A Stubborn Painter’s Fake Courtship – Extended Epilogue

Four months Later

“Are you certain the lavender ribbons look right with my hair? I’m afraid they clash terribly,” Addy fretted, studying her reflection in the looking glass.

“They’re perfect,” Jenny assured her, adjusting one of the satin ribbons woven through Addy’s copper curls. “The color brings out the green in your eyes.”

Matilda dabbed at her own eyes with a handkerchief. “You look absolutely radiant, Adelaide. I never thought I’d see the day when my headstrong daughter would be preparing for her wedding.”

Addy turned from the mirror and smiled at her mother and friend. The three women were gathered in her bedroom, preparing for the ceremony that would take place in just two hours. She and Giles had decided on an early autumn wedding, allowing Jenny and Hank to enjoy their status as the town’s newest newlyweds through the summer months. But they hadn’t wanted to wait too long, not with William Madison’s health continuing to decline despite occasional rallies.

“Do you think Giles will like the dress?” Addy asked, smoothing her hands over the ivory silk. It was simpler than what Kenyon Starr would have demanded—a modest creation with delicate lace at the collar and cuffs, and a skirt that fell in gentle folds rather than an ostentatious bustle.

“He’ll be struck speechless,” Jenny declared, adjusting the veil that lay waiting on the bed. “Though knowing you two, you’ll find some way to bicker before the ceremony ends.”

Addy laughed, feeling some of her nervousness dissipate. “Probably. It seems to be what we do best.”

Matilda began fussing with the flowers that would form Addy’s bouquet—cream-colored roses with sprigs of lavender, mirroring the ribbons in her hair. “We should decide on the final arrangement,” she said, her voice slightly higher than usual. “And we need to check that your father is properly dressed. And the refreshments—”

“Mother,” Addy interrupted gently, “everything is going to be perfect. But would you mind terribly checking that the parlor is arranged as we discussed? And Jenny, perhaps you could help her? I need a moment to collect myself.”

The two women exchanged knowing glances.

“Of course, dear,” Matilda said, kissing her daughter’s cheek. “Come find us when you’re ready.”

“Don’t disappear on us,” Jenny teased. “No riding off on one of your father’s horses to escape your fate.”

When they had gone, Addy sat at her dressing table and took a deep breath. So much had changed in the past months. She thought of the engagement party where this all began—how she’d fled to avoid Nelson Taylor, how she’d bristled at the mere sight of Giles Madison. If someone had told her then that she would be marrying him come autumn, she would have laughed in their face.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes?” she called, expecting her mother or Jenny to have returned.

The door creaked open to reveal her father. Robert Jefferson stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking uncomfortable in his Sunday best.

“May I come in, Addy?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.

Addy nodded, surprised. Since the breaking of her engagement to Kenyon Starr, her father had been distant and withdrawn. He had made himself scarce whenever Giles visited, too ashamed to face the man who had—though Robert didn’t know it—saved them all from financial ruin.

“You look beautiful,” he said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “Just like your mother did on our wedding day.”

Addy felt her throat tighten. “Thank you,” she managed.

Robert Jefferson approached slowly, as if afraid she might send him away. “I’ve been a poor excuse for a father these past months,” he said quietly. “I don’t expect you to forgive me easily, but I wanted you to know… I’m sorry, Addy. For everything.”

Addy couldn’t speak, her emotions tangled in her throat. Part of her wanted to embrace her father, while another part remembered the anguish he had caused her.

“I know I’ve no right to ask for your forgiveness,” Robert continued, his voice thick. “What I did—selling you like cattle to settle my gambling debts—it was unforgivable. A father should protect his daughter, not use her as currency.”

He took a shaky breath, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ve been too ashamed to face Giles. Too ashamed to face myself, if I’m being honest. But I couldn’t let this day pass without telling you how proud I am of the woman you’ve become, Addy.”

“Proud?” she echoed, finding her voice at last. “You once called my painting childish, a waste of time.”

