Well, if it had all gone according to plan. Unfortunately for Fausto, things rarely went according to plan.
Summoned by his father who was not meant to live out the rest of the week—or so the doctors said—he sat in the hospital with his younger brother, Nolan. The younger of the two of them was crying. He had always been closer to their father than Fausto had been. Fausto stood to the side, unsure and wavering. If he wanted to make a good impression, he would go to his father’s side. However, he knew that the will was already written. It didn’t matter what he did so long as his father didn’t get to see his lawyer again.
“My boys,” Reuben croaked. His voice was weak, sounding rather like a dying instrument than a man who had once been incredibly powerful and strong. “I wish only to see the two of you succeed.”
His hand reached up for Nolan, and he snatched it right away, holding it close to his chest.
“We will be as great as you were,” Nolan assured.
Fausto sneered at the sight of his younger brother being so sentimental. Luckily, his father’s blind eyes couldn’t see the horrible expression on his handsome face.
“I know you will,” Reuben whispered. “I want for you two to fix all of the mistakes that I have made in the past. Have children, marry beautiful women, live your lives,” he instructed. Fausto held back a smirk, it wouldn’t be hard for him to live that life. After all, he was the one that the money and racing company were going to be entrusted to. “I have only ever wanted what was best for the two of you,” he groaned.
Nolan nodded. He squeezed their father’s hand, his other reaching out to pet through the sweaty, snowy hairs thrown sparsely atop their father’s head. “We know that,” he said. “We know that you only ever wanted what was best for the two of us. We know that,” he repeated.
Fausto rolled his eyes at the sick display of emotion. On the bedside table next to their father, his will lay, wrapped tightly in a red ribbon with the family seal carved in cooled wax to hold it closed. It was all he wanted. It was the whole reason he had showed up that day.
As if on cue, their father began to reach for the rolled up paper. Neither boy moved to help him, watching in a revered silence. Fausto was at the edge of his seat, waiting with baited breath. Reuben’s shaky, decrepit fingers finally reached the rolled paper, and snatched it from the table with a strange air of grace.
Fausto stood then and only then, and walked over to their father’s bedside. A little smile passed onto Reuben’s lips. He handed the parchment over, and Fausto took it with gentle fingers.
“Are you sure about this?” Fausto asked.
“I know,” Reuben said with a groan, “that these things are supposed to wait until I am dead. In a sense, I am dead now. You boys are all I have left. And the only other things that matter are enclosed in my will. Please do not hate each other over what I have chosen. I know the both of you so well, and I know who needed to receive what.”
A conniving grin spread across Fausto’s lips. The parchment crackled in his hold as he tightened his grip on it. “Of course, Father,” he said.
Nolan was nodding as well. “You know what is best,” he agreed. He glanced over his shoulder at Fausto, only able to catch the last, faint traces of the ugly expression that had been resting there a moment earlier. “We trust you.”
“Of course we do,” Fausto agreed.
“Go and read it, Fausto,” Reuben replied. “I know that you want to.” He sighed, and sank back into his bedding. “I know that it is all you want in this life.”
Fausto held back a smart remark. It was all and more than he could ever want in one thousand lifetimes. He took a respectful leave, and unrolled the document. Most of it was a load of nonsense, things meant for Nolan, or words of how he only tried to do what was right. The only section that caught his eye was the one that began with To Fausto I leave…
Fausto’s eyes ate up the words hungrily at first, but the last clause made him halt. Anger seared through each and every inch of his being. He had been left all of the wealth of the Redman family, but on one condition. One condition that made his blood boil and his thoughts turn into liquid fire. He had never been angrier in his life, at the old man lying in the bed, or at himself for thinking that it would all fall into place so easily.
If he were to inherit the family riches, he needed to do but one thing.
Marry a woman and have a child with her.
Chapter Two
Lucrecia sat with her only friend in New York City, a harlot named Morgan who was trying to con a few more pennies from passersby and strangers. Lucrecia couldn’t remember for the life of her how she had come across Morgan and ended up her best friend, but it was the greatest thing to ever happen to her. They were in a park, seated on an uncomfortable bench that was nearly soaked with bird droppings. Lucrecia made sure not to lean her back against it, and sat where it was cleanest, but Morgan had no care. For a harlot, she wasn’t the cleanest of people.
Lucrecia could see Morgan’s eyes darting between the men and the women, trying to find a man who was available. The women she only looked at to stew over how envious she was of their good fortune. Lucrecia didn’t blame her; she longed to be the person who could wear clothing like that and not stick out like a sore thumb. Morgan swiped her thumb over her tongue, and turned a page in the newspaper she was reading. A cackle erupted from her throat, drawing the attention of a few onlookers.
“You won’t believe this,” Morgan scoffed, though she bore a large grin. No doubt it was something grim, she was the type of person to take pleasure in a badly written obituary. “I can’t believe some people would actually fall for this load of malarkey,” she muttered. With a flick of the pages to straighten them out, Morgan offered the words for Lucrecia to see.
Lucrecia glanced over at the words, not taking too long to actually read what was being said. She hated the paper that Morgan read, it was all lies and slander.
