Dwindle: Populations Crumble: Book 1

by K. A. Gandy

  Beth-Ann reaches over and squeezes her hand before asking bluntly, “What’s wrong? What did they tell you?”

  Charlotte looks to her feet, “There’s something wrong with me. They don’t think I’ll be able to get pregnant without having a procedure first, but they can’t do the procedure at this center. They are sending me to the one in York to have it done by a specialist there.”

  “I’m so sorry Charlotte. Did they tell you what’s wrong?” I take hold of her other hand.

  “No, just that the specialist would explain when I get there, and it would take at least a week to recover. They are concerned that I got multiple matches, and they don’t want to hold all of the men up while I’m in recovery. So they’d like me to let at least one of them go tonight, so as not to waste their time. The others will be traveling with me for the procedure and recovery.”

  Beth-Ann snorts angrily, “Waste their time? Must be nice to have the administrators worried about wasting their time, as if anyone gives two seconds of thought to our time and our inconvenience in this whole process! You have a legitimate medical concern, and all they care about is getting some guy back to work a week sooner, when this decision affects the rest of your life!”

  “It really is ridiculous!” I agree, “Don’t put pressure on yourself. Maybe there’ll be an obvious dud, who you don’t want to deal with for the next week. If so, you can send him packing. Otherwise, don’t stress about it. If one of them can’t support you through this, there’s no way they’d be supportive through pregnancy and raising kids together,” I rationalize.

  “You’re probably right, but how are they going to feel when they hear they’ve been matched with somebody who’s defective, right out of the gate? What if none of them want to be matched with me at all!” Her chin starts to wobble again.

  “Hey,” I try to get her to look at me, “You are a beautiful person, inside and out. There is absolutely nothing defective about you. I hope you can believe that, but if not, you’ve got us to keep reminding you.” I squeeze her hand, and she finally looks up.

  “How do you do it, Sadie? How do you not let this get to you?” she looks troubled, and I don’t have a good answer.

  “I don’t know, Charlotte. I guess there’s not really any other option. I was raised to make the best of the situation, no matter what. When you live on a ranch, there are a million things that can go wrong any given day. A thousand possible emergencies, and you just have to deal, because by the time help gets there an animal could already be gone or injured beyond repair. So, I guess we just all know that you have to wade into the thick of it, and hope it works out on the other side. I have to believe that this is the same, that God and hard work will see me to the other side. Back to my family.” I try to sound firm, and calm. If only I felt calm on the inside.

  Beth-Ann speaks up, “Well, I guess we’d better go get cleaned up for our charming princes. Somehow, I don’t think they’ll be too impressed if we show up looking like raggedy messes.”

  I snort, “If they don’t like me, they’re welcome to see themselves out.” But deep down, a small part of me is worried that they’ll be disappointed in a plain farm girl from Georada. There’s only one way to find out.

  ✽✽✽

  Roughly an hour later, we start to congregate down in the sitting area. I chose a simple green dress from home that pairs well with my light skin tone and a pair of silver sandals, but I see I’m one of the plainer dressed as each woman comes down the stairs. Elena chose a silver gown that sparkles everywhere the light hits it as she moves. Jenna’s dress is extremely short and a bright electric purple. Beth-Ann’s wearing what appears to be her prom dress, in a pastel yellow that hits just past her knees. Interestingly enough, we’re all in completely different colors and styles—except for our identical tacky wristbands. It seems we had the same idea, to show our personalities with our clothing selection—everyone except Nell, that is, who looks extremely uncomfortable. She’s in an expensive-looking black dress with a plunging neckline that she keeps tugging upward to no effect.

  “Nell, I don’t think that’s helping anything.” Josephine notes. “I think it’s supposed to be low like that.”

  “I’m sure it is, but I don’t want to flash any of these dudes the goods the first time we meet. This stupid thing is almost down to my belly button!” She sounds exasperated.

  “Do you want to choose another dress? We don’t have to be there for ten minutes.” I suggest.

  “It doesn’t matter, I didn’t bring any dresses and everything in that stupid room is just as revealing. I guess I’ll just have to go like this.” She is growing more upset by the second, and I can’t stand it.

