Page 44 of Don't Take the Girl
"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now. If I need to list all the reasons you should go in there and raise hell, I will."
It's been a week since I last saw London, and in that time, I haven't left Fairfield. The last time I saw London, he told me to leave, and I didn't want to risk running into him again. I want the element of surprise on my side when I show up at the wedding. Trigg texted me a few times throughout the week, but I left him on read until today, when I sent him a text.
Laney: Are you still looking for a plus-one for the wedding?
His text back left my jaw on the floor, adding another layer to this already twisted story.
Trigg: I'm glad my brother didn't scare you away. I'd love to have you on my arm today.
Brother! He mentioned a brother the other day, but I assumed it was someone else. London and I may have only been an actual couple for a few short years, but we were close friends before we ever dated. We shared everything, especially the woes of growing up in single-parent households and the weight of being the only child. Sure, he hid his mother from me for two summers, but he explained why. I know he mentioned his mother moved on and had kids with her new rich husband, but that marriage and those children would be younger than London, and Trigg is older. Plus, London used to talk about how he wished he had cousins, another house to visit on the holidays, something besides just him and his dad. One text sent me strolling down memory lane, and it's those good memories that erase the anger I was feeling, but it has also left me with so many questions. The questions are what got me into the dress. I deserve some answers,and if London won't give them to me, I think Trigg will. Maybe those answers will provide me with closure. I've never been able to let everything go, and I think that's because I didn't have a good reason to. Perhaps that's why we've been brought to this moment: for a reason to let it go. London marrying another woman sure feels like a start.
"You're right. I'm good. How about you? Has your teacher posted your test scores yet?"
"No," she sighs with an eye roll. "At this point, I'm just hoping things don't escalate. I'm sure I passed, but she wasn't happy about needing to make concessions for me to take the final hybrid for a 'death in the family.'" She uses air quotes to emphasize her lie.
When she found out London was a free man, there was no way she was going back to Louisville until she saw him for herself. So, she had Fisher call into the school, pretending to be her father, who is a major donor. I've been looking over my shoulder at every corner, waiting for him to arrive. I know it's only a matter of days before he shows up demanding answers too. My heart isn't the only one that was broken in London's absence.
"I still can't believe you haven't let things slip with Asha."
"I told you, he doesn't go by London here. People here know him as Dallas. You know why I don't talk about London, and finding out he has an entirely different identity here didn't change that, but I did ask her what she knows about him. Asha never mentioned he was Trigg's brother. She's heard of him, but her understanding is he was the hot new farmhand, not relation."
She taps her French-tipped nail on the back of her phone. "You know I've been thinking about that. Trigg could have been using that term loosely, not literally. They could be second or third cousins, and he considers him more of a brother than a cousin."
I blow out an anxious breath and lay my head against the seat rest. "Maybe. Your guess is as good as mine."
Her hand squeezes my thigh. "Look, we're here," she says as a sign made of hammered iron with the words "HALE RANCH" suspended from a sturdy wooden frame comes into view before the driver turns down the long, winding gravel road. Asha wasbummed she couldn't crash with Sydney today. Her father had a vital investor brunch an hour outside of Bardstown this afternoon, and he insisted Asha attend with him since she is expected to take on a leading role at Fairfield.
The gravel road stretches into the distance, the limestone crunching beneath the tires as traditional pristine white fences pass by the windows on either side. It's nothing like Fairfield. Fairfield commands awe with its grandeur from the moment your eyes glimpse the place. Every carefully manicured detail announces its pedigree—a stark contrast to Hale Ranch. Behind the fence, a few horses are grazing peacefully in expansive paddocks. In the distance, I can see a few barns, their metal roofs reflecting the sunlight. And nestled among a few shade trees ahead is the main house. It's not pretentious, boasting wings for entertaining potential investors. The house isn't boastful like Asha's but, in its simplicity, is everything.
The white clapboard siding contrasts beautifully against the charcoal gabled roof. The silhouette with the backdrop of the landscape is utterly breathtaking, but it's the turret and generous wrap-around porch that add a touch of whimsicality to the property, truly making it something plucked right out of a dream. It's charming. I never would have guessed Hale Ranch was one of Fairfields biggest competitors had Asha not shared that with me. Hale Ranch feels like a step back in time, and I'm beginning to understand why Trigg suggested I'd probably be more comfortable here. I would be—because this is my dream.
"Look over there. That must be where the wedding is going to be held."
I look out the opposite window, and a lake comes into view. White wooden chairs stand in perfect rows along the grassy bank, creating an aisle that leads directly to a dock. At the end, a gazebo perches over the water, draped in baby's breath and elegant white snapdragons.
My heart doesn't just skip—it falters then plummets. The lake was ours. Not this exact one, but back home in Willow Creek, weshared countless days fishing, swimming, and hanging out on the banks of Lake Texoma. So many firsts were spent together on those banks. Seeing him choose this venue for his big day is like a knife to the heart. It's like he's taken our memories and deliberately rewritten them. It's that intention that has my anger returning. How could he be so cruel?
The car comes to a stop, and Syd grabs my hand. "You ready to do this?"
"Yeah, I am," I confirm. I'm tired of hurting, but more than that, I'm tired of living in the past and grieving over a man who clearly no longer thinks about me.
"Good, because there's a fine-looking cowboy headed toward the car."
"That's Trigg."
"Really?" she asks, her tone dispirited. "Damn, he's better than the pictures. Too bad he's a Hale."
I laugh. "Don't worry. After today, we can go into town anytime you please, and you can lasso yourself a cowboy that's not Hale blood."
"I'm holding you to that." She opens the door on her side. "You owe me a tour on the Bourbon Trail."
"I know." I roll my eyes with a smile right before Trigg pulls open the door on my side. He extends his hand. "How'd you know I'd be in this car?"
"I'm familiar with Fairfield's town car." I narrow my eyes, his comment easily being read one of two ways. He sees the direction of my thoughts and quickly adds, "Small town. Not because I've frequented their backseats."
"Right," I say skeptically as I step out of the car. Asha is adamant there never was, nor will there ever be, anything between them, but I can't shake the feeling that he's using me, just like Asha. I don't believe Asha would flat-out lie to me, but I also wouldn't put it past her to leave out details. After all, we all have pasts, indiscretions, and skeletons we wish to keep hidden. It's why I don't press. I have secrets too.
"You look incredible," Trigg says, drinking me in from head to toe with one long glance.
