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Worth the Price

Page 3

by Delilah Hunt


  “I’m not dating him.” She pursed her lips. It was now or never. If she was going to be Brandon’s wife and give the marriage a real shot, then she needed to start right this minute instead of cowering before her father. “I’m not dating, Brandon,” she repeated. “I’m engaged to him. He asked me to marry him today and I accepted.”

  Her father looked around his office as if he were searching for hidden cameras. “Is this one of those reality show pranks?”

  Danika crossed her arms. A surge of pity rose inside for him. Beneath her father’s anger was a truckload of hurt.

  “I wouldn’t joke about getting married.”

  “You’re standing before me,” he said through clenched teeth, “telling me you’re getting married to Brandon Sharpe, the devil who’s responsible for all of our problems.”

  She took a deep breath. “That devil as you call him, is the one who’s going to get us out of this mess. He’s…He’s willing to help us.”

  “Help who? I’ve never asked Sharpe for a damn thing except to sell me back the property he snatched from under my nose.”

  Danika shifted her leg. “He’s helping us. That’s all I’m going to say.”

  “You’ve told Sharpe everything, haven’t you? That sneaky bastard knows my business is going under and you’re willing to sell yourself to him.”

  Ouch. She flinched. Would Brandon also view their marriage in such terms‌—‌that he had bought and paid for her services.

  “I didn’t sell myself.”

  “Let me ask you this. Is Sharpe in love with you? Are you in love with him?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  His face closed up. “That’s what I thought. I wonder how long this so-called marriage will work. If it even reaches that point.”

  “I told you I’m marrying him. Why wouldn’t the ceremony take place?”

  “Take a look in the mirror, Dani. You and Sharpe have about as much in common as me and a sheepherder in Siberia.”

  “There’s no need to exaggerate. I’m not blind. I’m also to assume you’re not talking about his disfigurement either.” Danika issued him a hard stare. “I don’t care if we’re not the same race and I wouldn’t involve myself in any way, shape or form with someone who took issue with who I am.”

  “You think everything in life is that simple don’t you? I suppose you have no reason not to since I’ve given you everything you ever wanted. All I see is an ungrateful child standing in front of me. You want to make an example of yourself, fine go ahead and marry him. As a matter of fact, from here on out I say let Sharpe, your knight in shining armor deal with you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m making myself clear, Danika. You’re twenty-three years old. You have a solid job, a degree. I’ve taken care of you long enough and you seem to be under the impression I’m no longer capable of taking care of my own affairs. It’s high time you found a place of your own and see the harsh reality of life. Maybe then you’ll understand why I’m dead set against Sharpe and this union you want to embarrass me with.”

  “Just like that you expect me to leave. Where would I even go?”

  His thick dark brows lifted in mockery. “How about to your fiancé? Tell Sharpe if he spreads one word about my company I’ll come after him with everything I have.”

  “You have nothing. He’s willing to help us. What part of that don’t you understand?”

  “No, Danika. You’re the one who doesn’t understand what you’re getting yourself involved in.” He moved past her and paused by the doorway. “I’m through discussing this with you. You’re a grown woman. Do whatever you want.”

  She clutched her throat. Dear God. He wasn’t joking. Quickly, she thought of her options. Her father had mentioned the Bar S, but that was out of the question. She had enough pride left not to show up on Brandon’s doorstep again pleading for further assistance.

  Gathering said pride; she reached for her father’s hand in a final attempt to knock some sense into his head. “I don’t mind moving out. You’re right in that regard. But please don’t dismiss what I’ve said to you and don’t be so quick to turn help away.”

  He peeled her fingers away. “I’m washing my hands clean of you, girl. I never thought the day would come when my own daughter would betray me worse than anyone else. It’s fair to say your mother would be ashamed.”

  Danika bit back the hurt and squared her shoulders. “If Mama was going to be ashamed of anyone, it wouldn’t be me. All I can say is, I hope you’ll change your mind. I really do. When you open your eyes and return to your senses you’ll see how wrong you were about Brandon.”