  “I’ll switch with you! You can wear my dress, and I’ll go change into one from the room. If you want, I mean. You look beautiful, but you should be comfortable,” I offer. Nell has been so steady, I can’t stand to see her tortured more than she has to be.

  She takes one look at my simpler dress, and lets out a huge sigh of relief, “Are you sure? I don’t want you to be miserable, either. But yours looks a thousand times better than this monstrosity even if it will be a little short on me.”

  “I’m sure. Head to the room with me and I’ll give you this dress.” We both hurry up the stairs, and into the wardrobe room. I hadn’t even gone in here originally, since I already had my green dress to wear. Hopefully I can find something that fits quickly. Beth-Ann and Faith followed us up here, and quickly help us change. I strip off my dress and hand it to Faith, and she turns to Nell who starts unzipping the black dress. Beth-Ann and I both head to different racks, hoping to find something quickly. The first rack is all black, strappy, revealing numbers that I wouldn’t be caught dead in.

  I turn to the next one, right as Beth-Ann shouts, “I think I found one! It’s even green like your first dress!” I look around the end of the rack and I do like the color, but all resemblance ends there between the two dresses. This dress has a green lace top over a flesh-toned backing fabric, which slowly coalesces into a solid green skirt which drapes to the floor.

  “Are you sure? That’s going to look like I’m practically naked at the top. Oh, hell. How high does that slit go?” But she’s already pulling it off the hanger, and shoving it towards my head.

  “I’m sure, it’s either put this on or go naked. We have two minutes before our escort arrives,” she reminds me as she pulls the gown in place over my head.

  Thankfully, it does cover all the most important bits, and you can’t see through the nude backing. But as I look down, I’m sure it doesn’t look that way to an observer. The green lace is sparse on my arms and chest and doesn’t start to cover much until my ribcage. It is a really pretty lace pattern, at least. She hastily zips me, and we follow Nell and Faith back out of the wardrobe and hurry down the stairs. Margaret is just coming down the last few steps ahead of us, and she must have brought a custom gown from home. It’s a shiny gold floor length evening gown, and fits her like a second skin before expanding into a mermaid skirt at the bottom. We make it to the entryway right as Eric lets himself in to escort us to the entertainment hall.

  He lets out a low whistle as he rakes his gaze over us, “Ladies, you are about to make ten men very, very happy.” His heavy glance lingers on Margaret for a heated moment, and he offers her his elbow. “If you’ll follow me, it’s time to meet your matches.” He turns and walks back out into the twilight with Margaret by his side, and one by one we follow him to meet our fates.

  Gentleman Callers

  We file into the entertainment hall behind Eric and Margaret, and before we reach the banquet hall the sound of stringed instruments and male voices spills out to greet us. My stomach is clenched so tightly, I know there is no way I’ll be able to eat a thing. I say one last prayer for calm as Eric opens the door, and then stands to the side for us to enter. I’m last in line, but I can hear the hush spread as the first few girls make their way into the room.

  My first impression when I cle
ar the doorway is that there are more men here than there should be. I know Charlotte had several matches, but even so I wasn’t expecting a crowd quite this large. There have to be nearly twenty men here, which I wasn’t expecting. I stop next to Beth-Ann, and scan the group. They are all staring back at us, just as we are at them. However, where you can practically feel our anxiety, they seem predominantly anticipatory. I guess it makes sense, since they are volunteers. I reach up and shove a piece of hair behind my ear that escaped from my braided crown, and realize that I recognize a face or two from the Bachelor Book.

  If I’m not mistaken that is Devonte with the kind eyes towards the back of the group, and, oh my gosh— “Patrick?” I whisper, as I spot the guard standing next to him. Is he in the match program, or just here guarding this event? Beth-Ann elbows me, and I realize a few men closest to the front are staring at me curiously, having clearly heard me. I can feel my face burning, and quickly drop my gaze to the floor without scanning the remainder of the group. Thankfully, Eric chooses that moment to walk in front of us and start the evening.

