure how you’d react or how best to tell you, so we kept our marriage secret until now.” She gave the look that usually melted her father. “But I couldn’t wait any longer. I know you’ll love him. He’s such a good man."

Gilead moved around her and stuck out his hand toward her father. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Mr. McPharland."

But Father didn't take his hand. His gaze never left Gilead’s face, and he made no move to return the greeting or speak any words.

At last, he moved his focus back to her. Was he shaking? When he spoke, his voice was as solid as the stone walls around them. “I’ll have it annulled. Or you can pretend this farce never happened. Wallace need never know.”

Farce .

Did he suspect they were lying? Her pulse galloped impossibly fast. He’d not meant it that way though. Just that it wasn’t acceptable because it wasn’t what he’d planned.

It didn’t benefit him in any way.

But what if Father tried to force her to marry Stuart Wallace against her will? There was no real law in this area to stop him. Only one thing would make him change his mind. He’d have to know Wallace would never take her if he knew the truth.

Which meant she had to tell him the truth—or part of it, anyway.

Her breath caught in her throat, nearly strangling her. She had to say this.

Lord, help me.

She swallowed and hoped her voice wouldn’t shake. “There’s something else you should know too.” She reached for Gil’s arm once more, needing to appear happy about this, though her forced smile must’ve wobbled. “I’ve just recently realized I’m in the family way. We’re going to be parents.” She sent Gil a strangled smile, doing her best to ignore his rounding eyes, before turning back to her father. “And you’ll be a grandfather.”

The room fell silent.

Father's face turned ashen, his eyes widening in shock before narrowing into slits of anger.

Gil didn’t move, his arm tense under her grip.

"You're what?" Her father's voice was a low growl, each word sharp as a knife. "Carrying this man's child?"

Jess swallowed hard, her throat tight. She held on Gil’s arm as if he could shield her. "Yes, Father. Gil and I...we're married, and we’re going to have a baby." She tried to keep her tone even, but her voice quavered.

Her father's gaze flicked between them, and his mouth formed a hard line. When he finally spoke, his eyes locked on her, his voice deadly calm. "You've really done it now, girl."

Jess flinched at the fury in his tone. She'd seen him angry before, but she’d never had his rage directed at her. Fear coiled in her belly, but she forced herself to stand firm. For her child's sake, she had to be strong.

Once again, Gil inched in front of her, shielding part of her with his body. “We hoped you’d be happy, sir. We sure are.” His voice held such a genial tone that she could almost believe he really was her husband, that they’d been overjoyed to learn of their coming babe.

A bit of relief eased the knots in her shoulders. Gil was here, helping her. Playing his part better than she could have hoped.

Her father's icy stare locked onto him. "I don't even know you, boy. What's your name?"

"Gilead Standish, sir. My family owns a ranch southwest of here."

Something in her father's expression shifted. That frightening anger never left his eyes, and his jaw stayed hard as steel. Even so, something was different. She couldn’t name it, but it was there. She’d spent a lifetime learning her father’s moods, the shifts in his face, his voice. What she saw now, the change in his expression—the mystery of it, the not understanding… It terrified her.

“What are you doing in these parts, Standish?” His voice was even, yet still laced with fury.

She slid a look at Gil, praying he wouldn’t tell her father the truth about his purpose here. Father wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Sampson to get to Gil if he learned their connection.

Icy dread slipped through her, freezing her chest. She tightened her grip on Gil’s arm.

Gil cleared his throat. “Exploring. Enjoying a bit of time away from the ranch. Also keeping my eye out for an uncle. He and his family came to these parts before we did. Now that my parents have passed, my brothers and I would like to find him.”

She eased out a breath. He was smart.

“You’ve nice land around here,” Gil said. “Good valley land for grazing. Do you keep any cattle?”

He was making conversation. She had to work to keep the shock from her expression. Here they were, trying to keep her father from venting his rage, and he was making small talk.

Studying Gil, another unreadable look filled her father’s eyes. Calculating maybe? Surely, he was trying to figure out how he could work the situation to his own good. He dipped his chin in a nod. “I suppose so, but we don’t run cattle. That’s what you raise on your…ranch?” Why had Father paused before that last word?

“Yes, sir. My father started with horses when we first moved to the place, and we added cattle about five years ago.”

Her father seemed to choose his words carefully. “That sounds like a lot of work. I’m surprised your family could spare you so long.” His gaze slipped to her, leaving his meaning clear.

Gil’s voice didn’t shift from its casual tone. “I’ve several brothers and a nephew still working the ranch.” He glanced at her, his free hand touching her fingers still wrapped around his arm. The smile that touched his mouth lit in his eyes with a tenderness that felt so real, her heart gave a little flutter. “I’m eager to take Jess to meet them. They’ll love her.”

Gil turned back to her father. “I hope you don’t mind us traveling for a bit. We haven’t made any final decisions about where we’ll live, but I want her to meet my family.”

Her father just glared, and everything inside her clenched as she watched for the anger to take over once more. But it didn’t. His tight skin eased into what looked dangerously close to a smile. "I suppose that’s fair. We can talk more about it later." He stepped forward, and she fought to keep from flinching. But Father extended his hand to Gil. "Welcome to the family, son."

Gil didn’t pause before taking his own step and meeting the grasp. “Thank you, sir.”

Just like that?

But as she exhaled, unease twisted in her gut.

That had been too easy. Her father never gave in so readily, especially when his plans were thwarted. What was he plotting behind that suddenly friendly demeanor?

As if sensing her disquiet, Gil released her father’s hand and rested his fingers back on hers, still gripping his arm. She didn’t dare release him, the only thing holding her steady.

Glancing up at him, she found him watching her with those warm brown eyes. Trust me, they seemed to say. We'll get through this together.

Drawing strength from his steady presence, Jess lifted her chin and met her father's gaze. "Thank you, Father. Your blessing means everything to us."

"Yes, well..." Her father waved a dismissive hand. "What's done is done. No use crying over spilt milk, as they say." His gaze sharpened on her. "But Jess girl, you know how I feel about secrets between us."

A chill skated down her spine. "I know. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I just...I needed to be sure..." She faltered, unsure how to finish.

Once more he waved the words away. “I need to speak with Jedidiah, so hold my dinner till later.” He started for the door, but paused and turned back to Gil. “I look forward to knowing you better, son.” Without waiting for an answer, he strode out.