Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip, wide blue eyes staring back at him.

For a second, Matthew regretted his request. Not only was he not in a position to make demands, asking a complete stranger to be his wife in every sense of the word, was the most ridiculous thing he could have ever said.

Still, he didn't want to promise her celibacy for the rest of their married life; that was just not going to be feasible. Sure, they wouldn't be getting married because they loved each other, but at least they could form some sort of bond in the coming years, couldn't they? Unless of course, her plan was to run off once she had what it was she wanted from him? His gaze ran down the length of her —what did she want? Perhaps her plan was to steal from him and run off to a place she would be independent of her gambling father, and Jenkins who seemed incapable of leaving her alone?

He didn't have much money, if that was her plan. He was not only behind on the payment of his farmhands, but he was also behind on paying the complete price for the farm. If her plan was to use him and ditch him, then he might as well make it very clear to her, the futility of that plan.

“I am a farmer in debt —a lot of debt. My inheritance is the only way of coming out of it, and even then, it will barely be enough to keep my head afloat. I might be forced to marry now due to my present circumstances, but I am also in need of a strong,” His eyes drifted to her hands that hung loosely by her sides. Her fingernails might have been devoid of sand, but it was apparent to him from their jagged state, that her hands were accustomed to hard work. “Reliable woman,” he met her eyes, his brow raised. He would make it clear to her that he might be desperate, but not enough to marry a deceptive, gold hunting woman, “capable of handling the affairs of a farm, and perhaps bearing children.” He squared his jaw, also making it clear that his marriage would not be in name only.

She folded her arms, anger glistening in her eyes. “Well, mister, I will assure you right this moment that I am indeed strong —I cared for my sick mother until she passed, and have been the sole provider for my father since I was fifteen. I am also reliable —I have not touched a single dime of Mr. Hank's fortune since I came here to work for him. I have never handled the affairs of a farm in my life, but perhaps I shall not do too poorly. As for the potency of my uterus, sir, I am truly uncertain.”

Heat rapidly climbed up the side of Matthew's neck, setting his entire face on fire. Clearing his throat nervously, he glanced down briefly at his dusty shoes, embarrassed and shocked by her plain words. Perhaps he shouldn't be? He was the one who indirectly called her lazy and dishonest, while shamelessly making plain his intention to bed her.

“Will that be all?”

He raised his eyes. She stood before him, arms folded, brow raised. “W-what?” He asked.

“Will that be all the requirements you need for a wife, or would you like to take my uterus on a test ride before taking me to the courthouse?”

Beyond embarrassed, his cheeks immediately warmed, and in that second he considered turning around and walking away from the pretty blonde head with a big mouth on her. But what choice did he have? He was stuck between marrying her, or losing his farm —and independence— forever. Even now, he could feel the letter he had written to his father that morning, admitting defeat, seated snugly in his breast pocket.

He straightened. “Rather than a test ride, how about a proper introduction?” He held out his hand to her. “I am Matthew Steiner, a pitiable excuse for a farmer.”

She stood still for several seconds, her eyes fixed on his outstretched hand. “Sharon,” She finally said, placing her hand on the tip of his fingers. “Freelance,” She withdrew her hand after only a second of touching his, “unfortunate daughter of a pitiable excuse for a father.”

“Just so we are on the same page, Blondie,” he said, choosing to use his own special name for her, rather than the name given to her by a father she was obviously ashamed of. “Will you marry me?”

She shrugged. “Yes, but I do not promise you will ever possess my heart, Matthew Steiner.”

~*~

It should not bother him, Matthew told himself all through that morning —through the exchange of their vows and signing of their marriage certificate, through the ride back to the farm, through showing Sharon around the house. Her declaration of never loving him shouldn't bother him. What did he expect from a woman who was practically pushed to the corner and forced to marry a man? Certainly love would be the last thing she would be willing to give.

He did not love her either. He certainly would not have chosen her to get married to if he sincerely believed he had a choice. Theirs was a loveless marriage, borne out of necessity —necessity and convenience.

