by Peak, Renna
“Oh, Clara,” she whispers tearfully into my ear, “we’ve been so worried about you. You’re so lucky that Adam loves you enough to come after you. To make all of this right.” With a sniffle, she steps back just enough to look into my face. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, honey, but we all want to help you make it right. Look at what he’s willing to do for you. Men like that don’t come along every day.”
“Mom, I…” When she’s looking at me like that, all teary-eyed and hopeful, I don’t know what to say. I find myself scanning the crowd, looking desperately for an escape. Looking for Nick.
Instead, my eyes land on another set of people I don’t want to see—Adam’s parents. And behind them, a couple of our close friends.
I feel like I’m going to be sick. There’s no way this is just a joke. He really means to do this.
As if on cue, Emmalynn Waters comes forward holding a bouquet of colorful blossoms with the stems all wrapped in ribbon.
“These are wildflowers from right here on the property,” she says proudly, shoving it into my free hand. Adam still holds the other one, gripping it as if he never intends to let it go.
And my panic is rising by the second.
Where’s Nick? Or Sophia? Or anyone?
The townsfolk have gathered closer, all smiling at us, pleased to have contributed to the surprise. Someone at the back of the crowd whistles and cheers.
“Adam,” I whisper urgently, finally finding my voice. “We need to talk.”
“We can talk after the ceremony,” he tells me. He raises his voice to the crowd. “Where’s Reverend Brice?”
“No,” I say firmly. “Adam, we need to talk now.”
He laughs. To the crowd, he says, “Please excuse us for a moment. My bride would like a few words in private before we begin.”
Squeezing my hand so tightly my fingers are starting to go numb, he pulls me to the edge of the crowd. I stumble along behind him. When we’re about fifteen feet away from everyone else—which doesn’t feel nearly far enough to me—he turns around to face me. He manages to capture my other hand in his before I can stop him.
“I know what you’re going to say,” he tells me. “That this is too sudden. That this isn’t how you pictured our wedding day. That we still have things we need to work out before we tie the knot. But I’ve been thinking about what you’ve said to me, Clara. About what you say you want.”
“I don’t think you understand at all what I want,” I tell him. “I—”
“You need a break from New York,” he says. “You want some excitement. Some adventure. I’m listening, Clara. And I’m willing to give you that. I can’t quit my job, of course, so we’ll still have to live in New York. But who says we can’t have a vacation home right here? I’ve been looking at property all week, and as of tomorrow when the final papers are signed, I’ll be the owner of ten thousand acres on the north side of town.”
“If that’s what you think I want, then you haven’t been listening,” I insist. “Adam, I know this is hard, but I don’t want—”
“You’re obviously confused, Clara,” he says. “You’ve been confused for a long time. But I know you. I know that in another couple of weeks you’ll come back to your senses. I know you’ll regret walking away from our life in New York. Sometimes you need someone to protect you from yourself, and I’m doing just that.”
My panic is getting worse. He’s not listening to a word I say—if anything, the more I protest, the more convinced he is that he knows best. I try to pull my hands free of his, but he holds on tight.
“Let go,” I tell him.
“I’m never letting you go, Clara,” he says, smiling. “I love you, and we’re meant to be together. You have cold feet—that’s perfectly normal. But don’t ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
“This isn’t cold feet,” I insist more firmly. I manage to yank one hand free, but he’s still holding the other one tight. “And I can’t marry you.”
“Of course you can,” he says, but his smile finally falters a little.
“No, I can’t.”
“Clara…” He gives an exasperated sigh. “This isn’t the time to be stubborn.”
“I’m not being stubborn. I can’t marry you.”
“Can’t or won’t?” he says, starting to lose his composure. He shoots an embarrassed look at the crowd behind us, which can probably hear every word. “You’re not a child anymore, Clara. You can’t just run away because you’re afraid of growing up and beginning your real life.”
