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Fort Wayne, IN
Wedding planning. She had dreamed of that time for so long she thought it would go without a hitch. She hadn’t counted on a controlling fiancé who also had ideas for the wedding and refused to listen to what she wanted.
“Mabel dear, we need to get some decisions made about the flowers.”
Mabel looked up at her mother, trying to hide the sadness in her face. “I know. Do you have the options here still?”
Mrs. Colton smiled. “Of course I do.”
“Then let’s go see them again.”
Mabel followed her mother into the back parlor where most of the wedding stuff had been put together or was stored.
Mabel sighed inwardly as she headed toward the flowers. So many shades, so many shapes, too many choices. She fingered some of the flowers, not really paying attention to any of them. Not caring anything about flowers.
“Is something wrong, Mabel?”
Mabel started. “No.”
Her mother frowned. “You don’t seem yourself today or for the last few weeks.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Mrs. Colton asked as she gently brushed her hand along Mabel’s upper arm.
Mabel hid her wince behind a fake smile. “Yes.”
Mrs. Colton sighed and Mabel resisted the urge to rub the throbbing bruise.
Mrs. Colton lightly touched each of the flowers and picked one up. “How about this one? It has an understated but still elegant feel to it.”
Mabel bit her lip. Would Douglas approve or would he want something flashier? Or maybe this time he wanted to go with simple? She raked her gaze among the flowers and found the two she remembered from before. “That does look pretty. But so do these two. I’ll bring them tonight and see what Douglas thinks.”
Mrs. Colton shook her head. “Darling, it’s your wedding, you can do whatever you want.”
Mabel suppressed a shudder. “I know, but I still want to get his opinion.” So he doesn’t berate me for my stupid choice and for not checking with him first. But those types of thoughts were something she would never say to her mother or anyone, really.
She took the three flowers up to her room and set them on her desk before sitting herself down on her bed. She stayed there for...she didn’t know how long. Staring at the braided rag rug she had made so many years ago. Wishing Tyrel were here and could see through all her fake joy and compliance. Or see through Douglas’s fake everything.
How could they all have been so deceived? And what could she do about it? If she broke off the engagement, her father would have paid for half the wedding already and would never see that money again. Besides, she wasn’t sure a broken engagement would stop Douglas from pursuing her even if she begged him to stop.
Mabel finally stood up and started to get ready for her supper with Douglas. She just hoped one of these three flowers would be sufficient. There were only so many places on her arm that would bruise without anyone noticing them.
***
Silver Camp, CO
Ellis Miller couldn’t believe he was in another mining town. Not only that, but one where his brother owned almost everything. He had loved Castle City, but there was something about Silver Camp that spoke to him even more. The best part was probably that none of the people here knew who his father was or what he had done and what had happened to him. Which meant they couldn’t rub it in his face.
As he explored the town one day, he ran across a little girl. To be more accurate, she ran into him. He walked down the street and a girl darted out of a side street and smack into him.
He caught hold of her. “Hello, pretty lady. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“Nowhere,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow. “You were going so quickly you must have had someplace in mind.”
“I wanna see my mommy.” She stuck her lower lip out in an adorable pout.
“Where is your mommy?”
“Doc-or’s house.”
Ellis tilted his head. “Is she sick?”
She shook her head. “She works there.”
An older woman rounded the corner. “Jane? Where...? Oh, there you are. I’m sorry if she is troubling you, sir. She ran off without me noticing.”
“She wants to see her mother,” Ellis said.
The older woman sighed. “Of course she does.” She squatted down behind Jane. “We’ll go see your mother after lunch is made. That way we can bring her some food right away, too.”
Jane wrinkled her nose. “But she already has her lunch.”
“So? That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t appreciate a little warm, hearty stew to go with it.” She stood up, holding Jane’s hand. “Thank you for stopping her when you did, Mister...?”
“Ellis Miller.” He held out his hand. “I’m Dr. Miller’s brother. Is this Mrs. McKee’s little girl?”
The older woman smiled and shook the offered hand. “And I’m Mrs. Marshall. Yes, she is Sarah’s girl. I watch her when Sarah works at the office. It gives me something to do, and Jane usually enjoys it.”
Ellis chuckled. “Today must be one of her days not liking it?”
