Page 12 of Wildest Forever (Lovelock Bay #3)

CHAPTER SEVEN

MORGAN

S itting at the top of the field, I glance over our home, our land, and a shiver dances up my spine.

The thought of this being taken away from me physically hurts.

I know why my pops has done what he has done, but it somehow tastes a little bitter.

I knew from a young age I never wanted to marry and I sure as hell didn’t want kids. But as part of a promise to him, I agreed to marry Pacey Rivera.

The sun is sitting high in the sky, the late morning peeking between the mountains and I know it’s the calm before the storm.

The storm being Pacey Rivera.

My mind drifts back to life before my pops was ill. He was all I knew.

It’s always been me and him.

Taught me everything I know.

I was always his little cowgirl. I knew I wanted to work on the ranch from a young age.

I was always in such awe watching how he worked, he never stopped but he also never neglected me in anyway.

He was there for every supper, every drop off, every pickup and every school event.

He drove me to prom and collected me at ten p.m. sharp.

He was the mom and dad I never had.

He learned how to sew, and do my hair, he even used to shop for make up with me because I never knew anything. I never forget waking up in the middle of the night and he was reading up on what to expect with a teen girl my age.

He gave me everything and more.

And as much as I don’t want this next stage in my life, I knew I had to do it.

I owed it to him after all he has done for me.

Turning the rein on my horse, I open her up and canter down towards the house.

Slowing Barley to a slow trot, I gaze across the field when I see the blacked out Sheriff's truck pulling into the driveway and my heart drums in my chest.

I knew he was moving in today, but I don't think it had properly settled in.

I had no idea on what to expect, we would be living with each other as strangers but tied legally together as husband and wife.

Apprehension pricks at the base of my neck and nerves swarm in my belly as I tighten the rein and kick my mare on, picking up into a canter as her hooves hit the hard ground.

I lean forward, my hands up her neck, the warm summer's breeze tangling in my hair.

He was always going to beat me to the house, but I gave it a good go.

Slowing my gray palomino quarter horse, I halt as I look down at him, his eyes brightening when he meets my gaze and I give him a hint of a smile.

“Well, hello wife,” he teases, sun in his eyes, skin crinkling at the side as he places his hand over his eyes trying to shield it. White tee wrapped around his toned torso, light denim jeans and a backwards cap.

“Hello,” my tone is curt, and I twist my lips to try and hide the smirk that wants to present itself.

“Busy?” he tries to make small talk.

“Always,” my hands rest on the pommel of the saddle, reins loose as Barley drops her head.

Pacey's hand is out immediately, her pink nose burying in his hand as she sniffs him out before nudging her way to nuzzle into his chest. His hand runs down her nose as he steps to the side so she can see him.

“She's pretty,” his eyes lift from Barley and are back on mine.

“She is,” I nod, my lips twisting into a smile.

“Do you want to show me where to unpack? Don't want to just go wandering around your home looking for a room.”

“Sure,” I lean forward and swing my leg over Barley's back, both feet hitting the floor as I scoop her reins into my hands and lead her towards the water feeder, tying her up loosely.

“Do you need a hand out on the ranch?” he offers as I walk towards the porch, the step creaking.

“Mind that,” I say just as he steps on and his step falters.

“I'll get that fixed,” he looks below his feet at the now snapped wood.

I ignore him, pushing the latch of the handle down and move into the house, holding the door for Pacey to follow.

He doesn't deserve to look as good as he does.

His eyes scope the boxed hallway as he lets the door close softly into its frame.

“Where's your grandad?”

I look at the time then back at Pacey.

“Napping most likely,” I lower my voice as I look in the direction of the living room before I begin climbing the stairs and I hear the sound of his foot on the bottom one as he follows me.

Turning up the small hallway on the stairs, I continue forward.

“This is your room,” I roll my lips as I twist the old round doorknob and push into it with force as it opens. “Door’s a bit stiff, the old wooden frames swell in the heat,” I shrug my shoulders up before stepping into the room.

I wish I could calm the nerves in my stomach and the way my heart races in my chest.

Anxiety pricks at the base of my neck, and I really do hope that this is smooth sailing because I have no idea how to deal with him.

This is all new to me.

But instead of letting him into my heart, I throw my walls up and guard it off.

PACEY

I take one look in the room and my lip curls in distaste.

