Page 36 of Branded

I think about the auction. About standing on that stage in lingerie while men bid on me. About trading myself to save Janie. About becoming Mrs. Sebastian Drake in a transaction that had nothing to do with love and everything to do with ownership.

“I’m still working on it,” I say carefully.

Walker snorts from my other side. “Aren’t we all? It took me fifty years to figure out who I am beyond being a Drake. Sometimes I’m still not sure.”

“Walker, don’t be dramatic.” Eleanor shoots him a look, then returns her attention to me. “Is your mother still active in the ranch operations?”

“She left our family fifteen years ago.” My voice is barely above a whisper. I hate talking about my mother; what she did is unforgivable.

Eleanor’s expression softens; genuine sympathy replaces calculation. “I’m so sorry, dear. That must have been terribly difficult.”

“It was. I thought she was the heart of our family. We all kind of fell apart after she walked out.”

Staff begin bringing out the first course, some kind of soup that probably has a French name and was made by the Drakes’ personal chef.

“What did you study at Montana State?” Walker asks. “You mentioned a business degree, but is there more to it?”

“Business administration with a minor in animal science. They were practical degrees for ranch management.”

“Smart. Too many ranchers’ kids these days just go on following what previous generations did and then can’t actually run an operation when they have to step up.” Walker attacks his soup with the same efficiency he probably brings to everything. “Your father raised you right.”

“He raised me to work,” I state. “The first time I rode a horse alone, I was four. The first time I helped with calving, I was eight. By twelve, I could run the whole morning routine myself.”

“That’s proper ranching.” Walker looks at Eleanor pointedly. “None of this keeping kids away from work because it’s too dirty or dangerous.”

“Our children were perfectly involved in the ranch,” Eleanor says coolly. Apparently a nerve has been touched.

“Caroline never was involved, Nathaniel was my shadow. Now, Sebastian tried to be, but you kept pulling him away for social events and etiquette lessons. And James is feral.”

“Thank you, Father.” James laughs as he reaches for his glass. Even with the laugh, I sense his father’s words cut him deeper than he lets on. That maybe the jokes and easygoing attitude are to cover up for the hurt of never being Sebastian or Nathaniel.

“Sebastian needed both,” Eleanor says coolly. “We needed one child to be as comfortable in a boardroom as he is on horseback.”

“And look where that got him, running resorts in California instead of ranching in Texas.”

An old argument that clearly has deep roots. I focus on my soup, not wanting to be dragged into family politics on my first night.

“Sebastian’s built an empire,” Nathaniel says from the other end of the table, his voice carrying clearly. “Different from Dad’s empire, but just as impressive. We should be proud, not critical.”

“I am proud,” Walker replies gruffly. “Just wish he’d come home more often.”

“I’m home every month, and drop everything when you call,” Sebastian shouts down the table. “With my wife. Who you are all questioning instead of welcoming properly.”

“We’re getting to know her,” Eleanor says. “There’s a difference.”

“Feels a lot like interrogation from here,” James mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Caroline laughs. “That’s what we do, James.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“Quit being so sensitive,” Caroline barks. I know siblings squabble, but this is over the top.

“Caroline,” Nathaniel starts.

“What? We’re all thinking it. I’m just saying it out loud. And can we stop pretending this is anything but an auction marriage? She’s in trouble somehow and now it’s our problem. So what is it? Did you get into the wrong crowd? Borrowed money you couldn’t pay back? Are you pregnant and needed a way out? What?”

The room goes silent.