AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter One
Runaway bride? The two words kept repeating in Beth's mind as she paced her spacious bedroom floor, moving back and forth from the balcony doors to the private bathroom. It was still an option.
She clenched her hands until her fingers ached. The butterflies in her stomach changed to dragons at the mere thought of ditching Simon at the altar. A hand went to her abdomen. She had already taken enough antacid to drown a growing ulcer.
Jaw set, she glared at the closed door and silently shouted at the current occupant to come out. Turning, she caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror and froze. With blue eyes that seemed larger than usual, a thick, dark mane as wild as some of the horses she trained, and a rosy flush to her cheeks, she reluctantly admitted she didn't look half bad. The wedding gown wasn't as ridiculous on her as she had imagined.
The dress was far too expensive and too girly for her taste. Simon had ordered it from an exclusive shop in Beverly Hills without even asking for her input. The marriage-of-convenience was his idea as well. According to his father's totally unfair Last Will, everything went to his older brother—their beloved horses, the ranch, and the entire horse breeding operation—unless Simon married her. When he had suggested they cave to his deceased father's wishes, she shot him down cold.
Three times.
She only gave in after Simon told her his brother was talking about selling the ranch. Now, second thoughts pummeled her from every direction. Most girls got to marry for love. Why couldn't she? Nothing about the situation seemed right. She either married a man she didn't love or she risked losing her home, her horses, and the people that had become her unofficial family.
She repeatedly thumped a fist against her upper thigh as she continued to pace outside the bathroom door. She never should have agreed to trick Jared out of his inheritance. Even though he hated the ranch, it belonged to him. Big Jim had wanted him to have it. Taking it through deception didn't seem like a good idea, no matter how Simon spun it.
Maybe if she talked to Jared, she could convince him not to sell the ranch until she could come up with the money for a down payment. She got ten percent of every horse she bred and sold, not to mention another ten for any new business she brought in. Simon wasn't willing to part with a dime of his cash inheritance, so she would have to buy the place on her own.
She lifted a fist to bang on the bathroom door, but Trish threw it open before she could knock. Shoulders shaking, the sobbing girl blew her nose in a pile of tissues. Irony hit Beth hard. She felt like the one that should be crying. A girl's wedding day was supposed to be a happy occasion, but she wanted to run screaming for the nearest exit. Seeing Trish mopping up her wet face at least gave her something to think about besides her own messy circumstances.
“Are you okay?” she asked with growing anxiety.
Trish plopped down on Beth's bed, perched on the edge like a bird ready to take flight. The leafy tree theme of the comforter added to the visual. Trish’s slender body trembled beneath peach-colored lace. She had insisted on picking her own dress after complaining that brides always put their bridesmaids in ugly gowns, so they looked angelic in comparison. Since Beth didn't care about the wedding—it was just a means to a happy end—she told Trish to wear whatever she wanted. The color of her dress didn't matter; it was a small wedding, and she was the only bridesmaid.
Lower lip quivering and eyes overflowing with tears, Trish lifted up a white piece of plastic. Beth had no idea what it was at first, but it seemed to be the focus of the girl's unhappiness. Trish held it between trembling fingers to show Beth the last thing she thought she'd see on her wedding day.
“I'm p-pregnant,” Trish said.
And that started off another storm of tears. Trish's entire body convulsed as she wept uncontrollably. The hysterical girl was going to make herself sick if she didn't calm down.
Beth drew close enough to peek at the plastic stick. Oh, yes. It had a tiny pink plus sign instead of a blue negative one. Trish was indeed pregnant. Questions popped into Beth's head; she dismissed half of them because they weren't any of her business. She was curious, however, as to why her friend would take a pregnancy test on her wedding day. Couldn't it have waited a few hours?
And why had Trish chosen to take the test at the ranch instead of in the privacy of her own home?
Beth checked the clock on the bedside table again. The wedding loomed closer like a runaway freight train intent on crushing everything in its path. Was Simon still getting dressed in his bedroom three doors down or was he already waiting at the end of the make-shift aisle below them?
Another round of doubts tormented her. Perhaps her pregnant bridesmaid was a sign; she shouldn't be marrying Simon. They were too young to risk everything on a fake relationship. It would have been different if she loved him, but...
Beth sat next to Trish on the bed. She made an awkward move to put an arm around the girl's shoulders, but she stopped at the last second. Although she was great at comforting horses, she had no clue how to do it with people. “Are you worried about telling the baby’s father?” she asked.
Trish sobbed between words. “I am not telling him. I can’t.”
“Why not? Are you afraid he won't want the baby?”
Trish shot off the bed and rushed to the balcony doors. After thrusting them open with both hands, her back arched like a bow as she sucked in oxygen. “I can't,” she cried. “I can't tell him. Maybe I should go somewhere far, far away and start over, just me and the baby.”
Beth's strong sense of justice came into play. She shoved her own emotions down over what she was about to do and focused on the innocent child. Every kid deserved to know their parents. Both of them. Unfortunately, her mother hadn't believed that.
“You can't run away from this.” Beth twirled strands of dark hair around one finger, a nervous habit from grade school. “The father has a right to know the truth, and your baby has the right to know their father.”
Trish shrugged.
Beth sighed in frustration before continuing on with her short, hopefully persuasive speech. “This is exactly what my mother did to me. You know that. She kept me a secret from my father for the first ten years of my life. I spent that time thinking he didn't want me, and all because my mother didn't want him in our lives. She made the decision for me before I was born.”
Trish grunted.
Beth crossed the room with a purpose. She grabbed Trish's arms and forced the girl to look at her. “Is that what you want for your child? Do you want them to grow up feeling unloved and unwanted by their own father?”
Trish's slender shoulders sagged. “What if he doesn't want to be a father?”
