Forever Wanted: Part One: A Contemporary Runaway Bride Romance

by Dee Palmer

  “Shh, Charge. Give me a second, Pink. I’ll take this downstairs,” Finn whispers and I can hear her light footsteps padding on the floor.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t. You know you can call me anytime.” Her voice muffles and I imagine she’s pulling something warm to wear over her head.

  “Bet you didn’t mean middle of the night though, darlin.?”

  “Anytime, and it sounds important…hang on.” There’s the sound of a door squeaking and then clicking shut. I can hear her footsteps as she skips quietly down the stairs, and I can picture her heading for her favorite armchair. The familiar squeak of soft leather, and she huffs a light groan, clearly getting herself comfortable. “Okay, how about we switch to a video call, so I can see you.”

  “It’s dark. There’s only one security light in the parking lot, and my truck light is pretty pathetic.”

  “I want to see your face.” The screen flickers and her face fills my phone screen.

  “Okay, darlin’.”

  “Oh Pink, you look so…” She pauses, drops her chin to her knees, tilts her head, and looks as forlorn as her heartfelt tone.

  “Yeah, it’s a bit short.” I rub the soft spikes of my short hair. My brief hope that the new haircut is the reason for the overdose of sympathetic expressions is short-lived.

  “I don’t mean your hair. God, I wish I could hug you right now.” She sucks in a deep breath, and her hand flies to her mouth to stop herself from saying what I can only guess.

  “Me too, darlin’.” It’s good to see her face. Even half asleep she’s a sight for sore eyes, and my chest hurts with missing them all so much. Maybe it’s time to head home.

  “So?” She asks after a silent spell that had my mind wandering.

  “So?”

  “You said you never got to tell her how you felt, so how do you feel about her?”

  “I love her, Finn.” I effortlessly say the words so quickly I take myself by surprise. They feel right, and the smile that fills my face mirrors the one creeping across Finn’s as I stare at the screen.

  “Oh, wow, Pink, that’s…” Her lips thin and take a sudden downturn. She looks too sad. “I’m so sorry. Charge told me the situation. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know that there’s much I can do. She won’t risk her Grampa’s farm for the sake of her own happiness. She said as much tonight. I don’t understand how anyone can be that selfless. This is her life, Finn. She doesn’t love Kurt. She knows he’s cheating on her, and none of that matters. It’s insane.” I feel frustration run like pure rage through my blood, bubbling to a boiling point I’m barely able to contain.

  “Did you tell her how you felt?”

  “No. She must know how I feel. When we’re together, it’s a different kind of insane.” Finn grins with understanding.

  “Pink, if you love her, you have to tell her. You have to say the actual words.”

  “What if it doesn’t change anything Finn? I don’t think I could handle—”

  She cuts into my reticence before I can finish expressing my fear. “If you don’t tell her, she can’t make that decision. You never know, it might be the catalyst she needs. You have to understand, she’s spent her entire adult life preparing to fulfill an obligation that is out of her control. She may genuinely believe she has no choice.”

  “That’s exactly what she believes.”

  “Then it’s up to you to make her see that’s not the case and only telling her that you love her will do that.”

  “You’re putting an awful lot of weight on three little words.”

  “Trust me, they make all the difference.”

  “What about the farm? Kurt’s family will take it if she doesn’t marry him.”

  “I didn’t say it was going to be easy, but if I know my men, they are not afraid of a challenge.”

  “You got that right, darlin’. I’m gonna tell her now.”

  “Um, Pink, it’s the middle of the night. She might not want to hear it right now,” she warns, shaking her head at my crazy suggestion.

  “I have to. I can’t wait another minute.” Turning the ignition and flooring the gas with a loud roar I’m about to end the call.

  Finn visibly shivers, grinning like the Cheshire Cat and tugging at the collar of her sweater. “Gosh, you men are fucking hot when you go all alpha. She’s a very lucky woman. Best of luck, Pink.”

  “Thanks. Love you, darlin’.’”

  “Love you too.” I end the call, floor the gas and tear up the street toward Buttercup’s farm.

