Chapter 9 #2
Heather scoffed. “Come on,” she ordered. “You have a purse?”
I shook my head. The wallet I carried was in my suitcase out in the truck.
“You can borrow one of mine,” Heather said easily. “Let’s see if I have an extra in here somewhere.”
I stood in the middle of the room as she rifled through her dresser and a shelving unit, looking for something to carry the money in.
“I can just put it in my pocket,” I told her as she cursed under her breath.
“Nah, you need a purse.” She grinned at me over her shoulder. “You’re a grownup now, kid.”
“Does he really want to get married in three days?” I asked, watching her scour the room. “He was just joking, right?”
“He definitely wasn’t joking,” she replied. “Aha! I knew I had one.” She lifted a black leather purse over her shoulder in triumph, the fringe on it whipping wildly from side to side.
“Um, thank you.”
My hands were shaking a little and growing damp around the money. What in the heck was I doing? Was I really going to marry Otto Hawthorne? Suddenly, and with a ferocity that surprised me, I wanted to be back in my quiet little cabin. It was all too much. Everything was too much.
I dropped the money on Heather’s bed like it was on fire.
“Whoa,” she muttered gently, her hands out in front of her like she was trying to tame a wild animal. “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay. Just breathe.”
I gasped, wrapping my shaking arms around my waist.
“My son’s a moron,” she murmured, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “Men usually are.”
“I’m having a baby,” I breathed incredulously.
“You absolutely are,” she replied, nodding.
“And I’m getting married.”
“That looked like that was the plan when I walked in,” she confirmed dryly.
“I don’t think—” Before the words were out of my mouth, reality snapped things back into focus.
I didn’t have any other choice. My cabin was all but lost to me and it hadn’t been a long-term plan, anyway. At some point I was going to have to enter the world again somehow. I could do it with Otto, or I could do it alone.
I knew what the better option was.
“Sorry,” I mumbled shakily. “Of course I’m getting married.”
“No of course about it,” Heather replied seriously. “You don’t want to marry Otto, you don’t have to. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Yeah, I know. I think my hormones are just going crazy.”
“Well, that’s pretty normal.” She squeezed my shoulders and frowned. “Sweetheart, you must be sweating like a pig in that jacket.”
“I am,” I confessed with a little laugh. “But—” I unzipped it, showing the large stain down the front of my dress.
“Ah,” she mused knowingly. “Well, did you bring anything that you could change into?”
“My suitcase is in Otto’s truck.”
“Otto’s?” Heather asked in confusion. “Oh, it’s probably Rumi’s.”
I felt embarrassment heat my cheeks. “Right,” I said like I’d known all along that it wasn’t Otto’s truck we’d used.
Heather poked her head out of the bedroom door and yelled at someone down the hallway, and just a few minutes later my suitcase magically appeared in the doorway.
“I’ll let you get ready,” Heather said kindly, setting my suitcase on the bed.
“And I’ll go see what the hold up is. I think they’ll probably send a guard with us into town, but it’s no big deal.
You won’t even notice them. Use whatever you need in the bathroom—” She pointed to the closed door across the room.
“Except the toothbrushes, because that’s nasty. ”
She was gone, the door shut behind her, before I could reply.
Opening the suitcase quickly, I took inventory.
I didn’t have much. Even the dresses that fit loose were getting snug.
Pulling out a gray sweater dress that I’d barely worn at the cabin, I looked it over.
No stains or pulls. I grabbed a pair of underwear and set it on the dress.
None of my bras fit well anymore, so the sports bra I was wearing would have to do.
Not sure how much time I had, I moved quickly, pulling off my dress and rolling it into a ball.
The underwear was next, but that took a little more time.
I kicked them off and hastily pulled on the new pair.
I’d just situated them over my butt when the door opened up behind me.
I yelped in surprise and whipped my head around.
“Damn,” Otto said appreciatively.
“I’m getting dressed,” I hissed, my hands frantically trying to cover everything at once.
“I can see that,” he mused, sliding into the room and closing the door behind him.
“What are you doing?” He didn’t seem to notice my glare.
“Were you this ripped before?” he asked, moving toward me. His hand reached out and traced a line over my shoulders. “You’ve got more definition than Rumi.”
