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Chapter Two
Ivy
By the timeI make it to the cabin I’m on the edge of a nervous breakdown.
My hands are shaking so badly I have to grip the steering wheel until my knuckles are white. There’s a pounding in my chest that’s making breathing difficult. The greenery just beyond me is growing fuzzy, whooshing in and out of focus.
Tipping my head back so it hits the headrest, I try to focus on my breathing exercises. I can feel sweat bead on my brow. My hands are clammy too.
Damn it. My focus is off. Opening the car door with fumbling hands, I sigh at the cool air that touches my skin. It’s a quick relief but just what I need to bring me back to the present. Closing my eyes, I picture a purple outline of a square. As I take a deep breath in, counting to five, I imagine one side of the square turning blue. As I slowly exhale, again counting to five, another line of the square turns blue.
I do this over and over until my heart rate has slowed to normal and I feel in control of my breathing. Slipping from the steering wheel, my hands fall and get lost in the fluffy tulle cloud that’s covering my lap. My eyes shoot open when the harsh fabric rubs against my skin.
The rough texture of the tulle dress spikes my anxiety again. I’m thinking about starting my breathing exercises over when my gaze lands on the cabin in front of me. The sight is both a relief and a startling reminder of why I had to come here.
I’m not even sure you can call this structure a cabin because even though it’s made from wood, the design is modern and sleek. And big. The cabin is huge with high windows and a wraparound porch. Cute light fixtures too.
Definitely not what I was expecting when I was told my soon-to-be-husband lived in a secluded cabin. I didn’t think I would be able to tolerate the sight, let alone the thought, of living in an off-the-grid cabin, but this, this I could easily see myself in.
Even if I didn’t like the house, I’d have to suck it up, wouldn’t I? There was no way I was going back to the city now. Not when—
No, I can’t think of that. I’ll make myself sick again. I need to focus on one thing at a time. And that thing right now is meeting my husband.
Over the last month, since I was told I would be wed to the eldest Blackwood brother, my stepmother has blabbed on about surface-level things. How handsome he was, how wealthy, his family’s connections and properties. I cared about none of it.
At first, I didn’t care because once again, someone else was making decisions for me without considering my feelings. I was only twenty-one; I had all the time in the world to get married. Why the heck were they trying to rush it?
And an arranged marriage? Really? What century did they think we were living in? People didn’t have to get married to merge companies and grow wealth. I’d told my stepmother this and instantly regretted it. She didn’t care. All she saw when she looked at me were dollar signs. Just another Heartford she could use and bleed dry.
That thought has an image of my father flashing in my mind’s eye, causing an ache of sadness to spread through my chest. I miss him. I wish he was here to help. Without him, all I have now is a slim hope my soon-to-be husband is a decent person and will help me.
I don’t care about the money the marriage will bring my family—I wouldn’t even call them that. I live with three strangers who would rather see me trapped in a loveless marriage than miss out on buying anything and everything they want. For my stepmother and two stepsisters I am nothing but a payday. Only valued when I provided them with something coveted.
I have always fantasized about getting married. I want a marriage like my parents had. One full of love and adventure. I remember our house being full of laughter and warmth. Such sweet memories to recall.
After my mother died, I think my father gave up on love. He hadn’t remarried quickly, but I remember Rina being around a lot. She’d been all kindness and smiles back in those days, playing the long game to win my father over.
I’m sure he saw through her but married her for the sake of having a mother figure in the house for me. I wish he hadn’t bothered. As soon as the “I dos” were said, Rina changed overnight. She became a she-beast. Taking everyone and everything down in her wake.
I had been her favorite target.
But not anymore. If I wanted to live to see my twenty-second birthday—hell, if I wanted to live to see my wedding in three weeks—I needed the help of my husband. The only piece of information I remember from Rina’s long list of bridegroom attributes was that he had a military background. I needed those kinds of resources now.
Yesterday I had pondered how I could call off the wedding. Today, I would do anything to tie myself to the eldest Blackwood if it meant surviving the danger that was slowly encroaching upon me.
“Oh God.” My stomach churns, and a wave of heat takes over my body.
I stumble from the car, my nails scraping along the metal. Leaning heavily to the side, I drape my body over the hood and breathe. Just breathe.
My body temperature returns to normal and my stomach doesn’t feel quite as queasy.
Okay. I’m okay. I’ve done a lot of things out of my comfort zone today and this physical reaction is perfectly normal. All my feelings are coming to the surface now. Pushing up on shaky arms from my prone position on the hood, I take another deep breath and let my eyes drift over the area before me.
Wow. It really is beautiful up in the mountains. I’d been so focused on getting here, trying to figure out if I was being followed—my stomach decides to start churning again at this thought—that I hadn’t really noticed my surroundings.
Everything is so…green. And colorful. For a born and bred city girl like me all this nature is a welcome but mystifying change. I want to spend hours out here, touching trees, smelling flowers and losing myself in the sunlight—but I can’t.
Not yet at least. I still have a bear of a man to confront and a future to rewrite.
