Authors: Ilsa Mayr
Still in a daze, Aileen sat. Thoughts raced through her
head faster than she could process them. Marriage? To
Quint? She felt heat rush to every part of her body. Then
she shivered as if struck by an icy blast.
"Drink this," Quint said, placing a can of root beer in
front of her. He sat, facing her, his expression grave. "I know this idea caught you by surprise. It did me too. I
almost drove off the road when it first hit me. But the
longer I've been considering it, the more sense it makes."
Aileen stared at him. She met the serious gaze of his
stunning green eyes and couldn't have uttered a word if her
life had depended on it.
"Think about it, Aileen. Once we're married, no one can
object to us living in the same house. It'll be expected. It
would be odd if we didn't."
Aileen moistened her dry lips. "Isn't getting married an
extreme solution?"
"No, not after you've thought about it. What other
choices do we have?" he asked. "As I see it, you could
resign before the school board can invoke that dumb moral
turpitude clause."
"No! That would be like admitting that I've done something wrong, and I haven't. I won't resign."
Seeing her agitation, Quint laid his hand on hers soothingly. "Okay. You could let them fire you and fight the
dismissal. Maybe you'd win and maybe you wouldn't. How
can they prove that we're sleeping together? How can we
prove that we're not?"
"This isn't anything that can be proved one way or another, is it?" Aileen closed her eyes and shook her head.
"The whole thing is insane!"
"When it comes right down to it, I'm afraid that most
people will find it easier to believe that we have an improper relationship than that we don't. After all, we share
a house; we're both young, healthy, and unattached." Most
men, Quint knew, would think there was something seriously wrong with him if he didn't make the moves on
Aileen.
Aileen sighed and buried her face in her hands.
"And while we're waiting for the legal process to take its course, you'd be out of a job. To meet our financial
obligations, including payments to the IRS, we'd have to
sell a chunk of land."
Aileen quickly raised her head. "No! That's not an option."
He nodded in agreement. "We could try getting a second
mortgage, but without your salary, I'm not sure the bank
would consider it. Are there any jobs around here you could
get quickly that offered a similar salary and benefits?"
"No.'
"I rest my case. I can't come up with any other options.
Can you?"
"No." Aileen shook her head. "It's just that marriage is
such an extreme step."
They both sat in silence, thinking. Finally, Quint asked,
"Are you opposed to marriage in principle?"
"No. I always thought I'd get married some day."
"So it's only marriage to me that you find so hard to
swallow? Marriage to the illegitimate son of Jack Bolton
and a poor migrant girl? Marriage to a man who hasn't
been to college, who works with his hands. In short, a man
who isn't good enough for you."
She heard the hard edge in Quint's voice, saw the bitter
little smile around his lips, and realized that once again she
had forgotten his fierce pride. "You misunderstood me. I
meant that marriage to anybody is a big step. And speaking
of being illegitimate-I'm adopted, remember? My parents
were a couple of teenaged kids who got carried away by
their hormones. The only difference between us is that your
birth mother decided to keep you and mine didn't. So don't
talk to me about being illegitimate."
"I hadn't thought of it that way," Quint admitted quietly.
Aileen took a deep breath. "I never imagined I'd get
married for such a practical and cold-blooded reason."
"Keeping your home is practical, but cold-blooded?"
"Well, no, not exactly, but-"
"But you thought when a man proposed marriage there
would be moonlight and roses and wine and romance."
She glanced at his face to see if he was mocking her. He
didn't seem to be. "I think most women would expect that.
Don't men?"
He grinned. "I suspect with men it's more physical..
"Sex, you mean."
Quint raised an eyebrow at her dismissing tone. "Never
underestimate the power of sex. It's one of the strongest
urges around." Judging by the pink color in her cheeks, she
hadn't yet considered that aspect of marriage. Quint quickly
changed the subject. "Why don't you give this marriage
idea some thought? If you come up with a better solution,
I'll listen." Quint picked up his root beer and headed for
the door. "I have some chores to do. See you at supper."
