13. Zee
It’s eleven PM before I get the chance to call him. Hardly late for the city that never sleeps but hella late at ten PM for a rancher.
Me: You okay for me to call?
Colton: Sure.
He picks up almost immediately. “Hey.”
“I’m sorry about the time,” I excuse.
“It’s fine. What’s going on?”
The meeting with Clyde’s had me in its grip all day—screwing with my blood sugar as well as messing with my head.
A part of the reason it’s taken me so long to call him is that I’ve been second-guessing myself.
Telling him about Clyde’s request is akin to trusting him, and I already promised myself I’d never be such a fool again.
I’ve filmed six videos because the only thing that soothes me is baking and decorating my cookies. The panic kicked in when he texted me after I told him I’d arrived, saying I could phone him any time.
“I know you’re there. I can hear you breathing.”
Though he sounds amused, I stutter, “S-Sorry. I-I’m struggling to get my thoughts together.”
Your day of reckoning is coming.
I’ve no idea why that horrible letter pops into my head. Talk about bad timing.
The note feels like it’s more suited to his father. But if it isn’t, is the facade Colt showed me a lie?
ShouldI trust him?
Is the man so different from the boy I knew?
“You breaking off the deal?”
Huh.
Of course, that’s where his mind went.
“No.”
He clears his throat. “I’m relieved to hear that.”
“I didn’t mean to make you think—” Hesitating, I rub my tired eyes. “I don’t like your father.”
“Join the club.”
“No. I mean it. I hate him. Have for a long time.” Since I was a child. Never mind how he ruined my life.
“To be honest, I figured that out from our conversations,” he says calmly, and he’s not talking about our recent ones. “Trust me when I say, proudly, I’m nothing like him.”
“This isn’t about you. It isn’t about our deal.”
“What’s it about then?”
“He was waiting for me. At the airport,” I whisper.
Silence is my only answer.
Until: “Did he hurt you?”
There’s a zip of emotion that threads through the words—rage.
I’ve listened to this man talk like every word he uttered was from God’s lips to my ears. I shouldn’t be reassured by his anger but I am.
“Of course not. We were in a secured area. He’d have been a fool to hurt me.”
“He was in a secured area?” he repeats, his confusion obvious. “Wait a minute, he wasn’t waiting for you in the parking lot?”
“No. Past security. Said he was flying out to Vancouver. He orchestrated the meeting between us.”
“That asshole,” he barks, and the insult is infinitely more reassuring.
He didn’t know Clyde intended on sabotaging me today.
So Grand-mère did tell him.
Probably over a conversation where they celebrated the ‘merger.’
“What did he want? Did he try to bribe you?”
There are moments in life where everything can hinge upon the decision one makes in that second…
I can literally feel the air throbbing with the importance of this occasion.
A relationship forged.
Ties mended.
An olive branch extended.
Or not.
Clinging onto the faith I had in the boy I once knew…
“Yeah.”
He grinds his teeth. Audibly. “What did he offer you?”
“Cash. I don’t think he realizes I’ll be working. Says I need spending money?—”
“The bastard lives in the Middle Ages.” He sighs. “Sorry for cursing.”
“New York’s my home. I hear worse on the regular.”
Still, that slight bit of levity does what it did earlier—encourages my anxiety to trickle away.
The release from its crushing weight comes with great relief.
“Still, I shouldn’t be cursing so soon. What will my future bride think of me?”
I bite the inside of my cheek at his teasing. “That you’re human? I think I’d prefer that. Pigeon Creek can’t decide whether the Korhonens are demigods or demons.”
He snickers. “Demons, maybe. Fitting considering that’s who Cole used to play for.”
The New Jersey Blue Demons, to be precise. I’ve lived with Tee for too long not to know that.
“That didn’t help matters, I’m sure,” is my prim retort. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you about your father.”
“I appreciate it. You didn’t have to say anything…”
I can sense he’s taken aback that I did.
“I know.” I pause. “I-I didn’t accept his offer.”
“Zee,” he interrupts before I can continue. “I know you didn’t.”
“O-Okay.”
I hate that his approval still matters to me.
I can hear him drumming his fingers. Fingers that belong to a man who’ll be my husband soon enough.
Before the year’s out—that’s all the contract stipulated—but neither of us can afford to wait.
“I guess I should go,” I mutter. “We need some rest.”
“Yeah, we do.” Another pause, but from him this time. “Look, I think I’m speaking for both of us when I say we want our relationship to be low-key.”
I huff. “Definitely.”
“How about we get married in Saskatoon?”
