by Regina Duke
Maybe the trust was on his mother’s side of the family. It must be. After all, she was the one who wanted information about Megan’s dress size and shoe size so she could get the ball rolling with regard to the wedding on the ranch.
What was his mother’s maiden name? Didn’t Kevin mentioned it to her during her interview? She squeezed her eyes shut and demanded the interview scene to play in her mind. She used to do that during tests at school, replaying scenes of herself studying a certain topic, and with practice she’d gotten quite good at it. And her old skills did not fail her now. There it was. His mother’s name was Fineman. And he had doodled “Krystal” at the top of his list.
She opened her eyes and typed the name into the Google search box. The screen filled with links related to Krystal Fineman Wake. She scrolled to the bottom of the screen. There were over ten pages of links related to Kevin’s mother. Dozens of articles had been written about her charitable giving. One of the articles praised her for maintaining her involvement in Colorado ranching while maintaining a home in New York City. A rescue organization for horses devoted an entire page to her donation history. She had also funded special education groups, private schools, and programs to benefit underprivileged children. One such program involved horseback riding as therapy for handicapped kids.
Curious, Megan clicked on the link and found photos of different children perched on the backs of large horses. The kids facial expressions ranged from serene to gleeful. A rugged looking man dressed for working on a ranch was shown leading several of the horses. Megan squinted to read the caption, then remembered that she could enlarge the print with a movement of her fingers. She did so.
The caption read “Zachary King, foreman of the Finemans’ Rocking Eagle Ranch, assists a young rider.”
“That must be it,” said Megan. “Okay, his mother’s family owns a ranch and they let kids ride their horses. And she gives lots of money to charity. So he should be able to pay my medical bills.” Reassured, she turned the phone off and began packing for her trip to Colorado.
It didn’t take as long as she thought it would, because everything she owned, she had purchased the day before. She marveled at how little she had actually acquired. But then, a woman can only do so much in a three hour period at the mall. She hoped she had enough to get her through the next five days. Surely there would be a washer and dryer at the ranch. She sighed wearily.
The thought occurred to her that she could ask Kevin for a bigger clothing allowance, but she cringed at the idea. She didn’t want this arrangement to turn her into a scheming, money-centered shopping queen. She’d spent her entire life learning how to get by on what was available.
Then she remembered that she had a thousand in cash in her purse. If she needed more clothes, perhaps she could borrow a car and find the nearest thrift store. Her money would go a long way there.
Smiling to herself and feeling much more confident about Kevin’s access to funds, she got ready for bed. She knew he was keeping something from her, possibly several somethings, but he had also signed the prenup, and one thing was certain. He needed to get married before his twenty-fifth birthday or he would lose everything.
Well, he hadn’t put it exactly like that, but Megan had the distinct impression that he was at least as desperate as she was. One way or another she would get those medical bills off her back. Her parents would be appalled at the size of those bills.
“Mom!” Megan hadn’t called her mother yet! She dug through her purse and found the string of numbers for the Guatemalan home where her parents were staying the last time she’d heard from her mother. She squeezed her eyes shut. “What time is it there?” She glanced at the time display on her phone. “Midnight! Oh, no. I can’t call now. It’s one a.m. there. I’ll wake the whole house.” She sighed. “I’ll call tomorrow, mom. I promise.”
She wondered as she fluffed her pillow how long they would stay married. Clearly, they would each be expecting to separate at some point and get on with their own lives. She wanted to find a good man for herself, one that never yelled the way her father did. She wanted a man who was strong but gentle, the way Kevin was in the Market, helping her navigate the crowds. She wanted a man with a sense of humor, someone to laugh with. Just like she’d been laughing with Kevin when he threatened her blouse with his onion ring.
As sleep dragged her into dreamland, she realized with a tickle of surprise that she wanted a man just like Kevin.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Monday, June 25
KEVIN WOKE UP at the first ugly beep of the hotel alarm clock. It was the second worst way to wake up. The first worst was by the ringing of a phone, so he hadn’t requested a wake-up call. His backup was his phone, and by the time he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his phone began singing to him. He turned it off on his way to the shower.
He’d arranged for early morning coffee and breakfast before he went to bed. He wanted to enjoy as much of the hotel suite as he could, considering the amount of cash he’d handed over at registration.
But then, by Megan’s measuring stick, he was just playing at money worries. He had to admit, she had a point. It never occurred to him that a bankruptcy was a life ruining decision. In the world of business, people did what they had to do and didn’t attach any shame or failure to a Chapter 11. At least, people on his father’s level gave that impression. And he was embarrassed to admit that he had never given it much thought.
Megan had, though. The burden of her debt was not yet enough to send her to a bankruptcy lawyer. She didn’t even want to consider the possibility. He was amazed that she had worked two jobs to get through school. He had to admire her character. And to be honest, he was reassured by the fact that she was so scrupulous about money.
And yet, such a focus on finances could mean that he’d been right from the first. She could still be planning to work some kind of blackmail on him.
As he soaped and rinsed and shampooed, he chided himself for his lingering doubts. Was this another gift from his old man? Would he go through life suspecting everyone of wanting to get their hands on his money?