  His coarse laughter echoed in the room. “Keep thinking Sharpe is some kind of a saint just because he has that ugly mug. You mark my words, when the novelty of having a pretty black girl wears off for him, you’ll be out on the street within a minute.”

  “As of right now, Daddy, you’re the only one who’s turned his back on me. My marriage won’t be a failure.” Dear Lord, she wasn’t even married to Brandon yet and already she was causing problems for him.

  Worth the Price

  “You’re getting what?”

  Brandon glowered at his foreman. The lanky ranch hand was gaping at him as if he had grown two heads. Clint Rivers was the oldest worker on the ranch, pushing into his sixties and a former alcoholic. When no one else in Hart’s Fall was willing to give the drifter a job, Brandon had. He’d made it clear however, at the first sign of drunkenness the ranch hand might just as well pack up and leave. That had been over two years ago and to this day Brandon had never witnessed the worker with a bottle of liquor or any behavior indicating he had resumed the habit again.

  “You heard what I said. I’m getting married.”

  Clint yanked his earlobe. “Hot damn. Thought I was hearing things for a split-second.” A wide grin showcased his missing bottom row of teeth. “Wonder how Frank’s gonna take it you marrying his li’l gal seeing as how he thinks you sabotaged his car on the way to that auction.”

  Brandon failed to share in his friend’s good humor. Asking Danika to marry him had been a spur of the moment decision‌—‌an opportunity he knew would never grace the likes of him again. Prescott’s opinion of him was the last thing on his mind.

  “Yeah well. There’s no need to get ahead of ourselves. If Prescott doesn’t talk her out of it, she’s bound to change her mind.”

  Clint’s toothless grin faltered. The ranch hand ran a hand along his wrinkled face. “Scared she’s gonna take another look at you and run off?”

  He didn’t take offense at the question. Clint was honest to a fault and plainspoken. Neither man appreciated being lied to. That was one of the reasons Brandon had taken a liking to his foreman. And quite frankly the question rang true.

  Was twenty thousand dollars enough to keep Danika from being nauseated at the thought of him touching her?

  “Scared? No. More like waiting for it to happen.” He did have to give her credit though. She had looked him in the face when talking to him instead of a faked interest in the sky, foliage or whatever insect happened to be crawling on the ground.

  “Well,” Clint drawled, chest puffed out wide. “Been through a few relationships m’self and every woman is different. Ain’t no two alike ’cept for them all wanting the same thing‌—‌a bit of wooing, romance, girly things.”

  And a man they’d be proud to walk beside. Brandon hated that his nerves were more skittish than a newborn foal with worrying if Danika would go through with the marriage.

  “If wooing and romancing is involved, then it’s better if she stay at her da’s. She won’t get that from me.” It would have been simpler if he had agreed to loan her the money, instead of setting himself up for an even bigger rejection down the road.

  Clint eyed him warily. “I’m still trying to wrap my brain around all this. You’ve gone tightlipped on me, Bran. For someone who’s engaged, you sure ain’t acting like a man w
ho gives a fig if the wedding happens.”

  “I never said I didn’t care. I’m trying to be realistic here. I haven’t heard a peep from her since we spoke last week. No point in getting my hopes up, is there?”

  “Oh, so now we’re getting somewhere. Figured you’d be lonely out here after all. Ain’t natural for a man to live by himself for so many years.”

  Natural or not, had it not been for his irrational attraction to the petite, ebony-skinned girl, he would have been content to remain alone. The looks of horror and disgust he garnered on his occasional visits into town, he could have lived with. But he was stupid and had wanted more. He wanted Danika and seeing her inside his house, vulnerable and pleading for his help had sent a surge of longing sweeping through him like a wildfire on the hottest day of summer. Well, he got what he wanted and now was about to make her a prime target for ridicule.

  He voiced his concern to Clint. “I’ve set that girl up for a heaping of humiliation if she wears my ring.”