“It’s from chopping wood,” I mumbled, snatching my dress off the bed to hold against my front.
“Look at those guns,” Otto said with a grin, squeezing my bicep.
“Yes, I’m very muscular,” I gritted sarcastically through my teeth. “Stop poking me.”
His eyes met mine in surprise. “Listen to you,” he said softly to himself. “The sweet church girl’s got teeth.”
“Did you need something?” I asked desperately. Embarrassment at being caught half-dressed was quickly morphing into a familiar burn that was reflected in Otto’s eyes.
“You’re too thin, though,” he said quietly, ignoring my question as he brushed my hair over my shoulder. “We’ll fix that.”
I scoffed, trying valiantly not to lean toward him. What was it about this man that made all other thoughts disappear? I’d already thrown caution to the wind once with him, I wasn’t about to do it again. We weren’t married yet.
“All of my dresses are too snug, actually,” I replied, swallowing hard as I shuffled backward.
“Why you hidin’?” he asked, tilting his head in question as he reached for the dress still clutched to my chest.
“Because we’re not married yet,” I blurted, taking another step backward.
His lips pulled inward like he was trying not to laugh.
“It’s not funny,” I snapped.
“Baby, I’ve already seen everythin’ there is to see.”
“And look where that got us,” I shot back.
He jerked his head back in surprise. “Point taken,” he breathed.
“I’m sorry—” Oh, god. What was I thinking? I started to lower the dress.
“No,” he said, reaching out to stop me. “You wanna wait, we’ll wait.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizin’,” he ordered, reaching up to run his finger along my jawline. “You got an escort and things are all set when you’re ready to go shoppin’.”
Without another word, he was gone.
My stomach was in knots as I finished getting dressed and tidied my hair.
I’d never been very concerned with what I looked like—I was used to being the weird kid—but I was hyper aware of how…
odd I’d look next to Otto’s mother. She was so trendy with her clothes and makeup.
Staring in the mirror I bit at my lips, trying to make them a little pinker.
I was going to stand out like a sore thumb.
When I made my way back into the main room of the building carrying my suitcase and jacket with Heather’s purse slung over my shoulder, there were several more people waiting.
Only a couple of the men I’d spoken to earlier were still milling around, but a whole group of women had shown up at some point and turned to face me as I came through the archway.
“I’ll take that,” Otto announced, striding over to get my suitcase. “You look pretty.”
“Thank you,” I replied in surprise. I was extremely self-conscious. My sweater dress that had once fit loose and flowing now clung to my belly, outlining the roundness there. My cheeks heated, and I lowered my voice to a whisper. “You don’t think my dress is too tight?”
Otto frowned and leaned back to look me over. “Not at all.” His hand ran briefly over my belly. “It looks great.”
“Alright,” Heather called. “Hands to ourselves, or we’ll never get out of here.”
I was pretty sure my face was turning purple.
“Jesus, Ma,” Otto barked angrily when he saw my embarrassment.
“It’s fine,” I assured him, putting my hand on his chest. I moved around him and walked toward the group of women.
“Look at that,” one of them said in amusement. “She tamed the beast with a couple of words.”
“Pretty sure it was the hand on the chest,” another one countered. “That move works on Michael, too.”
“Esther,” Heather said, raising her voice above the others. “Meet the rest of our dysfunctional family.”
She was grinning as she said it, so I assumed she was joking.
“This is Otto’s aunt Rose.” She pointed to the woman who’d spoken first and then the other one. “My son Micky’s wife, Emilia.”
“Hi,” I said with an awkward little wave.
“Then Nova, Rumi’s wife.”
“I’m his fiancée,” Nova clarified, smiling at me.
“Might as well be married,” Heather said with a shrug. She pointed. “That’s Charlie and Kara—both cousins—and you’ve met Callie.”
“Gram,” Callie corrected.
“Nice to meet you,” I said faintly. There was no way I was going to keep them straight.
“My youngest might meet up with us later, but she’s still at school,” Heather told me, looking me over. “And I’m sure you’ll meet everyone else at some point today. They won’t be able to resist coming to see you.”
“Everyone else?”