Before I can respond, another voice cuts in. “She said she can’t marry you. You’d be wise to listen to her.”
My heart leaps in my chest. Nick has stepped toward us out of the crowd, his eyes fierce with determination.
“This is between me and my bride,” Adam snaps.
“She’s not your bride. She’s not even your fiancée anymore.”
Fury flashes in Adam’s eyes. “This is none of your business, farmer.”
“On the contrary, I believe it is my business,” Nick says, stepping closer.
“Oh yeah?” Adam sneers. “And how exactly is that again?”
Nick doesn’t even blink. “Because she’s engaged to me.”
Nicholas
The entire crowd seems to gasp at once.
A woman comes to Clara’s side—based on how alike they look, I can only presume it’s her mother. “Clara, what is going on?”
“Yes, Clara.” Adam continues to glare at me, though his words seem to be directed to his former fiancée. “What is going on? There’s no way you’re engaged to this…this…hick.”
Another gasp murmurs through the crowd, and a man calls out, “What did you just call him?”
“A hick.” Adam nods. “Nothing more than a hillbilly, backwoods hick—”
He’s interrupted by a fist to his chin, though it doesn’t come from me. Before I even realize what’s happening, the surprise wedding has turned into an all-out brawl with people yelling and fists flying.
I take Clara’s hand and pull her away from the melee.
We duck under one of the picnic tables at the side of the dancing area and watch for a moment. There seems to be quite a lot more going on here than Adam insulting me—the townspeople are even fighting each other. And it isn’t only the men—the waitress whose family’s land we’re on holds an empty wine bottle in her hand and is waving it around, threatening anyone who dares to come near her. I see Bill, the owner of the feed store, punch another man I recognize as another land owner.
I turn to Clara. “We need to get out of here.”
She nods at me but doesn’t move. “We can’t leave without your sister and Pax.”
Damn. She’s right, of course. My eyes scan the crowd, but I don’t see them. Considering how many people are shoving each other in the brawl, it isn’t too surprising.
A moment later, I hear a woman scream over the crowd. “Oh my God! That’s Pax Donovan!”
And sure enough, I see Pax—who has lost his cowboy hat disguise—trying to bolt out of the crowd with Sophia on his arm.
But the woman’s cries bring everything suddenly to a standstill, with the entire crowd silencing at once and turning to face my sister and her husband.
Pax holds up his hands in surrender, slowly backing toward the exit. “We’re just here for the food and the music.”
Everyone seems to realize how ridiculous they’re behaving, and many of the crowd turn to each other, finally distracted.
The woman I believe to be Clara’s mother runs toward us, a few other women at her heels. “Clara? Are you all right?”
She frowns at me before she climbs out from under the table. “Yes, Mom. I’m fine.”
Clara reaches over to me, and I take her hand as she helps to pull me up. I extend my hand to the woman in front of us, but she doesn’t take it. “I’m Nick.”
“My daughter’s fiancé.” She shakes her head at me. “You had no right to g
et in the middle of this. My daughter—”
“Has made her choice, Mom.” Clara frowns at the woman. “I didn’t expect you to understand. That’s why I…” She lets out a small growl of frustration. “I can’t believe you.”
“You can’t believe me?” The woman’s brow wrinkles, and she glances up at me. “I can’t believe any of this. Who are you?”
“As I said, I’m Nick—”
“You know, Clara,” the woman says, interrupting me. “I would have expected behavior like this from one of your sisters—”
“Mom!” One of the women flanking her side cries out.
Clara’s mother shakes her head, dismissing her. “But you.” She clucks her tongue. “You can’t do better than Adam, sweetheart. You can’t take up with some farmer and think he’s going to be able to provide you with the life you’re accustomed to.”
“I believe I can provide for Clara just fine, madam.” I frown. “I fail to see how my occupation is at all relevant in the discussion regarding to whom Clara has given her hand.”