Aileen watched him leave, the expression on his handsome face almost cheerful, the stance of his body oozing
confidence and determination. How could he be so sure that
getting married was the right thing to do?
Had they considered all possibilities? Mentally Aileen
listed all her assets. Discouraged, she realized that, even if
she sold everything dear and of value in the house, the
money would not go far. Selling part of the land was not
an option, as they needed every acre to make the ranch
successful. A loan. Even if they could secure one, how
could they repay it without her salary? She needed her job.
That was the bottom line. And getting married appeared to
be the only way to keep it.
Marrying Quint. Aileen's hand shook as she reached for
her drink. What kind of marriage did he envision? She had
always expected to be in love with the man she married. Madly, hopelessly, totally in love. Had Quint hoped for
love too?
He did say that men were more practical. Maybe he pictured their marriage merely as a practical arrangement.
They would work side by side. They would be partners and
companions. Maybe even friends. That was a lot more than
many people had, and under the circumstances, such an
arrangement was reasonable. It was. Then why did she feel
so let down, so disappointed?
Aileen shook her head as if to clear it. There was no
sense in brooding about the possibilities. She would have
to discuss the kind of marriage he wanted. But how? How
could she bring up the subject delicately? What kind of
marriage did she want? She didn't know. That was the
problem. She closed her eyes and sighed.
"Oh, grow up and handle it," she told herself. Aileen
rose, determined not to think about anything except fixing
dinner.
She didn't quite succeed, but she did manage to put a
meal on the table. Quint seemed to find it eminently edible,
even if she could do little more than stare at her food.
"This is good," he said, taking a second piece of fish.
"Aren't you hungry?"
"I guess not."
"Worried?"
"A little. Aren't you?"
Quint ignored her question. "Did you come up with an
alternate plan?" he asked.
"No.'
"Then we're getting married."
She merely nodded, for her mouth felt full of cotton,
making speech impossible.
"You agree we should do it as soon as possible?"
Aileen nodded again.
"How does Wednesday sound to you?" Quint saw the
color fade from her face. "I don't mean to rush you, but I
thought the whole idea was to beat the school board to the
draw. You know, act before they do. Like the military executing a preemptive strike. Was I wrong in assuming
that?"
She shook her head.
"Can you take Wednesday off?"
Aileen nodded. She moistened her lips. "I have a personal day left I can take."
"Good. Here's what we'll do. We'll drive to the county
seat, buy a license, and go to the justice of the peace for
the ceremony. I guess I better call and make an appointment."
"You have it all figured out. Have you done this before?"
"Me? No. No way," Quint said emphatically. "The only
reason I know about this stuff is that one of the hands on
the Three Pine Ranch got married."
"Did the marriage last?"
"Three years and going strong, last I heard. That's a year
longer than the boss's daughter, who got married with all
the usual hoopla that kept the whole household in an uproar
for six months and cost her father a fortune."
"And your point is?"
"That it isn't the kind of ceremony that you have that
determines whether a marriage succeeds or not."
Aileen considered this for a moment. "You're undoubtedly right."
"Look, Aileen, I'm pretty sure that going before the justice of the peace isn't the kind of ceremony you've dreamed
about. You probably wanted the bridesmaids, the reception,
and all the other trimmings that go along with a big shindig.
You think we could arrange something like that in a week's
time?"
"No. And it isn't necessary. A big wedding is to bring
the two families together. Neither one of us has any family."
"True." Quint studied her face for a moment. "What's
bothering you?"
"What do you think makes a marriage successful?"
"You're asking me?" Quint looked at her with a raised
eyebrow. "I was brought up by a single mom and a series
of institutions and foster homes, none of which I'd consider
a good model for marriage or family life. I'm hardly an
expert."
"But you sound as if you have definite opinions."
"I've thought some on the subject. Haven't you?"
