"But why?" she wailed.
"Because I married you in front of all those people, and you can't run out and leave me to explain this. I'd be the laughing stock of this town if anyone knew this. Look, I'm a damned good rancher, I work hard for all I get, and I've earned the respect of this community. But a man doesn't allow others to laugh at him about women. Not out here."
"Well it was plain as day that it was your fault," she declared loudly.
"It doesn't matter whose fault it is. Why didn't you object when I hauled you to the church. Why didn't you throw a fit, make a scene like any normal woman would have?"
"The truth?" she realized she had blurted that out.
"Yes." He insisted.
"Because you kept kissing me. And I was plum discombobbled."
"Discombobbled?" he laughed despite himself. "Where the hell did that come from?"
"My Irish parents, I suppose. What other word do you use when someone sweeps you off your feet so unexpectedly and kisses you like there's no tomorrow?"
"You liked my kisses, I take it?"
"I'm not used to being kissed sir."
"You expect me to believe that? You sure know how to respond."
"Well, of course I do. You were a total stranger and you kissed me, in broad daylight, like you meant it. Things like that don't happen to normal people. That only happens in dreams."
"My kisses bothered you?" he asked with a sarcastic smile.
"They didn't bother me, but they—"
"They what?"
"Never mind, how long will I have to continue this charade?" She asked.
"I wouldn't call it a charade, we are married. Until I can come up with a plausible explanation as to why I married you by mistake." He told her.
"Can't you just talk to a judge and get it annulled?"
"Then what do I tell the entire community here that I didn't know you weren't my bride? That you couldn't speak up about who you were? Who would believe either of us?"
She set her valises down and stared, her hands going to her chest. "I find it hard to believe that a man like you would marry someone he only corresponded with."
He nodded and lit a cigar. "It's simple. I'm a rancher, a very busy rancher. I didn't have the time to court a lady proper and there was no one around that I cared to pay court to. So, I read an advertisement about women who wanted to marry but were basically in the same position as I, unable to find suitable mates. I joined this list and wrote a few women. Pricilla's letters were unique, and I kept writing to her. People around here kept badgering me to get myself a wife. So, I asked her. That sums it up."
"But you never met her in person."
"No, I haven't."
"I find it hard to believe that a man that is slow to trust, would just marry a woman he'd never even met."
"I guess I did trust her. I wrote her for two years."
"What if she sent you a picture of someone else, I had a cousin did that and when the man saw her, he rejected her, she cried for a month." Trudy told him.
He stared at her now, "I guess that's possible too. Although I admit I never even considered it. Out here good women are scarce. I wanted a lady, but I knew very few and most were already married. It's not unheard of to write to a woman."
"You don't trust, yet you trusted her letters." She shook her head. "Letters can be deceiving."
"The way I felt a letter is something you put your heart into. I'll admit I'm not the best at courting in any manner. A man knows where to get what he wants when he wants it. I never had or took the time to court anyone. I'm just too busy."