Chapter 13
Allie
“You’re going to look absolutely stunnin’ in this dress. It matches your eyes perfectly!” The girl behind the counter practically bounces up and down on the balls of her feet after draping the heavy bag across my arms. “I wish I could see you in it at the gala. It’s so excitin’!”
Is it? Maybe to her it is. She hasn’t spent the whole week helping her mother prepare for something she dreads.
“I wish I could get you an invite,” I say with more of a wince than a smile.
You can take my place, if you want.
She waves a hand and giggles nervously, her accent somehow growing impossibly thicker. “Please. That’s your world. I don’t know nothin’ about livin’ like that.”
It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Even if I admitted that out loud, I don’t think she’d believe me. Nobody ever does when it seems bright and shiny on the other side. They have to experience the tarnish for themselves to truly understand.
“Post a bunch of pictures online,” she urges as I head to the door. “And I bet there will be some in the paper, too!”
“I bet there will be,” I bite out, then remember myself and thank her again.
It really is a beautiful gown. Floor-length green satin, and I look damn good in it if I do say so myself.
Even if my mother did pick it out. The event is hurtling toward me like a speeding train, and all I can do now is hope I make it through.
Pretending to be happy is the worst part.
I never really had to pretend before. There are times I grow depressed about one thing or another, sure, but for the most part, I was comfortable with my life.
I could have anything I wanted whenever I wanted it.
I had friends back in Seattle, or thought I did.
Saint was, and still is, the only real, true friend I have.
I just… never had to think much about anything.
Then Mom had to go and fuck it all up. Oh, and there’s the whole “I almost slept with my own brother” thing, too. Oh, and the fun little “I was adopted” revelation.
With all of that, I don’t recognize my own life anymore. I don’t recognize myself.
I wish I could go back to that old version of me, take her by the shoulders, and shake her hard enough to wake up, to open her eyes a little sooner before they were ripped open the way mine were.
And I would tell her to never, ever get involved with Kade Bishop.
That’s the point I would work the hardest to impress.
Anyone but him, because he will never bring anything but misery.
The worst part is, he likes it. He gets off on torturing me.
One second, he’s protective, and the next, he’s making me do things against my better judgment, taunting me every step along the way.
“Well, hello there, Miss Allie.”
I’m lost in my head, opening the back door of my car so I can drape the gown across the back seat, when Buck calls for me.
No one else calls me Miss Allie. I lift my head, searching for him, and spot him walking my way with a huge bag of feed slung over one shoulder.
I don’t have to pretend to be happy when I see him, which might be the greatest gift he could give me today.
“Does this mean you got the job at Wilkins’ place?” I ask, poking at the bag of grain once he reaches me.
He smiles wide and bobs his head. “Yup. Started a couple of days back. It’ll take a little gettin’ used to, gettin’ the feel of everything, but I’m glad to have the work.”
“I’m happy for you.” One less thing to feel guilty about. Now when I see him, I don’t have to worry so much that he’s doing alright. Or that he secretly blames me because of what my mother did to him.
“What do you have there?” He cranes his neck to peek inside the car.
“It’s for the big gala.” I don’t bother feigning excitement for him. He’d see right through it anyway.
“Oh, sure. That’s next week, isn’t it?”
“I can hardly wait,” I deadpan.
His laughter is soft. “You never know, you might just have some fun.”
“They’re announcing my engagement that night.” The words almost get stuck in my throat. “I don’t think I’ll have fun.”
“Well, that’s a shame.” He looks like he’s about to back away before he stops himself and pins me with a look. “Oh, I almost forgot. I heard a story about a brawl that broke out over at The Rusty Nail a couple of nights back.”
My insides freeze over. “You did?”
“Seems some wild redhead was dancing on a table for all the guys.” He narrows his eyes, his mouth set in a disapproving line that makes me feel ten kinds of ashamed. “I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
I lift my shoulder, trying for a nonchalant shrug. “Why would I?” But even I hear the strain in my voice, which means he does too.
He snorts, then shakes his head. “Well, if you do know the firecracker, tell her a young person can have some fun, but be careful.” He pauses and lowers his brow, making the brim of his Stetson shadow his eyes. “Some men can get the wrong idea. And I’d hate for her to get hurt.”
