4. Cara
4
CARA
I didn’t know what to expect when I made the drive to see my father.
Shane Murray may as well have lived in a whole different world from me. I hadn’t seen him in years, and the last time I did spot him, he’d treated me like scum he didn’t want to be associated with. That was from my perspective as a child then, and now, at twenty-two years old, I was even wearier.
Being unwanted set a lot of things in stone. I was an outsider, invited to his lavish home. The butler seemed like a joke, as did all the gaudy ornamentations and décor. The chandelier dripped with more gems and crystals than I could ever imagine. My first thought as I stepped over the threshold was how much of a pain it would be to clean all these fine possessions set out for guests to notice and identify this residence as somewhere that money bled freely from wallets.
Silly me. They’ve got a crew. An army, a legion of peons to do the grunt work. Shane never had to lift his hand. My stepmother never cooked or kept the house. And Saoirse? She had to be an entitled, selfish brat by now.
I ignored the showy entrance, though, walking in after the pot-bellied butler. He huffed and puffed, clearly not a fan of cardio as he led me further into the house, past what looked like a parlor. Instead of bringing me to a room to receive guests for entertainment, he brought me to my father’s study.
He sat there, looking older than what I remembered. I'd never cared to keep in touch with them, but I saw things online from time to time. Saoirse loved to be in the spotlight, and I supposed she considered herself an influencer on social media. Or maybe she was trying to be a model. I didn’t remember, and I didn’t care.
“What do you want?” I crossed my arms and ignored the butler leaving me in the grand study. Tall windows let in the fading light from the sunset, but ample lamps shone brightly.
Keira was the first to turn around. My stepmother stood there with my father, poring over something on a table at the wall behind the desk. As she turned to face me, she showed me how she’d aged too. Flatter, more weight, no curves. She’d always been a homely sort of woman, but that never stopped her from relying on cosmetic surgery to suffuse some appeal into her appearance.
And it still fails.
“About time you showed up,” she sneered.
My father turned as well. His brows jumped up in surprise as he looked me over, almost as though he hadn’t counted on me to come at all. “Oh.”
“What do you want?” I wasn’t here to play any games.
Keira rounded the desk, keeping her chin up and that regal attitude consistent. With all those facial lifts, her face didn’t move much. She looked like a molded doll frowning without showing any lines. “That’s how you greet us? Where are your manners?” She smirked. “Where is your sense of propriety?” Even though her face was frozen, I saw how little she thought of me.
In jeans and a plain T-shirt, I was comfortable and true to myself. I’d brushed my ponytail before I’d come, and I had to be mostly clean. Mud lined the edges of my boots. Or maybe it was manure. I didn’t care either way. What they saw was what they’d get—a hardworking woman busting her ass to keep her mother alive and her family business from failing.
“I don’t care about being proper or having manners. I’ve got real problems to worry about.” I lowered my arms and propped one hand on my hip. “You’ve got five seconds to tell me what you want or I’m leaving.”
“Oh, you think you’ve got a backbone?” Keira retorted. “Talking back to me like that.”
I stepped around her, ignoring her approach and facing my father directly. “You had your assistant contact me. I’m in no mood for any games. Talk.”
He frowned, not pleased about my strong arrival. “I summoned you on Tuesday!”
“ Summoned me? I’m not a dog to call to heel.” I was still confused about why he’d contacted me at all. He had to want something. That was the only reason he’d ever contact me. What he wanted, I had no clue. But just knowing he wanted something was a form of power I would wield with caution.
“You were supposed to be here Wednesday,” he growled, impatient.
“Tough shit,” I sassed back. “I couldn’t get away.”
“From what?” Keira mocked. “As if you have a life.”
I narrowed my eyes at her but decided she couldn’t be worthy of my energy. I had intended to come on Wednesday as he’d demanded. But then Mom had to be rushed to the hospital. Another infection. Then one of the horses got injured, and I had to beg the vet to come quickly even though I still owed him for the last two visits. Sheep got out. The shearing processor machine broke down. Then Oscar got into an accident with the better truck we used at the farm. As soon as I brought Mom home from the hospital, she fell into one of her depressive states, claiming that she was a burden on my soul.
Some days, it really felt like she was. And I hated to think that. Only when I was overly stressed did I let myself get down like that. I loved her. She was all I had, but when she was overwhelmed from her illness and hopelessness, my heart broke. I wore too many hats as it was, advocating for her health and running the farm, but when she needed comfort, I had to slow down even more and make sure she knew I could be present and that I loved her no matter what.
I was stretched too thin, dammit. So if my father and stepmother had any plans to waste my time, I would snap.
“I’m here now. Take it or leave it.”
They exchanged a glance, seeming to communicate with just that look.
He rounded the desk, standing next to Keira.
“Sit,” she instructed.
“No.” I crossed my arms again. I was on edge, cautious and assuming this would be a trap. I wouldn’t let them impose an air of power over me, looking down at me.
“That hardly matters,” my father said, sighing.
“You said you would cover my mother’s medical bills and debts. That you would see to covering her continued medical costs.” That alone would be a massive weight off my shoulders. Maybe then, I could focus on making her farm less of a mediocre business and more a thriving one with an actual staff, new equipment, and more freedom to invest in it.
