She gaped at me. “Trina is nutty, but I thought you, Wyatt, had more sense.”
The words were like a stab to the heart. It wasn’t much different from when she told me she couldn’t run off with me ten years ago.
“The deputy mayor fighting for her family farm. It could help get the attention and support you say we – and by we, I mean all the farmers in Salvation – need.” I looked her in the eye. “And be honest, the idea isn’t that crazy.” I wanted her to remember that at one time getting married had been the plan.
“I don’t see how a fake marriage is the solution to anything except in romance novels or rom-coms.”
I flinched at the word fake. I realized that in my mind, I’d already followed through on this idea. We were married and we would stay that way. Nothing fake about it. But if she’d need to think it was fake, I could go along with that. Once I had her in my home, I could remind her how good we were together.
“It’s a genius plan, really.” Trina grinned from behind her computer. “Not only will you fight off Stark and his goons, but think of how it’ll help you when you run for mayor. Who wouldn’t vote for the woman who saved Salvation from being bullied into becoming a prison town? And who knows… If married life suited you, you’d be married to one of the oldest families in town.”
I liked having Trina make the case for me. She had a point. Perhaps framing this in terms of supporting Sinclair’s ambition was the key to convince her of this plan.
“We’d be a power couple. You, a dedicated public servant and me, part of the history of this town. Would it help that I’m a decorated vet? People like to support veterans, don’t they?”
Sinclair frowned at me. “What?”
“I enlisted when I left. Eventually I served in the Special Forces. I received a few medals.” I’d have to figure out what I did with them. It was nice to be recognized, but they weren’t something I displayed or bragged about. But if they helped me convince Sinclair to help my family and be with me, I wasn’t too proud to use my military experience. “Being hitched to me couldn’t hurt your campaign.”
Sinclair bit her lip, the first sign that she was considering this crazy idea. I felt like I was eighteen again, and wanting her so badly, but afraid she’d say no. My breath stalled in my chest as I waited for her answer.
She gave her head a quick shake. “It’s insane.” She turned toward her office.
And there it was again. My heart tearing at her rejection. I felt ridiculous. After all, this was only the second time I’d seen her since my return. I shouldn’t feel so attached to her.
Disappointed, I
made my way to the door to leave the mayor’s office. “I’ll take on Stark single-handedly if I have to.”
“I’ll bet there’s someone in town who’d marry you,” Trina said.
“Will you?” I asked, not seriously, but wondering if Sinclair would give a shit if another woman took the role of my wife.
Sinclair stopped in her doorway and turned, glaring at me.
“Ah…maybe not me.” Trina looked from me to Sinclair.
“It would be nice if someone in the mayor’s office gave a shit about the farmers in this community. I guess some sacrifices are too great. Then again, I’m not surprised. I’m just a dumb farm boy.” Okay, so that was laying the guilt on a bit thick. But I was pissed. Yes, it was a crazy request. Yes, I was being selfish. But dammit, was marrying me to save Salvation really that revolting to her?
I was in my truck heading back through town when I realized I never did talk with the mayor. But I got my answer. He was a diplomat. I’d been gone too long to know what the job situation was in Salvation. Perhaps the townsfolk wanted jobs in a prison more than they wanted to preserve a farming community. Me, I was going to fight.
It occurred to me that my standing in terms of ownership of the farm was precarious. Maybe it was time to hire a lawyer. I didn’t want to waste money, but perhaps that was an investment we needed to protect ourselves. My mom didn’t have a lot of money. Trina was right in that my father was too interested in booze and broads to farm. We were lucky he had good farmhands.
My mother had hired a manager and foreman when my father left, both of whom had done a good job of managing the ranch. I hated to let them go. One was able to find a job on a farm in a neighboring town. The other was on the verge of retirement as it was, and decided to take a small severance from us. He was the one who encouraged my mother to contact me and bring me home. The end result was that the ranch should show an increase in productivity now that I managed the ranch.
I had a little money saved that I could put toward a lawyer as well. The more I thought about it, agreeing to marry on a whim to save the farm, when I wasn’t exactly sure what the legal issue with the deed or title was, wasn’t smart. I pulled over in front of the soft-serve ice cream place and used my phone to look up lawyers. Salvation wasn’t that big, but there were a couple to choose from.
I went with Collier Schmidt because I remembered him from going to high school with his kids. His son was in my grade and I’d dated his daughter, who’d been two years older than me, when she was a senior.
As I drove to his office, I wondered what he’d think if he knew his daughter initiated our sex. She’d been my first, but I hadn’t been her first. Not that she’d been promiscuous. But she’d never been without a boyfriend since I’d known her. At the time, I remembered feeling like the big guy of the sophomore class because I was dating a senior.
That first time having sex, I was scared shitless that I was going to embarrass myself. After that, sex was easy, until Sinclair. I was scared with her too. Scared it was a mistake and I’d ruin our friendship. Scared that I’d hurt her because I was pretty sure it was her first time. Scared Ryder would kick my ass, not that he could, but that I’d have to let him because friends didn’t fuck their friend’s sister. And when it was done, I nearly panicked when I realized I hadn’t used a condom. I didn’t say anything to her because I didn’t want to scare her either. Maybe she was on the pill. Sinclair was the type of girl to be responsible like that. When a couple of weeks passed and she didn’t say anything about a pregnancy, I could be confident I was in the clear. Then my father beat my mom, I beat my father, and I left town.
Jesus, my life was one big risky move after another.
I parked in the parking lot in front of Schmidt’s law office, deciding to walk in instead of call, hoping that would give me a better chance to be seen.
“Why, as I live and breathe. It’s Wyatt Jones.”