by Kristi Rose
“So you have no money or a way out.” This was the telling moment for Sabrina. Now she would know if her services would be needed or not.
Meredith pulled away slightly, her gaze darting around the room before returning her focus on something over Sabrina's shoulder.
Sabrina knew to wait, her only action to hand Meredith a tissue. Answers to questions were revealed if there was an opportunity, and talking or pushing Meredith into the moment was not how it was done.
“I have a plan,” she said a few moments later.
“Plans are marvelous. When they come together.”
“I won’t live like this much longer,” Meredith said with determination, then clutched her head. The force of her words likely had increased the pounding in her head.
Meredith was made of sterner stuff, probably from carving out something of a life while under the authoritarian thumb of her father.
“If I can help in any manner, please let me know.” Sabrina handed Meredith a plain white business card made from textured cardstock. The word HOPE was embossed in silver on the card, the light making it sparkle. Meredith ran her thumb over it. Below, in navy blue lettering were the only other words on the card: Sabrina’s name and phone number.
Meredith flipped it over a few times before looking back at Sabrina. “Hope?”
Sabrina pulled her arm from around the girl’s shoulder so she could face her. “Yes, I give people the prospect of an alternative. Hopefully one that brings them happiness and love.”
Meredith folded the tissue over her fingers. “How so?”
This is where things got tricky for Sabrina. “I’m a matchmaker.” Yes, that much was true. But the rest would be told in due course.
“And you think setting me up on blind dates will solve my problem? I can barely get away from the house to shop at a bookstore. How am I to go on a date? Meet him at something like this? No. I want a different life for sure, but I don’t see how dating is going to make that happen. Truthfully, I don’t see men in my future anytime soon. I want freedom. When I start over—” She clasped a hand over her mouth, the white card still in her hand.
“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything. You plan to start over how? Where can you run where your father won’t find you? You’ll need a new identity.”
Meredith shredded the tissue. “I know,” she whispered.
“Has it come to that?”
Meredith nodded. “I believe so. Getting away is something I think about all the time.”
“How are you saving the money? A new identity isn’t cheap.”
“I know.” Meredith raised her Jimmy Choo-clad foot and lifted the skirt of her dress.
“Clever,” Sabrina said. Meredith was selling her clothes and shoes. “Consignment shops?”
“Yes, my father thinks I’ve been donating to the Junior League charity auctions and such. I use those engagements to my advantage.”
“Brilliant. Like your mother. I hope it’s working.”
“It’s slow, but with the wedding season coming up, I hope by fall I will have enough funds.” Though she said it as if it was exciting news, her face spoke of the fear she was feeling and likely, Sabrina surmised, afraid to acknowledge.
“Can you make it to fall? I’m guessing those migraines will only get worse with time if something doesn’t change soon.”
“I have to make it until autumn. What other choice do I have?”
Sabrina tapped her nail to the card Meredith was holding. “I’m not saying I’m the right choice. I’m saying I can give you an alternative. You see, I’m not setting people up on dates. I’m essentially, for lack of a better, more contemporary term, a mail-order bride service.” She held up her hand at Meredith’s gasp, hoping to stop any disagreement. “Every date a person goes on is an attempt to find their life partner. I help speed that process up. I can offer you a new life, Meredith. A new life as yourself and not some identity you bought online. How do you propose to work? Are you buying a new education as well? What will you do if your father catches you?"
Meredith let her head fall back against the cushion. "How does trading a controlling father for a potentially controlling husband give me freedom?" She massaged her temples. "It doesn't."
"Running, hiding, changing your name? That gives you freedom?" Sabrina was not challenging Meredith's plan, only hoping to help her reason through it, so she kept any skepticism from her tone.
A single tear slid down Meredith's face.
"If you've thought this through entirely, this running, I'm here to help you any way I can. I may even know someone who can help get you the new identity. But I can offer you an alternative. A real life. A husband that will protect you. Give you safety and security. Someone you can be yourself with. Create a life together that you want. All this can be done without your father knowing anything. You could escape him.” Each time Sabrina gambled on someone, she was aware of what was at stake. If Meredith told the wrong person, say her father, he could make life difficult for Sabrina. Possibly affect her standing within the community she'd grown up in, and that was something Sabrina would rather avoid. Being a matchmaker required anonymity since many of her clients were running from something. Her company wasn’t illegal by any means, and she had a success rate of ninety-five percent. That was better than any of those online services. But all it took was one naysayer—a heretic to bring down her business.
“Escape him yet take on an entirely new problem.” Meredith snorted her derision.
“This would be on your terms. It’s an option. You have my card. Should you change your mind, please call.” With that, Sabrina stood. She clasped her hands before her and stared down at Meredith’s pretty, tear-stained face. Sabrina owed it to Rebecca, Meredith’s mother. Rebecca had always been nice to her and had been one of the few people to go above the standard condolences when Sabrina’s father had died. She’d come by often and called to check on Sabrina.
“Picture what you want from life, Meredith. Who you want to be. Ask yourself if you are ready to give up Meredith Hanover.” Sabrina wiped a lone tear from Meredith’s cheek. “Good luck, honey.” Then she walked away.