However, the words that Morgan were pointing to with a painted nail caught her eye in a flash. It was under a section labeled Matrimonial News. The usual was there, the announcement of weddings and of engagement parties. A few hush-hush divorces that might have not even been true.
“What’s so funny?” Lucrecia asked as the scanned the paper.
“Just look at this!” Morgan insisted. She clarified her pointing, directed at the pictures of young men. Some were handsome, some were ugly and crippled. “These poor saps are looking for wives!” she exclaimed.
Lucrecia’s eyes widened just slightly. The pictures were in no particular order, but she couldn’t help but think that she knew the man in the first picture. He was in his mid-twenties, and sporting the looks of a man who could be a politician somewhere.
“This is absolutely incredible!”
Lucrecia rolled her eyes at Morgan. She was at it again, making fun of other people for her own amusement. Though she tried to hide it, a spark of interest had flared up deep within her belly. She strained her eyes to read the words without being too obvious. These men were offering to pay a woman’s way to where they lived. Some were from the South, others from places far to the west that Lucrecia had never heard of.
“I can’t believe something like this exists,” Lucrecia muttered.
“They’re just too desperate,” Morgan said, as though it were obvious.
“I can’t believe that you would call someone too desperate, Morgan,” Lucrecia teased. “You do know that you’re willing to sell your body for a few extra pennies?”
Morgan scoffed. She didn’t like to talk about it all that often, and it led to Lucrecia winning more than just one argument. It was the best way to put Morgan’s hypocrisy to an end, even if just for a few seconds. Lucrecia worried at her lower lip between her teeth, staring at the man who had caught her attention the first time. What were the chances that the picture wasn’t true at all? What if an offer like this got her killed?
“I wonder if those are their real pictures,” Lucrecia mused.
/> “Why do you care about that?” Morgan asked. “You know that this can’t be true, right? And if it is, they’re horrible men. Why can’t they get a wife where they live, huh?”
“Morgan, have you ever thought that maybe they don’t like any of the women from where they live?” Lucrecia asked. “Maybe there aren’t any women.”
“Lucrecia, you listen to me now,” Morgan demanded, her eyes going cold. “You cannot afford to do something like this. They could hurt you, they could kill you? Do you want to get out of New York so badly that you would risk your very life?”
“I don’t think I would be killed,” Lucrecia replied. “Besides, if they only want me there to look nice and maybe fix a few meals, I can do that easily.”
“You’re not exactly wife material,” Morgan teased.
Lucrecia smiled, knowing that it was true. She had nothing to offer a husband, not even a meager dowry for bringing her halfway across the country in a train.
“I won’t do it,” Lucrecia assured. “There’s no point in getting worked up over all of this, I was just thinking aloud,” she said. “Why would I want to leave you for?”
Morgan’s worried expression gradually faded into a smile. She let out a terse sigh and leaned back against the framework of the bench. Lucrecia curled her nose, but didn’t say anything about it. Willing to let the topic drop, Morgan continued to pore through her newspaper. Lucrecia’s attention, however, was locked somewhere far away. In her mind’s eye, she could still see the handsome young man. Without making a sound, she tested his name in place of hers, just to see if it could end up working out.
Lucrecia Fausto.
She found herself smiling. Mrs. Lucrecia Fausto. She liked the powerful ring that it had to it. She liked the entire prospect, if she were being honest.
Chapter Three
After the first letter that Fausto received from a would-be bride, he took her offer immediately. He had no idea if it was a scam, but no doubt those same thoughts were in her head as well. Fausto knew it all looked suspicious, a wealth, influential man like himself unable to find a bride. Out in the middle of Montana, there weren’t many women that were looking.
There were a few scattered throughout the city that their racing track was located in, but most of them were already married women. Their husbands had dragged them along in an attempt to strike it rich with the new businesses and the new profits that were rising up seemingly out of thin air.
Fausto couldn’t blame them. After all, that was exactly what his father had done, and he and his brother had inherited that opulence. Any man who didn’t try to be like them was an idiot, and was doomed to be no more than a poor farmer for the rest of his life.
Fausto sneered at the thought. He was lucky that his father had been such a profitable man.
He sat on a bench in the train station, glancing at his pocket watch every few minutes. He had no idea when the train was set to arrive that would carry his bride to him, but it needed to be sooner. The sooner that a woman arrived, the sooner he would be able to take what was rightfully his from his stupid father.
Nolan was at their father’s bedside as he waited for his bride, the old man rumored to have no more than a few hours left. Fausto couldn’t help but roll his eyes. If he had a dollar for every time that had been said to them by the doctors, he wouldn’t need to be trying so hard to earn his inheritance. Fausto knew the impression that he was making upon Nolan, and he knew the impression that Nolan had had of him since their mid-teenage years.
It didn’t matter to him.
Nothing mattered to him anymore.
A train station guard walked by, and Fausto stood to catch his attention.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said, although there was no need to call the man sir. There was deference to him simply for being who he was. “When will the train be arriving?” he asked.
“Within the hour, Mr. Redman,” the man replied. He dipped his head, and excused himself from the conversation.
