COURT-APPOINTED MARRIAGE

by Dianne Castell

  Derek pushed his Stetson back on his head. "Well, now, there you go getting all picky. It just so happens that some of the more reasonable cousins and me got to talking and thought it'd be a mighty good idea for us to meet early to set things up here. Then I kind of let Sally Randolph know what we planned, and lo and behold if she and some of her more reasonable cousins didn't come early, too." Derek assumed a young-stud kind of look. "Worked out real nice, if ya ask me."

  "How long have you all been working?"

  Derek checked his watch. "One hour and fifteen minutes, and no one's had a fight yet. I'd say fighting is the last thing on their minds. It's nice not to have to sneak around and pretend we don't want anything to do with each other, when we really do. Usually we just have to accidentally show up at the same place. But today we're supposed to be here."

  For a moment Brice remembered when he'd been in that situation. Pru had always fascinated the hell out of him. He could still remember going to Sundae Annie's Ice Cream Parlor just to see Pru. 'Course, she was a Randolph, and seeing was all he could do.

  Brice asked, "Think Granddad Wes, Uncle Judd and the rest will show?"

  "Oh, they'll come because they're curious about you and Prudence, if nothing else. Everybody's going to be here." Derek looked around, catching Sally Randolph's eye as she strutted around carrying a hammer that she obviously had no intention of using. She was a cute girl—Randolph-cute with auburn hair and blue eyes. Not as cute as Pru, of course, but then no one was as cute as his Pru. Hmm, he liked the sound of that. He wanted Pru to be "his" for a long, long time.

  Derek said, "You know, big brother, now that we're here, I think this idea of yours was a pretty darn good one. Your marrying Prudence was even better. Sort of paves the way for the rest of us." He hitched his chin toward Sally and said to Brice, "I owe you."

  "Owe me enough to forfeit the down payment on that new truck you want?"

  Derek looked at Brice and howled with laughter. Then he headed back to the building site, where he snagged Sally around the waist, and they headed for the woods. At this rate the shelter wouldn't get finished until the next millennium, thought Brice. But the McCormacks and Randolphs were getting along, hallelujah for that.

  Brice parked the truck, then headed toward Pru. She hadn't noticed him yet; she was busy pointing out lumber, handing out bags of nails and showing the way to food and drinks. In a momentary lull, he came up behind her, whisked off her hat and planted a kiss on the side of her neck.

  "Brice?" She dropped the bucket of nails she'd been holding and gasped.

  He took another little taste of her sweetness. "It damn well better be Brice," he said on a laugh. He turned her around and grinned as he settled her hat back on her head. "Miss me?"

  Pru's eyes were shadowed as if she hadn't slept, and her mouth was too serious. He said, "Lighten up, cowgirl. Everything's going to be all right. It looks like these kids are interested in having fun more than fighting, and that's closer than our families have been in years." He kissed her warm lips, and felt desire shoot through him like a bolt of prairie lightning. Every time he kissed her, something incredible happened.

  "We … we have an audience, you know." She mouthed the words next to his lips. She was wound tighter than an eight-day clock.

  "We're married, remember?"

  Her gaze connected with his. Her eyes were anxious as she said, "I remember very well. Very, very well, and I want you to remember that, too." She let out a deep sigh, gave him a quick kiss, then bent down and started picking up the nails.

  This was all having a bad effect on her. He couldn't remember ever having seen her quite so upset. Pru was acting downright twitchy. He looked at his watch. Well, in seven hours it would all be over with a happy ending, and Pru would be back to her old self again. Then he could get her all to himself. Trouble was, seven hours was a hell of a long time to wait. He bent down and helped her pick up the nails.

  "How are things going so far?"

  "So far?"

  "With the kids? Are you okay?"

  "With this group it's a case of hormones winning out over feuding."

  "This I can definitely relate to." He shared a grin with Pru as they stood, but her expression seemed forced. He took the nails and set the pail on a stack of wood. He placed his hands on her shoulders and studied her closely. "What's wrong, Pru? I've never seen you like this."

