Chapter 13
WINNIE
After Jonah leaves the horse rescue, I head into the house for some much needed alone time.
The knowledge that my parents know I’m in Star Mountain has shaken me up and I desperately need to find some internal peace—if that’s even possible.
I put on a lemon yellow sports bra and matching shorts, and grab my yoga mat.
I haven’t done any exercise since coming here aside from mucking, and moving my body seems like a good idea.
I start going through some easy poses, just warming up and trying to center my thoughts. Then I start on a sun salutation, the up and down motions of it familiar and calming. I get to my second down dog, and for some reason, I’m reminded of the time my mom tried to do yoga with me.
Is this really all that difficult, Winsome?
Is this worth wasting your time on?
Shouldn’t you be running?
Why don’t we add some ab exercises in at the end?
I flop down onto the mat, pressing my cheek against it and trying to get her words out of my head. I’ve finally escaped my parents, but they’re still here with me, questioning every damn thing I do.
I don’t think I’ll ever be free. Not until I can get them out of my head.
Suddenly, the yellow sports bra feels like it’s strangling me, compressing my ribs and keeping me from breathing as deeply as I need.
I sit up and wrestle with it, struggling to peel it off.
I finally get it over my head, and then I lay back on the mat, half naked and panting.
It takes me a moment to realize that I’m in the middle of Candice’s living room like this.
I’m the only person home and everyone else is in the barn or out, but my cheeks heat from embarrassment anyway.
Then the doorbell blares, and I jump up.
“Fuck!” I scramble around, looking for something to cover myself with. “One second!” I scream, hoping they’ll hear me.
I run into my bedroom and grab the first thing I see, which is a fleece. I pull it over my head, and then rush to the door and fling it open. A dour looking man dressed in black and holding a manilla envelope is standing in front of me.
My heart dive bombs in my chest and settles into the pit of my stomach. This can’t be good. I get ready to close the door as soon as possible if I need to.
“Are you Winsome Grant?” the man asks, without even saying hello. I feel his eyes crawling over me, and I hug my arms around my waist. I wish I was wearing longer shorts.
“Yes.” My voice shakes.
“You’ve been served.” He thrusts the manila envelope into my face.
I just stare at it, unable to face the reality that I feared was coming, unable to make my hand move to take it from him.
After a moment, the man drops the envelope and it thuds down in front of my feet.
Whatever lawsuit is in there must be long.
The man shakes his head, like he can’t believe the state of me, and then turns on his heel and leaves.
Not only have my parents found me, they’re suing me.
After I muster up the courage to skim the lawsuit, I decide to go into town for a treat. I could run to Candice and tell her all about it, but I need to make a plan before I tell anyone else. I need to feel like there’s some way to tackle this—some way that I can save myself.
I walk around the village, taking in the smattering of independent shops and the weathered front of the Neon Horseshoe bar.
It’s flying a queer pride flag outside because there’s a drag show this weekend.
Star Mountain is a cute, quirky town. It’s smaller than I’m used to, yes, but I could see myself making a home here.
I could open a clothing boutique and bespoke dress shop.
I could start designing wedding dresses and prom dresses for the local women.
I could sing at the Horseshoe’s open mic nights.
Candice, Jenny, and I could wrangle Beau into babysitting Lila and do monthly girls nights out in Bozeman. I could adopt Rosie and learn to ride.
And when I’m thirty and I get my trust fund, I could use the money to build my own house, somewhere close to town but still remote enough to give me privacy.
It’s a beautiful future, and as I walk past Aimee’s Bakery, I can see it unfurling in front of me.
But of course, it’s more complicated than that.
If I stay, my parents will eventually come here.
If I run, they’ll find me wherever I go.
And either way, they’re suing me for more money than I or anyone else I know has access to.
I walk into Aimee’s bakery, still determined to get my treat. I stare at the glass display packed with pastries with wide eyes. I have no clue where to start.
“Can I help you?” a woman chirps from behind the counter.
“Um,” I say. It’s been a long time since I had a pastry. My mom never let me, and when my dad went out for donuts, he never brought any back for either one of us. “What do you recommend?”
“I baked some cinnamon apple swirls this morning that are just divine. And you can’t go wrong with a chocolate croissant.”
“I’ll take them both,” I say, feeling adventurous.
While the woman bags up my pastries she says, “I’m Aimee, by the way. And you must be Winnie.”
“How’d you know?” I say, handing over some cash.
“We don’t get many new faces around here and my husband Holden is friends with Beau.”
“Gotcha,” I say. “It’s nice to meet you.”
We chat for a few more minutes about how I’m enjoying Star Mountain, and our conversation just further cements for me that I’d love to live here. People are genuinely kind, and no one seems to give a rat’s ass about who I am or who I used to be. I’m sure pageants aren’t even on the radar here.
I take a bite of the cinnamon apple swirl and melt into my seat. I switch over to the chocolate croissant and practically moan. Both pastries are incredible, and also probably a thousand calories each.
The food in my mouth seems to turn to ash as I think about how fattening they are.
It’s not like my mom is here to yell at me for eating them.
It’s not like I need to do a swimsuit competition anytime soon.
I force myself to take another bite, even as anxiety swirls in my stomach about my situation.
The life I want to have in Star Mountain won’t happen if I can’t defend myself against my parents’ legal attacks.
It turns out that my parents set up an LLC for my social media business, and they’re suing me for a number of things, including failure to give notice, negligence, misuse of funds, and breach of contract.
