Page 13 of Rebel Bride
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I awoke with a jolt to find we were still driving. Time had passed, though I couldn’t tell how much. The sky looked different, more muted, signifying that it was later in the afternoon. On one side of the road were pretty ranch-style houses, on the other a large body of sparkling water.
Up ahead a yellow road sign came into view, splashed with an artists’ paint palette in the upper-right corner.
Welcome to Saugatuck, Michigan
Birthplace of NHL Legend, Theo Kershaw
“Saugatuck?”
I turned to find Hatch staring straight ahead, and the movement made me realize that not only had I curled in on myself like a snail but that I was covered with a jacket.
His jacket.
When had he done that? Had we stopped already, and I slept through this small act of kindness?
More likely, he’d covered me up because my wedding dress was too stark a reminder of my crime.
He hadn’t answered, so I repeated to his stone-faced profile, “Saugatuck, Michigan?”
“The very one. The perfect summer vacation spot.”
There was no missing that sarcastic tone. Exactly what I needed, he was saying in his uniquely passive-aggressive manner. A summer vacation.
He had promised me a safe house. I had assumed he meant his condo in Riverbrook. Instead he had driven a couple of hours out of the city.
Maybe I should have asked more questions, but the moment he said he had a place to bring me, I had jumped at the idea. For all my panic at my life being taken over by Dash and his family, at my decisions being no longer my own, in that moment I craved someone else to take control. I’d handed it over without a care because strangely I trusted Hatch to keep me safe. If I went back to Dash’s place, I would never feel safe again.
Away from the city, I could catch my breath, figure out next steps. Maybe even call Dash and explain my actions.
Oh, sweet Summer, you can’t possibly be that stupid, can you?
Shelby Mae, butt out!
I had hurt Dash, that was a certainty, but he had hurt me first. Three nights ago, I’d overheard him talking to his momma.
“She’s not the most polished of girls, darling. I swear she had no idea which was the salad fork.”
Dash sighed. “Mom, who cares which fork she uses for the Waldorf? It’s disgusting anyway. I hate celery and walnuts.”
My heart had cheered his defense of his bride, albeit through the language of salad, until his next words chilled me to the bone.
“You’ll hardly ever see her anyway. She’ll be too busy once I get her pregnant.”
Oddly enough, Dash made fun of my supposed baby fever. It didn’t exist, but whenever I’d showed interest in any baby, such as Lars Nyquist’s daughter Mabel, Dash acted like I was dying to have one. I had said I’d prefer to wait, and he’d rolled his eyes and murmured, “sure, babe.” Now I questioned his strategy—was it just a ruse to pretend disinterest, so I would let my guard down?
“I’ll get Rosa on retainer,” Mrs. Carter said. “We’ll want to make sure any offspring has the right nanny. If we can’t control half the nature, we can control one hundred percent of the nurture.”
Rosa was Dash’s nanny up until he turned fourteen, though why he needed a nanny for that long, I had no idea. These people were already planning the childcare for my unborn children.
I’d brushed it off, resolving to discuss it with Dash later. But we never got the chance. Wedding preparation kicked into high gear, and we were too exhausted from socializing and entertaining his family to have a single moment alone. And what would I say? I’d already capitulated to the Carter Grand Plan when I gave up my job.
I pulled myself back to the present where Hatch was driving us through the postcard-pretty town of Saugatuck, filled with galleries, fudge shops, ice-cream parlors, and high-end boutiques. I half-expected him to wave to Leslie Knope heading into the Pawnee diner for a waffle brunch or salute Lorelai grabbing a coffee in Stars Hollow. But then I realized he wouldn’t want anyone to know about the shameful package he was smuggling in. I caught my hollow-eyed look in the mirror—I was still wearing my veil. I grasped it, tearing it away from my head with such vehemence it stung my scalp.
Hatch remained silent throughout my Tony-worthy performance.
Five minutes after driving through the town, we turned into a graveled driveway and stopped outside a large Craftsman-style house, painted alabaster white and slate blue.
