Chapter One
Ranger
Grieving isn’t a spectator event. At least, it’s not for me. The last of the funeral guests haven’t even left yet and I’m already wheeling myself back to my office. Work is my sanctuary, and I desperately need the respite it offers me today.
People think that running a ranch is all about cowboys doing manual labor. Wrangling bulls and shit. They don’t realize that a ranch is a business. It’s as much strategy and planning as having the physical strength to repair a fence. Any idiot can do that.
In my office, I spot the envelope with the familiar messy scrawl on it. Grandpa didn’t have good motor control in the final years of his life, but he was still cognitively here and present with us.
Through failed crops, economic recessions, and even the loss of his own son, the man never gave up. He kept this ranch going and now, it’s my turn to keep the Scott family legacy alive.
I blink away the tears as I trace my fingertips along his script. I don’t have to pull out the letter to know what it says.
Grandpa was a diehard romantic. A man who believed in forever and soulmates. Now he’s making marriage a condition for inheriting the family ranch. If my seven brothers and I want to keep this place in our name, we have no choice but to accept our coming nuptials.
There’s a knock on the door and when I call out, Ethan and Logan enter the room. Like all of my siblings, these two are my foster brothers. I didn’t care much for them at first. But they’ve had my back more times than I can count.
“You ducked out on us,” Logan announces as he takes a seat across from me. He sets his muddy boots on my desk.
I gesture to the spreadsheet open on my computer screen as if I were busy working. Even cowboys have to do paperwork. At least, you have to if you hope to keep the place operating lawfully. “Had some figures to look at.”
Ethan says nothing as he takes the seat beside Logan. He’s never been particularly chatty but after finding out his wife was cheating on him in front of the whole town, he’s gotten even quieter. Sometimes, it’s downright unnerving.
“Did you need something?” I prompt when neither of them say anything. Ethan’s silence I’m used to, but Logan is usually talkative no matter what.
Logan clears his throat. “We’re not going to have to leave now, are we?”
It’s a question only a foster kid would ask, and my heart breaks for the second time since Grandpa passed away. My brothers and I have seen enough cruelty and pain to last a lifetime. We all came to the Scott ranch at different times, but a brotherhood has formed over the years. The eight of us mind as well be blood at this point.
“The ranch is legally ours as long as we fulfill the terms of the will,” I reassure him.
Ethan narrows his gaze. Trust him to pick up on my careful wording. None of my brothers know about the upcoming marriages yet. The will won’t officially be read until two days from now. But Grandpa and I were close. Maybe that’s why he left me a letter and not the others. “What do you mean the terms of the will?”
I work to keep my voice even and unaffected. I’ve already had three days to process this news and even then, it still tastes sour. “In order to inherit, each of the Scott siblings must marry. Grandpa has signed us up for a mail order bride matchmaking service.”
“You’re shitting me,” Ethan says, rage coloring his tone.
“All you have to do is finish filling out a profile and select a compatible match.” I’ve done the research and the company that Grandpa selected is highly reputable. He even gave them the deposits already. Hell, he did everything but handpick the women for us.
“Wait a second, I get that he wants us to find our soulmates.” Logan emphasizes the word with obvious disgust. “But what if we sacrificed a few of us? We draw straws and those guys have to get married while the rest of us are free.”
I chuckle at his suggestion of sacrificing a few of us. Trust Love ‘Em and Leave ‘Em Logan to look at marriage that way. “I’ve already talked to the lawyer. There will be no exceptions and no loopholes. Anyone who doesn’t marry doesn’t get their share. Their portion of the land will be sold to the highest bidder at auction.”
Ethan lets out a blue streak under his breath. We all know that keeping the ranch whole is the only way to ensure it survives. It was a sneaky move that gives my grandfather the last word.
Logan blows out a breath. “Dammit, the Scott brothers are about to get hitched.”
I reach for the good bourbon I keep in the bottom drawer and pour the three of us a generous amount. “Here’s to the end of the bachelorhood.”
***
A week later, I roll into the bedroom I’ve prepared for my soon-to-be bride. Just the thought makes me uneasy. How desperate is this woman that she’d marry a man sight unseen?
As soon as the will was read, everything was already set-in motion. The only thing I had to do was sign on the dotted line, agreeing to the contract marriage. I received a brief profile to review but no picture. The same as my future wife.
With my good hand, I run my fingertips across my face. The muscle spasms have been worse than usual thanks to the stress of my upcoming wedding. I already know I look like I’m scowling.
I haven’t talked to the heavens since I was a kid in high school who spent just about every day bullied because he looked different. But today, I can’t help turning my face toward the ceiling. “Would you send me someone plain?”
If I’m being honest, I want more than a roommate or a companion. I want a real marriage, a wife that will build a future with me.