I know one man who got the wrong idea. Big time.
“I’ll pass that on. You know, if I ever meet up with that girl,” I promise.
I’m only joking. But he doesn’t laugh. Only studies me hard for a long moment. Long enough that I fidget and can’t stay still under the scrutiny. Then finally, he says, “You be sure you do that.”
Message received.
I’m relieved to get in the car and give him a little wave as he walks off. Of all the men in town, he’s the one I actually respect. Shame washes through me for the first time. Until now, I hadn’t cared… well, except for the parts with Kade.
But Buck is someone whose respect I felt proud to have earned.
And now I feel like I’ve lost a little bit of it.
He’s almost like a dad to me. And that hurts in a different way.
Tears burn my eyes, but I force them back.
I need to get my shit together before I get home.
Mom will want to see the dress, and I don’t need her bullshit about being happy right now.
It’s not for her sake. It’s for my sanity. I can’t hear any more of her rhetoric about sacrifice and saving our legacy. Like I’ve ever given a shit. The drive home only takes a few minutes. Once I reach the house, I park the car and take a few deep breaths. Amping myself up.
You’ve got this, Allie.
I climb out of the car, my legs feeling like they have ten-pound cinder blocks tied to them. The dress feels even heavier when I pull it out and carry it into the house.
“There you are!” Mom is on her way downstairs when I enter, and she’s practically singing. That should make me happy, right? A normal daughter would want to hear her mom this excited. But she’s not a normal mom, and let’s face it, nothing about our life is normal either.
“I was wondering what took you so long.” When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she gives me a long, studying look. “Yes! Definitely the blue Chanel.”
“What? This is my dress for the gala.” I hold it up even though the heavy fabric makes my arms ache.
“No, silly.” Her laughter is way too loud, or maybe that’s because it echoes under the high ceiling.
“We’ve been invited to dinner tonight! Your fiancé and his father are flying in and taking us to dinner in Billings.
I couldn’t decide which dress was best, but now that you’re standing in front of me, I know for sure it’s the blue Chanel. Better get ready. We leave soon!”
My heart drops.
Dinner. With the Lowrys. Again. Because last time was such a blast.
I can already feel a headache brewing.
“We were all real sorry to hear about Roman Bishop’s passing.”
Every single hair on my body lifts when I hear that name coming out of Mr. Lowry’s mouth. This is a joke, right? Can’t I get through a single meal without having to think about a fucking Bishop?
Mom clicks her tongue, but she does it while side-eyeing me. Like she’s afraid I might blurt out her little secret. Right. Like I want anyone knowing my mother fucked that disgusting bastard.
“It came as a real shock. He was the sort of man you imagined would live forever,” she offers, and I’m actually impressed by her straight face.
Because true evil doesn’t die. Now tell him about the part where he threatened to murder the baby he put in you. That will really set the mood.
“A mythical figure,” Mr. Lowry agrees before shoving a forkful of lettuce into his mouth.
At least it shuts him up for two seconds. I swear, it’s like we’re eulogizing someone who actually deserved it. I guess I’d better get used to pretending a lot of things don’t bother me.
Like the way my fiancé sucks down drink after drink while everyone else eats their salads. Mom said I could eat a real meal tonight, so I can hardly wait for my filet once this course is finished. I haven’t been able to eat much lately. It’s kind of hard to when I always have a knot in my stomach.
Jackson is just as disinterested in both me and the conversation as he was at the country club, only tonight he hasn’t even bothered with the pleasantries. From the looks his dad keeps shooting him, the elder Lowry is pretty pissed, not that Junior seems to care.
It won’t change anything. We’re stuck with each other. But what’s in it for them?
So far, it seems like we’re the ones benefiting the most from this arrangement. Well, not me. Mom wouldn’t promise more than she told me, would she? I mean, what else could she promise them? I have nothing left to give.
All evening, I study Jackson from the corner of my eye. Can I endure looking at him every single day? I guess if I’m lucky, we’ll have our own lives, and he’ll only have to trot me out in public for events and funerals.
He’s not bad to look at, though he’d be more handsome if he’d stop pouting like a teenager. Maybe I should tell him to smile. The idea inspires my own little grin. He seems like the kind of guy who would use that line on a girl.