"It did, but I came up with a solution."
I half-heartedly listened, uninterested in the problems my mother had made for herself. I made a left turn through the arch of my ranch. "Okay."
"It will beyourwedding," my mother said confidently.
I hit the brakes, sliding in the snow and nearly making a horrifying mistake by stopping the truck and trailer too fast. I mitigated the danger, turning into the slide, and doing my best to ease it more gently to a stop. Breathing fast, I threw the car into park and sat there, speechless. Thethunk, thunk, thunkof the windshield wipers filled the quiet cab.
"Arabella?"
"What wedding?" I asked. But my heart was already sinking straight to my toes. My mother never made flippant remarks—what she said, she meant.
"Yourwedding. In January. I know it's last minute, but you are so alone out there, and I'm tired of waiting. This is a perfect opportunity!"
"Mom, I don't even have a—"
"It will be beautiful," Sylvia went on, indifferent to my horror. "All we need is a groom."
I choked, strangling on the words as I reminded her, "I don't have a groom."
"Which is precisely why you won't mind me finding you a nice husband to tag along out there in the middle of nowhere.It isn't as though your father and I are romantic. Romance isn't necessary for a great partnership. I have several candidates who are happy to—"
"Are you serious?" I snapped suddenly. Sylvia went quiet. After a beat, I added, "Mom. Please tell me you aren't serious. I can't justfinda rando to marry in two months."
"I did just say I will be happy to find a suitable partner," Sylvia replied smoothly.
The blood drained from my frozen face, and I stared out of my windshield, barely registering the rapidly accumulating snow over my sprawling ranch. "That's certifiable."
"Well, I'm sorry you see it that way," Sylvia replied calmly. "This is an incredible opportunity to acquire a partner for the ranch, for your profession, and for your life. However, if you would rather remain alone, lose the ranch, and be forced to euthanize all those animals, then I suppose that is your choice."
I stared at the headlight beams on the snowy road before me, my eyes glazed. There it was, the threat my mother continually hung over my head like an unsteady guillotine. She owned my rescue ranch, and the payments were more than I could ever make. She'd tricked me when she'd bought it "for" me three years ago. I hadn't realized that she would tack on an impossible interest rate to the mortgage and that she would be my unscrupulous lender.
If I went against her wishes, she would force me to pay the full monthly amount, which I could never dream of paying, and when I failed, she would take my home from me. She would take the only refuge of the animals who relied on me. What kind of monster threatened the lives of animals to force her own daughter to marry a stranger?
Sylvia Rook, that was who.
My gut reaction washell no, of course. But it wasn't actually a choice. She knew that. There was no option but to do what shesaid and do my best to suffer the consequences. Dully, I asked, "Who?"
"Come a little before Thanksgiving and we can go over our options," Sylvia replied smugly. "January eighteenth is the wedding date."
"Alright," I whispered through a knot of tears.
When she hung up, I stared ahead vacantly, my mind just as numb as my toes and fingers were. The cab was growing chilly because my heat didn't work if the car wasn't moving. And that was an apt metaphor for my life, really.
I had been running, running, running since I'd turned seventeen and left my parents' stifling home. I'd been chasing happiness, only to make mistake after mistake that landed me in more trouble than I'd begun. But if I stopped, if I felt sorry for myself or tried to take time off school, and then work, and then running this ranch, then I grew cold. So, so cold that my mind froze, and my heart iced over like it could never work properly again.
Sniffing and wiping moisture from my eyes, I put the car into drive again and trundled forward. No time for weakness. No time for pity. I had a job to do, and no matter what my mother said, I'd do it alone. Just like I always had.
Just like I always would.
Chapter two
Arabella
Agigantic turkey mascot nearly assaulted me, jumping out from behind a red donation bucket and waving its trussed felt arms at me. "Donation?"
I bit down a shriek, skittering out of its way. I'd been walking down Main Street in Eugene, Oregon, my eyes glued to my GPS app and my thoughts all over the place. The last thing I needed was a donation-hawking turkey scaring the shit out of me and staining my mother-approved, business casual slacks. "Jesus Christ," I breathed, putting a hand to my hammering chest and backing away from the turkey.
"It's for a good cause!" the woman's voice said from within the turkey. "Women's shelter."
