2. Chapter 2
2
The air smelled different in the wildlands. Or maybe it was just that I hadn’t been outside for this long in years. My lungs expanded on the thick, rich air with glee I found hard to stifle.
I’d survived the horrible train journey.
I’d escaped Daniel and the future he threatened me with.
All I wanted now was to be married as quickly as possible. I could never imagine Daniel sweltering in a small train carriage, getting dust on his tailored suits just to track me down. But I needed to be married just in case.
The sheriff’s office was tired. There were two cells with metal bars that wouldn’t even hold me if I took my anger to them. The yellow paint on the walls was someone’s attempt to brighten the dreary room, but the cheer had long since faded. The sheriff himself was a portly, middle-aged man with a stomach that bulged over his belt. His eyes bugged when he first caught sight of me and lost none of their surprise throughout the entire ceremony.
‘Ceremony’ was generous. Our vows were perfunctory. Hale hadn’t lied about being a no-nonsense man. Sheriff Peris recited the lines, trying to drag it out. He smelled musty, and I wanted to wrinkle my nose. To divest myself of the scent, but I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.
Everything rested on my ability to pretend a little longer. Betas weren’t affected by scents like the other Designated. They balanced out the tender, emotional omegas, and the aggressive, dominant alphas. I needed to remember that.
The sheriff’s gray handlebar mustache quivered with unrestrained curiosity. He was an alpha, something I didn’t expect. In the city, Designated rarely held positions of authority. Those were reserved for humans. Humans considered alphas too unstable for positions that required levelheaded leadership.
Hale ignored the sheriff’s pointed coughs and brief pauses, giving him no explanation. Amusement flickered low in my stomach. At the lengths he went to ignore the sheriff’s curiosity. In contrast to the sheriff, his scent was one I wanted to dive into. Earthy, like fresh, tilled soil.
In Breton City, I spent most of my time inside, but when the walls closed in, I’d steal down to the courtyard and sink my bare toes into the lawn at midnight. When the earth was rich with moonlit rays, it was seductive and mysterious.
That was Hale, and it was a big problem.
Hale towered over me, with wide, bulging shoulders and arms that looked like they would engulf me whole. My body prickled under my dress, reacting to the proximity of my alpha husband. I sent a fervent prayer to the pocked ceiling for Birdie’s tea to continue to work its magic. I brewed a cold cup before arriving at the station. As well as masking my scent, it dulled others for me as well.
It didn’t stop my appreciation of his handsome visage. His dark, unruly hair was longer than my father would deem gentlemanly, hooded hazel eyes and a thick beard covered his face. I liked his voice too; a low rumble that reminded me of a thundercloud in the distance. He was the exact opposite of Daniel, who charmed me initially with his manners and impeccable appearance. Nothing ever out of place, and it was a hard lesson to learn.
Even the neatest packages could hide a monster.
Ruck was like his brother, although there were obvious differences. Where Hale was tense, Ruck was relaxed, less imposing. He’d pressed a bunch of ragged daisies with bruised stems into my hand, insisting I have a bouquet before the sheriff began the ceremony. Ruck had towering height, ragged brunette hair, and piercing hazel eyes. His toothy grin would have stirred a swarm of nervous butterflies in the past. But smiles were welcoming traps to lull naive omegas.
“Do you, Hale Hartlock, take this beta…” Sheriff Peris raised his eyebrows. Hale hadn’t even given my name.
“Esta,” I supplied, smiling at the way Hale’s jaw ticked in frustration.
“Do you, Hale Hartlock, take this beta, Esta…” he trailed off again, wanting my surname for the vows. Ice threaded through my stomach, and I froze. I didn’t want to share my surname and tempt fate. I'd given Hale my mother's maiden name, but I hadn't been able to give up my first name. I was traveling to the edge of the wildlands. Nobody would travel that far in search of me. I hoped.
Hale let out a low growl, narrowing his eyes. “I, Hale, take Esta as my wife for as long as the wildlands drown in dust. There, happy?”
