Prologue
Near Stevensville, Montana Territory — 1870
Four weeks before Christmas
“Please, Phineas! Open the door! I beg of you!” Madelaine pulled at her older cousin’s sleeve. She was desperately trying to persuade Phineas to let her little sister, Belle, go. She was just a toddler, not even two and half years old yet, and she had been screaming at the top of her lungs since he’d locked her in that room hours ago.
It was still quite early in the day—the late November sun had just started to peek over the mountain tops in the east, but the rays had not yet reached this side of the house. Madelaine increasingly worried that her little sister could get sick due to the cold in that room. Since Phineas had started his little game right after breakfast, he hadn’t let anybody in there to attend Belle, not even to top up the fire for her.
Phineas didn’t move an inch. He remained standing in front of the door, smugly swinging the large key around his finger, gleefully chuckling to himself as if this was some sort of joke.
Sadly, none of his behavior came as a surprise to Madelaine. She knew Phineas to be a rather coldhearted human being. He did not care about the small child locked in that roombehind him, and it reminded her why she needed to find a way out of their dire situation as quickly as possible.
As she stared up at him, his dark eyes seemed as black as tar, much like his thinning hair. Furious heat rose to her cheeks, but she fought hard not to show her feelings.
Madelaine also knew that she had to stay calm for Simon, her seven-year-old little brother, who stood directly behind her, hiding in the folds of her skirt, quietly sobbing. She felt for his head, gently stroking his soft, light-brown curls to reassure him.
She sent a silent prayer to the heavens, hoping that her cousin would tire of this ridiculous little game.
“Please! She’s been in there too long already! What do I have to do to convince you?” she asked, hating that she needed to plead.
“I don’t care about that brat!” Phineas’ breath stank of tobacco and alcohol as he spit those words right into Madelaine’s face. “All I care about is the wedding tomorrow! Do you remember our wedding, my dear?” In the blink of an eye, his tone of voice switched from spiteful to playful, but she heard the sarcastic bite regardless.
The wedding.
Theirwedding…
How on Earth had she landed in such a mess?
Since the tragic deaths of both of her parents a few months ago, Madelaine’s life had been turned upside down, and her beautiful, peaceful existence, her entire world, had been uprooted and smashed to smithereens. Everything was still so raw, and she had to blink away the sudden moisture in her eyes.
Phineas stared at Madelaine questioningly, one eyebrow slightly raised. There was no question that he thought of her as a beautiful woman, with big green eyes and luscious curves, because he had told her this when he’d announced his plans to wed her. She wore her glossy black hair tightly pulled back in a neat bun at her nape, which showed off her elegant neck and shoulders. She wasn’t particularly tall, but he probably thought that it was perfect, since he wasn’t particularly tall himself.
His arrogant smirk was still there, albeit seemingly less certain.
She remembered his question and tried to put on something that resembled a smile. “Of course, I do remember! How could I forget such an important day, silly?! Now, please be so kind and open the door, would you?” Madelaine’s lighthearted approach to jest with him fell flat when Phineas showed no reaction.
“How will I know that you’ll show up?” He pulled his face into an angry scowl. “I need some kind of guarantee that you’llstick to our plan, woman!” He made a disgusting noise in the back of his throat and then spit something sideways onto the floor.
Madelaine could barely control the nausea at his dismissive display.
“I have half a mind to leave that brat in there until she cries herself to sleep, just to make sure that you’ll show up tomorrow…” Phineas spat.
“No!” Madelaine did what she had hoped she wouldn’t have to do and let herself fall onto her knees, right at his feet. “Please, let me get Belle out of that room! I promise, I will be there tomorrow! Please, Phineas! Open the door!”
“Be quiet!” Phineas yelled louder than Belle and Madelaine combined, took a step backwards, and dramatically covered his ears with both hands. “Quit your nagging! I’ll open the blasted door! You better make sure to show up tomorrow, or else!”
As she got up to her feet, she felt a certain fear deep in her heart. She really didn’t want to challenge God’s plan for her, but she also didn’t want to marry the horrible man standing in front of her.
The whole wedding had been his idea, but not at all out of love for her. Phineas didn’t even attempt to hide histrue intentions. He wanted the ranch. The beautiful home her father had built, his successful business, the land—everything Madelaine had inherited after her parents’ tragic passing in a train crash earlier in the year. In Phineas’ mind, he would get his hands on everything if he were to marry her. But Madelaine wasn’t naïve. She knew his game and didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.
The minute Phineas had shown up at the ranch five weeks ago, unannounced and uninvited, she’d known that things would become even more difficult for her than they’d already been. She’d been hopeful and expected him to leave after a few days of filling his belly, but instead, he’d decided to make his home here.
He’d immediately taken over everything. He even had the audacity to sleep in her parents’ old bedroom, wearing her father’s old clothes without asking. Just two days after his unwelcome arrival, Phineas boldly announced at dinner that he would marry her very soon, and that he was in charge of the ranch now.
Granted, he’d been drunk, but she’d heeded the warning, nonetheless. The only problem was, she had no idea what to do about it, or even where to begin.
Worst of all, since his announcement, he’d made her life even more miserable, pestering her every single day, and it threatened to pull her into a rather dark place more and more.