Chapter 3
The sun-kissed and snow-capped mountains reaching into the bright blue Wyoming sky was a vision Jace Shepard never tired of. Sitting on the top of the fence, he wrapped his ankles through the wooden slats, brought his hands to rest on his upper thighs, and paused to take it all in.
The view left him breathless. Every time.
The six years he’d spent away at college and interning with the beef industry had been the longest of his life. This ranch, this landscape, and its lifestyle were in his blood. It made up the very fibers of his core. He would never leave if he didn’t have to. Heck, he planned on being buried here like all his ancestors who were the original homesteaders and had claimed the land by parking their wagons.
Now the deluded ideas of a crazy old man were threatening to take it all away.
It was true that Jace lived and breathed the ranch. No point arguing that. That was why part of him understood where his father was coming from when he told Jace to square away his personal life. A man liked to leave an imprint somewhere along the journey of his life, and Jace was no different. Like his father and his grandfather, he’d always imagined his mark would be in passing down the family business to his son or daughter. A tradition and lifestyle he was proud of.
But––from the words of his single-minded father––time was getting away, and he was right. Hell, his thirties had snuck up on him, and the prospect of settling down was starting to look slim. The odds of finding the old grizzly he suspected was hunting his herd and convincing him to hunt elsewhere look more probable.
Jace snorted as he thought about that conversation at the dinner table.
Keep the gun close by, dear. There’s a grizzly hunting these parts lately.
Not much of an enticement to be sure.
Jace was no fool. He knew living in remote Wyoming would require c
ertain compromises on anyone’s behalf. Winters could be rough, days without power. It was an isolated existence. Sometimes he went long stretches without seeing others. All reasons why finding a wife was darn near impossible, and the few times he had managed to match up with someone, the remoteness killed whatever interest they had in him. Even the local girls couldn’t bear the isolation, or those that could, had already been snatched up. It took a special person to be a rancher’s wife. It wasn’t all big cars and large diamonds as TV liked to portray.
Settle down with a wife, or Pop's would give Jace's controlling share of the ranch to some nitwit cousin––who, last time Jace checked, was obsessed with Pokemon Go. All because Pops wanted Jace and his sister, Willow, to have lives beyond Three Peaks Ranch, and his father was stubborn enough to stick to his threats. Lucky for Willow, she had plenty of time.
“Hey, man.” Tucker Williams came up beside Jace and leaned over the fence, one foot resting on the lower bar. “If it’s all right with you, I’m gonna split and see Mandy before she heads out to her book club.”
Jace glanced at his childhood friend. They’d found more trouble than was healthy for kids, but together had managed to survive, and the process cemented a lifelong friendship. “Yeah, sure man. Have a good night.” Jace bumped Tuck's fist. “Tell Mandy to have fun with her book friends.”
Tuck rolled his eyes. “Did I tell you she wants me to read the books too, so we can discuss them? Like she doesn’t get enough chatting in at her club.”
Jace snorted. Tuck discussing a book was as far-fetched as picturing bear negotiations.
“She also said that Cassidy Martin is still single if you want her to set you two up.” Tuck ducked his head, likely hiding a smile.
Jace shook his head. “She scares me. Always has, ever since she clocked your brother on the playground in third grade. I haven’t seen a right hook with that accuracy since. Tell Mandy thanks but no thanks.”
“Listen, I know it ain’t my business, but I heard what your Pops said the last time he was here. About getting a wife. And uh… Heck, man, this is awkward.” Tuck kicked the fence. “You want any help with finding one, I might be able to assist. I got a couple girl cousins in Bozeman that aren’t hard to look at.” Tuck wiped at his face and looked away at the mountain before them.
Jace didn’t know what to say. He knew his friend preferred not to get involved with affairs of the heart, so to make such an offer was a true test to the depth of his friendship.
“What makes you think I’m gonna give in to the demands of a crazy old man?” Jace tried to joke, but they both knew he’d do just about anything his Pops asked him to do, even if he hadn't threatened his share of the ranch. Knowing that his father's days were limited, his body deteriorating from ALS, only made Jace that much more eager to please. If Pops needed Jace settled before he died, then so be it.
“Your Pops has been good to me. After mine passed, yours stepped in. If he had told me he wanted to see me get settled and happy before he passed, I’d have run out and taken as many wives and adopted as many kids as it took to make him happy. Regardless of the law.”
Jace laughed. Yeah, he felt the same way. In fact, it’s all he’d been thinking about in the four weeks since his dad made the request.
I need to know you’re happy before I go. Nothing has filled my life as completely as your mom, you, and your sister. I want that for you. You understand what I’m saying, son? Why I'm doing this?
But how does one concoct a wife from thin air? If he went into town and down the list of single girls, more than half would be too young, a third too old, and the rest like Cassidy Martin were not the sort of girl he pictured himself with for the entirety of his life.
Or even for the bit of time his father had left. Getting a temporary bride would require a special someone who would be willing to let go when the time was right.
