Griffen let out a breath as if he’d been punched in the gut and sank back in his chair. I felt like he looked. My lungs were too tight. I couldn’t get any air.
Marry Griffen? What the hell?
Marry Griffen?
Why? What purpose could it serve? I struggled to find the logic. Prentice was cruel, but he never did anything without a reason. Neither did my Uncle Edgar.
Edgar had called that morning and ordered me to attend the service and reading in his place, claiming a headache. Uncle Edgar didn’t get headaches, even after late nights with too much whiskey, but I did as I was told. Now it all made sense.
There had been no headache, and Uncle Edgar was as much the architect of this disaster as Prentice.
Why?
He wanted me to marry Griffen. It was a brutal irony. Ten-year-old Hope had dreamed of growing up to marry Griffen Sawyer. Instead, he’d been driven from Sawyers Bend, hating all of us.
Me most of all.
With good reason. If his attitude in the last two days was any indication, he still hated me. I didn’t blame him. I deserved it.
I was the reason he’d lost the fiancée he’d loved. Now, he’d be forced to marry me in her place.
I couldn’t do it.
I didn’t have a choice.
How could Prentice ask this of him?
Stupid question. Prentice wouldn’t have cared how Griffen felt. Prentice Sawyer cared about nothing but himself.
Beside me, Griffen croaked out a single word, the one I couldn’t stop thinking.
“Why?”
Harvey shook his head, looking between the two of us. “I don’t know the why. The only thing I know is the how. I’m sorry. I tried to talk him out of it.”
“What if I’d been married? Seeing someone?” Griffen asked.
“He knew you weren’t.”
“What happens if one of us dies before the five years is up?” Griffen pressed.
Harvey raised an eyebrow. “One Sawyer in jail for murder is enough for now, don’t you think?”
Griffen scowled at Harvey, then at me. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It would solve a few problems,” I commented dryly.
“This isn’t funny,” Griffen said, still scowling at me.
“No, it’s not,” I agreed.
“To answer your question,” Harvey said, “It depends. If either of you dies, everything goes to Bryce, unless there’s a child. If there’s a child, he or she inherits with the surviving parent as guardian. Unless you’re both dead, then Royal would be the guardian.”
“And if something happens to the child?” I asked, my stomach pitching at the idea of my future offspring at the mercy of Bryce’s greed.
“If something were to happen to the child, Royal would inherit.”
“And we can’t contest it?” I had to ask, even though I knew the answer.
“You can,” Harvey said, “but I don’t recommend it. The will is legal. If anyone contests the will, Griffen’s trusteeship is revoked, the trusts are dissolved, and all funds go to Bryce. And that’s not your biggest problem.”
All at once the picture came into focus, and I knew what Harvey meant. “If we contest the will, Griffen can’t take over Sawyer Enterprises. He can’t access the bank accounts, can’t sign payroll checks.”
Griffen finished, “It’s the same as just walking away. By the time everything is sorted out in court, the town would be dead.”
“In all likelihood, Bryce would win anyway,” Harvey added.
“And you have no idea why?” I pressed.
Harvey gave me a remorseful look. “Prentice didn’t share his motives with me, Hope. You know who you can ask, but I doubt you’ll get an answer.”
Harvey Benson was Uncle Edgar’s lawyer, too. He knew who he was dealing with. Harvey was a tool to Prentice and Edgar, just like the rest of us.
I looked down at my hands in my lap, my nails short and unpolished. Invisible bars pressed on me, squeezing the air from my lungs. I was in a cage. I’d been in a cage for so long I’d gotten used to it, trapped by loyalty and history and obligation.
My uncle had saved me. I owed him everything. He never let me forget it.
This was my life. Stuck in the cage of this town, working for my uncle, doing what I was told. I’d given up on any dreams to the contrary not long after Griffen had been exiled. I’d grown so used to it I went months at a time without remembering that once I’d been a different woman. A different girl.
But this—trapping Griffen in the cage with me—this was wrong. He’d gotten out. He had a life, friends, a career he loved. I’d followed him over the years, unable to keep from picking at the wound. Unable to forgive myself for what I’d done.
“This isn’t fair,” I whispered.
Harvey gave me a sad smile. “You do this job long enough, sweetheart, you realize nothing is fair. Do you want to hear the terms?”
Chapter Five
Hope
Lay it on us,” Griffen said, his voice grim.