Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set) Page 5

  “What?” Wyatt demanded.

  “You have to be married.”

  My jaw dropped. So did Wyatt’s.

  “What?” he managed.

  Trina turned her screen to show Wyatt the legal documents handwritten before such things were typed. Now it had been scanned into our system when we finally went digital.

  “The good news is that your father divorced your mother, so he has no standing either. Unless he remarries and moves back home.”

  “Fuck.” Wyatt ran his fingers through his cropped hair. “Divorced?”

  “I don’t know if it’s a done deal yet. I know he filed. If it’s not done, he could simply return home.”

  My heart dropped as I realized I might be losing my most compelling leader in this fight. Wyatt was the type of man who could garner support from the community. His family had been there forever. He was strong and persuasive. He had a presence that suggested he could be a leader. But now, he didn’t have control of the property.

  “You need to get married.” Trina said it like it was something he could do like an errand. Pick up milk and bread, gas up the car, get married.

  He stood in stunned silence.

  “You know,” Trina said, looking at me in a way that made me shift uncomfortably. “I know Stark has no scruples if he’s willing to threaten farmers, but how would it look if he was also threatening a town leader?”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  She looked from me to Wyatt and back to me. “You two have the same goal in mind. Stop Stark. To do that, Wyatt needs to have complete control of the farm, which means he needs a wife. You’ve been talking about moving out of your folks’ home. Plus, you’d be involved first-hand in the fight. Mayor Valentine could hardly reprimand you for taking sides on the issue if it personally involved you and your husband.”

  I nearly choked, sneaking a glance at Wyatt. His head whipped around to look at me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, except he didn’t appear to be as horrified by the idea as I was.

  “Stop joking, Trina. This is serious.” God, if she only knew how serious her suggestion was. Granted, I’d wanted to marry him at one time. I couldn’t deny that even today, I was attracted to him. But I had a secret that I still kept from him. I didn’t feel bad about not telling him before, after all, I couldn’t find him. But now, my conscience told me I had to tell him. At the same time, what if Stark won, and Wyatt tossed in the towel again, leaving Salvation and me behind like he did ten years ago?

  She shrugged. “Back when this crazy deed transfer rule was made, I’m sure the Jones marriages were all set up like this. Marriage used to be a business deal, after all.”

  “This isn’t 1880 anymore,” I huffed out. “The idea is ridiculous.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Ridiculous?”

  Oh God, is he offended? “You know what I mean.”

  He shook his head. “No. Enlighten me.”

  7

  Wyatt

  There was a moment when I thought, “Yes, that’s what I want.” I knew it was a wacky idea, but my heart rolled in my chest at the idea of finally having what Sinclair and I had once planned.

  She thought the idea was ridiculous. It was, and yet, I couldn’t help but feel slighted by her response. At one time she loved me. She’d planned to be with me. So, what was wrong with me now? Except of course that I’d disappeared for ten years.

  She rolled her eyes. “How is a marriage to me going to change anything?”

  “Like I said, he needs a wife to secure the property to him. And with you married to him, you’re now tied to the property. You can take a personal, active role. The mayor might fuss, but no one in town would blame you for fighting for your man’s heritage and legacy.”

  I bit my lip to keep from laughing at the over-the-top explanation. Then again, I supposed the land was my heritage.

  Sinclair stared at the both of us like we’d gone nuts. “What if your father comes back?”

  “Once you’re married, you can file to be recognized as the proper owner.” Trina talked like getting married was no big deal. It was a big deal. One that I was willing to make.

  “Won’t his father have the ability to appeal?” Sinclair asked.

  “Sure, but will he? Everyone knows the farm was starting to fail with all of Frank’s drinking and carousing.” Trina looked up at me. “No offense, Wyatt.”

  “No offense taken.”

  “Plus, he’d have to come back to town to live on the property and work the land. I heard he went with Cassie to California.”

  “Cassie?” I asked.

  “Cassie Landry,” Sinclair said. “She worked with Ryder at the Salvation Station.”

  I stared at her. “She’s our age. My father ran off with a woman my age?” Jesus, he was a pervert too.

  Sinclair gave me a sympathetic smile.

  “Cassie has dreams of being a big star. Chances are neither of them want to come back,” Trina said.

  “Considering the effort Stark is putting forth to get the property, it makes sense he’d hunt your dad down,” Trina said.

  “And my dad is just the type of asshole to sell the property out from under my mother.” Fucker.

  “Even so, your claim is weak if it exists at all until you are married,” Trina said.

  “It could work,” I said with a glance at Sinclair.

  She gaped at me. “Trina is nutty, but I thought you, Wyatt, had more sense.”

  The words were like a stab to the heart. It wasn’t much different from when she told me she couldn’t run off with me ten years ago.

  “The deputy mayor fighting for her family farm. It could help get the attention and support you say we – and by we, I mean all the farmers in Salvation – need.” I looked her in the eye. “And be honest, the idea isn’t that crazy.” I wanted her to remember that at one time getting married had been the plan.

  “I don’t see how a fake marriage is the solution to anything except in romance novels or rom-coms.”

