Page 55 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
Her mom’s lips curved in a way that made Juliana brace. “You got married to Gideon Reynolds. I can see why. He’s a very handsome man. Not to mention, he needed you to access his ownership of the Reynolds Ranching Corporation. Why didn’t you tell me you’d bagged a rich one after all?”
Juliana’s pulse hammered. There it was—the grenade. The words Gideon hadn’t told her. Her mother had lobbed them across the room like gossip at a country club, but it landed in Juliana’s chest like shrapnel.
She forced her face neutral. “This is my business, Mom.”
Her mother leaned closer, eyes gleaming. “Maybe you’re smarter than I thought. The family kept the inheritance clause a secret, but I’m sure he was tired of waiting. Then you, all heartbroken on that pathetic honeymoon. You were the perfect woman to help him take his rightful place.” Her mother’s smilewas deceptively sweet, but there was a hint of envy and malice she couldn’t hide. She must have seen something on Juliana’s face, because she continued with a click of her tongue. “Come now, surely you didn’t think he was only interested in you for your sparkling personality.”
Juliana’s cheeks heated, fever or fury she couldn’t tell. She wanted to defend him. Wanted to snap that Gideon hadn’t once acted like a man chasing money or power. He’d acted like...Gideon. Soup and tea and ridiculous index cards. The man who thought her lists were both maddening and beautiful.
But the doubt slithered in anyway. He hadn’t told her. That silence suddenly felt deafening.
“I don’t think that’s why he—” Juliana stopped herself. Why he what? Why he kissed her like she mattered? Why he prayed with her when she couldn’t string her own thoughts together? Why he made her believe that detours could be better than plans?
Her mother’s expression softened in mock sympathy. “Oh, sweetheart. I know you want to believe this cowboy cares about you. But men like him...they see an opportunity. And you’ve always been too naïve to spot it until it’s too late.”
Juliana swallowed hard. The words hurt more than they should have, probably because they landed on the fragile place inside her still wrestling with her own worth. Hadn’t she just convinced herself to stay? To trust?
She hated how her voice trembled. “Gideon’s not like Dad. Or Leo. He doesn’t make promises he won’t keep, and he doesn’t care about money or status.” Juliana straightened, though her body ached with fever. If anything, that clause was exactly why he probably didn’t want to stay married. The man ran from responsibility like a nest of copperheads.
The room went quiet for a beat. Her mother’s polished mask didn’t crack, but the faintest twitch of irritation crossed her eyes.
“You really believe that?” she asked. “So what, you’re not going to stay with him?”
“I don’t know yet.” Juliana’s voice steadied. “If I stay, it’ll be because I love him and he loves me.”
Her mom’s sigh was heavy, disappointed. “You’re throwing away a future people would kill for.”
“No.” Juliana shook her head. “I’m finally living one.”
The words surprised even her. They rose from somewhere deeper than fever or stubbornness—somewhere rooted in all her whispered prayers, in the way Gideon’s steadiness had slowly rewired her heart.
Her mother stood, smoothing her coat with precise motions. “You’ll regret this, Juliana. Mark my words.”
“Maybe,” Juliana whispered. Her throat burned, but the conviction didn’t waver. “But at least the regret will be mine. Not yours.”
Her mother didn’t reply. Just clicked her way out the door, leaving the perfume lingering like smoke after a fire.
Juliana sagged against the pillows, every muscle trembling from the confrontation. Tears blurred her vision, but she let them fall this time. She wasn’t crying because of her mother’s accusations. She was crying because, for once, she knew they didn’t own her anymore.
Still, one truth gnawed at her. Gideon hadn’t told her about the clause. And no matter how much she trusted his heart, that omission left a hollow place she couldn’t ignore.
20
GIDEON
Gideon paced the length of the lodge porch for the third time, boots scuffing against the hardwood. He’d stepped out to give Juliana and her mom space, but the longer the minutes dragged, the harder it was to stay away. He’d been grateful for the call from Cassie asking him to come to the main lodge, because if he stood outside his own cabin any longer, he might just barge in and demand that awful woman leave his wife alone.
And yes, he recognized that he was only willing to think of her as his wife when it was convenient. But when it started to sound a little too good? He had to remember that she hadn’t chosen to stay. Yet.
His chest felt too tight, like every breath fought against the weight pressing down. Everything in him screamed to keep Juliana—fight for her, hold her, tell her she belonged here, with him. But logic was louder tonight. Logic said she had a glittering career waiting for her, that she could do better than a rancher with duct tape solutions and crooked cabinet doors. Logic said she deserved more than a man who’d already messed up plenty.
He raked a hand through his hair and forced himself back into motion, ducking into the supply closet and tugging down a box of extension cords from the barn dance that needed detangling. Busy. That was what he needed. Something to do with his hands besides clenching them. Something to remind him he had a place here, even if it wasn’t at her side.
But every coil of cord only wound the knot in his stomach tighter.
The sound of heels on wood broke his rhythm. He turned, box in hand, just in time to see Juliana’s mom glide toward him, coat draped elegantly over one arm. The same perfume that had filled his cabin earlier wafted ahead of her, sharp and deliberate.
“Mr. Reynolds,” she said brightly, her tone syrupy enough to coat the walls. “What a pleasure to finally meet you properly.”