Experience has taught me that beautiful women don’t look twice at men like me. But maybe if she were plain, she wouldn’t be turned off by my appearance and obvious disability. Maybe she’d be willing to give me a chance.
“I want a real wife. Kids too if you’ll give ‘em to me,” I admit. I’ve accepted that I’m alone. But so many nights, I finish my work for the ranch, drive home, and wish that there were lights on. A happy wife and playful children waiting to greet me. Maybe this is my chance to finally have that.
***
Tia
“Just look for the man with the dogwood bouquet,” I repeat to myself as I follow the other passengers off the plane. It was my first plane ride and if I have anything to say about it, my final one too. I don’t ever want to encounter turbulence like that again.
Agreeing to become a mail-order bride isn’t something I thought I’d do. The matchmaking company was reliable, and all of my costs were paid by the groom. Now all I have to do is show up and hope he doesn’t reject me.
I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens, and bile threatens to climb my throat. I ran away from home three nights ago on the eve of my eighteenth birthday. It was either that or become the sixth wife of Prophet. Prophet who’s already married my older two sisters. One of them disappeared and the other is a shell of her former self.
It was Sarah, a local librarian, who sheltered me and helped me get out. When I found the matchmaking service, she encouraged me to try it. Her husband promised that men on the outside are different. They don’t believe in punishing their wives and terrorizing their children.
I had to lie on the forms when I sent them in. I said I was twenty-one. But still I’ve waited until I was eighteen. At least then the marriage will be legal, and it’ll be harder for my father to drag me back to “the community”.
It’s a funny word to describe a little strip of land in the mountains of Georgia where we all live in houses that look just alike. We dress alike and go to the same tiny church where Prophet shares the latest revelation he’s been gifted with.
Please don’t let my father come for me. I take a deep breath and remind myself that my future husband doesn’t want to be greeted by a panicked wife. I have to make this marriage work, and that means pasting a happy smile on my face.
Scanning the Asheville airport terminal, I feel the familiar overwhelm crash into me. When you’ve spent your life hidden away in the community, the world outside of it feels big and scary. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many people and they’re all bumping into me and carrying on their way.
For a moment, I’m convinced I made a terrible mistake. I want to go home. I want to be where everything is familiar. Then I remind myself of the way my sister looks now. Pale, gaunt, covered in bruises. I won’t let that be me.
I tried to get her to come with me, but she wouldn’t. I had to leave on my own and now it’s time to figure out how to do this, how to become part of the outside world.
Shoulders squared, I tell myself to take this one moment at a time as I look around, searching for a man with a bouquet. There’s one guy but he’s holding white roses as a woman in an Army uniform throws herself into his arms.
Will it be like that after we’ve been married for a while? Will I get someone who likes to bring me flowers and wants me to throw myself into his arms?
Then I spot him, and it feels like time stands still. There’s a man sitting in a motorized wheelchair with a bouquet of dogwood blooms in his hand. Something deep in my gut tells me this is him, my future husband.
The dating profile never mentioned a wheelchair. It seems a strange detail to leave out about the man.
He lifts his face as if sensing my gaze and his scowl has me taking a half-step back. He looks angry and I’ve spent my life around angry men. Men who would punish a woman or child for the slightest sin. Please don’t be the angry type.
I study his features. His dark hair and nearly black gaze have me thinking of a raven. I can’t help the shiver that runs down my spine as soon as I make the connection. Before she left, Mom always said that ravens are an ill omen, a warning of loss to come.
He smiles at me. At least, I think he tries to. It softens his features a little, but it doesn’t ease the churning in my stomach.
I approach him cautiously, prepared to bolt. Sarah told me I could call her anytime. She even gave me a smartphone. It’s the first electronic device I’ve had in my whole life. If this turns into a bad situation, you can always call her.
“Are you Ranger? I’m Re—Tia,” I quickly correct myself. It’s going to take time to learn to introduce myself as Tia. I left Rebecca, my birth name, behind. It felt too close to my past and I wanted a fresh start. The name Tia means happiness and joy. I figure I could use both of those things in my life now.
“These are for you,” he shoves the flowers at me. “We need to get on the road if we’re going to beat the snowstorm. Do you have bags with you?”
I hold up my black duffel bag. Running away from home in the middle of the night means I don’t have much. If it hadn’t been for Sarah, I wouldn’t have anything at all. “Just this.”
We stand there staring awkwardly at each other for a moment and I don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to hug him or something?
He grunts. “Follow me then.”
Without another word, he pushes a button on his chair and starts down the terminal without waiting. Disappointment lances through me at the cold reception as I think about the soldier and the way her man greeted her so warmly. I’m marrying a man who doesn’t like me.