  I flinched at the word fake. I realized that in my mind, I’d already followed through on this idea. We were married and we would stay that way. Nothing fake about it. But if she’d need to think it was fake, I could go along with that. Once I had her in my home, I could remind her how good we were together.

  “It’s a genius plan, really.” Trina grinned from behind her computer. “Not only will you fight off Stark and his goons, but think of how it’ll help you when you run for mayor. Who wouldn’t vote for the woman who saved Salvation from being bullied into becoming a prison town? And who knows… If married life suited you, you’d be married to one of the oldest families in town.”

  I liked having Trina make the case for me. She had a point. Perhaps framing this in terms of supporting Sinclair’s ambition was the key to convince her of this plan.

  “We’d be a power couple. You, a dedicated public servant and me, part of the history of this town. Would it help that I’m a decorated vet? People like to support veterans, don’t they?”

  Sinclair frowned at me. “What?”

  “I enlisted when I left. Eventually I served in the Special Forces. I received a few medals.” I’d have to figure out what I did with them. It was nice to be recognized, but they weren’t something I displayed or bragged about. But if they helped me convince Sinclair to help my family and be with me, I wasn’t too proud to use my military experience. “Being hitched to me couldn’t hurt your campaign.”

  Sinclair bit her lip, the first sign that she was considering this crazy idea. I felt like I was eighteen again, and wanting her so badly, but afraid she’d say no. My breath stalled in my chest as I waited for her answer.

  She gave her head a quick shake. “It’s insane.” She turned toward her office.

  And there it was again. My heart tearing at her rejection. I felt ridiculous. After all, this was only the second time I’d seen her since my return. I shouldn’t feel so attached to her.

  Disappointed, I
made my way to the door to leave the mayor’s office. “I’ll take on Stark single-handedly if I have to.”

  “I’ll bet there’s someone in town who’d marry you,” Trina said.

  “Will you?” I asked, not seriously, but wondering if Sinclair would give a shit if another woman took the role of my wife.

  Sinclair stopped in her doorway and turned, glaring at me.

  “Ah…maybe not me.” Trina looked from me to Sinclair.

  “It would be nice if someone in the mayor’s office gave a shit about the farmers in this community. I guess some sacrifices are too great. Then again, I’m not surprised. I’m just a dumb farm boy.” Okay, so that was laying the guilt on a bit thick. But I was pissed. Yes, it was a crazy request. Yes, I was being selfish. But dammit, was marrying me to save Salvation really that revolting to her?

  I was in my truck heading back through town when I realized I never did talk with the mayor. But I got my answer. He was a diplomat. I’d been gone too long to know what the job situation was in Salvation. Perhaps the townsfolk wanted jobs in a prison more than they wanted to preserve a farming community. Me, I was going to fight.

  It occurred to me that my standing in terms of ownership of the farm was precarious. Maybe it was time to hire a lawyer. I didn’t want to waste money, but perhaps that was an investment we needed to protect ourselves. My mom didn’t have a lot of money. Trina was right in that my father was too interested in booze and broads to farm. We were lucky he had good farmhands.

  My mother had hired a manager and foreman when my father left, both of whom had done a good job of managing the ranch. I hated to let them go. One was able to find a job on a farm in a neighboring town. The other was on the verge of retirement as it was, and decided to take a small severance from us. He was the one who encouraged my mother to contact me and bring me home. The end result was that the ranch should show an increase in productivity now that I managed the ranch.

  I had a little money saved that I could put toward a lawyer as well. The more I thought about it, agreeing to marry on a whim to save the farm, when I wasn’t exactly sure what the legal issue with the deed or title was, wasn’t smart. I pulled over in front of the soft-serve ice cream place and used my phone to look up lawyers. Salvation wasn’t that big, but there were a couple to choose from.

  I went with Collier Schmidt because I remembered him from going to high school with his kids. His son was in my grade and I’d dated his daughter, who’d been two years older than me, when she was a senior.

  As I drove to his office, I wondered what he’d think if he knew his daughter initiated our sex. She’d been my first, but I hadn’t been her first. Not that she’d been promiscuous. But she’d never been without a boyfriend since I’d known her. At the time, I remembered feeling like the big guy of the sophomore class because I was dating a senior.

  That first time having sex, I was scared shitless that I was going to embarrass myself. After that, sex was easy, until Sinclair. I was scared with her too. Scared it was a mistake and I’d ruin our friendship. Scared that I’d hurt her because I was pretty sure it was her first time. Scared Ryder would kick my ass, not that he could, but that I’d have to let him because friends didn’t fuck their friend’s sister. And when it was done, I nearly panicked when I realized I hadn’t used a condom. I didn’t say anything to her because I didn’t want to scare her either. Maybe she was on the pill. Sinclair was the type of girl to be responsible like that. When a couple of weeks passed and she didn’t say anything about a pregnancy, I could be confident I was in the clear. Then my father beat my mom, I beat my father, and I left town.

  Jesus, my life was one big risky move after another.

  I parked in the parking lot in front of Schmidt’s law office, deciding to walk in instead of call, hoping that would give me a better chance to be seen.

  “Why, as I live and breathe. It’s Wyatt Jones.”