Robert nodded, accepting the accusation. “I was wrong. Your talent is extraordinary, just like your spirit. I hope…” he faltered, “I hope that Giles will be a better husband to you than I’ve been a father.”

The raw honesty in his voice broke through the wall Addy had built around her heart. She stood and crossed the room to where her father stood, still a commanding figure despite the humility that now bent his shoulders.

“I love Giles,” she said simply. “And he loves me—not as a possession or a means to an end, but for who I am.”

“As it should be,” Robert agreed. “You deserve nothing less.”

Addy studied her father’s face, seeing the lines that worry and shame had carved there over the past months. The engagement to Kenyon Starr had nearly destroyed her, but it had broken something in her father too. Perhaps they both needed healing.

“I forgive you, Father,” she said softly.

Robert’s eyes widened. “Addy, you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.” She took his hands in hers. “This is my wedding day. A new beginning. I don’t want to carry old hurts into my marriage.”

A tear escaped and rolled down Robert’s weathered cheek. “You’ve more grace than I deserve, daughter.”

“Perhaps,” she agreed with a hint of her old spirit. “But what’s a father to do with a willful daughter like me?”

He laughed then, a genuine sound she hadn’t heard in months. “Indeed, what is he to do?” He squeezed her hands gently. “May I walk you down the aisle, Addy? If you’d prefer Lucas or—”

“I want you to walk me down the aisle,” she interrupted. “Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“No more gambling. Not a single hand of cards or roll of dice.”

Robert’s expression grew solemn. “I haven’t set foot in that place since the night they turned me away. And I never will again.” He didn’t know that his banishment had been part of Giles’s deal with Burke Starr, but the promise was genuine nonetheless.

A knock at the door announced Matilda’s return. “Adelaide? It’s nearly time—” She stopped short upon seeing her husband. “Robert, I didn’t know you were here.”

“I came to speak with our daughter,” he said, straightening his shoulders. “And to ask her forgiveness.”

Matilda’s eyes filled with tears as she looked between them. “And?”

Addy smiled. “Father will be walking me down the aisle.”

The relief on her mother’s face was palpable. “Thank goodness. I was worried I’d have to find Lucas at the last minute.” She bustled into the room, her earlier anxiety seemingly forgotten. “Now, let’s get that veil on you. The guests are arriving, and your groom is already pacing a trench in the floor of the parlor.”

“Is he nervous?” Addy asked, feeling her own butterflies return.

Robert chuckled. “If he’s half as nervous as I was on my wedding day, he’s probably considering a mad dash for the border.”

“Robert!” Matilda scolded, but her eyes were smiling.

“But he won’t run,” Robert continued, his voice softening. “Not when he’s waiting for you.”

Across town at the Madison ranch, Giles stood before the mirror in his father’s bedroom, struggling with his cravat. “It’s impossible,” he muttered, undoing it for the third time.

“Here, let me help you with that,” William Madison said from his chair by the window. Though frail, he had insisted on getting dressed and being present for his son’s wedding.

Giles turned to his father. “I can’t seem to get it right today.”

“Wedding nerves,” William said with a knowing smile. “Come here.”

Giles crossed the room and knelt before his father’s chair, allowing the older man to take the ends of the cravat in his hands. Despite his weakened state, William’s fingers moved with practiced ease.

“There,” he said when he had finished. “Every bit the gentleman.”

“Thank you, Pa.” Giles stood and adjusted his vest. “Are you certain you feel up to this? We could have held the ceremony here…”

William waved away his concern. “And deny Addy her proper wedding? Not a chance. Besides, the Jefferson home is larger and better suited for guests.” His eyes twinkled. “And I wouldn’t miss seeing my son married for all the gold in California.”

Giles smiled, though worry still creased his brow. His father’s health had been declining steadily over the summer, with brief periods of improvement that gave them hope, only to be followed by days when he could barely leave his bed. Today was one of his better days, thank God.

“I never thought I’d see you standing before me on your wedding day,” William admitted. “Not with how adamantly you opposed the idea of marriage.”

“I was a fool,” Giles said simply.