He snorted. It wasn’t his yet. And it wouldn’t be his, until he and Megan were married. What if she changed her mind? He would be powerless to help his sister and kid brother if this thing fell through. And what if his old man found a way to scare her off? Or worse?
Kevin picked out his clothes with a road trip in mind. He’d been up late packing his bags. A part of him wanted to run by his one-room apartment before he left town, but that would give his situation away, and he couldn’t risk that. No, if he needed anything along the way, he’d just shell out more of his hoarded allowance.
He’d asked his mother the night before about extra funding.
“I may need some financial backup on this, mother.”
“You’ve been hoarding everything I sent you for a long time, Kevin. That’s more than enough to attract a bride. Your primary mission is to get her to the ranch. Once you’re here, I can slip you whatever you need. But I will not do a bank transfer that your father can chase down. I refuse to give him any more ammunition against you.”
“How do you know I’ve been saving it?”
“The same way your father will know if I send you any extra.”
The memory of that conversation only strengthened his determination to prove his father wrong. Was there any part of his life that his old man could not spy on?
He slipped into a pair of his favorite faded jeans and an olive tee, but he hesitated about his shoes. He’d gotten very comfortable wearing running shoes all day, every day, but for once in his life he wasn’t trying to fit in as an ordinary guy. He actually needed people to perceive him as the man his mother wanted him to be. With a groan of protest at the necessity, he slipped his feet into a pair of expensive Italian loafers.
He’d forgotten how comfy they were. Okay, so it wasn’t too big a sacrifice.
He glanced at the clock. Seven a.m. Still time too check email.
; He smiled at the memory of their food fight as he left his suite. He’d captured her right there, next to his bedroom door. She had a very pleasant laugh, and seemed to be genuinely having fun. He warmed at the thought of her lips so close to his. It was probably for the best that Jeffrey interrupted them. He shouldn’t get too involved. He couldn’t let himself be pulled into a situation where he actually cared about Megan. That would make ending their charade much more difficult. He needed to look at the whole situation like a business deal. Just like his father would.
He heard a soft knock at the door. Room service was right on time. He tipped the waiter and poured himself a cup of coffee. The aroma soothed him. He picked a maple bar off the platter. The cloying sweetness was the perfect mate to the coffee. He opened his laptop and settled on a chair as it warmed up.
When he went away to college, his sister Karla had only been seven years old and his baby brother Keegan was literally a baby. He saw them sporadically over the years, always when his father was away in Europe or when his mother took them to the ranch for summer vacation. He’d even managed to spend a few Christmases with them, again at the ranch, because Douglas Wake had grown fond of spending his holidays abroad. He called them “working holidays” and claimed that trying to do business with the children underfoot was pointless.
Karla worshipped her brother, and for over a year she’d been hinting that he should let her come visit him in Seattle. More recently she even hinted that she might show up unannounced, because things were becoming more and more difficult at home. Whether their father was around or not, he insisted on controlling her life with heavy-handed threats about special schools for unruly girls. Karla was looking for a way out, and Kevin was worried sick that her behavior was escalating along with her desperation. But bringing her to Seattle, even for a brief visit, would only aggravate his father further. In addition, with a one-room apartment and the hours he worked, he wasn’t comfortable with that idea. She was fourteen now and needed her privacy. For that matter, so did he. When this was all over, he would do more for her. If he had to give up his freedom to ensure his siblings’ future, he should at least allow himself a comfortable home, a place where his troubled sister could find refuge.
Kevin had three different email accounts. He used one for those rare occasions when his father had to communicate with him. The second one was his general email account. And the third was reserved for reaching out to Karla. He checked that account first.
Karla had sent him an attachment. He smiled. Sometimes she would chronicle her life on her phone, then send him an illustrated journal. This email had only one photo attached. He clicked on “download.”
The photo popped up on his screen.
The smile froze on Kevin’s face. His pleasant anticipation faded to grim concern. The photo was captioned, “Self portrait.”
“Oh, Karla,” he groaned, “what are you doing to yourself?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MEGAN POPPED OUT of bed before her alarm sounded. She picked out a pair of pale green capris to go with the touristy tee she’d bought the day before. It made her smile, and she needed all the good humor she could get if she wanted to survive her business arrangement.
She showered and dressed quickly, but took her time with her hair. In the hospital, she’d despaired that it might fall out. It just seemed limp and lifeless no matter what she did. But now, it fluffed beneath the blow dryer and looked thicker with every stroke of the brush. If this kept up, she would once again cherish it as her best feature.
She double-checked her baggage, made sure her phone and charging cord were safely tucked away in her purse, and took a moment to apply her lip gloss. Then she gave herself a once-over in the mirror. Shoulders back, nose elevated an inch or so, just enough to allow her to look down on the world. She laughed out loud. Yes, she was ready to play the part of a rich man’s wife.
She picked up her purse, and the packet of medical bills crackled inside it. Her smile faded. Somehow, she would find a way to get Kevin to make good on this marriage business right away. A lot could happen in a week. What if he changed his mind? What if he dropped dead from a heart attack or had a freak accident? The knot of worry was back, banging its ugly head against her insides.