  The farm is pitch dark, and I’m about to start pounding on the front door like a crazy man when I glance back to where I have parked my truck and realize that Buttercup’s truck isn’t in the drive. The garage is full of farm vehicles and a rusted old Mustang that will likely never again see its glory days. It’s possible she parked around the back, but I don’t see why she would. I walk back down the steps and shine the flashlight on my phone over the ground. The only fresh tire marks are the ones I made. My stomach knots and rolls with a sick feeling. She’s not here.

  I make a fist and pound on the door, having decided to risk the wrath of waking her grampa rather than drive myself crazy with worry.

  I have to find her.

  I have to tell her. Even if I there’s a very high probability it’s not going to change anything. She loves me, even if she’s only known me for a matter of weeks, and I’m counting on more than a change of heart. I’m counting on the change of a lifetime. I just hope Finn’s right and that telling her I love her will make all the difference.

  “Who’s there?” Joshua’s gruff voice is overshadowed by the telltale click of a gun being locked and loaded.

  “Joshua, sir, it’s me, Pink. I’m looking for Buttercup. I have to tell her something.” He cracks the door a fraction, enough to poke the barrel of the gun through. He lowers it when he sees me.

  “What’s so important you gotta wake up the whole damn farm? Can’t it wait until morning?” He rests the gun by the doorframe and rubs his face. Suspicion narrows his eyes and he tries to peer over my shoulder. Satisfied I’m on my own, he steps back and ushers me inside with a resigned nod of his head.

  “No, sir, I’m afraid it can’t.”

  “All right, son, wait here.” Rolling his eyes, he shuffles back down the narrow hallway toward the stairs.

  “Thank you.” I close the door behind me and begin anxiously rocking from one foot to the other, listening to the glacial pace he’s walking along the landing overhead. Patience isn’t one of my virtues, and before I can’t check my manners, I am on Joshua’s heel as he pushes open the door to what I assume is Buttercup’s room. The bed is made, several dresses are strewn over the end, and a pile of shoes is heaped next to several open boxes of the floor.

  “Where is she?” The panic in my voice is clipped with self-directed anger. I should never have let her go in the first place. She could be anywhere. She could be with him. No, I won’t entertain that idea; there’s still a loaded gun downstairs.

  “Well, I’m not sure.” Joshua scratches his beard, blinking at the bright light in the room and looking more puzzled that worried. “She said she was going to be late, maybe she decided to stay at Bonny’s place after the party.”

  “There wasn’t any party.”

  “There wasn’t?”

  “No. Do you know where she might go?”

  “She never stays out without telling me. She’s probably been called out for work. I wouldn’t worry; she’s a good girl. She’ll be home by morning. Have you tried her phone? She always has that on her.”

  “It goes to her answering service.”

  “Well son, I think we’re all out of options. Like I say, she’s a good girl; she’ll be fine. I suggest you go back to the cabin and come back in the morning, or if you want, you can sleep on the couch.” He closes Buttercup’s bedroom door and walks us back down the corridor and stairs. He points to the lumpy looking couch, and
until now, I thought the one in the cabin was the saddest looking thing I’d ever seen not dumped on the side of a road.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m not sure she’d want to see me here, waiting on her like some stalker.”

  “If you say so. Although I think she kinda likes you. Shame she’s in love with that other guy.” He shrugs and the tone of casual indifference makes me wonder if I should say something. I don’t. It’s not my place, and honestly, I think I’ve done enough damage for one night. For this particular topic I will be there for Buttercup when she needs me, if she needs me.

  “Yeah, that is a shame. Sorry I woke you.”

  “What was the emergency? I can tell her if you want.” He holds the door for me.

  “No, no emergency, just needed to…apologize.”

  “She’ll forgive you, she’s good like that.” I’ll cling to the fact he knows her far better than I do, and I can only hope he’s right.

  Still a knot the size of a boulder rolls in my gut with the very real possibility…

  “She might not.”