  Granddad Wes's red pickup suddenly skidded around the corner, throwing loose gravel and mud everywhere. One look at that truck, and Brice knew Granddad was in a bad mood. He said, "I'm going to try to settle Wes down before he starts making problems where there aren't any. You watch out for your dad and Grandma Eulah, and see if you can do the same when they get here. If we get them to coexist for today, half the battle's won." Brice kissed Pru, then gave her a lopsided grin. "That's for luck. And don't be so worried. It's going to work, Pru. I know it."

  Then he took off toward the red truck. "Granddad," Brice yelled, as Wes got out. "Mighty happy to see you here. Glad you could make it. We can use your help."

  Wes yanked the brim of his ten-gallon hat down hard on his forehead and scrutinized the area. "Whose dang-fool idea was it to get Randolphs up here working on building something? The only thing they can build is trouble. Bet this idea belonged to that gal you married."

  Brice bristled but decided this was a time to smooth feathers instead of ruffle them. "Granddad, that gal is my wife, and it was her idea to get Randolphs and mine to get the McCormacks involved. Everyone uses this area, and we can work together to fix it up for the town. That's not asking too much."

  "Depends who you're asking." Wes heaved his toolbox from the bed of his pickup.

  Brice draped his arm over his grandfather's shoulder. "Come on over and have some fried chicken and potato salad, before you get to work. I think Pru cooked for days to get this all together."

  "Don't want no Randolph fried chicken. Who knows what's in it?"

  Brice nodded to the younger set. "They've been chowing down for the past hour and don't look any the worse for it."

  "Humph, what's your uncle Judd going to think if he sees me gnawing on Randolph chicken?"

  "Probably that he wished he had a piece or two himself." Brice headed Granddad toward the food table. "How about a long-neck to cool you off, then you can decide about eating."

  "Nope. Came here to work and that's what I'm aiming to do. Besides, we can't have the Randolphs soaking up all the glory for taking care of Serenity. This here is a McCormack town, too. Think I'll go help those young people up the hill a ways. Don't look like they got any notion about what they're doing, except fooling around."

  "What about working on some picnic tables?" Brice encouraged, hoping to give the young people a little more time together. "No one's working on those."

  "Making picnic tables is for some namby-pamby city person who doesn't know which end of the hammer to use. Save that for the Randolphs."

  Brice saw three of his uncles get out of their trucks and follow Wes. Then he looked back to the food table and saw Pru talking to her dad.

  The sight of Bob Randolph dressed in jeans and flannel shirt was unnerving as hell. For as long as Brice could remember, he'd only seen Pru's dad in expensive suits and ties. Pru and her father were lost in some serious discussion that Pru didn't seem too happy about. She looked completely stressed, far more so than when Brice had left her two days ago. He should never have gone to the south pasture.

  For the moment, the only loud sounds were hammering and sawing. No yelling, no threatening, no fighting. Already things were off to a better start than the wedding.

  "Yoo-hoo," Sunny called from a blue truck as it pulled into the parking area. "Prudence, Brice, we're here." Her truck and four others stopped behind the Willises', and Sunny called again as she got out, "The Serenity Garden Society's all ready to get to work."

  Sunny, the judge and a small parade of McCormack, Randolph and impartial men and woman began collecting flats of daisies, bu
ttercups, day lilies and small trees from the backs of trucks and Jeeps.

  Pru waved, but was looking worse by the minute. He had to get her to sit down and relax. After all, everything was going well.

  "Who would have thought that it was possi—" Brice swallowed his last syllable as he spotted Derek in a flat-out run, coming up the drive. His brother's face was pinched with concern, and he was breathing hard by the time he reached Brice, who asked, "Now what?"

  "A car wreck. Uncle Judd and Ms. Eulah ran into each other when they both tried to turn into the drive at the same time."

  "How bad?"

  "Just bad enough to cause trouble."

  Brice ground his boot into the ground. "Sounds like we're back to business as usual. Is everyone yelling and screaming insults and arguing over insurance?"