  I nearly laughed as Jeannette Schmidt, the girl who’d taken my virginity, greeted me. “Jeannette, how are you?”

  “Good.” She gave me a friendly hug. “I didn’t know you were back.”

  I nodded. “Yep. Back on the ranch. You working with your dad?”

  “I got my law degree and instead of moving to New York, like I’d planned, I came home. Married Mark Carson. Have two kids.”

  I wasn’t jealous, but I did have a moment of emotion thinking that could have been Sinclair’s story. Get her degree. Come home to marry her sweetheart. Have a couple of kids. That was what we’d planned.

  “How about you? What’s your story?”

  I shrugged. “Ran away from home. Joined the military. Did a few tours. Dad abandoned Mom. Come home to save the family farm.”

  She made a face of disgust. “Stark after your place too?”

  “Yep. That’s why I’m here. There’s some weird deal about how the farm is passed through the family. My dad wants to sell and keep the money. My mom insists he can’t do that because he’s not living and working on the farm. I want help in figuring out my rights and what I can do to fight Stark.”

  “You’re in luck, because I have some time, if you want.”

  “I don’t have the deed or will information…or whatever you’d need from me.” I was an idiot to come unprepared.

  “I can search public records.”

  I followed her into her office. It was neat and tidy, with pictures of Mark looking rounder and softer than he had as a high school football player, and two cute kids.

  “What’s Mark up to these days?”

  “Fighting Stark and growing soybeans.”

  Good. She’d understand. Sinclair was on our side, but I wasn’t sure she truly understood the farming life. She’d grown up in Salvation, but not on a farm. Her mother was primarily an at-home mom while her father owned the local grocery, selling many of the goods grown in Salvation.

  “So, let me see what I can find on your farm,” she said, typing into her computer. A few minutes later she gave a soft laugh. “Well, that’s interesting.”

  “What?” Of course, I had an idea.

  “This goes back to practically the beginning of the farm and how it passes to the descendants. It says here that the farm can’t be sold unless all adult Jones eligible for ownership agree. I assume that’s you and your dad.”

  “Right.”

  “It also says that ownership involves living and working the land, which if I understand correctly, eliminates your father.”

  “I hope so,” I said.

  “But this part… I don’t suppose you’re married?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Your claim is better than your father’s as you’re here and I assume you’re running the ranch?”

  “I am.”

  “But to sell, you need to be married.”

  “I don’t want to sell. I want to keep the land. I want Stark to not be able to buy the land.”

  She frowned. “This is strange, because it’s almost as if your land is unsellable because neither you nor your father has absolute ownership. If your father came home that would be different.”

  “I’m told he filed divorce papers.”

  She bit her lip as she studied her computer a little bit more. “We could go to court and petition to have you deemed the rightful owner as a means to protect the family farm against Stark.”

  “Is Stark doing that with my father? He had some goons show up and try to tell us my father was selling the farm.”

  “It’s possible. I think your claim is better, and I’d recommend you file to get a judgement that you own the farm.” She looked at me, lacing her fingers together and resting them on her desk. “It would help if you were married. Any prospects in that department?”

  “No. But I could try without a wife because of this unusual situation?”

  She nodded. “I would.”

  “Can you draw up the paperwork? How fast can I do this?”

  “I can have something for you to sign in a day or two.”r />
  “Great. What do I owe you?”

  She smiled. “How about we do some paperwork to make me your official lawyer. I’ll need details about when your father left and whatever Stark has suggesting your father is trying to sell the property.”

  “I’ll get that to you right away.”

  I signed the retainer, handed over my credit card number, and gave Jeannette the information I had with a promise to get the rest of it to her tomorrow.

  I felt slightly better as I headed home. Sinclair’s reaction to the idea of marrying me still stung a little, but I was hopeful I’d be able to save the farm on my own.

  8

  Sinclair

  I shut my door and fell into my chair, rubbing my hands over my face. Wyatt sure knew how to make an exit. He was being the asshole, and yet I was the one who was made to feel like a jerk. Just now, and ten years ago. Then again, I was a terrible person too. In fact, I thought my deception was worse than what he’d done. He’d left my life suddenly and returned just as unexpectedly. I was having a hard time adjusting and determining the best course of action. I knew getting married couldn’t be the answer though.

  He’d been open to Trina’s wackadoodle idea. At one point, he even questioned if it was really crazy. What did that mean? I thought maybe he was reminding me that at one time, we’d planned a life together. So no, the idea of marrying Wyatt hadn’t always been a crazy idea. Even after he left, I’d longed for him to return, sweep me into his arms and make true the dreams we once had. But I’d given up on that dream long ago.

  Now the idea of marrying him to save the farms of Salvation felt like an exercise in futility. Trina clearly thought I had more power than I had if she thought marrying Wyatt would make Stark think twice about coming after the Jones farm, or encourage more people to support the fight against Stark’s prison.

  I guess some sacrifices are too great. Then again, I’m not surprised.

  Was he really guilt-tripping me about not marrying him now and for not running off with him ten years ago? Why were his needs more important than mine? I followed through with our plans. I went to school. I came back to work. He was the one who hadn’t been willing to make the sacrifice.