  There’s barely any point in trying to sleep. Instead, I take Daisy out to the river to watch the sunrise. She is happy to walk close by my side. I have a loose lead of soft rope and a makeshift collar for her safety. Deer are still flight animals, and I can’t risk her running off at the first foreign sound that frightens her. Her leg is mostly healed, but she wouldn’t survive in the wild, not yet and possibly not ever, something Buttercup and I have discussed and need to resolve; however, right now, I have other things on my mind, and I’m sure she does too. Where did she stay last night?

  Daisy is tentatively picking her way down the gentle slope to the edge of the river. I crouch down and watch her drink, her ears flicking forward, back, and all around with every new sound, birds starting to wake, crickets and critters scurrying in the undergrowth. Day breaks with the impending sunrise casting a cool light that glows warmer with every passing minute. The edge of the horizon starts to burn, and the instant the brilliant light bursts over the landscape, I move my ass. Leading Daisy, I put her back in her pen. I’m so damn eager to head over to Buttercup’s farm.

  She’s got to be back by now.

  It’s funny… When you finally make the decision to tell someone you love them, it hurts like a motherfucker every second you keep it from them.

  Her truck is there, and my heart kicks up a gear. Leaping from my vehicle, I race, breathless and nervous, and start pounding on the front door.

  Joshua opens it, rubbing his tired eyes, and I wince with a flash of guilt that I’m the reason he’s probably had as little sleep as I have. I open my mouth and snap it shut when he shuts me down.

  “She’s not here. She left and won’t be back until the night before the wedding.”

  “What?” I can’t hide my shock. I feel the color drain from my face when he explains.

  “Kurt brought her home and helped her pack. They left about an hour ago.”

  “Where has she gone?”

  “Out to the family estate in the hill country. They have rehearsals and fittings and oh, I don’t know, but there’s a lot of stuff to get finalized. She told me to give you this, if you showed up.” He hands me a small handwritten envelope with my name on the front.

  “I’m sorry, Pink. I like you, but it’s probably best you move on.” His brow furrows, and he looks all kinds of uncomfortable. I’m devastated, dragging my hand over my head and fighting the well of heartbreak clawing at my throat. This isn’t happening.

  I don’t want to take the letter, nothing good comes from a letter given in these circumstances. “What did she say?”

  He pushes it into my hand. “She didn’t have to say anything. What girl wouldn’t have her head turned by a handsome fella like you? Especially someone like Buttercup, a sweet, romantic young woman, sheltered and a little naïve. But I know my granddaughter. She loves Kurt, always has.” The pity in his tone is misplaced. It’s also the final straw. I snap, since Buttercup is gone and is clearly set on marry that douchebag. It seems I have nothing left to lose by telling the truth.

  “She doesn’t love him and never has, but she won’t let you lose the farm. She loves you so much she’ll sacrifice her own happiness. So please, tell me again that you know your granddaughter.”

  “Nonsense, that’s a damn lie.” He pushes me hard in the chest. This place is prison, a picturesque millstone that will drain the life from a beautiful soul. I move back because I can no longer stand to be here.

  “Ask her yourself, Joshua.”

  “Get off my farm!”

  “Ask her if she’s really happy marrying a man who knows full well he’s blackmailing her into marriage. His father loaned you more than you could ever repay because Kurt asked him to. He knew it was the only way Buttercup would ever agree to marry him. She knows how much you love this farm and she feels she owes you so much. She’d never tell you how fucking heartbroken she is. He’s fucking her best friend and she’s still going to marry him, Joshua! She’s a fucking saint, and she’s marrying the devil.”

  “You have no right to say such things.”

  “No? Well, if I don’t, no one else will. Everyone that is supposed to care about her is more concerned about their own happiness. Marrying the prettiest girl in town like some trophy, keeping hold of a farm that is too much for a man half your age to manage, and for what?”

  “You’re a stranger passing through. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “And you’re her grandfather. You’re supposed to love her, Joshua, so how come this stranger is the only one that can see the truth? She’s fucking dying inside and the whole town is hanging out the flags.”

  “If I see you again messing with Buttercup, I’ll shoot you, understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” I grit out, returning to my truck and speeding away before I do something I’ll regret.

  Am I the only one that can see the crazy here?