Mrs. Marshall smiled. “Yes. Now, I have food cooking and am afraid it’s already burned. Sorry to cut this short. Feel free to visit sometime, young man. Jane obviously likes you since she didn’t run away screaming to be freed like she usually does to men who stop her.”
Ellis blinked in surprise and wanted to ask more, but couldn’t because the woman and girl were already gone. Why would a girl scream like Mrs. Marshall described? Had she been hurt by a man before or did she just not know many men since her mother was a widow and was therefore scared of them? “Not my concern,” he muttered to himself. “Now to see if I can’t find something to do around here besides work in the mine.” He grinned. “And maybe have a talk with the fetching nurse my brother hasn’t had the sense to snatch up yet.”
***
Fort Wayne, IN
Two weeks later, Mabel sat in her parlor wringing her hands while she waited for Douglas to arrive. Could she do it? She had to. No matter what the consequences were, they would be higher if she didn’t.
“Douglas Willoughby,” the maid announced just before the handsome young man walked in.
Mabel stood and let him pull her in for a gentle kiss. “Good evening, Douglas.”
“Good evening, Mabel. How is my fair fiancée today?”
Mabel faked a smile. “Not too bad. How are you?”
“Quite excellent, I must say. The wedding is only a month away and all the plans seem to be making excellent progress so far.”
Mabel nodded. “Yes, they are.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Mabel usually kept up with a good amount of small talk before supper, but tonight she couldn’t think of anything except what she wanted to tell him later. Maybe she should tell him now? But that would ruin supper. A supper she wouldn’t be able to eat if she didn’t tell him now.
Douglas put a hand on her knee. “I can tell you are thinking about something. What is it?”
Mabel pursed her lips together. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that obvious.”
Douglas chuckled. “Not a problem. You are easy to read for someone who knows you as well as I do.”
Mabel kept her eyes down and rubbed her hands on her dress as they slowly became clammy and cold. “We need to talk about the wedding.”
“I know. That is why I am here.”
“No.” She swallowed hard. “We need to talk about us. Our relationship.”
Douglas’s forehead furrowed. “What about us? I thought we were doing fine. Aren’t we?”
Mabel clenched her fists as best she could with how wet her hands were. Why had she thought he would listen to her? How could she have fallen for a man like him? “You are controlling the wedding too much. I feel like any time I come up with an idea for the wedding, you put a stop to it.”
Douglas inched closer. “It is my wedding, too. Can I not have some say in it?”
Mabel pursed her lips, almost drawing blood. “I don’t mind you having some say, but all of it?”
“I let you choose the place.”
“Yes, but—”
“And your dress. If you’d like, you can choose the flowers.”
“No.”
Douglas jerked. “No?”
Her fingernails dug into her palms. “No. I don’t want concessions, I want an apology. A promise to never hurt me again physically. Anything.”
He stared at her, his eyes looking like empty orbs. Tears sprang to her eyes. She had to do it. She had to. But her hands shook too much.
Mabel stood up on trembling legs. “I... I...” She twisted the ring on her finger until it slipped up to her knuckle. The diamonds sparkled in the lamplight, the tears in her eyes making them flash in a dizzying fashion.
She swallowed hard and pulled it off past her fingertip, dropping it beside him. “I can’t marry you.” She felt like a load of bricks had been lifted from her shoulders. She waited for a response, but there was none. Dread fell on her as quickly as the relief had come and she turned to leave the parlor, unable to be in the same room with him anymore.
Before she finished the turn and just before her brain registered her father coming into the doorway, Douglas grabbed her arm, immobilizing her as he gripped it hard across two of the bruises he had left in previous weeks.
“You have no right to speak to me that way,” Douglas hissed. His hand rose up and fell faster than she could anticipate.
The next thing she knew, she was on her knees on the floor, her cheek throbbing from the blow. Coming through the fog of her shock and pain was a loud voice—her father’s voice—yelling something. She looked up and saw her father with a hand on Douglas’s back pushing him out of the parlor door. It was over. Her father now knew. She wasn’t engaged. There would be no wedding. She would never trust any nice, handsome man ever again.
Mabel felt herself falling but couldn’t stop. Nothing mattered anymore. She didn’t have to marry Douglas. Ever. No one could make her. Blackness collided with her thoughts and dispersed them to the four winds and beyond.