  “Then why’d you ask her? I’m confused. I’ve never seen her on the Bar S much less heard you mention a word about seeing Frank’s kid, and all of a sudden she’s gonna to be your wife. What am I missing here?”

  Brandon fought back the bitter taste in his mouth. Of course Clint had never seen Danika around the ranch. Prescott had taken care of that. The last time Prescott had set foot on the Bar S, had been with Danika in tow. Oh Brandon had seen her before, but with her behind Prescott, skin color and race aside, he’d known right off the bat she was his kid. That alone had been enough to put him in sour mood. The older man had given him an extra heaping of the evil eye while trying to shield her from his view. Brandon wished he’d been able to keep from looking at her. If he hadn’t failed at that simple task, Prescott would have never picked up on his attraction to Danika.

  “Bran?”

  Clint waved a hand and Brandon quickly remembered his friend’s question. Scrubbing a hand along his beard, he cast a furtive glance around the pasture. There was no one else around except for the herd of cattle grazing on the fresh grass. “You won’t breathe a word of this to anyone. If I hear anything from the other hands…”

  “C’mon Bran. I swear it. Not a word.”

  “Prescott’s business is going under,” Brandon confided. “They’re set to lose everything after they pay off their debts. Danika wants to help her old man. God knows why. She needed the money so I promised to give her twenty grand if she agreed to marry me and move out here on the ranch.”

  “Twenty grand. Mother of Christ, don’t tell me that’s the money you had saved up for the new corral system?”

  Brandon jammed a hand inside his pocket. “Buying the corral isn’t a necessity for the ranch. Plus, the money is only a minor setback. ”

  “Not necessary? You’ve been grumbling for the better part of the year about how much we need a bigger system. It ain’t like when we first started and the Bar S only had a hundred head of cattle. There’s over a thousand to get through for the season.”

  Brandon stiffened. “I didn’t tell you any of this to get your approval. Danika and I already struck the deal.”

  “So this gal is more important than everything you’ve worked so hard for? Lordy. Give her a part-time job. She can help Dobson cook for the guys if she’s that desperate.”

  “No!” He was willing to do whatever it took to make sure the ranch stayed secure and afloat, with the almond-shaped-eyed beauty at his side. And that twenty thousand dollars was the key to a life he thought was a promise for every other man. Every other man except for him.

  “I want her, Clint, but I’m not stupid either. This is the only way I can have her. The corral can wait. Better yet I’ll build the damn thing myself.”

  His foreman whistled low. “I hope you know what you’re doing and I hope Frank’s li’l gal doesn’t hurt you in the end.”

  Before Brandon could get in a response, the ranch hand cocked his head to the side and asked in a conversational tone. “How do you think your pal Frank is gonna take it when he hears the news? You don’t think he’d take a hand to the gal?”

  Brandon shook his head. As intense as his dislike for Prescott was, not once had the thought crossed his mind. The old man treasured his daughter. In turn, if Danika didn’t love and admire her father, she wouldn’t have ventured onto the Bar S in search of help at the price of her dignity, he could bet.

  “Prescott wouldn’t harm a hair on her head,” Brandon said, partly to reassure himself she was all right. He should have insisted she stay on the ranch before getting married. An image of the little spitfire, dark eyes blazing with indignation made his lips twitch. Somehow he didn’t think that idea would have gone over so well with her. Nevertheless, the desperate part of him that foolishly made him begin to view her as his own became restless. He had to see with his own eyes that Danika was truly all right.

  Worth the Price

  One of the main features Danika cherished about her hometown was the downtown area. The circular design made navigation to her favorite stores a breeze. Sure it wasn’t spectacular when compared to other towns such as Helena and Billings, with their big malls and designer shops, but the town square was the one place no matter which direction a person took, they were guaranteed to meet upon a familiar face and have a cup of coffee or a glass of soda at Evelyn’s Café. Unfortunately, it was also the place you could count on to meet up with anyone you were avoiding. Namely one towering bear of a man, who insisted on wearing his darned hat tipped low and had his lips slanted at an angle in what else she supposed, but irritation.