Sheriff Peris’s mustache whiffed as he sighed, but his eyes twinkled. “I need Esta to answer for herself, or is the marriage under duress?”
Ruck let out a low chuckle behind us, and I shivered at the sound. It had been a long journey to get to Misery Creek, and the small town was sadder than even Hale described. I was tired. That was the only reason Ruck’s laugh affected me.
“Perfectly willing,” I chirped. The only duress was the one I was fleeing from. I was hopeful this marriage would be the beginning of a new life. One where I could live how I wanted. Freedom. It was a tantalizing prospect, and I was ready.
“I, Esta, take Hale as my husband.”
Hale’s hazel eyes flared with surprise. Had he really thought I wouldn’t go through with this? He squeezed my hands sharply once. My stomach jabbed with piercing longing. He’d made it exceedingly clear what I was here for, and I didn’t want to let my habit of romanticizing things get the better of me. Hale waved off the sheriff when he opened his mouth, ushering me outside with a hand on my back. The sheriff followed with a perplexed scowl, looking to Ruck for backup. But Hale’s brother only shrugged.
“W-wait, don’t I?” I brandished my bare hand with a flush, crushing my gloves under my arm. Hale cursed softly under his breath and fumbled around in his pocket until he pulled out a plain gold band. He slipped it over my finger with a sharp exhale. He jammed on a similar, thicker band on his own finger.
“There,” he offered me a tentative smile, and after a beat, Hale lifted my hand to his lips. His beard tickled, the barest whisper of a kiss. But it sent a flood of electricity down my spine. The sheriff followed us outside.
“Hale, I—” the sheriff took a deep breath.
“Sheriff, appreciate you doing your job.” Hale assisted me into the cart, cutting off any more conversation.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Hartlock,” Ruck murmured as he sifted the reins through his callused fingers. A shiver of relief rolled through my body at the title. My long-held fear softened. Daniel could never hurt me again, even if he was a rich, powerful human. He would have to respect my status, like everyone else.
I slumped on the hard wooden bench as the aptly named Misery Creek disappeared behind us. The streets were unpaved, unlike Breton City, dusty with the ever-present swirl of dirt in the air. There were few women, although those I spotted moved quickly, like fleeting shadows. I didn’t know if they were human or Designated. Nobody seemed out of place, painted into the harsh, faded background of the town. But I couldn’t let my guard down yet. Anyone might have boarded the train with me under instructions from my father or, gods forbid, Daniel, to drag me back. They were both too late. Satisfaction stifled the fiery blade of fear that tossed in my stomach since fleeing.
I was a married omega now.
I could have a life unencumbered, one where I could be my true self. When I settled, I would send a letter to my sister, Birdie. I never would have made it this far without her help. My enraged father was hopefully still searching for me in Breton City. He wouldn’t expect his naive daughter to get on a train and become a mail-order bride. I rubbed my shoulder. There was no pain there anymore, but the movement was a habit. The moment I began these hare-brained schemes to escape.
I hadn’t told Birdie exactly where I was going. No one knew, although Alison, our cook, must have guessed in the end. She’d caught me loitering in the kitchen and roped me in to teach hearty, simple meals. Not like what I grew up eating, but perfect for those of a wife.
My soft hands gained the beginnings of calluses, and I was prouder of those than anything else.
On the day of my escape, she’d left out a package with a woolen cape. Plain, unassuming. But I didn’t miss the silk or lace I’d drowned in all my life, not with freedom whipping dust into my face. Jostled between the burly Hartlock brothers, I felt safe, which surprised me. The weight of my deception was uncomfortable on my chest, and I would explain everything as soon as I got a full night’s sleep.
I wasn’t an untruthful person. Lies made my stomach twist. Hale stressed he wanted only betas to reply to his ad. But his offer was my only viable escape from the city. He’d sent money for my train ticket and didn’t require permission from a guardian first, like the other ads. Hale would understand when I explained everything to him. I was sure of it.