  “Welcome, welcome, everyone!” he says with his signature booming excitement, “We’re so glad to have you all here today! I won’t keep you waiting any longer to meet your perfect matches, so I will get straight to introducing each of these lovely ladies. If you are one of her matches, please come forward and I’ll tell you which table you’ll be seated at this evening.”

  He pulls out his tablet, and checks the table numbers, and then looks to his left where Margaret is standing with a serene smile. “First up we have the lovely Margaret.” A suited man steps forward from the front of the pack. His tie is an icy silver, and his hair is swept back from his face and gelled to precision. He walks directly to Margaret and she offers her hand daintily.

  “I’m Calvin Swift, and I’m absolutely enchanted to meet you, Margaret my dear.” He leans forward slightly as if to bow, and then takes her hand and tucks it into his elbow possessively. Her expression never changes as Eric gives them a table number, and she’s led away. No other men step forward, so I guess she only got one match.

  Eric continues down the line and Elena is matched with a handsome, tan man named Hector. She blushes prettily when he reaches out and offers his hand. I am holding my breath when he introduces Charlotte and three men separate from the group and introduce themselves. My heart soars when I see that Devonte is actually here for her. Maybe all of these matches won’t be so terrible, after all. After a moment of indecision, the three of them escort a furiously blushing Charlotte away towards the tables.

  Jenna is matched with a man named Marcus, who’s wearing a uniform rather than a suit. Leigh gets two matches; an older-looking man who introduces himself as Randy, and I see Faith stiffen as the second introduces himself as Spencer. Surely that isn’t the same Spencer who is her colder than ice ex-husband? What are the odds? But the look on her face says that it must be. She looks horrified and mortified in equal measure. He, on the other hand, is soundly ignoring her and practically drooling over Leigh in her tight blue one-shoulder gown. Instead of taking her hand as all the previous men did, he slithers an arm around her waist, and I think I hate him even more in that moment. Leigh looks apologetically over at Randy, who follows politely as Spencer practically drags her out of line.

  Next up is Josephine, who’s standing with her chin held high and staring down the dwindling group of men. As Eric introduces her, a short, thin man with receding hair steps forward and introduces himself as Elijah. She looks him up and down once, and ignores his proffered arm before walking herself away to find a table. He trails after her, looking embarrassed. That is definitely not a match made in heaven.

  It’s Faith’s turn, and I finally get up the courage to sweep my gaze over to the crowd of remaining men, and realize that everyone left must have several matches. There are far too many here for there to be any single matches left. My gaze stops, my heart drops out of my chest, and it feels like it bounces off every single bone in my body before crashing flat to the floor. I dimly hear Faith’s name announced past the ringing in my ears, as my brother Teddy steps from the group. He shoots me a cocky grin before he saunters over to Faith and sticks out his hand for her to shake and introduces himself, “Theodore Taylor, but everyone calls me Teddy. Nice to meet you, Faith.”

  Oh, God. Faith’s ninety-nine percent match. The match who she plans to pop out a baby with and then leave behind to return to New Texas is my youngest brother, Teddy. I thought he was taking a year to settle into his career before deciding if he wants a wife. So why is he here, batting his long eyelashes at a shyly smiling Faith, instead of finishing up his training? I watch in shocked silence as he looks over his shoulder at me and mouths, “We’ll talk later,” as they walk off together towards a table.

  I’m still in shock as I watch the largest man in the dwindling group walk forward to claim Nell’s much smaller hand. He is built like a solid wall of muscle, and his stoic expression never wavers as he greets her and then leads her away. Nell casts a worried glance over her shoulder at Beth-Ann and me, the only two left to be matched. But they told Beth-Ann she’d be matched and directly married to Phil tonight, and her other match was sent home. I briefly glance at the remaining bachelors, but there are far too many men left. There is Phil on the right, with a wide grin aimed directly at Beth-Ann. As soon as Eric introduces her, Phil strides forward, grabs her around the waist, and plants the biggest kiss I’ve ever seen right on her lips. She reaches up and tangles her hands into his short brown locks, pulling him closer.