Or perhaps she was hungry. She could swear she smelled coffee. She decided to take her things to the great room. There must be a coffee pot behind that bar.
She piled her suitcases one atop the other and clutched her overnight bag and her purse in the other hand. The carpet made her progress down the hall completely soundless. When she reached the entryway, she left her bags and moved into the great room.
Kevin was sitting at the table, staring at the screen of his laptop. She wasn’t sure, but he looked upset.
“Good morning,” she said.
Kevin slapped the laptop shut and lifted his head. “Oh. Hi.”
“Mind if I share that coffee? It smells great.”
“Sure. Help yourself.”
Megan’s brow furrowed. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine.”
Megan poured herself a cup of coffee and examined the pastries on the tray. Maple bars, apple fritters, and croissants. At least a dozen. Maybe her concern about a sudden heart attack wasn’t far off the mark. She chose an apple fritter and settled on a chair opposite Kevin.
His thick dark hair was wavy in front. She hadn’t noticed that before. His hazel eyes looked green in this light. His square jaw was firmly set, as if he were sinking his teeth into a problem.
Megan let the silence of the room do her work. Before long, Kevin sighed and offered, “There’s something you should know before we get to the ranch.”
“Go on.”
Kevin’s gaze shifted right, left, up and down, searching for the words he needed. Whatever she needed to know was not easy for him to say.
Megan asked, “Something about your family?”
Kevin nodded.
Okay, thought Megan. Twenty questions it is. “About your father?”
“No, not him.” Kevin made a disgusted noise. “He’s a lost cause.”
“Your mother, then.”
He shook his head. “No, she’s okay. It’s my sister Karla.”
“What about her?”
“She’s—not well.”
“Oh?”
“She’s been having a lot of problems. Teen stuff mostly, but during the last year or so, she’s teetered on the edge of—” He dropped his chin and studied his lap. Then he shifted his gaze to the wall of drapes. “My mother thinks she’s mentally ill.”
Megan replied as neutrally as she could. “Okay. Every family has problems.”
“Just promise me, when you meet her, you won’t run the other way.”
Megan pulled a bite of apple fritter free and held it at the ready. “I promise.” She popped the bite in her mouth.
“No, really. I’m serious.”
Megan chewed and swallowed. “And I promised. I will not run the other way. What time are we leaving?”
Kevin didn’t look very reassured, but he checked his watch. “I want to miss the morning rush hour. How about 8:30?”
“Excellent.” Megan picked up her coffee and balanced what was left of her fritter on the saucer. “I’ll go enjoy my room as long as possible.” She retreated to her room, snagging her purse on the way.
Once inside, she settled her coffee and fritter on the table and pulled her phone out of her purse. She wanted to check routes from Seattle to—
“Darn it! I don’t even know where we’re going in Colorado.”
She frowned at the tiny screen. It occurred to her that they were going to be on the road a very long time. Way too long. She would need to take breaks. Her leg was already aching from two days of unaccustomed activity. She dreaded the thought of sitting for long days, then trying to walk afterward. She typed in a question. “How many hours to drive from Seattle to Denver?” She picked Denver because she didn’t know exactly where they were going.
The answer was 1,333 miles, and a time of 20 hours and 30 minutes if they drove non-stop and encountered no rush hours and no road construction!
Megan slumped in her chair. She could not spend 20 hours in a car. She was a girl! Girls had to pee! Two ten hour days would still be torture. For Megan to be comfortable, it would have to be a three day trip. And that was a long time to be in a car with a man she hardly knew. What was Kevin thinking? Twenty hours, and probably more, was way too long a trip. This was why airplanes were invented, for Pete’s sake. She would have to think of something.
Meanwhile, she had to call her mother.
She retrieved the Guatemalan phone number and dialed. She frowned when the only response was a strange bee-bop, bee-bop, bee-bop sound at the other end. Maybe that was their busy signal? She couldn’t remember. Had she ever gotten a busy signal before?
She dialed again. Same response.
She made a face at the phone. “I know, I know, it’s not your fault. But what the heck is going on?”
It was eight-twenty. She needed to leave. She tried one more time.
Boop, boop. Boop, boop.
That was better. That’s what the tone was the last time she called.
A male voice answered. “Aló?”
“Hello,” said Megan. Then slowly, “Señora Mully, por favor?”
“Ahhh,” said the man. Then he let loose a string of Spanish that was unintelligible to Megan.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m calling from the United States for Mrs. Mully. Glenda Mully.”
“Ahhh.” There was a long pause. Then in very stilted English, “Galinda no live here.” He hung up.
“What!?” Megan stared at her phone. “That’s impossible!” She dialed the number again.
“Aló?” Same voice.
“Hello,” she said slowly. “Glenda Mully?”
Now the man’s voice became irritated. “No, no Galinda here. They change house! Adiós pues.”
“Goodbye,” said Megan softly. She ended the call and sat glumly, staring into space. For the first time since her mother left her bedside at the hospital, she felt completely empty.