Chapter 1

Intro:

At two in the morning, a blogger I follow suddenly posted something new.

【Day 1699 of Loving Little Delma Colton】:

"The wild mare left the prairie, and somehow she isn't so special anymore. She's untamable, and I regret it."

"My parents are pushing me into a family marriage alliance, but the truth is, I've fallen for her. Our families are well matched, and I'm going to get engaged. She's gentle and knows her manners. She's the wife I always dreamed of."

"I can give Delma everything except a name."

The comment section had already broken into an argument, and he deleted the post soon after.

But my face was wet with tears.

This was Douglas Sanchez's account, one I'd stumbled across by chance, and it had gone on recording our meeting on the prairie, day after day.

I am the Delma in the story. I am the wild mare of the prairie.

The 1699th day since I met Douglas Sanchez, and the 365th day since we promised to marry, and he is about to get engaged to someone else.

Fine, then. On our prairie, when a wild mare loses her home, she simply finds another pasture to settle in.

...

The light on the ceiling flickered on and off. I opened the skylight, and the stars were still shining, but the view wasn't as vast as it had been on the prairie.

The sky in the city was too narrow. High-rises stood packed together, sealing off all my old, unbound horizons.

That deleted screenshot on my phone, I looked at it over and over the whole night.

That light, offhand line of Douglas's was like a fine needle, pricking dense and deep into my flesh and bone, aching without a sound.

He regretted falling in love with this untamable wild mare. He regretted taking me off the prairie.

Day broke, and Douglas pushed the door open quietly and came in.

He wore a well-cut couture suit, cool and refined all over, while the clothes on me had washed pale. Maybe I really wasn't enough.

Douglas came to my side, lifting a hand to smooth back the loose strands at my forehead as if it were nothing:

"Why are you up so early? Didn't you sleep well?"

I looked up at him, and my eyes went red before I could stop them:

"Our wedding, is it going to be pushed back a while longer?"

His fingertips paused, and something reluctant crossed his eyes:

"Delma, Mother hasn't been well lately, so there's no time to plan the wedding for now. It works out. You can use this time to get used to each other a little more. She'll come to like you."

I stayed silent and didn't answer.

Douglas bent down and held me, his chin resting lightly on the top of my head:

"Don't sulk, all right? I know you're not used to life here. Bear with it a little longer. What do you want? Jewelry, a bag, a house? I can give you any of it."

Still I said nothing.

Douglas lowered his head, kissed my forehead, and sighed softly:

"You're so different from before."

"Your color's been bad all this time. Don't shut yourself in the house. Go take up riding again when you have the time. I still remember how you looked galloping across the prairie back then. You were dazzling."

His gentle words pulled open a sealed-away memory.

That year the rainy season flooded the marshes, and Douglas was saving a wild hare from the jaws of a mastiff when he sank into the mire.

I rushed in with my little horse without a second thought to pull him out, and the enraged mastiff lunged and drove its fangs clean through my calf.

Medical care on the prairie was crude, and the wound got infected and never healed properly.

From then on my left leg carried the damage. Whenever I walked for a long time, it would ache faintly.

Back then he was covered in mud, holding me tight as I bled, promising to the endless prairie that in this life he would love only me.

The vow was as clear as yesterday, yet now it was light as a passing wind. He truly had forgotten. I could never ride a horse again.

Douglas didn't stay long. He said a few things and then drove off.

I went to the cluster of cosmos flowers in the courtyard and lay down, but I couldn't press down the cold in my heart no matter what.

A little way off, a few of the servants' idle chatter drifted over:

"Yesterday the young master went in person to settle on the wedding gown, and it was an Italian tailor taking Miss Henson's measurements too. He even gave special instructions that the diamonds on the gown all had to be real."

"No wonder he wants to push the wedding back. That wild girl from the prairie, how could she belong in high society?"

"Last time I made her a fish stew special, and she said a bone got stuck in her throat and told me not to eat it either. It was so funny I nearly died."

I held my breath and listened.

"The young master really does have a soft heart. He gave special instructions that Miss Henson has to accept the wild girl as a kept mistress. That little wretch really was born lucky! Still, she did save the young master's life..."

"Pah, pah, pah. The young master is precious and highborn. She just happened to be in the right place, and off that scrap of goodwill she still dreams she can marry him? Haven't you noticed the young master won't even let her out? He must be ashamed of her showing her face outside."

Warm tears slid down without a sound, dropping onto the soil at the roots of the cosmos flowers.

My chest was aching, stopped up tight, and one line kept circling round and round at the bottom of my heart.

But when I met Douglas Sanchez, he hadn't even known Miss Henson yet.