Worth The Price (Hart's Fall, Montana) (6 page)

The next morning, Danika sat inside her friend Zoe’s apartment. Friends since elementary school, their relationship had thrived despite Zoe’s move to New York City and her rise to fame as a top runway model. Danika was thrilled at the statuesque woman’s sudden return to Hart’s Fall, but it made it all the more unbearable to burden yet another person with her problems.

So far, the highest price she had to pay for sharing her friend’s apartment was bringing Zoe the occasional bottle of water from the refrigerator on her way to the living room. Nothing like the steep price Brandon demanded.

Her palms dotted with excitement and fear from knowing they were one step closer to actually going through with the agreement. True to his word, Brandon had rung her cell phone a few minutes earlier, informing her that he was on his way. Danika nibbled her bottom lip, until she was afraid there’d be nothing left of the tender flesh to seal her upcoming vows.

“Dani, what about your father? I know why you feel you have to do it. I swore I wouldn’t repeat it to anyone, but isn’t there any other way? Have you thought about what you’ll do if Brandon doesn’t keep his end of the bargain?” Zoe crinkled her brows and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial level. “Then you know, you’ll be married to him for no reason.”

Danika pretended she hadn’t heard the latter part of Zoe’s question. “My father doesn’t have a say in this and Brandon will keep his word. Believe it or not, I have faith in him.”

“I don’t see how you can. You barely know anything about Brandon.
No one
knows anything about him except that part of his face is messed up and he owns that huge ranch out in the middle of nowhere. You’re my best friend. I’m worried about you, that’s all.

Zoe’s comment, well intended as it was, ignited a firestorm inside her. She was tired of Brandon’s appearance being brought up each and every time his name was spoken. “You’re a model. You make a living based on how you look. If something were to happen to your face or body and God forbid you weren’t able to continue strutting down the runway, would you want everyone to shun you? Or if they mention Zoe Nelson in a conversation, it’s followed by a disclaimer of your disfigurement. Why should Brandon have to deal with that every day of his life?”

Zoe had the good grace to look contrite. “You’re right of course.” She bestowed on Danika a photogenic smile that didn’t quite extend to her honey-colored eyes. “I’m sorry I said anything, Dani. If he’s got you ready to chomp on my skinny minny legs, there has to be a good reason. Even better, you’re the one marrying him, not me.” Zoe hugged her middle and shivered. “That’s a nightmare-inducing thought right there.”

Danika grabbed up a throw pillow and playfully slung it at Zoe’s back. “It is not. I’ll have you know just because I don’t have men from all over the world panting after me, you’re looking at a responsible adult. I’m not the ten-year-old Danika who let you talk me into taking a short cut across a patch of those ‘pretty green leaves’.”

Zoe raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you mean the other way around? I was itching so bad Grams had to soak my butt in oatmeal for a week.”

“Well, I think I know what I’m getting myself into,” Danika amended as both women dissolved into a fit of laughter.

Sobering, Zoe was the first to speak. “In a way it’s not so farfetched how Brandon would make such a request. He must be lonely on that sprawling ranch away from the rest of the town. I’ve passed by there before but only because I got lost. I can definitely see why he’d want a wife or a woman in general to be out there with him. Poor guy. What I don’t understand is why you. No offense of course, but think about it, he hates your father’s guts and vice versa. If anything, Brandon should have had a field day when you told him about Mr. P’s financial situation, not propose marriage.”

Danika remained silent. Zoe’s train of thought wasn’t new to her. She had wondered the same thing too. Seeing him yesterday had only left her more confused than ever. Her skin, her entire body had blossomed to life under his intense gaze. She had to wonder if he purposely went out of his way to behave unappealing to women.

“It doesn’t matter what his reason is,” Danika said, thinking of her own role in the arrangement. “If I were to tell everyone my reason, those same people who whisper about Brandon would have a field day with words to describe me.”