“No,” William replied. “Just waiting for the right woman.” He paused, his expression growing more serious. “Did I ever tell you that I once fancied myself a confirmed bachelor?”

Giles blinked in surprise. “You? But you and Mother…”

“Yes, your mother changed everything.” William’s eyes took on a faraway look. “I was convinced that marriage would interfere with my ambitions, that a wife would be a burden rather than a blessing.” He chuckled. “And then I met Elizabeth at a harvest dance, and all my grand plans for solitude seemed suddenly hollow.”

“You never told me that,” Giles said, pulling up a chair to sit beside his father.

“It wasn’t a story I thought you needed to hear—until now.” William reached out to straighten his son’s collar. “Sometimes the heart knows better than the head, Giles. I’m proud that you had the wisdom to recognize that before it was too late.”

“I nearly lost her,” Giles admitted. “If I hadn’t paid those debts…”

“But you did,” William interrupted. “And not just because you wanted to spare her a loveless marriage, but because you truly love her.” He squeezed Giles’s hand. “I hope your marriage brings you the same joy mine brought me. There’s no greater blessing than loving and being loved in return.”

A knock on the door interrupted them. Hank poked his head in. “The buckboard is ready whenever you are, Mr. Madison.”

“Thank you, Hank,” William replied. “We’ll be down shortly.”

When Hank had gone, Giles helped his father to his feet. “Lean on me, Pa.”

“Just a bit,” William agreed. “I want to walk into that ceremony on my own two feet, even if I need to sit right after.”

Together, they made their way slowly down the stairs, William pausing occasionally to catch his breath. Outside, Hank had arranged pillows in the buckboard to make the ride as comfortable as possible for the elder Madison.

As they traveled toward the Jefferson ranch, William gazed at the autumn landscape. “Beautiful day for a wedding,” he remarked. “The Lord has blessed you with fine weather.”

“I’ll consider myself blessed if I don’t trip over my words during the ceremony,” Giles replied, only half-joking.

William laughed. “You’ll do fine. Just look at Addy and forget everyone else is there.”

The Jefferson ranch came into view, decorated with autumn flowers and ribbons for the occasion. Several buckboards and horses were already tethered outside, indicating that many of the guests had arrived.

“Are you ready, son?” William asked as Hank brought their vehicle to a stop.

Giles took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Inside the Jefferson home, the ceremony proceeded with a simple elegance that suited both bride and groom. When Addy appeared on her father’s arm, a collective murmur of appreciation rippled through the gathered guests. Her dress complemented her slender figure perfectly, and the copper of her hair gleamed beneath the veil like autumn leaves catching the sun.

Giles, standing before Reverend Kirkendorf, felt his breath catch in his throat. The nervous anticipation that had plagued him all morning vanished at the sight of her. In that moment, he knew with absolute certainty that this—she—was what he had been waiting for all his life.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Reverend Kirkendorf declared, his voice carrying through the Jefferson parlor. “Mr. Madison, you may kiss your bride.”

Giles lifted Addy’s veil with trembling hands. The teasing words he’d prepared—something about finally finding a way to silence her quick retorts—died on his lips at the sight of her radiant face. Instead, he simply leaned forward and kissed her, a brief but tender gesture that promised a lifetime of devotion.

The celebration that followed was joyous but intimate. Tables had been set up in the yard beneath a canopy of autumn leaves. Lanterns stood ready to illuminate the gathering once dusk fell. The community’s finest dishes graced the tables, contributed by friends and neighbors in the tradition of Dorada.

“You haven’t stopped smiling all day,” Addy observed as she and Giles accepted congratulations from well-wishers. “It’s almost unnerving.”

“Would you prefer I scowl?” he teased, squeezing her hand where it rested in the crook of his arm.

“Not at all. I’m merely documenting this unprecedented phenomenon for future reference.”

“Mrs. Madison,” he whispered, leaning close to her ear, “if you continue to be this impertinent, I may have to steal you away from our own celebration.”

“Is that a promise?” she whispered back, a blush coloring her cheeks.