“And we will.” She looked past me, smiling sweetly. “Oh, there you are, honey.” Her voice dripped with sugar as Saoirse entered the room. She passed me, knocking her bony shoulder against me, and I rolled my eyes.
“So, she finally showed up,” Saoirse said, grinning as she dropped into a chair. Looking at me like she knew something I didn’t, she crossed her legs and bounced her heeled foot.
I was getting sick of these jabs about being late. I couldn’t stop and drop what I was doing to come here and play games.
“What’s the catch?” I demanded, losing my patience.
“You get married to the man who wants me ,” Saoirse said as she looked up at her mother, beaming.
“What?” I deadpanned, wondering if this was a prank, if they were so bored that they had to call me to drive all the way out here as a joke.
“You marry the man interested in making Saoirse his bride. And in exchange, we will cover all of Nora’s bills and expenses.” Keira locked her malicious gaze on me, putting the ball in my court.
“Marry some guy? And you’ll pay off her bills?” I asked, stunned.
My father nodded. “Tomorrow.”
My jaw dropped. “You want me to marry someone tomorrow?”
“He is eager to find a bride,” he added.
I narrowed my eyes. That was a hell of a big catch. “What’s wrong with him?” Glancing at Saoirse and noticing how happy she was to be off the hook, I worried.
“Who cares?” Keira said. “Don’t you want your mother’s bills covered?”
“We’ve looked into your finances. Her farm and all that she owes.” My father held his head higher. “You’ll never get on top of it all to afford her kidney transplant.”
Dammit. He really knew how to strike me down. Then again, Keira had a point. If all I had to do was marry some guy, so what? If it meant my mother would no longer suffer as much, if she wouldn’t have those depressive spells about being in bed and so weak…
It would be worth it. I would do anything to improve her prognosis. Besides, if the guy was so terrible, I could divorce him later, right? They weren’t saying that I had to stay married to him.
That’s it. I hid the smile wanting to break across my face. A loophole. “You’re saying that you’ll pay for my mom’s expenses if I show up at a wedding tomorrow and marry this guy?”
All three nodded.
I can’t believe I’m going to do this…
But I would. I’d been drowning under the oppression of having no other options with the struggles of my life, but here was one dropped in my lap.
I thrust my hand out and held my breath, nervous but excited. “Fine.”
My father looked at my hand, scrunching his nose in disgust.
“Shake on it,” I demanded.
He did, his fingers weak and light around mine. “Tomorrow,” he said.
I nodded, overwhelmed with all that I’d need to do. I had to call Oscar and tell him to go ahead and sell that tractor to hire help. That I wouldn’t be back on the farm. Then, I bet I could ask old Mrs. Gehring across the road to come by and help my mother to and from her appointments. Oscar could step up and help her. I was glad I’d just picked up all of her prescriptions.
The butler took me to a guestroom in the basement, and I tuned out all the details that Keira told him. To get a dress fitted for me. To find someone to fix my hair and tend to my nails. If she was hoping for a makeover, she’d be disappointed. I refused to let them do anything but fit me for a gown while I tended to everything with Oscar over the phone.
“Will your mother be there?” he huffed, incredulous about this sudden news that I’d get married. “Can she travel for the wedding?”
“No.” I shook my head, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I wished she would be at my wedding, but even if she could come, she’d be so upset to know I was bartering myself for her care. “I’ll explain it to her later. Just tell her that a more lucrative work deal came through. Tell her whatever seems believable, not the truth.”
I fell asleep in the strange room, unused to such a firm mattress, but my body was tired from the long day of work and the drive. My mind was weary from all the stress and now this new change.
Married. Tomorrow, I would be someone’s wife.
When I opened my eyes, I got up with frayed nerves. I knew nothing about my groom, and I tried my best not to think about him at all on the drive to the church, then as I was led to the room in the back to get ready.
My father didn’t want to walk me down the aisle. He explained that he’d be sitting with Keira to make sure I saw this through.
As if I wouldn’t. I couldn’t chance losing a free ticket to financial freedom and a better standing for my mother to get that kidney transplant. Marrying this man would solve all of my immediate problems.
So when I stepped out of the room to begin walking down the aisle, I lifted my face and started ahead with determination and shaky confidence.
I can do this. I will do this, for Mom.
I’d never thought about marrying. I'd only ever counted on a lifetime of working at the farm.
As I locked my gaze on the tall, brutish man scowling from the altar, I froze mid-step.
Oh, my God.
He looked like a thug. Hard and dangerous. Scarred and so stern, narrowing his eyes as he waited for me to continue down the aisle.
Him? I had to marry him ? He looked like he’d just gotten out of jail. His black eye attested to violence, and with the way his muscled frame filled out his tux, he looked like a monster in fine clothing. A wolf in a sheep's hide.
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered as I tried to will my feet to carry me forward.
That man instilled nothing but fear to make my heart race. His intense stare provoked me to tense up, my fight or flight instinct activated.
He looked like a heartless, impossible-to-please killer.
I didn’t think. I couldn’t comprehend how anyone could expect me to marry a rugged, lethal-looking man like that. I was so stunned and insulted, I couldn’t remember my reasoning to go through with this.
My body reacted. I couldn’t commit to being with someone who looked that scary.
And I turned to run away as fast as I could.