  Danika curled her fingers around the plastic bag of groceries she had just purchased and met him halfway between the hardware store and the post office. His icy blue eyes were trained on her every movement.

  “Good morning.”

  “Where have you been?”

  She flinched and took a step backward before immediate regret set in. There hadn’t been a trace of anger in his tone, despite the brashness. She didn’t want him to think she was afraid of him. Regaining her composure, Danika beamed. “A greeting would be nice, Brandon.”

  Like before at the ranch, a tinge of crimson stained the top of his cheeks. “Sorry,” he muttered “Good morning. Where have you been?”

  “At home. Where else would I be?” She whispered a silent prayer that Brandon had no clue her father had kicked her out.

  “Don’t lie to me. I wanted to see if you still needed the money, so I stopped off at your da’s place a while ago.”

  Her eyes flew open. She couldn’t suppress the gasp that slipped past her lips. “You went to my father’s house? Why, Brandon? Why would you do that?”

  “Exactly. Yer da’s house. Why didn’t you tell me he kicked you out?”

  Danika raised her brows. She had incited him enough to draw out that strong lilt again. Was that concern for her beneath his anger? She lifted a shoulder, not wanting Brandon to realize how affected she was by her father’s actions. “It is his house after all. He didn’t want me there anymore. I had to accept it. Why should I have come to you? You’ve already offered your help once. I can handle this on my own.”

  His eyes bore into hers. “You got yourself a place?”

  The hard glint in his eyes dared her to lie to him again. “No. I’ve been staying with a friend from childhood. She was kind enough to let me crash there for a while. That is what friends are for, right?”

  The grim expression on his face remained. “Maybe.”

  A thought struck her. Danika eyed him in puzzlement. Did Brandon have any friends? Each and every time she had seen him around town he was always alone. More important, never with a woman by his side.

  He looked her up and down. “How long do you plan on staying there?”

  “I don’t know.” She was still unsure if their marriage ceremony would take place. “I suppose I should start apartment hunting soon.”

  In typical Brandon fashion, he cut right to the chase, his tone low and firm. �
��Do you still want the money?”

  Her stomach cramped. For a moment she almost wished she hadn’t gone to him and asked for the loan. Not because she didn’t need it. God knows they were in desperate financial straits, but…it didn’t sit well with her to know Brandon assumed the money was the extent of her interest in him.

  “I need it.” Danika inhaled and asked the question, which had been plaguing her for days. “Do you still want me to be your wife?”

  His eyes held hers for a minute longer than she was comfortable with. “I want it, Cailín.”

  Danika blushed at his use of the term for the second time. “What does that mean?” Please let it be something special.

  Looking away, he scratched the back of his neck. “It’s a silly word. I won’t use it again and you probably won’t like what it means.”

  Butterflies fluttered inside her stomach and her pulsed skipped with excitement. Now she really needed to know. “Please tell me.”

  “It means girl.” His eyes roamed over her frame as if he wanted to assure her she was all woman.

  Her lips spread into a satisfied grin. She studied the rough yet adorably shy man who would soon become her husband. The man she would eventually share a bed with and so much more.

  Wishing to remove the anxiety from his face, Danika teased, “You think I’m a girl, Brandon?” His lids lowered and immediately the laughter that had been hovering at the back her throat, was replaced by a warm tingle pulsing between her thighs. She didn’t need to track his gaze to know Brandon’s eyes were perusing, possibly evaluating, her entire frame.

  “I don’t. Would be kind of hard to see you as a girl.”

  Danika smiled. “I was messing with you.”

  He nodded although she had the feeling he wasn’t used to being joked or played with. Danika glanced up at him. She wanted to touch his face but common sense told her he would yank her hand away from his body. Yearning for the simple contact, she tentatively reached out and slid her fingers against his. “I’m going to be a good wife, Brandon. Just wait and see.”

 

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