Zoe sighed, giving another furtive glance out of the window. “I don’t want to see you get your heart into this only to have it broken. Brandon Sharpe doesn’t exactly strike me as the type of man who
needs
anyone, including a wife.”

That she could agree with. As for not getting her heart involved, that warning was coming a day late. Danika opened her mouth to voice her agreement, stopping short at Zoe’s panicked whisper. “He’s here. It’s not too late to change your mind. My bed is always available if you wanna hide underneath it.” Zoe held up her palm. “I won’t say a word.”

“Oh stop it. I want this, Zoe. I know it doesn’t make sense. I’m not in love with Brandon, but there’s a part of me…” Danika pursed her lips, trying to pinpoint the right words. “Perhaps some place deep down inside my heart, telling me I have to, need to, do this.”

Zoe nodded, although her expression remained blank and uncomprehending.

Danika couldn’t blame Zoe for her reaction when she wasn’t making much sense or didn’t fully understand her own emotions when it came to the surly rancher. Issuing her friend a watery grin, Danika said, “Please just promise you’ll be there for me when we marry.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything. Now, will you go before he tears down my door searching for you?”

Danika dashed out of the apartment, skidding to a halt as firm, roughened fingers clasped her shoulders in a dominant grip. Her heart slammed against her ribcage. With painstaking slowness, she peered upward at the man who, it seemed, she had always been on a path of collision with. His eyes met hers in a smoldering stare and Danika had no choice but to lower her lashes to curtail the wanton shiver that threatened to bring her knees to a quiver.

Brandon’s gaze, enthralling as ever, wasn’t the only thing she noticed about him. She raised her head and blinked then blinked again. Exhilaration coursed through her body. So, she hadn’t dreamed it up, after all. He really had shaved the rough-cut hair that covered much of his face. The contour of his profile appeared leaner…stronger and more angular, shadowed with a sexy hint of dark stubble. Danika approved and so did her body. Every inch of her wanted so badly to learn the texture and planes of the face she hoped to wake up next to for a very long time. Knowing Brandon, however, it was best to pretend she hadn’t noticed the dramatic change.

The pressure of his hands on her shoulders eased, although the muscles in his face became taut as if she had angered him. He probably didn’t like clumsy women, she told herself.

“Are you ready?” She wished she had worn a pantsuit today instead of the coral-toned, hand-knit sundress. She felt naked beneath his clouded stare.

“Yeah. Let’s just hurry up.”

A furrow settled between her eyebrows.
Hurry up?
She hadn’t expected romance from him, but sheesh. Danika drew back, waiting for him to notice her absence.

“What are you doing?” He jerked open the passenger door.

She folded her arms. “I believe that’s my line. What’s wrong with you? I have the feeling I’ve done something to offend you. What exactly that is, I have no idea.” Another thought slithered its way in her mind. “Or did you and my father get into it again?”

“I haven’t spoken to Prescott since last week. Whether or not I did, my issues with your da have nothing to do with you.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

He shook his head and held the door wider, gesturing inside. “It’s nothing to worry yourself about. Get inside the truck.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what’s the matter.”

“Danika…” Her name careened off his lips in a warning.

She stuck out her chin. “I mean it. I’m not budging an inch until you tell me what happened between now and yesterday. You were…different then.”
Less intimidating. Kinda sweet.

He shoved a hand through his hair and gave a stiff nod. “Come here and I’ll tell you what happened.”

Her nipples beaded in response to the gruffness in his voice and the masculine command as she moved beside him.

“Someone took off with five of my Black Anguses last night.”

Danika gasped. Over the years she had heard passing references to cattle rustlers, but until now she had never heard of a single rancher in Hart’s Fall who had to deal with theft of that nature. “Did you report it to the sheriff?”

He crushed a pebble beneath his boot. “I stopped by the department on the way here. Waste of time. Those bulls are history. They’re probably halfway to Oklahoma about to hit the auction block.”