  "Yeah, but there's more." Derek exhaled a deep, exasperated breath and looked Brice in the eyes. "You and I both know the feud's had its share of cussing and swearing, split lips, black eyes and bruises. This time things have gotten out of hand. I think Eulah's arm is broken."

  * * *

  Prudence could tell by the serious look on Derek's usually happy face that something was wrong, even more wrong than usual when McCormacks and Randolphs got together. And that, in addition to those blasted letters from Wes to Eulah, was sure to head both families into a worse feud rather than the one that already existed. How was she going to tell Brice?

  And she had to do it soon, because she'd already given the letters to her father.

  "What happened?" she asked Brice.

  He took a deep breath, then said, "It's your grandmother. There was an accident at the bottom of the hill and Eulah's arm might be broken—"

  Prudence didn't wait to hear another word. She took off for the drive. As if alerted by some inborn family radar system, she knew other Randolphs were following right behind her—and probably McCormacks right along with them.

  When Prudence rounded the last turn she heard arguing and swearing and saw the side of Judd McCormack's truck mashed to the side of Grandma Eulah's white Lincoln. The driver's side of the Lincoln was open, and Sally was hunkered down beside Eulah. Prudence joined her.

  "Grandma, how bad is your arm?"

  "Well, I suppose I'm going to survive, but no thanks to the McCormacks, as usual."

  Bob Randolph stuck his head in the Lincoln. "Eulah? What happened?"

  "That no-account cowboy, Judd McCormack, and his hee-haw car ran me plumb off the road," Eulah yelled, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear.

  Judd pushed his gray Stetson to the back of his head and said, "Like hell I did. I didn't run you anywhere, Eulah. You cut me off when I came around the bend and tried to pass you! This here wreck's all your fault. Where'd you learn to drive, anyway?"

  Eulah wormed her way out of the car and stood, holding her arm. Her face was red and her eyes beady. She shot back with "Why would you try to pass me, you low-down varmint? You can't pass on this here road, everybody knows that."

  "I can if you're only doing five miles an hour, you old bat. You turned right into me when I went around you. Look what you've done to my car."

  "Look what you've done to my arm."

  Brice made his way to the front of the crowd, and stood between Eulah and Judd. "Everybody just be quiet."

  Bob Randolph retorted, "Who are you telling to be quiet?"

  Granddad Wes glared. "Brice is, because you and Eulah are making so dern much noise, no one can even think straight."

  Bob faced Granddad Wes. "From what I've seen, McCormacks never could think straight about nothing. They sure as heck don't know how to drive a nail right or how to hammer two boards together, for that matter. Never seen such shameful work as what you do, Wes."

  "Now just a goldarn minute," Wes replied. "No city-slicker lawyer's going to be telling me how to build anything. McCormacks have been building for many a year now."

  "Yeah," Bob Randolph snarled. "They sure enough have. And they've been doing that building on Randolph land for the past seventy years."

  "Says you," roared Granddad Wes.

  "Yeah, says me," yelled Bob Randolph. "And now I've got the proof to back up the Randolph claim."

  A long, loud horn blast drew everyone's attention to the truck making its way down the drive. Derek maneuvered his pickup around the crowd and the wrecked cars. He pulled to a stop and got out. "Prudence, you can use my truck to take your grandmother to the hospital."

  Eulah squared her shoulders and raised her chin. "I'm not riding in any McCormack truck. You can bet your bottom dollar on that."

  Prudence felt her self-control snap. "Grandmother, for crying out loud, get in the truck. You're going to the hospital, I'm going to take you there, and you're going to thank Derek McCormack for being kind enough to offer his truck for transportation."

  "When pigs fly! I'd just as soon walk to the hospital." And she headed down the road.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  « ^ »

  As Prudence turned her Lincoln down the new gravel lane that lead to the ranch house, she watched the last rays of sunset dip behind the rolling hills, turning pinks, purples and blues to shades of navy and gray. How could a day filled with so many problems end in such a beautiful array of colors? And her problems weren't over yet. There was still the letter debacle to deal with.

