“I do know. I know it’s hard, which is why you’re not doing it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you calling me lazy or a liar?”
I wondered if I needed to be worried about my job. If I lost my job, that would make this whole arrangement with Wyatt all for naught. “I’m saying you’re too busy trying to avoid a confrontation.”
“Gee, I’d think that was a strength. Diplomacy and compromise are a part of the job. You should know that if you ever want to be mayor.”
“You’re not compromising. You’re handing centuries-old farmland over to Stark so you can make the governor happy and add a few new jobs.” Before he could respond I added, “And giving lip service isn’t diplomacy. Stark is bullying and threatening farmers, and you’ve done nothing for them. They’ve lost confidence in you, Mr. Mayor. Some even think you’re getting a kickback.”
“Bullying? Kickback? What are you talking about?” He jerked back, genuinely surprised.
I rolled my eyes. “I guess you missed the part of my report in which Stark was sending henchmen out to intimidate the owners-”
“They have a right to make an offer-”
“They’re trespassing and frightening your community. They’ve even gone so far as to try to buy farms from people who have no right to sell them.”
His eyes narrowed. “Which is why you’re marrying him, isn’t it?”
I didn’t respond.
“I did a little digging and discovered that Wyatt Jones needs a wife to save his farm. How convenient that you’re willing to marry him. He’s not out to save the farming community. He’s using you to save his. No one else. He’s barely back a month and you’re marrying him. Tell me that looks legit. Jesus, did you even know him before?”
I put my hands on my hips. “I did. Very well. In fact, this wedding was planned ten years ago.”
He jerked back in surprise.
“Yeah, that’s right. I was planning to marry him before, so if you’d kindly leave, I’m late to my own wedding.” I jerked open the door and re-entered the chamber. Trina and Wyatt were trotting back to where the judge was chatting with my father. It was a sure sign that the two of them had been eavesdropping. That was annoying, but I also knew I was probably lucky Wyatt hadn’t burst through the door and clobbered Mo.
“Let’s get hitched,” I said, threading my arm through Wyatt’s and tugging him up in front of the judge.
“Everything okay?” Wyatt whispered next to me.
“Peachy.”
Ten years ago, when I’d imagined marrying Wyatt, I was in a lovely white princess dress with lots of sparkle, my hair and make-up were professionally done, and I was in church filled with friends and family
. I imagined feeling so happy and filled with love, I’d want the moment to last forever.
Today, I wore a white summer dress, I did my own hair and makeup, and I was in a judge’s chamber with a handful of people. At least my family was there.
I wasn’t feeling happy and didn’t want this moment to go on one minute longer. I supposed that was a bad sign for this marriage, but then again, it wasn’t real in the first place.
I was annoyed and ready to get this ceremony over with, which wasn’t fair to Wyatt or our guests, but everyone except the judge knew this was a fake marriage. Even Mo had ferreted it out. This was just a formality and something to make this marriage look real, especially to Stark.
The judge went through his spiel, and Wyatt and I said our “I do’s, repeated vows as per the judge’s instructions, and Wyatt slipped a simple band on with the engagement ring he’d forced me to wear.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Jones.”
Now we were married. A shot of sadness went through me that this was such a far cry from what I’d wanted ten years ago. It made me think of the saying, “Be careful what you wish for.” I wished to marry Wyatt ten years ago and now my wish had come true, but it felt so empty and lifeless.
Wyatt leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I was a bit surprised and even a little disappointed he didn’t go for a full lip lock, but perhaps he gleaned my mood and figured I wasn’t in any mood to act like this was a real wedding.
“I know this isn’t what we’d planned,” he whispered. “Even so, you’re beautiful and I can’t complain about being here.”
It was a sweet thing to say, but it brought home how much I’d lost when he left.
“Congratulations, honey,” my parents said, giving me a kiss.