Page 41 of Buckled in Barbwire

Her sharp blue eyes return to mine. “Were you talking to someone?”

My arms wrap protectively across my middle to ward off the evening chill. “Just leaving a message for Bianca.”

“Still can’t reach her?”

I shake my head. “She must be really busy.”

Other alternatives are too traumatic to consider just yet. It hasn’t been that long since I’ve heard from her. But I’m nearing the point of asking Brody if he’s spoken with her in the last two weeks. My stomach cramps into a painful knot. The fact that Dennis has also gone off the grid only adds to my concern.

“Well, don’t worry about that now. Come in.” Mom practically yanks me over the threshold. “We have a guest for dinner.”

That’s not unexpected but slightly disappointing. My parents are connected to everyone in town thanks to the success of their general store. They frequently have visitors stop over just to chat. She tugs on my elbow when I don’t move fast enough for her liking. My sandals slip on the floor before I skid to a stop in the entryway.

The dining room isn’t visible from where I stand but two recognizable voices carry down the hallway. My heart lurches as I blindly stumble forward. When Dad and the man sitting across from him come into view, I can barely breathe.

“No.” My flight instincts kick in, but I only manage to retreat two steps before stumbling into Mom. “This isn’t real.”

“What’s wrong, dear? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

It feels that way too. All of the color has undoubtedly leached from my face if the shocking numb is any indication. The scene in front of me plays like a horror film I’mforced to watch. I can’t move or look away. My unblinking stare is glued to where my father recalls the glory from his last fishing trip. His audience of one appears captivated by the story. Even from here, the glint of his scheming is noticeable. This very well might be a nightmare. The only saving grace—albeit tiny—is that they haven’t noticed me, too immersed in their conversation.

I duck behind the wall to hide in the shadows. “Why is Brody Benson in your house?” The question quakes off my lips, little more than a whisper.

Mom’s forehead creases as she studies my expression. “To talk to your father.”

“About what he caught at the lake last month?”

She appears bewildered, her mouth silently opening and closing a few times. “I figured you had at least some idea but maybe not.”

“Care to clue me in?”

She clasps my hands in hers. Excitement seeps from her pores as she leans close. “He came to get your dad’s permission before asking you to marry him. Such a fine gentleman. Your father gladly gave his stamp of approval. Isn’t that wonderful?”

The rug yanks out from under me and the room begins to spin. Forget the horror flick. I have the lead role in an old Western where the daughter gets hitched to the first eligible cowboy who comes knocking.

“This can’t be happening,” I murmur.

“Are you nervous? It does seem a bit sudden,” Mom admits. “But he’s very eager.”

“And diabolical.”

She laughs. “He must’ve forgotten to include you in hisplans. Don’t be too hard on him. Love can be wild and reckless, especially early on. You two have moved rather quickly.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

The man has gone from a practical stranger to my intended jailer within a month. I peek around the corner. Dad and Brody are still engrossed in their male bonding. Nausea bubbles in my gut and I choke on bile.

My single status is in grave danger, along with my sense of self. This is punishment for keeping my mouth shut. I should’ve told them about his attempt at blackmailing me. Now he’s here, playing nice with my parents.

“I have to stop this,” I croak.

Mom’s grip on me tightens, drawing my focus back to her. It’s only then I notice the stars in her eyes. “Aren’t you happy?”

A hot sting blurs my vision and I blink at the threat of tears. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

She gasps. “You’re pregnant.”

“Mother!”

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