“This isn’t gonna work,” Otto’s aunt announced, coming closer. “She’ll be too noticeable. I’m sorry, honey, I think you look real nice, but—”
“No, you’re right,” Heather replied, still looking at me. She met my eyes. “There’s safety in numbers, yeah?”
I nodded.
“But if someone sees us escortin’ a daughter of Calgary around town, it’ll be noticed.”
I didn’t understand why she’d called me a daughter of Calgary, but I nodded anyway, glancing down at my dress. “I don’t have anything else,” I whispered apologetically.
“Here, wear this,” one of the cousins said, pulling off her jean jacket.
“I can’t take your coat,” I replied, lifting my hands to ward her off.
“It’s fine,” she said, putting it in my hands. “I’ve got another coat in my Jeep.”
Heather helped me slip on the jean jacket and they stood around me, looking me over some more.
“Hair,” one of the women said, nodding.
“My hair?” I reached up to touch the bun at the back of my head.
“It’s really long,” Heather said, shaking her head. “If she wears it down, we might as well be waving a fucking flag.”
I choked on my own spit.
“We’ll braid it,” Otto’s gram said, winking at me. She walked around me and gently pulled the pins and ponytail out, letting my hair fall down my back.
“Holy shit,” the taller of Otto’s sisters-in-law said.
“Told you,” the shorter one murmured.
“It makes so much sense now.”
“Mmhmm.”
Gram’s fingers ran through my hair, and the breath caught in my throat. It had been so long since anyone but me had touched my hair. Memories of my mom, and later Noel, brushing my hair for me hit with the force of a hurricane.
“We’ll pull it forward,” Gram said, gently positioning my hair loosely over my shoulder. “Then we’ll just do a loose braid.” Her hands worked quickly and efficiently, and seconds later, she was putting the ponytail around the end of my hair.
“Better,” Otto’s aunt announced.
“What about the boots?” one of the cousins asked.
They stared at my rain boots. I’d never been so thankful that I was wearing a pair of tights that didn’t have any runs in them.
“What size do you wear?” Otto’s other cousin asked.
“Six and a half?” Were they going to change my shoes, too? Everyone wore rain boots!
“That’s Mom’s size,” his cousin said, spinning on her heel. “I’ll see what she has.”
“I can just wear these,” I said to Heather quietly, my voice strained.
“Not with the rest of it,” she replied almost apologetically. “Just trust us, yeah?”
“Cowboy boots,” the cousin announced, striding quickly back toward us a minute later. She lifted a battered pair of brown boots up.
I wanted to argue, but with all their eyes on me, I lost my courage. Quickly, before I could change my mind, I stepped out of my boots and into the cowboy boots. They pinched a little, and the bottoms seemed kind of slippery, but they fit.
“Good,” Otto’s aunt said with a nod.
“Makeup?” one of the cousins asked.
“No makeup,” I said quickly, shaking my head. I’d let them change my clothes and hair even though wearing my hair down made me feel like I was going out in my pajamas and I was pretty sure I was going to trip wearing the cowboy boots, but I was not wearing makeup.
“What the hell did you do?” Otto snapped, walking into the room from wherever he’d been.
“Does it look bad?” I asked worriedly before anyone else could speak.
“No,” he replied quickly, still scowling. “Are those Aunt Farrah’s boots?”
“Mind your business,” his aunt shot back.
“We’re heading out,” Heather announced, ignoring Otto’s scowl. “I’ll see you back at the house for dinner.”
“Be careful,” Otto ordered.
“You know we will,” one of his sisters-in-law said soothingly, patting his back as they started to file out of the room.
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Otto said quietly, moving in close.
“Do I look ridiculous?”
“You look beautiful,” he replied. “Just different.”
“Different bad?” I hadn’t been able to look in a mirror and by his response to the changes his family had made, I was seriously concerned that I looked even stranger than normal.
“Just different,” he countered. He leaned down and kissed me.
Good grief, would I ever get used to that?
“I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay,” I breathed, staring at him like an idiot.
“Alright, lovebirds,” his mom interrupted. “Let’s go.”
I took a step back from Otto and turned to follow her toward the door.
“Get a dress, yeah? A white one,” Otto called out as we left.