The buggy horses took us further down a dirt road with a trot, but exhaustion stole my senses. I snuck a look at my new husband. His powerful thighs spread wide. He’d taken the reins from Ruck and held them tight in one fist. Ruck maintained a respectable distance on the other side despite the cramped seat of the cart. I wasn’t his to touch, and I appreciated the gesture. My behind ached from the bumpy ride, but I gritted my teeth. I didn’t want to give Hale cause to dislike his new wife by complaining. I needed to prove my spirit was tougher than the soft feather bed I’d grown up with. Three days of snoozing upright gave my neck an almighty crick. Privacy would be a luxury.
“How did you find the train? I’m awfully curious about them. Hale’s taken one to Breton City before when he—” Ruck stifled a cough with his fist. “You thought it was fair, didn’t you, brother?"
Hale pursed his lips and sighed, lifting one shoulder. “It was my first trip. My only, if I have a choice. The speed of it frightened me at the start, but it’s funny how quickly you get used to it.”
My father had been instrumental in getting the railways built, but he’d never let me on one. Omegas were too much of a liability, and polite society didn’t need our rich scents distracting the Designated that worked on them.
“I prefer horses, if I’m honest. But the world is about to get a lot smaller with trains around," I replied.
Ruck shot me an affable grin, and we returned to silence once more.
I was flagging after enduring the three-day train ride, surrounded by betas, alphas, and humans. Birdie concocted a tea that helped, but if the brew hadn’t, my sweet, cloying omega scent could have made me vulnerable to a monster worse than Daniel. Some passengers attempted to draw me into polite conversation, including the human man who helped unload my bag. He approached me with persistence, questioning my designation like he could tell I was lying. But even his constant bids for attention differed from what I experienced in Breton City.
An unbound omega who created chaos wherever I went.
Father hired a guard for me, a terrifying bonded alpha who wore a face scarf to block out my scent. But I felt so uncomfortable from the attention I ended up staying home most of the time.
I prayed the tea leaves survived the rough journey. It was suspicious to smell like nothing, but the lemon scent I dabbed on my scent glands seemed to be enough to dissuade the curious. The sun sank along the sky on our slow journey.
“The heat is too much for them,” Hale explained, jerking his head toward the two buggy horses. One tossed out a snort, dispersing the flies that crowded its nostrils. My body prickled with layers of sweat and now dust.
“I am perfectly comfortable,” I lied. My sit bones brayed each time the cart jerked over a dip in the road. I mustn’t have been very good at hiding my pain because Ruck bunched up his jacket like a cushion and motioned with a grimace.
“It’s not much, but it will do until we get to the ranch.”
I shifted the bundle under my behind, cheeks hot with embarrassment. Already they were having to make concessions for the gaps in my upbringing. I could finagle the best material out of the dressmaker when she visited. Put together a full dinner menu with my eyes closed. I could pour tea with an elegant flare. My embroidery skills were exemplary.
But I couldn’t handle a one-hour cart ride to my new life.
Hot, unwanted tears pressed at the back of my eyes. The long journey here frayed my nerves until they burnt like hot coals against my insides.
A beta wouldn’t burst into tears at the first hurdle.
“How thoughtful,” I replied, sinking into Ruck’s jacket with a stifled sigh. It gave me some comfort, an improvement from the hard wooden seat. Hale’s thigh pressed into the flare of my dress, and I was hyper aware of the warmth coming directly from him. I was hot, sweaty, tired, and reborn.
Esta Miller, Esta Smythe. The reclusive omega from a wealthy Designated family. She died on a steam train barreling out of Breton City.
I was Esta Hartlock. My face had no bearing, except perhaps when Hale decided he wanted to take me to bed. But the way Birdie explained it, he would not be looking at my face. Just hitching up my skirts and putting himself in me from behind. Like animals. Being sandwiched between the two masculine brothers made heat throb between my legs. More prickled over my skin. I must have been exhausted, to entertain such impure thoughts.