The woman’s mouth falls open slightly, and she gapes at me for a moment before turning back to Clara. “This is a rebound.”
“It isn’t, Mom. Nick is—”
Adam joins the group, rubbing at his chin before he glances over his shoulder. “You sure do know how to keep things interesting, Clara.” He shakes his head before he turns to me. “I’d thank you for keeping her safe for the past month, but considering how you’ve taken advantage of a mentally ill woman—”
“I am not mentally ill!” Clara’s eyes are wide, and she looks between her mother and former fiancé in turn. “Get it through your thick skulls. I am not marrying you, Adam. Not today. Not ever.”
“Clara…” Adam says her name on sigh that sounds quite a lot like pity. “Do I really have to name off all the reasons you’ll never be happy with him?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You don’t have to say a damn word—”
“How are you going to afford all the fancy clothes you like to buy? You really think you’ll be able to take one of your infamous shopping trips down Madison Avenue on this guy’s income?”
I answer for her. “I do quite well. I can certainly—”
“I don’t think you have a clue, buddy.” Adam shakes his head. “We’re not talking about her going down to the local cowboy store to pick up some ugly flannel shirt. This girl spends thousands—and I mean thousands. On shoes.” He cocks his head at me. “Shoes. I won’t even start on how much she spends on actual clothes—”
“Fuck you, Adam.” Clara’s lip is trembling, and I can see she’s fighting back tears. “Did you ever think maybe I did that because… I don’t know. Maybe I was empty inside? Maybe my life was lacking in so many other places that the only thing that made me feel better—even if it was only for a few minutes—was getting something pretty and new?”
Something about the way she says the words makes my heart twist in my chest. I know that feeling. Perhaps I didn’t try to salve my emptiness with things, but I certainly understand what she’s talking about.
“Clara…” Her mother reaches out and touches her arm. “We need to get you some help, sweetheart. If you’ll just come back to New York. Just for a little while. We’ll get you the help you need, and you’ll see.” She tilts her head, giving her daughter a cautious smile. “Whatever it is that’s bothering you, we’ll get you help. Being here isn’t helping.”
“It is helping. Was.” Clara lets out another short growl of frustration. “I was doing just fine until Adam showed up.”
“He’s here because he loves you.” Clara’s mother stares at her. “And think about it. You were trying to fill a hole in your life with shopping—who doesn’t? But now you’re trying to fill it with…” She glances up at me. “This?”
“Nick isn’t a this!” She shakes her head at the two of them. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Adam takes a step toward her. “Clara, you need help—”
“Even if I do, I don’t want it from you.” She looks up at me and gives me a look of exasperation, almost as though she’s asking me to intervene.
And I’m only too happy to do so. “I’m happy to assist your daughter in whatever way I can, Mrs. Weaver.”
The woman narrows her gaze at me but says nothing before turning back to Clara. “Just come with me—”
“No, Mom.” Clara shakes her head again. “I’m staying here. With Nick—”
“He can’t give you what you need,” Adam interrupts. “He can never provide you with—”
“The fuck he can’t!” Clara yells. “He’s a fucking Prince of Montovia!”
Clara
I didn’t think this could get any worse. But when I realize what I’ve just said, in front of all these people, I know things certainly aren’t going to get better.
Everyone is staring at us. My mom and sisters are openly gaping. Adam looks like he just found out he’s gone broke.
I almost can’t bring myself to look at Nick. I’ve just told the entire town his secret—the very last thing he wanted. His life here will never be the same. His dream of being an anonymous rancher has just been shattered. All because of me.
When I finally find the courage to look up at him, his expression is closed, his shoulders stiff. I can guess how he’s feeling—betrayed, angry, and miserable.
I have to do something.
“I…I didn’t mean it,” I blurt. “It was just a bad joke. Nick is only a rancher, but it doesn’t matter who he is or how much he earns. I’m staying here with him.”
