Jacob looked back at Megan. “You’re Estelle? You’re the one marrying my brother?”

“No, no,” Megan said. “This is Estelle. I’m Megan. I’m her maid of honor.”

Jacob couldn’t keep the smile hidden any longer. It was restrained, but impossible to deny.

“You’ll be attending, I assume,” Estelle said.

Jacob became shy real quickly, looking down at his feet. “I’d like to, but I’m not sure I have anything to wear.”

“You’re not going to your own brother’s wedding?” Megan asked.

“You’re welcome to go into town a bit early and pick up a suit,” Michael said. “Maybe get yourself a shave and haircut while you’re there.”

“Yes, yes,” Jacob said. “That’s a good idea.”

“Well, we should probably leave you be,” Michael said. “There’s plenty more to do around here.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Jacob said.

“It was very nice meeting you, too,” Megan said.

Sometimes, life was full of surprises. Michael wanted a wife in part because he wanted someone to spend his days with, since the relationship he had with his brother was strained. But maybe, he thought, just maybe, having a wife would help mend his and Jacob’s relationship, too.

Chapter Five

There was a back room in the chapel where Estelle could get dressed and, for the first time, Megan got to see her in the dress. It was a beautiful thing, full of embellishments that complemented Estelle’s figure. Megan had always been aware of Estelle’s pretty features, but with the dress and just a touch of powder along with some color for her lips, she became an absolute princess.

“He’s a very lucky man,” Megan said.

Estelle looked at herself in the mirror and smiled: She looked better than she could possibly imagine. It was almost like looking at someone else. “You did a lovely job with my hair,” she said.

“It’s not the hair. Or the powdering or the lip shade, for that matter, and both you and I know that. It’s you. You’re beautiful,” Megan said.

Estelle didn’t respond, but she did like hearing it. She only hoped that Michael would feel the same way.

“What do you think of him?” Megan asked.

“Who?”

“Who do you think? Michael. Your husband-to-be.”

Estelle hadn’t actually asked herself that. She was so consumed by the ranch and the landscapes that she didn’t even think to consider the man that she would be attaching herself to and spending the rest of her life with and likely having children with.

“I don’t know him,” Estelle said. “I can get impressions of people when I meet them, though. With Ethan, I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him that he was not somebody I would ever want to be with. I didn’t get that feeling with Michael.”

“What feeling did you get?”

Estelle thought for a second. She knew she felt attraction, but many men were attractive. At the same time, it was different than the attraction she had felt to men back home, with their clean-cut hair and well-ironed outfits. With Michael, there was a natural attraction to him, as if he wasn’t putting anything on. It wasn’t better or worse, necessarily, but it was new and she didn’t know what to make of it.

But Megan wasn’t going to let her get by without an answer, so Estelle gave her one. “What I felt was comfort. He seems kind and caring and, above all else, genuine. I like that he cares for his brother and I like that he has such a positive outlook on life.”

“Do you think you could love him?” It was a bold question, direct and exactly what Estelle feared. She truly did want to love him in that she wanted to be married to someone she loved, though with Michael, she felt she could share a life with him even if they didn’t truly love each other.

“I’m unsure if I’m capable of love, at least as I understand it. I’ve read in books of women who want nothing more than to stay inside and serve their husbands. If that’s what love is, then it’s not for me. We spoke of this in the letters. Love is not what we’re after and, for that reason, I believe we are a fine match.”

Megan offered Estelle a coy smile. “What do you think of Jacob?”

Estelle cringed a bit at the question. “He seems to have suffered quite a lot over the past few years.”