Before he could respond, Jenny approached with Hank beside her. “We couldn’t be happier for you both,” she said, embracing Addy warmly.

“Though I still say Giles got the better end of the bargain,” Hank added with a grin.

“On that point, we are in complete agreement,” Giles replied, his eyes never leaving Addy’s face.

The afternoon wore on pleasantly, with music and dancing, laughter and conversation. William Madison held court from his chair, regaling younger guests with tales of Dorada’s early days. Robert Jefferson, after an initial awkwardness, found himself drawn into conversation with his new son-in-law, the two men reaching a tentative understanding.

As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, Giles caught Addy’s eye across the yard and nodded slightly toward the house. She excused herself from a conversation with Matilda and several church ladies and made her way to him.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Not at all,” he said, taking her hand. “I just wanted a moment alone with my wife before the sun sets on our wedding day.”

“Your wife,” she repeated, the words still new and wondrous on her tongue. “I suppose I am, aren’t I?”

“Indeed you are.” He led her toward the house. “And I have something to show you.”

“Giles, we can’t just disappear from our own wedding celebration,” she protested halfheartedly.

“They’ll hardly notice we’re gone,” he assured her. “Look, your mother is deep in conversation with Mrs. Kirkendorf, and my father appears to be regaling half the town with stories of his youth.”

Inside the house, away from the cheerful noise of the celebration, a peaceful quiet enveloped them. Giles led her up the stairs, past her old bedroom, and toward a room at the end of the hall that had previously been used for storage.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed.

“Giles—”

“Please, Addy. Humor me just this once.”

With a theatrical sigh, she complied. She heard the door open, felt him guide her forward a few steps, and then his hands left her shoulders.

“You can open them now.”

Addy opened her eyes and gasped. The former storage room had been transformed into a bright, airy studio. Large windows along the north wall provided ideal natural light. A sturdy easel stood in the center of the room, surrounded by a worktable laden with new brushes, paints, and canvases. Several of her completed paintings had been framed and hung on the walls.

“Giles,” she breathed, too overwhelmed to say more.

“I had Lucas and Hank help me set it up last week while you were visiting Jenny,” he explained. “Your mother suggested which of your paintings to frame, and—”

His words were cut off as Addy threw her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that conveyed everything she couldn’t yet put into words.

When they finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against his. “No one has ever believed in me the way you do,” she whispered.

“I want you to keep painting, Addy,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “I never want you to feel that you need to choose between being my wife and being an artist. Both are who you are.”

She gazed around the studio, her green eyes shining with unshed tears. “Even after all these months, you still manage to surprise me.”

“I hope to continue doing so for the next fifty years,” he replied.

They moved to the window, watching as the setting sun bathed the landscape in golden light. The sounds of their wedding celebration drifted up from the yard—laughter, music, the clinking of glasses.

“Do you regret that we didn’t elope?” Giles asked, his arm around her waist.

Addy shook her head. “No. These past months have been difficult, but I wouldn’t change how things turned out.” She turned to face him. “That day in the general store, when Mrs. Bennett wouldn’t let me take the tea set home—as humiliating as it was, I’m grateful for it now.”

“You’re grateful that I witnessed your humiliation?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m grateful that it led us here,” she corrected. “Though at the time, I could have happily pushed you into a water trough.”

Giles laughed, drawing her closer. “My impetuous, talented, exasperating wife.”

“My arrogant, generous, surprising husband,” she countered, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

As the sun slipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the land, the newlyweds stood framed in the window of Addy’s studio, their silhouettes merging into one. Below them, lanterns were being lit in the yard, extending the celebration into the evening. But up in their private sanctuary, Addy and Giles savored a moment of perfect understanding—the first of many to come in their shared life.

In the deepening twilight, Addy thought of all the scenes she would paint in this room: the changing seasons, the life they would build together, the children they might have. And though she couldn’t see the future with certainty, she knew one thing beyond doubt—whatever canvas awaited her, it would be more beautiful for having Giles beside her as she painted it.

THE END