My words don’t have quite the effect I hoped. In fact, people seem to be studying him even closer now. My mom is staring at him with a frown. The townsfolk wear expressions ranging from shock to anger to confusion, looking from me to Nick to Pax and Sophia, who are still standing off to the side.
Adam looks downright pissed.
“He’s not a prince,” I tell everyone again. “I was just trying to get you off our backs. I—”
“There’s no need to lie, Clara,” Nick says. “The secret is out, now.” His voice is too calm.
I look up at him. “But…” I don’t have any excuses. Only shame that I’ve ruined everything. And all this after I was so convinced that he would be the one to blame when my new life here inevitably fell apart. “I’m so sorry, Nick.”
“This is ridiculous,” Adam cuts in. “This is obviously just some ploy for attention. Why would a prince be all the way out here in Bumblefuck, Montana?”
“Princess Sophia is here,” someone in the crowd points out. Almost as one, everyone turns to look at Sophia and Pax.
Sophia gives a little wave to the crowd and shrugs. “Can’t princesses enjoy this beautiful countryside, too?”
“He’s definitely Prince Nicholas,” my sister Avery says. She holds up her phone. “It took like five minutes for the picture to load, but this is him.”
My other sister, Faris, leans over and looks at Avery’s phone. “I knew I recognized him from somewhere. I remember him from the royal wedding photos in Celebrity Spark.”
There must have still been some doubt among the citizens of Firebird Falls, because those comments set off a murmur of discussion among the townsfolk. Meanwhile Adam is looking angrier and angrier.
“It doesn’t matter who he is or isn’t,” I say, grabbing Nick’s arm. “Even if he were broke, I’d still choose him. I made my choice. I’m happy here.”
My mom looks like she’s going to faint. “But you’re actually going to marry a prince? You’re going to be a princess?”
Oh, God. I didn’t think any of this through. Thankfully, Nick comes to my rescue.
“This is not a discussion we need to have in this venue,” he says, and he doesn’t bother hiding his accent. “I assure you, everything will be settled. For the moment, though, the only thing that matters is that Clara will not be getting married today. By her own choice. And she will not be marrying this man”—he nods toward Adam�
��“at all. Again, by her own choice. She asks that you respect her wishes.”
I nod, drawing myself up. “I’m sorry for ruining the party. I had no idea—”
“You BITCH!” Adam strides forward, stabbing a finger toward me. “I won’t be humiliated like this. We’re going back to New York tonight, and by tomorrow you’re going to be—”
“She will be doing no such thing,” Nick says, stepping between Adam and me. “I ask that you leave this place. Immediately.”
“Or what?” Adam demands. “You’ll fight me again?” He raises his voice and looks back at the crowd. “He might be a prince, but that didn’t keep him from attacking me before. I guess you can’t teach some people manners.”
Nick keeps his voice low, but there’s a dangerous edge to it. “As I recall, you were the first to throw a punch. And I was well within my rights to protect myself against an intruder on my own property.”
Adam barks a laugh. “Let’s hope you’ve improved since last time. Unless you want your ass kicked again.”
Nick braces himself as Adam takes another step. His hands curl into fists, and I reach out and grab his arm. A brawl isn’t going to make any of this better.
But he’s not the only one who looks ready to fight. Pax has come to stand beside us, a grim look on his face, and I notice he’s rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal the tight muscles in his arms. Beyond him, a number of the locals look just as eager to throw a few more punches, and I hope their anger is directed toward Adam, not Nick, but it’s hard to tell at this point.
Adam doesn’t seem to notice or care about anyone else. Not even me. His eyes are locked on Nick, and he looks ready to murder someone.
Before he can move, though, his father appears as if out of nowhere. Sloan Bennett is a powerful force in the boardroom—and even more powerful in the New York social scene—and he manages to look intimidating even when he’s clearly outside his element. He rests a hand on his son’s arm.
“Adam, I think we should leave,” he says firmly.