  Eric looks scandalized, and there is a murmur from the bachelors. But they don’t seem to care who’s watching. In this world of crazy matchmaking, they got each other. And I’d be a liar to say my throat didn’t tighten with both happiness and a tinge of jealousy for what they have.

  Eric clears his throat loudly, “Excuse me, if you two would head on over to . . .” he looks down again, “table nine, we need to continue with the introductions.”

  They kiss for one last moment, before separating just enough for Phil to rest his hand on Beth-Ann’s cheek carefully, as if she’s made of porcelain. Then he twines his fingers through hers, and they make their way off to table nine. It’s at that moment that I click back into reality and realize I’m alone up here with Eric. All eyes in the room are on me, and the gaggle of remaining dudes. Surely some of these guys were matched with someone else, because I vaguely remember one of the videos stating that the maximum number of matches received to date in the program was four. And there are more than four left. So, somebody got confused and missed his match.

  Eric is back to business, though, and before I can open my mouth and say something stupid, he introduces me, “Ok! Last, but most certainly not least, we have the charming Sadie. If you are her potential match, please step forward!” He smiles widely, as if he hasn’t said the same thing nine other times, and I barely keep my mouth closed in my shock as every remaining man steps forward at once.

  A few of them shoot each other annoyed glances as they vie for who will greet me first. A man in a suit wins out, his hair trim and neat, and his teeth are as blindingly white as Eric’s. He extends a well-manicured hand to capture mine, which he brings to his lips abruptly. “Hello, Sadie. I’m James. It’s a pleasure to meet you this evening. I look forward to getting to know you more intimately in the coming days.”

  Okay, eww. I literally just met you. But I can’t say that out loud, so I swallow my revulsion and try to be polite like my mama taught me, “It’s nice to meet you as well. I’m sure we’ll find time to chat.” I give him a small nod as I firmly remove my fingers from his grasp. He doesn’t look pleased with my tepid response, but I don’t have time to dwell on it as another man steps forward.

  This man is slightly more reserved, but I immediately like him better as he extends his hand to shake mine like an equal. “Hello Sadie, I’m Asher. I’m a veterinarian from the Saskerta Territories. I hope we’ll get a chance to speak this eveni
ng.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Asher. I would like that as well.” I give him a polite smile, and he returns it, crinkling the corners of his deep brown eyes. He seems genuine, and the polar opposite of James. Saskerta Territories are so far away, though, at least two thousand miles. That means one of us would have to move away from everyone we know if we marry. I try not to frown as he moves to the side and another man greets me.

  “Hey, Sadie, I’m Pierce.” This man is all smooth warmth as he reaches for my hand. He doesn’t shake it, just holds it between us for a moment. I look from our joined hands up to his face. He’s lightly tanned, with wavy blonde hair and piercing green eyes.

  “Hello, Pierce.” I’m not sure what to say, and we just gaze at each other for a moment. A girl could get lost in this man’s eyes far too easily. He gives my fingers a squeeze and slips away from me to let the next man come forward.

  “Sadie, nice to meet you. I’m Matthew Leeds from York.” He’s brisk, forthright, and he’s got a tight grip as he gives my hand an aggressive shake.

  “Hello Matthew, it’s nice to meet you, too.” I give him a firm grip in return, and he smiles.

  “My friends call me Matt—you should, too.”

  “Okay, Matt, I hope we can become friends in time.” He gives my hand one last pump up and down before releasing me, and straightening the sleeves of his gray blazer. On his left, the next man approaches. His outfit is one I’m intimately familiar with.

  Decked out in a black cowboy hat, button-up plaid shirt, bolo tie, and clean denim, with boots, he is the definition of a cowboy. “Sadie, I’m honored to meet you this evening.” He starts off with an easy smile. “My name is Grant, and I’m a rancher from Central Georada. I do hope to have the pleasure of your company for many evenings to come.” He tips his hat in lieu of a handshake, and I give him a nod in return.

  “Wow, nice to meet you Grant. My family runs cattle down in Jackson Flats. I’d love to talk about your operation sometime.”