Any future wife of his would come under public scrutiny. But I’m me. My baggage is legendary in our corner of the world so it makes sense…
“You’d want that?” I ask warily.
“I don’t care where so long as it isn’t the church in town.”
He knows I’d probably get stoned by the locals when we left said church as man and wife.
I shouldn’t be offended. Not when he’s giving me an option that doesn’t involve pebbles and rocks. But once upon a time, I used to dream about marrying him in that tiny church…
Instead, he’s offering to marry me as if I’m a secret he wants to keep under lock and key.
“Great idea,” I rasp, the words burning my tongue like acid.
“Good. I’ll make the arrangements. When do you think you can get your things squared away?”
“I spoke with my boss earlier. She’s fine with me moving. Says our in-person meetings can be online.”
“That’s awesome news.”
Because he sounds genuine, I cut him some slack as my fingers toy with the weave of the blanket covering my knees, one that Grand-mère crocheted for me. “Yeah, it is. She also gave me some time off. A week. Guess I know what I’ll be doing.”
Seven days to wrap up my life in the city and to return to Pigeon Creek…
It shouldn’t be as daunting as it is, not when this marriage solves a lot of problems, but my mom didn’t raise no fool. Green flags or red flags, this is the opposite of a healthy relationship.
“I’ll be in touch with a moving company about transporting your belongings here,” he murmurs, breaking into the whirlpool of thoughts that’s been threatening to drown me all day.
“I appreciate that.”
I’d been wondering how I was going to pay for the expense.
But then I forgot how much of a gentleman he is.
“Just let me know the number of rooms you need to be packed.”
“I will, for sure.”
“The company will box up?—”
“No, it’s fine. Tee has time on her hands through the day and she promised to help me.”
“I thought she’d refuse. Everyone knows how close you are.”
Not even Tee knows how close we used to be.
“She’s as happy as we are about our current situation,” is all I say. “But she’s a friend and she helps where she can.”
Another hum.
“I’ll book flights for myself this?—”
“Why?”
“To meet you in New York.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Sure I do.”
“It’s a waste of money.”
“I’m not going to let you do this on your own.” That shouldn’t make me want to cry, but it does. “I’ll fly down on Wednesday and be with you Thursday morning. We’ll head for a license once we’re in Saskatoon. Zee?”
“Yes?”
“It’ll be okay.”
“I-I guess.”
“I couldn’t prevent what happened with my father at the airport but I’ll be on my guard from now on. I know he scares you even if you deny it. I’ll protect you from him. I promise.”
Staring blindly at the crocheted flower pattern covering my knees, I whisper, “I believe you.”
A satisfied grunt sounds in my ear. “We’re starting this off strong by having each other’s backs. I’ll see you on Thursday but keep in touch, okay?”
“I will.”
“Zee?”
“Yes.”
“You can trust me with your ranch. I’m not Clyde?—”
“I know you’re not, and I know I can.” An annoyed laugh escapes me. “Your father tried to tell me that you weren’t used to managing a ranch. Even when you were seventeen, you knew the Seven Cs better than he did.”
“Thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me. It’s the truth. The Bar 9 will be in safe hands with you. Hell, the triplets will be too.” It’s just me I’m worried about.
Before he can comment, I cut the line.
Once the silence of my room is all I can hear, I rub my eyes.
That entire conversation was unexpected and yet, when I climb into bed a few minutes later, the burden of my upcoming marriage is lighter than it was.
Just like last night, I press a hand to my stomach once the light’s off.
I could be pregnant soon.
By next summersoon.
And Colton Korhonen and I could be divorced by the following Thanksgiving.
“No way I’m going to sleep thinking stuff like that,” I grumble as I give myself permission to do something I never permitted in the past… “Colton Korhonen images,” I ask Siri.
His face pops up almost immediately. Though his younger brother, Cole, populates a good chunk of the search results, there’s plenty for me to see of my future husband.
Blowing up one of the shots, I stroke my thumb down his cheek.
He’s a handsome man, make no mistake. Like the best whiskies, he’s gotten better with age.
But his eyes…
I recognize something in them that I know is in mine.
The past is more than memories for us. Wistful wisps of times gone by, old laughs, and happy occasions that cover up the sadder ones.
No, ours come with chains.
Pain.
Grief.
Loss.
I’m reminded of the fact he doesn’t smile much from picture after picture of him staring somberly into the camera.
I can see it in my mind’s eye, though.
Lost to our mutual histories, I fall asleep.
Staring into eyes that don’t see me back.
It’s the first time I share a pillow with Colton Korhonen, and it’s nothing like how my teenage self hoped it’d be.