Legacy.
A strange word that held such incredible implications for my family. And by family, I really just meant Dakota. She loved our land. Adored being out at the crack of dawn and working every inch of it. And me… I was attached to the animals.
I enjoyed farm life for the most part. The seemingly endless span of acreage on our property that ran as far as the eye could see was magical every day. Mostly though, I wanted to help Dakota secure our birthright for generations to come.
Ready to face the music, I put one foot in front of the other. When I made it to the top of the stairs, the lights blinded me momentarily. My forest-green dress was fitted at the bodice and cut across my chest, the fabric hanging delicately off the shoulders. The gown hugged my natural curves but flared out just above the knees. The only day I’d felt more beautiful was when Jarod presented me with a promise ring prior to us making love for the first time.
My red hair was styled in thick, lush, bouncy curls that I knew gleamed under the spotlights. I had great hair, an hourglass frame, and had never had a problem catching the eye of the opposite sex. Jarod, however, had always managed to be right there to head off any would-be suitors.
I refrained from touching the empty space at my chest where the ring normally dangled. My stylist had demanded I remove it. Maybe she had figured out the significance, maybe not. Either way, removing the ring had felt like throwing away a piece of my soul.
“We have a treat for you bachelors tonight. The stunning younger sister of the McAllister duo, Ms. Savannah. Our dear one is aged twenty, is five foot nine, and has undeniable curves.”
I stopped at my X and softly placed my hands on my hips as I’d practiced in the mirror backstage. The pose accentuated my hourglass shape.
“Ms. Savannah loves animals and has been studying at Montana State University. She is well versed in the workings of a ranch and loves riding horses and spending her days surrounded by nature. Let’s start by gauging bachelor interest. Please cast your vote for our sweet girl.”
I pulled my hair over one shoulder and turned to the side, then arched my back, exaggerating my ample bosom and rounded rear end.
The room went silent, and I heard Madam Alana laugh whimsically. I turned around and noted the votes displayed on a large screen behind me. Holy Moses!
YES – 35
NO – 2
MAYBE – 13
I grinned at the yes tally, excited at how many eligible bachelors wanted a chance at my hand at marriage. I never in my life experienced such a rush of adrenaline fueled by pride. I turned my head over my shoulder sharply. Then I gave a little finger wave to the crowd as I smiled wide. The whistling and applause filled the room to a roaring degree.
“My, my, it sounds as though we have an eager room! My dear Savannah, I do believe this many interested bidders is a first.” She tapped her chin playfully. “Do I even need to unwrap this gorgeous package, or shall we start the bidding now?” she cooed, her words dripping with a sultriness I’d never in a million years be able to replicate.
The men started pounding and stomping their feet. It reminded me of being at a rodeo back home. Only in this scenario, I was the bull.
I clenched my teeth and let that crummy thought disappear. Instead, I lifted my spine, stood straight, and faced the audience dead-on. I’d never let a challenge best me in the past, whether it was a complicated test at school or helping Dakota break a difficult horse back home. Making as much money as possible in order to safeguard our family’s legacy was the most important challenge of my life. I would not fail. Dakota had secured four million in her auction; I wanted to match that or surpass it.
Madam Alana shrugged as though she hadn’t a care in the world. “The crowd has spoken. Let’s raise our paddles. The starting bid, as always, is three million for three years. Please lift your paddles if you are interested in the hand of Ms. Savannah McAllister.”
A sea of lit numbers exploded across the darkened audience. I could now see silhouettes, some men standing at high-top tables and others sitting in a long line of chairs, but I couldn’t decipher any of their features .
Except for one.
Number 50.
The man held the lit paddle directly in front of his face. It could have looked frightening, like when I was in grade school at camp, telling scary stories around a firepit with a flashlight held to my face. Only the way he held his paddle, his features were lit up like the brightest star in the night sky.
He was golden.
Tanned skin. Wavy, dark-blond hair that fell just past his shoulders and piercing eyes that seemed to look right through my bravado and straight to the frightened girl within.