Outrage bristled underneath her skin. Brandon and all of the ranchers in Hart’s Fall worked long hours through the sweltering heat of summer and the blistering cold of the frigid Montana winters to keep their ranches up and running and provide employment for many who wouldn’t have any other option in such a small town. Only the lowest form of scum would resort to thievery.

“I’m sorry for the loss,” she offered. “Hopefully the sheriff will be able to track down the criminal. Do you have any idea who it could be?”

“No.” His tone went flat as his gaze shifted to the black pickup. “We should get going before City Hall gets crowded.”

Danika frowned but did as he instructed. She would allow him his time to brood in silence. After they were married, all bets would be off. Brandon was going to see he didn’t have to undergo all of life’s nuances and problems alone.

Later on, after leaving City Hall with a marriage license in hand, Brandon sat across from Danika in the small café she’d talked him into entering with her for a bite to eat. He watched her take another sip of her cola and envied the plastic straw.

He hadn’t meant to take out his ill temper on her earlier. The discovery of the missing cattle came as a blow to him this morning after going through a routine headcount. Infuriation had quickly bulldozed the shock he’d felt. Not only that, but her question this morning, asked with such unassuming innocence had also left a bitterness churning inside his chest.

Not for Danika, never her. The last time anyone had stolen from him, he’d been thirteen, and barely able look himself in the mirror without the disgust that was evident in the eyes of everyone else. He had returned to the dingy public housing flat he shared with his mother, after another day of searching for anyone willing to hire him on. Once inside, he’d found that every piece of furniture, crumb of food in the kitchen had been swiped cleaned. His first instinct had been to run to the box where he’d kept the money he had saved up from working at the dockyard. Without looking he’d known that the money, too, would be missing, along with his mother who had finally made good on her decade long threats of running off without a brat sniveling at her heels.

He took a sip of his own drink, aware of the curious stares and blatant gawks from the customers inside the western styled café. Danika was also eyeing him with undisguised interest.

“You’ve never been in here, have you?”

He shook his head. There had never been a need nor had he relished the idea of putting himself on display to receive more attention in the simple eatery than the plates of food on the oval shaped tables. “I only come into town for supplies.”

She leaned back in the metal chair, closing her moist lips over the straw again. “Figures.” She downed another sip of the sweetened beverage. Her dimpled cheeks rose upward as she dazzled him with another smile. “It’s a good thing I dragged you in here. Evelyn’s Café might not be five star, but the food is exquisite.” She shifted her head and Brandon followed suit, their eyes skimming the narrow rows of diners, people he assumed she had known since childhood. “Then again I suppose I can see why you’d avoid this place.”

Brandon pushed away his glass. “I didn’t move to Hart’s Fall to make friends.”

“Of course you didn’t. That doesn’t mean you should suffocate and deny any chances of forming friendships.” Her smile curved upward in a mischievous grin. “And a silly scar on the face shouldn’t be enough to prevent that. No matter how big it is.”

Brandon tensed. This was the second time she had so blatantly pointed out his defect. His pride bristled at the honest insult. Then just as quickly, Brandon heard the words, spoken a mere second ago, replay in his overzealous mind. She had referred to what had to be the most defining thing about him as silly. Of all the terms he’d had the misfortune to hear or could think up for himself, silly, was nowhere on the grid.

“Is it just a silly scar?”

“It is. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings by bringing it up again. The last time I almost choked on having my foot so far down my mouth when you saw me outside the feedlot store. I can tell it bothers you‌—‌the looks. That’s why I had to say something. Silly was the perfect word. Everything about it is. That scar doesn’t change who you are on the inside. It’s silly that you wear that hat all the time when you go into town it’s a wonder you haven’t tripped and added a second gash to match the first. Silly also, because of grown people in Hart’s Fall who don’t know how to keep their heads straight ahead.” She ended her speech on a righteous huff then let out a lengthy sigh. Brandon grappled for something to say. Something clever or of equal importance. His sense of speech was waylaid, crushed in a bevy of emotions infused by none other than the slight girl seated before him.