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Despite the futility of letting his rejection get to her, she couldn’t stop the familiar spear of aching pain that lanced through her. She didn’t even know the man. He wasn’t actually rejecting her so much as the situation. She knew that. Didn’t even blame him. Hell, he hadn’t known the rules when he’d been standing in that square, so the remote possibility that he’d end up with a wife hadn’t even occurred to him.Of coursehe was going to object.
Yet still…
She slid down the door until she hit the floor and rested her head on her knees.
Indulging in her hurt feelings was pointless. It did nothing but prolong the whole unpleasant experience. Unfortunately, shoving the pain back inside that dark corner of her heart where she kept it was easier said than done.
She wasn’t even completely sure why it hurt so much. She didn’t want to be stuck with some stranger as a husband, either, and it had been just as big of a shock to her. But she was always one to find the best in every situation, and they could have both benefited greatly, even if their marriage had stayed a business arrangement. The man only had thirty days to find a job or he’d have to leave. And whatever else he wanted, it had been obvious how much he wanted to stay. Men outnumbered women ten to one in Desolation. He didn’t have any other options. She would have been a guaranteed ticket.
And still he’d said no. Ridiculous or not, thathurt.
All right. She sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out again, forcing back all the tears, every ounce of hurt, one tiny shard at a time. No more wallowing.
She lifted her head, took another cleansing breath, and wiped impatiently at her face, then pushed off the floor. There were chores to do, her garden and the animals to tend, and a dress commission to work on. She’d let herself hope for a brief moment…but that was done with. Mr. Brady could go tango with a tumbleweed for all she cared.
Athumpand a muffled curse came from the direction of her father’s office…well, her office, really. He didn’t do much in it anymore but drink and fall asleep in front of the fireplace. But he was in there now. And that could only mean one thing.
Her stomach lurched as she hurried down the hall and threw open the door, pausing to take in the chaotic scene. Her father stood behind his desk. Every drawer was open, and he was rummaging through one of them. Open books and papers were scattered about. She didn’t need to ask what he was searching for. But she did anyway, hoping that forcing him to say it to her face would instill a little shame. She didn’t bother hoping it would be enough to deter him, but she wanted him to at least acknowledge what he was doing.
“What are you looking for, Pa?”
He glanced up, his red-rimmed eyes barely skimming over her before turning back to the desk.
“Where’d you put it this time?” he asked, his voice gruff and impatient.
“Put what?”
He slammed the drawer closed and started riffling through another one. “You know what.”
She just folded her arms and raised a brow, waiting for him to come out and ask. He slammed another drawer with a growl and finally looked directly at her.
“Where’s the paperwork on the property? I’ve got a buyer lined up—”
“You’re not selling my proper—”
“It’s not yours yet,” he said.
Panic clawed its way up her throat, and she forced herself to get a grip on it. Being overly emotional would only set him off, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Pa,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, sweet. “You can’t sell off our property. It’s all we have. Where will we go if—”
“Calm yourself,” he said, waving a hand at her like her concerns didn’t matter.
She clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms to keep from screaming at him.
“I’m not selling off everything, just a couple acres from the back.”
Breathe, breathe, breathe…
“Pa, we only have three acres left. If you sell that—”
He glared at her. “I said I won’t sell it all. I’ll keep an acre back. We don’t need more than that. It’s already too much to take care of.”
“No, it’s not,” she snapped, her anxiety too strong to keep under wraps. “I need that land so I can expand planting for my herb sales and still have enough land for the animals to graze.”
“Then maybe you should get rid of the animals. I’m sure my buyer would be glad of them, and it’ll increase our profits on the sale,” he said, his eyes already gleaming. “And you’ve been jabberin’ on about expanding that little garden of yours for years and haven’t done it. The land is just going to waste.”
“It is not going to waste!” she said, her patience at an end. “My plants and the eggs and milk and wool we get from the animals are the only things keeping this roof over our heads. You sell off the land, we won’t even have that anymore. And the only reason I haven’t expanded my planting yet is because I’ve been too busy running everything else around here. You certainly don’t help anymore. If you did, then maybe I could do what I needed—”
