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Chapter One
Raya had always been jealous of Michaela. She was the one who, at their tiny school of only twenty kids, got all of the attention. Their father loved her best, calling her his beautiful girl and other such things. The only person who had favored Raya had been their mother, but after she passed away when they were six, her opinion stopped mattering to the little, broken family. Their father was horribly ill, and Michaela became the town harlot. She could pick up a few extra pennies that way, while Raya went out and worked the fields for local farmers. She came home exhausted and worn out, wanting nothing more than to take a hot bath, only to discover that Michaela had beaten her to it and used up all of the hot water.
Instead of pitching a fit, Raya made dinner for the three of them, and after that, Michaela would come downstairs and claim that it wasn’t good enough. She would only eat a portion of her plate, and their father would eat even less than that. Raya was the only one left in the household who ate a full meal. After dinner, she would go upstairs, and take a cold bath. It froze her to her very core, but at the very least, it woke her up.
Raya would wake with the roosters the next morning, usually long before dawn, and head out to work. She had fun, though, caring for the animals. Oddly, the cows were her favorite. She loved their big, sad eyes, and the way they would bellow. Raya could run her hands across their short hair, and they would nuzzle against her for more contact with a human who was actually gentle with them. She loved the horses as well, giant creatures that seemed far more dangerous than they actually were. When she was allowed to, she would take the horses and ride them until between her thighs was rubbed raw, and she was panting and red-faced.
The only problem was that they still didn’t have enough money.
Their father had a chronic chest cold, some type of disease from when he had traveled to lands far away. Neither of the girls understood what the doctors said, aside from when they said that it was expensive.
Michaela picked up a job at the local grocer, but even that wasn’t good enough. Her pay was only a quarter a week, whereas their father’s medicine cost upwards of three dollars a week. There was nothing they could have done, until the stranger rolled into town.
Michaela took an instant interest in him. She wanted to get her hands on any handsome man that she could, but the stranger was elusive. No one was sure where he was staying, or what he wanted. Some believed he was a murderer on the run, others believed that he was looking for a wife. Michaela took a sick delight in those sorts of rumors. What she wouldn’t give to be married off to some stranger and be freed from her obligations as both a daughter and a sister.
Raya lived her life as normal when she heard about the stranger. She didn’t care about passersby, in their town, it was more common than not. People blew through on their way to California from New York, or to New York from California. It was a pit stop of sorts, and tourism was the town’s biggest source of income. During the winter months, they were hit hard, and barely had enough to go around. The summer months, though, were a different story. Money was easy to get and freely flowing.
The only time that Raya was bothered by the stranger, was late one August night. She arrived home earlier than Michaela, a rarity. While she could, she ran to the bathroom and took a steaming hot bath. Raya sighed pleasantly as the water relaxed her, washing over each of her muscles and relaxing her to her very core. She leaned her head against the porcelain lip of the tub, sighing and closing her eyes. She could understand why Michaela was always so calm. Leading a life of luxury such as this, it wasn’t hard to imagine how good the rest of her life was.
After her bath, Raya dried off, and dressed herself in her usual—though mildly taboo—outfit of pants and a blouse. She was given strange looks around town, but if she was going to ride a horse the proper way, she wasn’t going to do it in a frilly dress. Before she even got downstairs, Raya could hear her sister’s lilting voice, the strained voice of her father, and a voice of a man she didn’t recognize.
Hair still sopping wet, Raya entered the living room. Her father had been stretched out on the couch until he was comfortable, with Michaela in their mother’s rocking chair. Raya furrowed her eyebrows at the sight, they never sat in their mother’s rocking chair, as a sort of respect for the deceased woman.
A man, the one she hadn’t recognized, was lounging in the cushioned chair. He had wispy shocks of black hair that were swept to one side, and dark bags under his eyes. If it weren’t for the expensive taste to his clothes, and the way they were maintained, Raya might have thought that he was a homeless man. Of course, Michaela never would have taken a homeless man into their house.
Michaela perked up when she saw Raya, a grin spreading across her face. “Raya!” she said, gesturing to her sister. “You remember her, Joel, I told you about her. She’s my younger sister,” Michaela explained. She flipped her long, ringlet-spiraled hair over her shoulder. She’d gotten all of the good genes. Raya could never grow her hair past her shoulders, whereas Michaela’s fell down her back like a waterfall of chocolate curls.
The stranger turned in the chair to better face Raya, who didn’t make a move. She didn’t even offer the slightest of smiles to the man. He did all the work for her, looking Raya up and down and letting a grin spread across his face.
“You sure are cute, Raya. It’s nice to make your acquaintance,” he said.
“Likewise,” Raya said, though her tone was short.
The stranger, Joel, laughed a little bit. “Michaela, you didn’t tell me that your sister had an attitude.” He turned his smile back to Michaela, who had plastered a sickly sweet expression on her face.
“Usually she doesn’t,” Michaela said. “I think it’s just because you’re a new person in the house. Isn’t that right, Raya?” Michaela was giving her a pointed look, as though letting her know that if she didn’t act up right away, she was going to be in some serious trouble.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Raya agreed, though she felt distant as she said the words. “I’m not used to it, that’s all.”
“That’s alright,” Joel said. He had a sort of twang to his words, one that Raya wasn’t used to. He didn’t look like a Southern boy, though. Perhaps a Northern boy. “I think girls with a little attitude are pretty.”
Raya blushed, and Michaela seethed. She had always been the one to receive all of the attention in the family. To hear Raya get complimented was close to poison to her, making her heart constrict and her veins boil with anger.
“I think she’s got no manners,” Michaela retorted. Joel laughed hard at that, and her honey-sweet smile returned once more, spreading across painted lips. “So, Joel, why are you here?” she asked.
“Are you on your way to New York?” their father asked. “Boys like you from the West are always on their way to New York. They think a small life in a big city is gonna make them important.” He shook his finger. Raya rolled her eyes, he had always been a rambler. “It’s the big lives in the small towns that are important.”
“Daddy, you’re going to bore our guest,” Michaela chided. “Why don’t we let him answer for herself?” She leaned back in the rocking chair, and it let out a delighted squeak at being used again. “What are you here for, Joel? There’s been plenty of rumors.”
“I’m looking for a wife,” Joel said.
Michaela sat up immediately like a bolt of lightning. “I knew it!” she cheered. “Some people were saying that you were just a vagabond, but I knew it wasn’t true.”
Joel nodded, tossing his gaze between Michaela and Raya. “I’m looking for a wife,” he repeated, “and I want both of you.”
Chapter Two
