Page 3 of The Cowboy Takes A Bride

Thankfully, he passed that trait onto her.

And what she was reading from the tall yet slight woman was not that she had a headache—any moron could ascertain that by Meredith’s actions alone—but something far more heartbreaking. Meredith was what? Six...no, eight years younger than Sabrina and looked nothing like a wealthy twenty-four-year-old single woman in a modern world. Instead she had the presence of a matron, a spinster, to use the antiquated word. Meredith's mother, Rebecca, a woman Sabrina had often looked to for fashion and diplomacy guidance, had dressed tastefully but still showcased her wealth and beauty. Meredith's midnightblue evening gown, cut to accentuate the assets of any woman was worn plain. Almost matronly. Her neckline, the only skin showing other than her arms, was bare. Not one jewel glistened drawing the eye to her. A rarity among the Texas uber-rich where cleavage, big hair, and large gems were the norm and a measuring tool for status. Sabrina herself was sporting ten-carat teardrop earrings and had called them “these old things” more than once tonight.

No, the slump of Meredith's shoulders and the defeated curve to her spine as she sat forward spoke volumes, hinted to a story that was about more than headaches. Sabrina searched for possible reasons to explain the Meredith that sat before her. Was it more than the loss of her mother? “You’re like her, you know. Your mother.”

Meredith’s eyes glistened. “It seems as if she’s been gone forever.”

“I feel the same way about my father. He passed a few years before your mother.”

“I’m sorry,” Meredith whispered.

Sabrina nodded. “Life without him still feels wrong. I suppose I’m still adjusting to my new normal.”

Following a derisive snort, Meredith said, “If this is the new normal, no thanks. I can’t bear to live like this much longer.” But her own words broke her, and the unshed tears released and coursed down her face.

Turning toward Meredith, Sabrina wrapped her arm around her and held her close. She certainly was in need of some kindness and love. “Oh, honey. What could be so awful that can’t be fixed? I can’t imagine your momma would be happy to hear you talk like that.”

Eyes large, Meredith said, “My life is awful. What small number of friends I do have is starting to dwindle. They’re all getting married and having babies, and I’m here being a tool formy father’s business gains. A means for him to gather information.”

“I don’t mean to sound callous, but have you told him no?” Sabrina was certain she knew what the answer would be, but she needed to hear it from Meredith. There were two kinds of people. Those that let life happen to them, and those that made a life. Her instincts told her which one Meredith was, but she needed to be sure.

“Honestly, I’ve stopped. The more I refuse, the tighter he tries to control me. He’s taken away any source of money other than one credit card. I tried to get a job a few years back, right after graduating college, but he called the superintendent of the school district. I’m a teacher—well, I would be if my father allowed me to work. Anyway, he called his poker buddy, and I’ve been essentially blackballed from this district and some of the outliers.” Meredith’s breathing was ragged.

Sabrina rubbed her back. “What does he want from you?”

“I stopped asking that question as well. He used to say it was to keep me safe, but now he either glares at me or ignores me. After momma died, I thought it meant he was scared to lose me, too, but if that’s the case, then his fear has gone so far off the rails, I have no idea the direction in which normal resides.”

“So you have no money or a way out.” This was the telling moment for Sabrina. Now she would know if her services would be needed or not.

Meredith pulled away slightly, her gaze darting around the room before returning her focus on something over Sabrina's shoulder.

Sabrina knew to wait, her only action to hand Meredith a tissue. Answers to questions were revealed if there was an opportunity, and talking or pushing Meredith into the moment was not how it was done.

“I have a plan,” she said a few moments later.

“Plans are marvelous. When they come together.”

“I won’t live like this much longer,” Meredith said with determination, then clutched her head. The force of her words likely had increased the pounding in her head.

Meredith was made of sterner stuff, probably from carving out something of a life while under the authoritarian thumb of her father.

“If I can help in any manner, please let me know.” Sabrina handed Meredith a plain white business card made from textured cardstock. The word HOPE was embossed in silver on the card, the light making it sparkle. Meredith ran her thumb over it. Below, in navy blue lettering were the only other words on the card: Sabrina’s name and phone number.

Meredith flipped it over a few times before looking back at Sabrina. “Hope?”

Sabrina pulled her arm from around the girl’s shoulder so she could face her. “Yes, I give people the prospect of an alternative. Hopefully one that brings them happiness and love.”

Meredith folded the tissue over her fingers. “How so?”

This is where things got tricky for Sabrina. “I’m a matchmaker.” Yes, that much was true. But the rest would be told in due course.

“And you think setting me up on blind dates will solve my problem? I can barely get away from the house to shop at a bookstore. How am I to go on a date? Meet him at something like this? No. I want a different life for sure, but I don’t see how dating is going to make that happen. Truthfully, I don’t see men in my future anytime soon. I want freedom. When I start over—” She clasped a hand over her mouth, the white card still in her hand.

“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything. You plan to start over how? Where can you run where your father won’t find you? You’ll need a new identity.”

Meredith shredded the tissue. “I know,” she whispered.

“Has it come to that?”

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