Page 21 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
Zeke nodded slowly. "You care about the people. The land. The trails. You might not love the animals the way Cassie does, or the hospitality side of things like I do, but you’re as much a part of Reynolds Ranching as either of us. I get that you’re not the sit-behind-a-desk-and-sign-papers type. But being part owner doesn’t mean giving up who you are. It means showing up in your own way.”
Gideon strongly disagreed with his brother on that. He was just the funny tour guide, content to show people what he loved about the mountains. What was he supposed to do as part owner? It had always been a possibility, but his parents had written the documents specifically so Cassie, Zeke, and Gideon didn’t become owners until they got married. And since Gideon had never planned on getting married...
How could he step up when all he knew was how to make people laugh and lean into the next adrenaline rush? Ownership of the ranch felt like a weight pressing down, a reminder that maybe he wasn’t enough. It was simpler to just point the bike downhill and let it ride.
He pushed away one looming problem in his mind only to be confronted with the other side of it. "I can’t stop thinking about how serious she is about it. Like, sacred serious. And I’ve been making jokes."
"That's your default. You make people laugh when things get heavy. But maybe this isn’t a joke anymore. Maybe God let this happen for a reason."
Gideon groaned. "You sound like Cassie."
Zeke chuckled. "I’ll take that as a compliment. Look, man, I get it. Marriage isn’t something to take lightly. But if you think she’s a good woman—and I’ve seen you watch her like she’ssunrise on the ridge—then maybe stop fighting so hard. Maybe start asking what it would look like for her to stay."
Gideon didn’t answer. Not right away.
He sat back, letting the words settle like dust in the quiet kitchen. Could he really imagine a life with Juliana Emerson? Type-A, beautifully stubborn, infuriatingly principled Juliana? The woman who color-coded her travel documents and probably scheduled her emotional breakdowns in thirty-minute increments?
And that was if she actually wanted to stay. What could he offer her? She hadn’t outright said she wanted to stay married. She just said she wanted to honor the vows. What did that even mean? How could either of them honor vows they had recited on a whim to someone they’d met twenty-four hours earlier? Could someone like her fit into this rugged, unpredictable ranch life? More than that, could he fit into whatever world she came from?
A flash of memory pulled him back to the island, to the rough ride on the old pineapple truck from the airport—the bumpy, dusty trip where Juliana sat stiffly beside him. She finally cracked a smile at his jokes, despite telling him she wasn’t there for adventures. But he’d caught a flicker of vibrant life beneath her guarded exterior.
Maybe that was what had hooked him. Because even then, beneath the hesitation and loneliness, there had been that edge, that fire of stubbornness and resolve that told him she wouldn’t be anyone’s passenger. Juliana Emerson was who she was. Tightly wound and perfectly organized.
But Gideon was who he was, too. And tightly wound things tended to snap when pulled too hard.
Zeke stood, slapped a hand on Gideon’s shoulder. "Just think about it. Don’t write it off just because it wasn’t your plan. I have to say, a billboard with my face on it and a homeless woman from Denver wasn’t my plan.”
Gideon grinned at the memory of the role he’d played in Zeke and Kaitlyn’s love story a few years back. That practical joke had certainly spiraled into something unexpected. Who was to say this unusual situation couldn’t do the same?
Later that morning, Gideon wandered toward the back of the lodge and the gazebo nestled there. The chill lifted as golden sunlight streamed through the trees. He’d come to reset a crooked trail marker near the south path—something small to accomplish, something simple that didn’t require unraveling the knot his heart had been in since breakfast.
A voice drifted from the gazebo just beyond the bushes.
He paused.
It was Juliana. Her voice, clipped and low, carried just enough for him to catch the edge of it. Then a shrill, cutting voice answered her through speakerphone.
Her mother.
“Colorado?” the woman scoffed. “Honestly, Juliana, what on earth are you doing on a ranch? You couldn’t even keep your houseplants alive, and now you think you’re suited for backwoods living?”
Gideon stiffened. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. But once her mother’s voice had entered the air, it was hard to walk away.
Juliana’s reply was calm but strained. “I’m just trying to get away for a bit. I didn’t plan to be here until I was packing, but it’s...complicated.”
“Oh, of course it is,” her mother said flatly. “You always find a way to complicate things. Always chasing these structured little plans of yours like they’ll fix everything. And where has that gotten you? You couldn’t even hold on to Leo.”
Gideon flinched.
Juliana was silent.
Her mom didn’t wait. “You heard what he said, didn’t you, at the Prewitt’s party last week? That you were exhausting. Toorigid. Too uptight. Men don’t want that, sweetheart. You were so busy trying to plan a wedding, you didn’t notice your fiancé was already halfway out the door. And you would think that with your penchant for control you could manage to drop a few pounds. No man wants a chubby bride, sweetheart.”
Gideon felt his fingernails dig into his palms. What kind of mother talked to her daughter like that? Took the side of a cheating loser over her own flesh and blood? Disparaged her body—which was absolutely perfect, thank you very much.
Juliana let out a slow, measured breath. “I’m not talking about Leo.”
“Well, maybe you should,” her mom snapped. “Maybe you’d stop repeating your mistakes. You give yourself to these ideas—these ridiculous notions about love and vows and control—and then you’re surprised when the man leaves. Like that ridiculous vacation fling you had in Tahiti. I swear, it’s like you don’t even want to get married.”
