Chapter 9 An Unpleasant Reception

• Back at the ranch with her new husband, Alora’s anxiety was palpable. Her face was ashen, and she quickened her pace, feeling the weight of her decision.
• Her anxiety was made worse by the unsettling silence in the ranch, and even the occasional soft chirping of the bird a fair distance away made it no better.
• “Are you okay, Alora?” Hanson asked, his concern evident.
• His voice seemed to cut through the oppressive quiet, and Alora felt the enormity of the tasks ahead.
• Together, they stored the kegs in the shade near the stable. Alora then hurried off with a sack of herbicide chemicals, her thoughts tangled with the tasks left unfinished. It was almost dusk, and a lot needed to be attended to on the farm.
• "You seem stressed, dear. I can help with whatever you need," Hanson offered, taking the sack from her.
• “Careful with that,” she instructed, her focus still on the numerous chores awaiting her.
• The farm stretched out before them: the main farmhouse, the Casa, lay to the south, while the stable, stall, and barn were in the north. Behind them, the expansive fields needed tending. Alora managed every aspect of the farm herself.
• “And where in the world do you think you’re coming from at this ungodly hour, Alora?” Carol’s booming voice shattered the stillness as it echoed through the stable.
• Alora flinched and lowered her head, her heart sinking. Only this morning, she had thought that she would not have to see the face again.
• “Good afternoon, Aunt,” she said timidly.
• Ignoring Alora’s greeting, Carol turned her fierce gaze on Hanson, who still held Alora’s hand. “And who is this godforsaken thing with you?” she demanded, her tone sharp.
• Alora quickly pulled her hand away from Hanson and stepped back as Carol continued her tirade.
• “Just so you know, Alora, if you’ve hired a cowboy, you’ll be paying him from your own pocket. The farm can’t afford such luxuries,” Carol warned, glaring at Hanson.
• Alora stuttered, “No... I...” She tried to explain, but Carol cut her off.
• “You slothful thing. Do you think you do so much around here that you now need a cowboy? You’re lazy, Alora, and I’m not backing you up this time,” she threatened. “He is on you, Alora, and there’s no room in the Casa for him,” Carol glowered.
• “No...” Alora mumbled, her fear palpable.
• Despite her hard work on the ranch, Carol and her family lived off its profits and led extravagant lifestyles. Alora spent long hours tending crops, animals, milking cows, and doing household chores without complaint.
• Alora who did not agree with Carol, could not voice out her protest. If only a portion of the returns were invested in the farm, its produce will bloom all year round, and there wouldn’t be a need to ever consider Sir Edgar’s proposal.
• “No?” Carol’s disdain only grew. “You know how difficult it’s been for us to run the ranch because of your poor management. Now you’ve brought in an extra hand?” she spat, her anger boiling over.
• Contrary to Carol’s accusations, Alora woke before dawn each day to deliver fresh milk to town, returning just before the church bell rang. She packed her meals in an old flask and worked tirelessly on the farm, retiring to the attic, her makeshift room, on an empty stomach every night.
• “Such effrontery,” Carol seethed, her hostility growing.
• But for the stranger’s presence, she desperately desired to punish Alora for her perceived insolence. As a payback, she decided to double the workload on Alora going on.
• “I will take care of the horses now, Aunt,” Alora said, attempting to excuse herself from the confrontation.
• Carol grabbed her roughly as she tried to leave, causing Alora to stumble. In a swift motion, Hanson let go of the herbicide sack and caught her before she hit the ground. Alora, startled, burrowed into Hanson’s arms, trembling.
• “I demand that he leaves now,” Carol insisted, pointing at Hanson.
• Her eyes held a glint of bitterness, triggered by past memory. Years back, her brother, Billion, had returned with a lady, Melissa, from an adventure abroad, and the surrounding event arose a pang of guilt in Carol. Carol wished that memories about Melissa are washed away forever.
• “Uh... um...” Alora hesitated, her fear evident. The mere thought of defying Carol’s orders made her tremble.
• “Are you deaf, sucker?” Carol howled. “I said he needs to leave this property right away.”
• “But... but he can't,” Alora stammered, taking a step back in fear.
• She wished she could muster the courage to reveal Hanson’s true relationship with her and protect his right as her husband.
• Alora’s resistance came as a rude shock to Carol. It was the first time Alora had ever defied her so openly, fueling Carol’s anger. She raised her hand to strike Alora, but Hanson intercepted it with his own hand.
• “How dare you?” Carol bellowed, her voice a mix of surprise and fury.
• The sight of Hanson blocking her strike was a shock to Carol. The audacity of a “cowboy” standing in her way only intensified her resolve to drive him away. He can't be harbored in the ranch.
• “Don’t ever try to hit her again,” Hanson warned sternly.
• He had been eerily calm all along, watching the situation unfold, but he couldn't stand by and watch someone harm his wife. His swift action made it clear that he would not tolerate any violence toward Alora.
• “And who are you?” Carol sneered, her eyes assessing Hanson with disdain.
• She quickly decided he was uncultured and unworthy of respect, further fueling her desire to kick him out.
• Alora, overwhelmed with fear, pulled Hanson away from Carol. She had never expected anyone to stand up to Carol on her behalf, especially not in such a confrontational manner.
• “I am her husband,” Hanson declared, revealing their marital status to Carol.
• Alora’s breath caught as she saw the abrupt change in Carol’s expression. The word “husband” seemed to freeze the moment.
• “Husband!” a cold voice called from behind them.