With nothing better to do with his time, Fausto sat back down on the bench. He crossed his arms and stared at where the train would be coming from in no time, as if his will alone would force it to move faster than it already was. He hoped that the girl he had bought a very expensive train ticket for was actually on her way. He hoped that she was pretty. The last thing he needed was an ugly wife and child.
* * * * *
At half past the hour, a man came from the front of the train and through the box cars. He tapped on Lucrecia’s window, and when she allowed him entrance, he merely slid the door open six inches.
“You’re getting off in Montana, correct?” he asked, a friendly smile on his face.
There was something in Lucrecia that wanted to say no. How would they know any better if she was getting off in Montana or not? She might have been better off saying that no, she was going to California to join her husband who was a gold miner.
Instead, she nodded and smiled back at the man.
“Yes, that’s my stop,” she agreed.
“We will be there within a few moments, miss. If you’ll please gather up your things, someone will be here when the train stops to help you disembark and get on your way,” he said.
“Thank you very much,” Lucrecia said, and nodded again.
The man shut her door after that, and continued on his way down the train, looking for everyone else who was meant to get off on the Montana train station. Lucrecia felt a sigh go through her as she watched the world speed by through the window to her right. She had noticed for a while now that things had been moving slower, and that the train would soon be coming to a stop.
She had never once been on a train before, but she hadn’t expected it to be half as painful as it was. After two weeks of being in the same seat, whether she was stretched out or sitting up, it was an uncomfortable time. Certainly the room was plush, her would-be husband hadn’t spared a single penny in expenses, but it wasn’t anything like sleeping in a real bed and having real food every day.
Only a few minutes later and the train lurched, Lucrecia reaching out and grabbing one of the gold-plated bars for support. As the train slid into the station, she looked through the crowd to try and spot this Fausto Redman. She couldn’t recognize him among the sea of faces, all looking for loved ones and family members.
“Miss, are you ready to depart?” a man asked, tapping on the door to her box.
Lucrecia nodded, and stood up. The man entered then, and took all of her things from the upper compartments of the box.
“Are you happy to be back home?” he asked.
Lucrecia could have laughed. This wasn’t her home, and she wasn’t sure if it would ever be her home. She had just wanted to leave New York. Although now, looking out at the train station and the plain town past that, she wasn’t sure if it had been the best idea that she had ever had. She didn’t reply to the man, instead following him out of the car and off the train, where she was to wait with him until her escort arrived to take her home.
Chapter Four
Fausto wasn’t sure what he had been expecting from this Lucrecia woman, but when she stepped off the train with an escort by her side, he was pleasantly surprised. He took her in, nearly leering at her from the way that he looked her up and down. He examined each detail of her, making sure that she was absolutely perfect. He wouldn’t tolerate any less from his soon to be wife.
He stood from his bench, and walked over to the two of them. Lucrecia was dressed in the finest outfit that she had, her head topped with a stylish and trendy, if ostentatious hat. Fausto smiled at the two of them, and dipped his head to her escort. He was someone employed by the train station, no doubt.
“You must be Lucrecia,” he said, offering his hand to her.
Lucrecia looked down at Fausto’s hand, her eyes going wide as though she had never been offered a hand in her life. Warily, she extended her hand, and gasped when Fausto took her fingers and lifted them to his lips.
“It’s an honor to meet
you,” he lied, laying the lies and the charm on as thickly as he could. He would need to do whatever it was that he could to join them as soon as possible.
“Your husband?” the escort asked, looking between Lucrecia and Fausto.
“Soon to be,” Lucrecia replied with a little smile. Fausto had dropped her hand by then, and she held it close to her chest. She’d never once been treated to specially, let alone by a man that she had never met before.
“Are you alright if I leave you alone?” the man asked. Lucrecia nodded, and he took his leave back onto the train.
Trapped in the silence, Lucrecia stared up at Fausto, her eyes wide like a doe’s. He liked the charm of it, and stepped forward to put his hand against her cheek. She wore no makeup, and in a way it made her even more beautiful.
“You’re prettier than I ever could have thought,” he said, although on the inside he felt himself sneer and draw back from the words. “I never could have imagined a girl like you coming so far to meet someone like me.”
“I wouldn’t have thought it possible myself,” Lucrecia replied, her heart pounding. She could hardly believe how absolutely perfect that Fausto was.
His picture certainly didn’t do him the justice that he deserved. Up close and personal with him, it was as though Lucrecia were looking at an entirely new person. Fausto was handsome and gorgeous, and had all of the mannerisms of a true gentleman. He held himself proudly, with his shoulders back and his chin held high.
“It’s an honor to meet you,” Lucrecia said.
Fausto smiled at her, a big sweeping grin, and she could have swooned on the spot. Were it not for Fausto taking her arm and pulling her close against his body, he might have done just that. Her suitcases were taken by another man working at the station, and hauled out to the coach that Fausto had driven to the station.
“I figure that on your first night here, what you would want to do is familiarize yourself before anything else,” he began. “It’s a lot of new territory to take in, and I won’t blame you if you find yourself overwhelmed. It is an easy thing to do when concerning a place like Montana.”
Romance: Luther's Property Page 25