“I should have thought of that.” Hale rubbed his face ruefully. I didn’t know what to say. Ruck clapped him on the shoulder, jostling me. A chorus of apologies rang out from all of us, and Ruck’s laugh carried away on the sweltering breeze.
“I guess we all have to get used to there being a lady around. A beta bride.”
His comment gave me the opening I needed to come clean about my deception. They didn’t know I wasn’t the beta they asked for, and I’d rather deal with the lie churning in my stomach. Upsetting the dwindling remains of my suppressant tea. I wanted to come clean before any time passed. I should have told him before we were married.
“Thank the gods for betas and–” Hale spat off the cart with venom. “Curse to all omegas.”
My mouth clicked shut, and my nervous swallows hurt the tight column of my neck as it closed in. The desolate, scraggly ground before us blurred for a moment as I tried to get my bearings.
“Excuse me?” My voice sounded small, but it was all I could manage. Ruck shot his brother a weary look and shook his head.
“Don’t get your husband started on omegas, Mrs. Hartlock. Let’s just say that it’s fortuitous you are a beta, and omegas are a rarity Hale can avoid. Excusing the lone one who lives in Misery Creek.”
But I couldn’t let the comment lie. I turned to Hale, hoping he would refute his brother’s words or give an explanation that would allow space for my secret to be shed. But he didn’t. The hard lines on his face darkened with hatred.
“Omegas are carved from evil. Made to tempt, made to destroy. They are the ones who should be locked away. Trouble every single one of them.” Each word wrapped in blood-deep vitriol.
Panic shoved its hands down my throat and shook my lungs until the oxygen spluttered out. He interpreted my wide-eyed look as fear of his tirade, shoulders hunching with chagrin.
“I apologize. I got carried away. You have nothing to fear.” He insisted, tugging his hat low on his face as if to cover up the shame painted there. My nostrils flared, but I couldn’t breathe past the vise in my chest. The way he emphasized you made it very clear I was only in that category because he thought I was a beta. My husband hated omegas, and if not for the tea, he would know exactly what I was.
Did I leave the confines of one monster for another ?
Hale’s straightforward, blunt advertisement soothed my concerns. He wanted a maid, a nanny, with the potential for more. All the other ads I read professed the opposite, that they wanted someone they could dote on and spoil. Sugar-dipped lies even a sheltered omega could see through. It smacked of something sinister, and the only ad that seemed honest was Hale’s. He was exactly as he portrayed himself: forthright and strong.
He asked for a beta, and I’d done exactly what he’d expected. Deceived.
Now I was trapped in a lie I didn’t know how to escape. I ducked my head, unwilling to trust my voice wouldn’t shake. The rest of the ride continued in silence, and I didn’t bother to examine my new home. Too intent on stuffing my secret deeper, trying to puzzle out a solution. Perhaps I could write to Birdie and ask her to send me some tea. She'd given me more than I needed and now I was thankful for it.
“Welcome home.” Hale cleared his throat, looping the reins to slow the horses. The cart crunched over the ground as we inched to a stop. “This is Hartlock Ranch.”
“I’ll let the others know,” Ruck muttered, loping off the side of the cart before it finished moving. His long legs carried him into the house like he wanted to get away.
The house was made of white weatherboard, and there was a veranda jutting out of the bottom floor. Faded, but not peeling. It was two stories, with shutters affixed to the windows. It was a perfectly pleasant home, but a far cry from where I grew up. My father’s house was four stories, one specifically for staff. But there was no one here to fix meals. Now it was my job. There was a stone path leading up to the house and, past that, a large burgundy barn. There was also a spacious fenced ring, which contained a trough filled with water inside.
“It’s lovely," I managed.
Hale didn’t offer platitudes, although his jaw clenched as he pulled the cart to a stop. “Inside, you’ll meet my brother, Bram. He’s ten and will be in your charge now.” Hale reached to help me dismount.