The bed is covered in a thick, cotton dust sheet, the walls chipped and marked. My eyes scope around the boxed bedroom slowly and I sigh.

Mold creeps into the corners, the windows nailed shut. The hardwood floors in desperate need of treatment, the room has a musty smell to it, and I can't stop my expression.

“Did you not think to sort the room before I moved in?” I try and make a joke of the situation, but I also wanted to make a point.

“I've been busy,” she shrugs a shoulder as she steps into the room and rips the dust cover from the bed and I watch the dust particles floating through the air.

“Look,” I step in, placing my hand on hers then moving it towards the dust sheet as I tug it from her grasp—with a little more force than I intended—then ball it up in my hands.

“This is not an ideal situation, and I can tell that you're clearly pissed about all of this, but let it be known, I'm not best pleased about it either, but it is what it is. We both agreed to make a dying man happy, so please, can we just drop the childish, bratty behavior and get along for the sake of your grandad?” my tone is curt and it has her staring at me all wide-eyed, lips popped open at my words.

“I don't want this anymore than you, trust me, but here we are. I've showed up, I'm willing to play the damn part but I can't play it alone, so have your five minutes of self-wallowing or throw yourself a pity party then get over it,” my eyes volley between hers and my heart is banging in my chest.

“Suck it up, Sunflower. ”

She says nothing, just storms out of the room and it's not long before I hear the sound of the front door being slammed.

“Childish,” I shake my head, scoffing as I do then throw the sheet across the room in a slight temper.

She got under my skin, and I let her.

Would have been easier to just bite my tongue, but I will not live here if she is going to make it insufferable.

It's not just her life that has been turned upside down, mine has as well.

Walking across the room to the large window, I inspect it before furrowing my brows at the nails.

“Was a terrible draft in here,” I hear Gerry's voice float through the room, and I exhale sharply as I turn to look at him.

“I had no way of fixing it, so just nailed it shut,” he leans against the door frame, his chest rising and falling a little faster, his eyes burning into mine.

I can hear the crackle as he inhales sharply, his nostrils flaring slightly.

“Am I going to find a lot of this?” I thumb behind me and my shoulders vibrate in soft laughter.

“I could lie but...” he smirks at me then glances over his shoulder, “don't mind Morgan... she is hot headed, she'll come around and once she does, you'll be smitten.”

I drop my eyes and kick the toe of my boot into the hardwood floor.

“Sir, I'm just here to fulfil a promise, that's all,” and when I look back at him, he has this charming, boyish grin slipped on his lips.

“Few things to know around here...” he trails off as he pushes from the door frame and begins walking into the room I am standing in.“Supper is at dusk, breakfast is at dawn,”

I nod.

Six p.m. and six a.m. give or take, depending on winter and summer.

“Morgan likes to cook, but she will give out chore lists.”I keep my lips tight and let him talk.“Fridays, she likes to go to Randy's, Sunday is family day. Doesn't matter what we do, we spend it together.”

His eyes break from mine as he brings his hand to his mouth and rubs it across his face.“I would like to keep all of this the same whilst we can.”

I know what he is insinuating, but I don't say anything.

“She could do with a hand on the ranch even though she will point blank refuse help.”

“I can help where I can, but I also have days where I'll be gone with the work being Sheriff brings.”

He bobs his head in a knowing nod.

“I understand you're not going to be here all the time but just read the room. Morgan is pretty good in showing you when she needs someone, she will never ask but her emotions and body language will tell you everything you need to know.”

“Okay,” I mutter, placing my hands on my hips as I look around the room that is to be mine for the next however long.

“I know it's run down, but a bit of paint and some odd jobs and it'll be good as new,” and I scoff a laugh.

“It'll be fine, it's just a room to get my head down at night,” I glance at the bed and I really did want to get a new bed set, I have no idea how long this has been sitting here for and who has slept in it.

“If you're thinking of changing anything...” Gerry continues like he can read my mind, “that's fine by me, just don't chuck any of it away,” he steps back and I mutter in agreement.

“I'm going to find Morgan,” he says, turning and gripping onto the doorframe as he steps over the threshold and back into the hallway. Dropping my head, I kind of feel like I have bitten off more than I can chew. But like always, I'll bury my head and just get on with it.

“Oh, and Rivera,” Gerry's hoarse voice has me lifting my head.