That afternoon, they both sat at the table in the kitchen, Sharon's eyes fixed on her plate as she nibbled lazily on her chicken. It appeared to him that she was making it a point of duty to avoid him. He found that he also didn't feel like speaking, nor did he have anything to say. Perhaps he even preferred the silence to her jabbing words? Perhaps he would rather sit here with a cold plate of food before him, rather than listen to his wife speak of never loving him? It was a bitter pill to swallow and it wasn't until he was crawling into bed after a long day of her words haunting him, that he decided he was not going to swallow it. No, he would send a message to his father the next morning, informing him of his marriage, and once he has come into his inheritance, he would be sure to let her know she was welcome to leave; he would not live with a woman unwilling to yield her heart to him, he just couldn't do it.

Turning his back to her, he settled on the far end of the bed and stared at the dark clouds through the window, failing to fall asleep.

~*~

Sharon settled on the unfamiliar bed, her eyelids pulling shut the second she heard the door click open and the sound of his heavy boots against the wooden floors reached her. A slight shiver raced down her spine as he neared, her mind dreading what she knew was coming —tonight was their first night as a married couple, and he already made his requirements for their marriage very clear.

The mattress sank under his weight, her heartbeat tripling in speed as her fingers instinctively clutched the neckline of her nightdress —the same nightdress she had woken up in two days before. Even now, she wondered who the outdated thing belonged to. Perhaps it belonged to his first wife? The thought brought a small frown to her face. Perhaps he was married once in the past, and something happened to the poor thing?

She shook her head; she was being silly. Matthew was certainly not past the age of twenty three, and the chances of him ever being married in the past seemed quite slim to her. Although, there was not many things she knew about him. As a matter of fact, she knew nothing about him.

A few seconds passed, and his weight finally spread out on the bed. Fully expecting him to reach for her, she let out a shaky breath; she would let him do whatever he wanted and would refrain from fighting him, even if she knew it would close the door to any hope of Independence and freedom she thought she would ever have when she turned eighteen. If she was unfortunate enough to get pregnant, she would forever be doomed to stay married to him and raise his children.

The very thought of it brought tears to her eyes. She did not want to remain trapped for the rest of her life, deprived of the chance of finding love for herself and being free from the bondage of the men who sought to control her life.

“Are you alright?” His words broke through her weary mind.

She stiffened when she felt him lean close.

“Blondie?” He touched her shoulder. “Forgive my intrusion, but I can't help but notice the sounds you're making can only mean you're crying.”

The gentility of his voice and the odd sensation of comfort his hand on her shoulder brought, did nothing but infuriate her. She was not alright! And how dare he try to feign ignorance of the fact that he was a major reason for her pain?! How dare he act like he didn't know she loathed being married to him?!

Shrugging his hand off, she turned fully to him. “I am not alright!” She blurted. “You do not possibly expect me to act like I'm happy to be here, do you?!” She swept her tears away impatiently, climbing out of the bed. “I do not wish to be here —to be in your home, and play the role of a submissive wife!” It was a terrible decision, one she made out of desperation. If only she had thought it through, perhaps then she would have concluded that Jenkins wasn't really a problem? She could have resisted Jenkins and maybe even report him to the Sheriff. “Just leave me alone, will you? Leave me alone and mind your business!” There, she said it —she would not offer her body to him for she wished to be left alone.

She angrily made her way to the door, her fingers barely settling on the knob when something took her wrist captive and whirled her around.

Her eyes immediately came to rest on Matthew's eyes glistening with frustration.

“You, Blondie, are my wife,” his face crumbled into a frown, “an unfortunate arrangement, but an arrangement nonetheless. You are my wife, and that makes you my business.” He bit out, releasing her wrist, “but I shall not force you to play the role of my wife.” He said, before turning to walk past her.

Spinning around just as he reached the door and pulled it open, she called after his retreating back, “where are you going?!”

He paused, his back tensed. “This is the best room in the building, it is yours,” making his way out, she heard his soft whisper before the door closed behind him, “until you're ready to leave.”