  “WHERE’S MY VEIL?” THE FINAL fitting of my dress and I have Kurt’s mother and Bonny fussing around me like I don’t exist. “Where’s my grandma’s veil?” I repeat.

  I’m trying to keep this darn smile on my face, even if the weight of my heart keeps pulling it down into the pits of despair. I just want to cry. I keep going over my last conversation with Pink. The truth of it was painful enough, writing that letter hurt more than I could bear, and the thought that I’ll never see him again is killing me. I keep telling myself it’s the only way, and I hate every second of it.

  “Here it is!” Bonny declares with a shrill sing-song voice while swishing a long length of pristine silk chiffon, holding the end with a crystal-encrusted headpiece in one hand and the remaining swathes of fabric over the other arm.

  “No, that’s not it. I want my grandma’s veil. I gave it to Kurt last week.” I’m standing on a small cushioned stool in one of the bedroom suites set aside for the bride and bridesmaids’ outfits. Looking around, I can’t see anything that resembles the antique lace and headpiece that belonged to my grandmother.

  “It didn’t look right.” Kurt’s mother, Deborah, tsks, waving her hand as if what she’s said is of no consequence. The tentative hold I had on my emotions snaps. Hooking the hem of my dress up, I jump down from my elevated position and face Deborah.

  “I don’t care if it looked right or not. It’s the only thing I asked to wear. Where is it?” Stomping around the room, I start unzipping bags containing dresses and lifting boxes in the hope I’ll find what I’m looking for. I can see Bonny looking at Deborah, anxiously wringing her hands together. Deborah rolls her eyes and nods for Bonny to do something to fix the situation. I’m not sure what she can do when everything is so darn wrong. Bonny rushes over to one of the tables piled high with more boxes. She picks out several small ivory lace bags.

  “Um, here and here and…here.” She lays them out on the end of the bed and I gape.

  “I don’t understand.” Looking closely, I recognize the material but I still can�
�t comprehend what’s actually happened.

  Deborah delights in enlightening me. “I had the material made into posy pouches for the bridesmaids to carry the rose petals.”

  My vision blurs with instant tears. “So not only has it been completely destroyed and cut into a dozen pieces, I don’t even get to carry it?”

  “The color didn’t match your dress,” she snaps.

  “How could you be so heartless?” My voice catches and I have to grit my teeth to hold back the surge of sobs choking up my throat.

  “Don’t be so dramatic,” Bonny huffs.

  Shock slaps indignation across Deborah’s face. “Well, I never—” I don’t let her finish. It’s another first, and if I wasn’t so distraught, it would feel pretty good to stand up for myself, for once.

  “Please leave.” I swallow the lump in my throat, and my nails pierce the soft flesh of my palms as I continue fighting to stop myself from crying. I won’t cry in front of them.

  Bonny mutters under her breath as she walks by. “Buttercup, I’m sorry. You know what she’s like. She was the same with my wedding.”

  As if that’s supposed to help.

  I leave the stunning wedding dress on the bed. It’s delicate, beautiful, fits to every curve on my body with complete perfection, and I couldn’t be more indifferent to it. I’d much prefer to be slipping into my cut-off shorts and an old t-shirt. Unfortunately, I wasn’t allowed to bring anything remotely comfy or ‘masculine’ when I sent a selection of clothes here last week. I was summoned to stay here during the week leading up to the big day. I didn’t really want to, but as with everything else, I didn’t get a say; however, after my fight with Pink, it seemed like the right thing to do.

  A clean break, no distractions.

  I’ve lived with this decision long enough that I’m mostly numb; however, seeing it through fresh eyes hurts beyond compare, and when those eyes stare into my soul, reflecting the way I look at him, it’s unbearable.

  The guest room where I am staying is at the far end of the house, and I like the quiet. Some of the extended family have started to arrive and my face constantly aches, forcing the sweet smile everyone expects to see on such a lucky girl. Every chance I get I hide here, but I haven’t seen my grampa in five days and I’m getting stir crazy. I grab a light cardigan that matches the pale blue flowers on my summer dress and, wearing a pair of cute silver sandals, I skip down the servants’ staircase. My attempt to slip out unnoticed through the back entrance to the pantry is not successful.