"Some," Aileen admitted. She didn't tell him that her
idea of marriage hadn't progressed much beyond being
swept off her feet by an exciting man who loved her madly
and she him. Did this reveal a streak of immaturity in her?
Or was she a romantic at heart? Or was it simply that she
hadn't met a man who made her think seriously about marriage? Quint's voice interrupted her silent questions.
"Seems to me that the two people involved have to share
the same goals and expectations. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"We both want the Triangle B to succeed. Right?"
"Right." Aileen nodded to emphasize her agreement.
"To get the ranch back on a sound financial basis, we
have to pay off the mortgage and pay the IRS. And we
have to do this without taking out a loan or selling any
land. You agree?"
"Yes. But put like that, it sounds like an overwhelming
goal," Aileen said, valiantly suppressing a sigh.
Quint touched her hand in a reassuring gesture. "We're
not doing this all at once. We've got twenty years to pay
off the mortgage, so that's a long-term goal. And the IRS we'll take care of in a couple of years. It won't be easy,
but we can do it."
"So, shared goals and expectations are the most important factors in a good marriage?"
"They rank right up there. But other things are important
too. Getting along. Liking and respecting each other. Being
considerate."
"Sounds like you're describing friendship," Aileen said.
Quint's brow drew together in concentration. Then he
nodded. "It strikes me that successful marriage partners
have to be friends as well."
Quint hadn't said a thing about love. Probably just as
well, since the word had no part in their relationship. Still,
she couldn't repress the disappointment and sadness that
filled her. She had expected so much more when she married.
"You don't look the least bit enthusiastic. What's bothering you?" Quint wanted to know.
She couldn't tell him. She shrugged. "Nothing."
"That won't do, Aileen. We have to be honest. Otherwise
we have no chance."
"You're right." She took a deep breath. "What you're
saying is true, logical, rational, and, if you throw in a few
`parties of the first part' and `whereases,' it could be a
contract between business partners."
"We are business partners," Quint pointed out. "And a
marriage license is basically a contract."
Aileen bit her lip in frustration. He still hadn't said anything about the intimate part of marriage. Maybe he wasn't
interested. Maybe he was a cold man. No, she couldn't
have misread him that badly. The way he looked, that potent masculine aura that surrounded him, unmistakably suggested that he was a passionate man. Maybe she just didn't appeal to him. Or not enough for him to want her as a real
wife.
"I said we'll be business partners, but that's not all,"
Quint said.
"I know. You said you hoped we'd be friends."
"Yes, but that's not all either."
Aileen looked at Quint, waiting. He sat quietly, as if he
was mulling over what he wanted to say. This couldn't be
good. Aileen steeled herself.
"I like women."
This was worse than she had anticipated. He was about
to tell her that he'd have affairs. Aileen clenched her hands
into fists. "What are you trying to say, Quint? That from
time to time you'll have women on the side the way your
father did? But you'll be discreet?"
Quint plunked down his root beer can with a thud.
"What? Where do you come off assuming something like
this? I told you before-I'm nothing like Jack."
"So you say! But I don't really know you. Why don't
you just tell me what you expect."
He took an audible breath to calm himself. "All right. I
was going to say that we've already made a commitment
to hard work and simple living to save the ranch, remember?"
"Yes. For the next two years."
"Right. So, for those two years we'll share the house as
we have in the past. My bedroom downstairs, yours upstairs. We'll be faithful to our vows. No cheating. For either
of us. If, after that time, you want out because you've got
your eye on someone else, we can talk about it."
Aileen stared at him.
Quint rubbed his chin, feeling suddenly unsure. "Look,
I'm giving you an out. If you want it. After our financial
situation has improved."
"That goes both ways."
He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess it does. Anyway, two years
is a long time. Who knows what can happen in that time?"
He smiled at her. "Is there anything else you're wondering
about?"
Aileen shook her head. She did wonder what he meant
by that, Who knows what can happen in that time? statement, but decided not to ask. She didn't think she was up
to any more prodigious surprises and changes in her life.