“Your mother?” I asked, desperate for some sliver of connection. Hale pulled my trunk down with a grunt.
“Our mama died of wet lung some five years past. Our father died before that.” He headed toward the house, lugging my trunk with him. I hovered, but he was too far away to respond. I was about to meet his family and a child who would depend on me. My stomach, already upset, roiled like a storm. My shoes creaked on the wooden veranda, and I twisted the handle of the door and followed Hale inside. He placed my dusty trunk to the side and was standing with another man and a child, Bram. The man’s hands twitched when he saw me, and he tucked them into the pockets of his stained pants. His orange and red wine scent was sour. There was a streak of dirt over his left cheek, but it didn’t mar the smattering of freckles over his nose and cheeks. Wider than Hale and only an inch shorter, his gruff smile disarmed me. He ran a hand through his short copper hair and nudged the child with his elbow.
“Happy you're here, Miss.”
“It’s Mrs. Hartlock. My wife.” Hale’s teeth showed, but the other man didn’t cower. His green eyes warmed with restrained amusement. “This is Oliver Foxhound. He’s a farmhand who usually cooks our meals and helps with ranch work.”
Oliver’s cheeks flushed with color when I nodded in his direction.
“It’s a pleasure.”
My focus shifted to the dark-haired child, who failed to conceal his snarl. I might have laughed at his attempt at ferociousness, but I’d once seen a man felled by a tiny dog. It latched onto his forearm and tore his skin as easily as the dog that used to laze at Daniel’s feet. Something told me this child would be no different. He may not have the height and bulk of his alpha brothers, but he was wild of spirit. My chest grew tight. He was barefoot and filthy. Not the same grime as Oliver, that of a hard day’s work, but caked into his skin.
“This is my little brother, Bram.” Hale motioned Bram forward with an impatient hand. The child took one reluctant step, his frown never eased. I crouched, my skirts billowing around me. I’d observed others interact with children in this way and hoped it might melt some of the enmity away. Hale had mentioned how excited he was about my arrival, but the creases in his forehead deepened, and his little fists didn’t soften.
“Hi Bram, I look forward to getting to know you better.”
Bram snorted, looking everywhere but at me.
“You know you can just stick it in them. No need to marry a painted dove.” Despite his childish tone, the insult stung. My startled inhale rocked me backward onto my behind. I stared wide-eyed at Hale, waiting for him to say something. The boy just likened me to a whore. Bram let out a snicker, wincing when Ruck’s hand found the back of his skull.
“Can’t you at least pretend to be civil?” Hale’s low voice dripped ice, and some of Bram’s shiny bravado dulled. Hale reached down and pulled me to my feet, stepping quickly away as I brushed out my skirts.
“It’s perfectly fine—” I attempted to smooth things over, but Bram rolled his eyes, jamming his arms over his thin chest. The curl in his lip was back, and he ignored the fierce looks his brothers gave him.
“Go to your room. No dinner for you.” Hale advanced on Bram and pushed him upstairs. A muttered harsh curse silenced Bram’s insulted squawks. The child’s head dropped, and his shoulders hunched as he scurried up the stairs. A moment later, a door slammed.
“I apologize.” Hale sighed stiffly.
I shook my head with a wobbly smile, wanting to move past it and sink into some place warm and clean.
“You didn’t win me any favors with your brother.”
Bram was supposed to be my charge now, and if he didn’t hate me before, he certainly did now. It was natural for him to be angry at my presence. Perhaps it brought up memories of his mother who passed. From the dust on the surfaces, it was clear the house hadn’t seen a homely touch for some time. The sitting room was cozy, with a large couch, if lumpy, and an armchair tucked closer to the fire. There was a mantlepiece covered in dust over the fireplace, and it was empty.
“He’ll get used to you being here. We all will.” His tight jawline said he wasn’t so sure about his statement. The tension in my stomach pulled taut.
Had I made a mistake coming here?