  Her stomach ached at the thought. How was she going to tell Brice what she'd done? How could she have done otherwise? She parked her car next to his truck and trudged toward the house. Halfway there she spotted Brice sitting on the front steps—the new front steps of her house.

  "How's Eulah?" he asked.

  "After I caught up with her a half-mile down the road and persuaded her to get her fanny in my car even though I'm married to a McCormack, she was okay. Her wrist isn't broken, no thanks to Judd. How could he run an old woman off the road?"

  Brice leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. He gave Prudence a long, hard look. "If you want my opinion, it looked more like Eulah turned in to him, trying to keep him from passing her. The cars scraped against each other more than hit."

  "My grandmother was hurt, Brice. Her wrist was sprained."

  "Knowing Eulah, it was from giving my uncle some creative hand sign when he tried to drive around her. She was probably hogging the road like she always does and going five miles an hour just to tick him off." He heaved a deep sigh, still looking at the ground and not at Prudence. "Our great plan didn't work out too great. Not only are our families battling worse than ever, but now we are, too." He patted a space next to him on the step. "Sit down. We can work this out."

  "Maybe."

  He slowly brought his gaze to hers. He looked so tired and drained, and now she was going to break his heart and probably hers, too. In five minutes all their plans and dreams would go right down the toilet, and it was her fault. Why had she given those papers to her dad? Then again, as head of the Randolph family, how could she not? The bottom line on all this was that the McCormacks had swindled the Randolphs. Period.

  "Pru, Eulah is going to be—"

  "This isn't about Eulah." Her stomach churned. She had to sit down, but that was the coward's way out. No, she'd made her decision when she handed over the letter; now she had to tell Brice what she'd done. "Actually, it is about Eulah, sort of, but not about the accident. It's about the feud."

  "Pru, everything's about the feud."

  "You know the letters I found, the ones belonging to Eulah. I found a few more. They were from Wes."

  If the situation hadn't been so dire, she would have laughed at the dumbfounded look on Brice's face. She continued, "It seems they were once sweethearts."

  "Sweet … Sweet…?"

  "They exchanged letters, confidences—they wanted to end the feud. And in one of the letters Wes confessed that his granddaddy had told him that the McCormacks did, in fact, know about the oil before buying out the Randolphs."

  Brice shot to his feet. Disbelief over
what she'd said mixed with anger, and he stared right at her. What had she expected? Diamonds and roses?

  "I want to see this letter," he demanded.

  "I gave it to my dad."

  His anger escalated; she could see it in his eyes. Then betrayal and hurt followed. She could barely breathe from the pain in her heart. Tears stung her eyes. But she refused to cry. She was the one who'd put this look on Brice's face, and she'd have to live with it.

  He said, "If these letters are authentic, why didn't Eulah bring them out herself years ago?"

  "They are real letters, Brice. I asked Eulah about them, and she didn't deny anything, but she didn't volunteer anything else."

  "What does Bob intend to do?"

  Prudence shook her head. "I don't know."

  "How could you do this? Why did you do this, Pru?"

  "I'm a Randolph. What was I supposed to do, Brice? Ignore the whole thing? Pretend I didn't see the letters?"

  "For starters, you could have waited till I came home. We could have discussed it."

  "So I could hand the letters over to you? This is probably going to wind up in court, and the way I see it, that's a good thing. It will put an end to the feud once and for all."

  "And an end to the Half-Circle."

  "If Cilus McCormack had been straightforward from the get-go, this all could have been avoided. Besides, I think there's something else going on with Eulah and Wes. They were trying to end the feud and be together. But it didn't work out for them."

  "And it's not working out for us."

  She felt weak. "I'm going to fix dinner. We'll eat and figure out what to do next."

  "We? After this, there is no 'we.' You made your choice and it's the Randolphs. I think you should go home."

  Even though she'd suspected he'd say something like that, his words stabbed right through her. "I am home. We're married, Brice, so technically this house is still my home. And to tell you the truth, arguing with you is a whole lot easier than listening to my family explaining to me in great detail just how awful the McCormacks are. I know better. I've heard enough McCormack-bashing to last me forever."