Page 61 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
As they stepped off the porch, the cold bit at his cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the sting in his chest. He kept his stride even, not rushing her, even though every instinct screamed to close the space, to fix whatever had cracked wide open between them before it splintered beyond repair.
A few minutes later, they were on horseback. Juliana was snuggled in a Redemption Ridge hoodie he’d found for her in his truck. The air thinned as they climbed, sharp and clean, scented with pine and the faint mineral tang of red rock warmed by the sun.
Gideon kept his gelding just ahead of hers, glancing back every so often to make sure she was steady in the saddle. She was, but that didn’t stop him from watching. From wanting to read every little shift in her posture, every glance at the sprawling vista that stretched out below them.
The higher they went, the more the world opened up—snow-dusted peaks, winding river far below, sheer cliffs of sandstone blazing copper against the winter sky. Out here, it wasimpossible not to feel small. Impossible not to remember there was more to life than whatever hurt or fear you were carrying.
And that was exactly the point.
They rode in silence for a stretch, the steady rhythm of hooves on packed snow filling the space between them. Up here, the air had a way of stripping things down—like the mountains themselves weren’t going to put up with any nonsense. Mostly, Gideon had been too angry to talk. But now that they’d been at it awhile, he finally felt like he wouldn’t completely shatter if he tried to break the silence.
“You’ve been quiet,” Gideon finally said, his voice low enough that it almost blended with the creak of saddle leather.
Juliana’s gaze stayed fixed ahead. “I’ve been enjoying the view.”
“Mm-hmm.” He tugged his reins, slowing his horse until they were side by side. He let the quiet stretch a beat before speaking again. “Juliana, if you’re set on walking away, fine. But at least be honest with me—and with yourself—about why. Is it really because that’s what you want?”
Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t answer.
“Or is it because you’re scared?”
That got her. She cut him a sharp look. “I’m not scared.”
“Then tell me what it is.” He leaned forward slightly in the saddle, eyes locked on hers. “Tell me you don’t feel the same thing I do every time you’re in the room. Tell me you haven’t thought about what it would be like if we stopped fighting this.”
Her lips parted, but nothing came out.
“You’ve had one foot out the door since you got here. But you haven’t left. Why is that? You say you want to honor the marriage vows, but you don’t want to be my wife. I find a way to get the marriage annulled, but you don’t want that, either. Do you?”
“I want . . .” She stopped.
Gideon’s heart thundered in his chest as he silently pleaded for her to continue. Why was it so hard to admit what she wanted?
Okay, maybe that question was a little hypocritical, because until he’d been faced with the possibility of losing her, he hadn’t been willing to take the leap either.
When she didn’t finish her words, he sighed. “Can I tell you what I want, sweetheart?”
She nodded at him, a wrinkle between her eyebrows.
“I may have asked Ruby to draw up annulment papers, but I hated doing it. It was the week after the barn dance. I just knew that you were starting to like it here–maybe even like me a little.” He smirked as she rolled her eyes and huffed. “I’m just saying...You were finally warming up to me, and then you had the job offer of your dreams. And I told myself that if you wanted to leave and pursue that, then I wouldn’t be the thing standing in your way.”
“So why did you stand in my way and send my ride to the airport off without me?” The challenge in her voice was unmistakable.
“For crying out loud, Jules. If you hear me out and we have an honest conversation and you still want to leave, then I’ll drive you to Grand Junction myself. I couldn’t just let you leave without a word.”
She crossed her arms, lips pressed tight, like she was holding back more than just words. “Why wouldn’t you tell me about the ownership clause?”
Gideon sucked in a breath. “Where did you hear about that?” Then he shook his head. It didn’t matter. “I should have told you. I’m sorry I didn’t. The truth is, I don’t really even want it, and mostly I’d rather not think about it.”
“My mom thinks you married me so you’d become an owner,” she said, her lips twitching.
A startled laugh cut through the quiet around them. “Yeah, that sounds like me,” he said.
“That’s pretty much what I thought when she said it. I knew she was wrong. Because I know you. But then, Ruby handed me the annulment papers, and I didn’t feel like I knew you like I thought.”
“I was trying to give you freedom, Jules. I wasn’t trying to push you away. I just—” He broke off, running a hand over the back of his neck, searching for the right words. “I didn’t want to trap you here. I thought.. . I thought you’d feel stuck.”
She looked at him for a long moment before glancing toward the trail they’d been riding earlier. “And now?”