That last one almost makes me laugh, because I don’t remember ever signing a damn thing for them.
I read a lot about Alabama employment law before I left and I don’t really think they have a case.
But that won’t stop them from burying me in legal fees. That won’t stop them from pursuing this to the bitter end. And even if I win this lawsuit, what’s to say they won’t mount another one?
Once again, I’m left thinking that I need money. And there’s only one way to get it. Candice and I have joked about it, but maybe it’s high time I considered it as a real option. And what’s the harm in trying, anyway?
I bag up the rest of the pastries and promise myself I’ll eat them both later, and then I walk back up to the counter.
“Aimee, could you do me a favor?”
“Sure, of course,” she says easily.
“Do you happen to know where Jonah the farrier lives? I need to pay him a visit about a horse at the rescue.”
I pull Candice’s old truck into the driveway of the address Aimee gave me, and jiggle the key to get it to turn off.
I may not miss my old life, but I do miss my Mercedes.
Jonah’s house is a ranch house with pine siding and a dark green door.
It’s adorable, and I can immediately picture how cozy it will look around the holidays, with a wreath on the door and a Christmas tree in the window.
Jonah’s truck is in the driveway, which means that I’m in luck.
I knock on the door and then take deep breaths while I wait for him to answer it.
On the drive here, I sort of lost some of my nerve, which makes sense given the massive, life-altering thing I’m about to ask him to do.
But I’m running out of options, and yesterday he gave me reason to believe we could help each other. There’s no harm in asking, anyways.
Jonah answers the door, wearing a navy blue sweater and a well-worn pair of jeans that cling to his thighs. He’s got a mug of coffee in one hand, and he looks surprised to see me.
“Winnie, was I expecting you? Is it something to do with Fuzz? Is he alright?”
“No, he’s fine. All of the horses at the barn were good when I saw them earlier,” I reassure him. He motions for me to follow him inside.
His living room is warm and inviting, with a soft leather couch and a tartan covered arm chair. There’s a fireplace in the corner and pictures of his family on the mantel, along with several wooden figurines. Book cases line one wall, and they’re stocked. Jonah must be a reader.
It’s neat and tidy, though there are some strewn musical scores on the coffee table and a pile of guitar picks. It’s clear that Jonah cares for this space and that it matters to him that his home is well kept. It’s far more inviting than your average bachelor pad.
“What’s up then?” Jonah asks, sitting down and sipping his coffee.
I sit on the couch next to him, and try not to notice that there are only inches of space between our knees. “It’s me. I wanted to take you up on your offer to help.”
“Okay,” he says slowly. “What is it you need?”
I inhale slowly and then exhale through my mouth, trying to bring down my hammering heart rate.
I just need to get this over with. If he says no, fine.
I’ll find someone else. I choose a spot to focus on in the room, instead of his face.
I end up staring at the acoustic guitar propped in the corner.
“Marry me,” I say simply.
Jonah chokes on his coffee and then splutters. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I said, marry me. So I can access my trust fund. And obviously you’ll get a cut too, to pay your mom’s medical bills and for whatever else you want. It’s simple, really. A business arrangement.”
“Marriage isn’t a business arrangement. People should get married because they love one another,” he says automatically.
I turn to him, place my hand on his knee, lean in, and dramatically flutter my lashes. “What, sugar,” I drawl. “You don’t think I’m lovable?”
Jonah reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re plenty lovable, Winnie. But I barely know you.”
Shocked by the contact of his warm fingers against my skin, I reel back, pushing away from him.
“It’s not like it will be a marriage that lasts.
We’ll get divorced as soon as we can. I’ve been tied down for too much of my life already, and have no desire to give up any more freedom.
The last thing I actually want right now is a husband, or long term commitment. ”
Jonah looks like he’s considering it, or at least thinking deeply, and then he says, “Sorry, but I don’t need the money that badly.”
“Ten percent of a million,” I say.
“What’s that?”
“The amount I’ll give you if you help me with this.”
“Christ,” Jonah says, rubbing his face. “How is it that you have a trust fund that large but your parents needed to rely on you for money?”
I grimace. “It’s from my grandparents on my mom’s side.
They made their money running a fancy chain of hotels in New York, and set up trusts for my mom and her sister, as well as me and my cousins.
My mom married my dad in her early twenties and they blew through it in a few years.
” I don’t mention that if I hadn’t started to make money as an influencer, they probably would have tried to marry me off and then drain my trust fund as well.
Jonah snorts. “They sound like pieces of work.”
“They are. Which is why I need this money to protect myself. They know I’m in Star Mountain, and they’re suing me. I got served earlier today. I’m not sure they have much of a case, but I need to be able to hire a lawyer. And get a really good security system.”
“Winnie, I don’t know about this. It seems messy. Complicated.” He rubs his eyes.
“But that’s the thing,” I say. “It’s not messy at all, because unlike in a real marriage, feelings won’t be involved. That makes it so much simpler.”
Jonah frowns at that, his eyebrows furrowing and his eyes steely, but he doesn’t say anything.
“If you won’t do it, then I’ll find someone who will,” I say, even though I’m not sure I mean it.
I envisioned doing this with Jonah, and Jonah only.
Why? Who knows. Maybe it’s because I know his reasons for needing money are altruistic, and I want to help him nearly as much as I want to help myself.
And when I imagine myself walking down the aisle in city hall, it’s only with him at the other end.
Jonah’s gaze darkens and he snaps, “No. Absolutely not.”