Though “borrowing” a wife temporarily was likely the best plan, Jace worried it might be borrowing too many problems. “I’m taking care of it, Tuck. But thanks for being so willing to sacrifice your cousins.” Jace leaned forward and rested his chin on his palm.
“That’s all right. Let me know if I can help.”
Jace grunted. “You better get home to your pretty wife.”
“Yeah, she gets upset when we don’t get some time together. I guess she knows the schedule’s about to get hectic so she’s trying to get in what she can.” Tuck shrugged. “You know how they are.”
“Then you better get along.” Truth was Jace didn’t know how “they” were. His last serious girlfriend was during his internship. She’d taken one look at the ranch, calculated the distance to the nearest Target, more than 100 miles away, and bailed after the first day. Since then, he’d kept a few “friends with benefits” on speed dial when in town for auctions or such. There were no misunderstandings in those situations. They were clear he wouldn't change, and he understood they had no interest in a life with him in the wilds of Wyoming. None of them were impressed that Yellowstone lie directly to the West, that his land shared peaks with the national park.
“See ya tomorrow.” Tuck cuffed him on the back before turning to leave.
When the horn on Tuck’s beat-up pickup blasted three short honks, Jace didn’t look back but gave an over-the-head wave. After the slapping of the tires on the wet earth faded, Jace reached into the front pocket of his weathered jeans and pulled free the folded slip of paper.
It was a silly note from his sister that had planted the idea of borrowing a wife and made him call Sabrina. Jace scanned the sheet, reading his slanted scroll quickly, his gaze only stopping on his sister’s bubbly script.
1. Fix west fence near stream
2. Weed out unhealthy herd
3. Parse out stock for the exchange
4. Prep for summer births from Heifers
5. Ranch vehicles need service
6. Find a wife and be happy
It was the word find, like he could do an Internet search and be provided a solution. Which in his case, all he had to do was dial up his college friend. It bothered him that Willow had written be happy. He was under the impression that he was happy. Yeah, it could get lonely out here, especially in the winter, but it all came back to compromises. Once spring hit full-on, he’d be going non-stop without a second thought about if he had someone to sit next to him on the fence or a helpmate who’d heat up his dinner on those cold rainy days that he’d be forced to stay out in the deluge. He wasn't so lonely he took for granted he had a place to come home to and a hot meal, even if it was canned soup. He’d seen people with less, and he wasn't about to sit here feeling sorry for himself because he required a wife and his sister thought he was unhappy. These were obstacles he needed to find a way around.
Jace was a simple man. He never asked for much and was grateful for what he had. He needed to remember that. Swiping his hand over his face, he followed it with a heavy sigh. Lately, he’d asked for a whole heck of a lot. He’d asked for a cure for his father. He’d asked for more time. It was plain greedy to ask for a wife, too, even if he did it under the guise of making a dying man happy.
The phone in the breast pocket of his thick Carhartt jacket vibrated. Jace smiled wryly. For all the remoteness of the location, he had cell service out in the field but spotty service in his house. How was that for technology?
A glance at the screen told him Sabrina was calling.
“Rina,” he said, using the old nickname he’d given her in college. “I was just thinking about you. How’s tricks?”
“You know I hate when you say that.”
Her irritation was a pretense. Experience and a lengthy, true friendship taught him that. “Your call brings a smile to my face.” They never spent time bickering about the insignificant.
“That’s how you should start a conversation, Jace. That makes a woman all warm and soft.”
Jace laughed and wished, not the for first time, he could have made something spark between himself and Sabi
na. But nothing comes from nothing, and even sparks require an accelerant of some making.
“How’s Pops?” She never failed to inquire.
“Holding his own. Hates not being out here doing the day-to-day stuff, but he knows that getting through this therapy will help maintain a quality to his life he wants.”
“I’m sorry the trial drug didn’t work. Did Willow go back to school?”
Jace wiped one eye with the corner of his palm. They all were sorry. Real sorry and heartbroken.
Willow, was finishing up her master’s degree at the University of Washington. “Yeah, she keeps talking about transferring back here, but they don’t have her program, and Mom won’t hear of it. She only has six months left.”
Which felt like nothing when you didn’t have a ticking clock to face every day. If he should get 180 more days with his father, he’d drop to his knees and give thanks. He no longer had faith in what the doctors said. The disease seemed to have a mind of its own, accelerating faster than they’d expected.
“I hope I get some time in with your Mom and Pops while I’m there.”
“You’re coming? To what do I owe this honor?” Last time she came to the ranch was to hide out and nurse her broken heart. Jace couldn’t think of that clown, Lawton, without wanting to punch him in the face. Dammit if the man hadn't caught them off guard. Spending four years being Lawton's roommate hadn't prepared Jace for witnessing Lawton's lilied-liver, chicken-butt cowardice first hand. That was Lawton Jones. Coward of the first order. Standing in his tux, throwing his belongings into his car, and begging Jace to tell Sabrina he was sorry. He just couldn't go through with it.
“This time it’s for business. I found you a wife.” There was no misunderstanding her matter-of-fact tone. The call had gone from friendship to business owner and client.
