COURT-APPOINTED MARRIAGE

by Dianne Castell

  "If you don't leave, Pru, I will."

  "This is your land, and you have to take care of the cattle. And maybe, if you and I can present a united front, showing we can work things out, our families will come to some compromise, too."

  "There is no compromise when it comes to the Half-Circle. It belongs to the McCormacks. We've worked it and made it what it is today." His eyes were cold when he looked at her. "You betrayed me, Pru."

  "And if I hadn't turned over those letters, I would have betrayed my family. Tell me, Brice, what would you do if you were in my shoes?"

  He looked at her for a moment, then turned and headed for the barn. She went inside the house, closing the new oak-and-glass door behind her, leaning against it for a moment, trying to forget about the day and let the smell of fresh paint and varnish wash over her. The only things she knew for sure were that she was staying here and that she was sleeping on the couch. She couldn't sleep in the brass bed upstairs, where she and Brice had made love, but she was not leaving her house.

  Why had she read that letter? Sunny had warned her that snooping led to no good, and the woman had been so very right. Maybe she shouldn't have given the letter to her dad. Then again, could she live with herself if she didn't? There had to be some way for the Randolphs to get what was rightfully theirs and for the Half-Circle to stay with the McCormacks. But she had no clue what that way could possibly be.

  She sat down on the couch and gazed out the window, watching daylight fade to night. She laid her head back, closed her eyes and slept … only to be awakened by a terrible pounding on the front door.

  Her eyes shot open and her stomach rolled. She had no idea how long she'd been asleep, but the house was now dark.

  More knocking echoed through the house, making her head throb. "I'm coming, I'm coming." She fumbled around for the floor lamp and finally managed to turn it on. Her stomach lurched as she made her way to the front door and looked out the side window. Whoever it was, they were so close to the door she couldn't see them. "Who's there?"

  "Pru?"

  Brice? It didn't sound like him. It didn't sound like anyone she knew.

  She looked out the peephole in the door but couldn't see a thing. If she stayed out here on the ranch, she was going to get a dog. Something with a lot of teeth. She grabbed a can of varnish from the floor. If she was desperate, she could throw it at the person on the other side. When he doubled up with laughter, she could make her getaway.

  Cautiously, she opened the door—to find Brice standing on the porch. Actually, he was supporting himself in the doorway with one hand on one side of the door frame and one on the other. His shirt was torn, his eye swollen, his jaw bruised, his lip split, his hat backward.

  "What happened to you?"

  "I had a little altercation in town."

  "Let me guess, with a Randolph."

  "Every dang one of them I could find, darlin'." He stumbled, and she caught him before be fell, letting most of his weight land on her.

  She put the can of varnish back on the floor. "Brice McCormack, you're drunk."

  "As a skunk and proud of it."

  "Did you drive like this?"

  "’Course not. I hitched a ride with good old Sheriff Pritchard. Told me to go sleep it off somewhere. Told him to drop me here 'cause I intend to give you a piece of my mind."

  "Right now, you don't have any to spare. Come on in."

  "I don't want any part of a Randolph house that—"

  "Brice. Just shut up. I want you to walk over to the couch. I'll help you."

  "Don't want your help."

  "Tough." She shuffled him into the house and onto the couch. "I'm going to get some water and aspirin and ice. Just lie down. And don't you dare throw up on our new couch."

  As she went into the kitchen, she reasoned that this was all her fault. Brice had never behaved like this in his whole life. Probably because no one had ever seriously threatened to take the Half-Circle away from him. And the Half-Circle was his, totally and completely. If she could undo one thing in her life, it would be reading that damn letter.

  When she went back into the living room, Brice was sprawled across the couch. It had seemed really big … until now. "Wake up." She knelt down beside him.

  "Uh-uh."

  She poured two aspirin into her hand, then cradled Brice's head. "Open your mouth and take these." She held the glass for him and encouraged him to drink. Then she put ice wrapped in a towel on his lip and one on his head, and watched him drop back to sleep.

  She loved him. She loved him with every bone in her body. She'd known that for some time, now, but was afraid to admit it because things just might not work out.

  Well, guess what, skippy? Things didn't work out any worse than this, and she loved him now more than ever. Nothing between Randolphs and McCormacks followed a logical path—why should her love for Brice be any different? And whatever happened between their families, it wouldn't alter her feelings for Brice one iota. She digested that for a moment.

  Suddenly she heard the crunch of a car on gravel. Someone else was coming? This wasn't the old Dillard ranch, it was Serenity's answer to Grand Central Station. The car lights died, and a moment later she heard footsteps on the porch. Looking out the peephole, this time she saw Judge Willis. She opened the door, and the judge nearly fell into the room, his hand raised mid-knock.

  She asked, "What happened now?"

  The judge closed the door behind him as he came inside. His hair stood out in all directions, and his clothes had been thrown on without much concern for what went with what. This was not the meticulous Judge Willis who presided in the Serenity courthouse. He ran his hand through his already scary hair and rubbed his graying stubble, while looking from Prudence to Brice.

  "We've got a big problem. Your dad phoned me at four a.m.—damn his hide. He wants to meet me at nine sharp at the courthouse. Said he's going to sue the pants off the McCormacks and wants to set up a court date. Figured I should tell you about all this in person, since I got you and Brice—" The judge glanced at Brice on the couch. "What happened to him?"

  "Feud overload. Did Sunny tell you about the letter?"

  "Yep, and I'm guessing that's what's got your dad on the warpath, and I'm guessing you told Brice and that's why he looks like he lost a fight with a bobcat."

  "Well, Judge, what are we going to do now?"

  "I don't rightly know. But I want you at the courthouse when your daddy comes through the door. Maybe we can work out a compromise. You never know what's going to happen when things wind up in court, so let's try to avoid that."

  "I'll be there without Brice. If he and my dad get in the same room, all hell will surely break loose. Besides, tomorrow morning my dear husband's not going to be in any shape to go anywhere."

  * * *

  Brice pried open one heavy eyelid, and immediately shut it when a shaft of sunlight pierced clear through his brain. He had to be the only cowboy in Texas who got drunk on four beers. Never could drink worth a damn. Derek got all the drinking genes. Damn unfair gene pool. Brice touched his other eye that refused to open at all. Ugh. He must have been in a fight. He licked his dry lips and felt the sting of a cut there. Two fights. He flexed his hand, feeling how swollen and sore it was. Damn, he'd been in a whole ton of fights, and this morning he was paying for it.

  "Feeling better?" It was Pru. He gingerly opened his one good eye, careful not to open it too far.

  "What am I doing here? I don't want any part of this place or you."

  "Yeah, well, people in hell want ice water, and they don't get that, either. I'm going into town to meet with Willis and my dad to see what he plans to do about the letter."

  "You mean what he plans to do about my ranch." Brice sat up, feeling worse than when he rode bulls at rodeo time. "You're not going anywhere without me. It's my ranch you're planning on carving up like a Thanksgiving turkey, and I'm going to do what I can to stop it."

  "Suit yourself. We have to leave here in fif
teen minutes."

  Forty-five minutes later, they pulled into the town square. Brice couldn't believe he had to search for a parking place near the courthouse at eight-thirty in the morning. No wonder he was a rancher; if he had to face this every day, he'd go plumb nuts. He cast a quick glance at Pru. They hadn't talked much since they'd left the ranch, mostly because his stomach and head weren't up to conversation. Besides, what was there to say except "Here we go again."

  Pru had on one of her power suits. This one was green, kind of like the skin of a kiwi. He wasn't fond of kiwi, and he hated those suits. They didn't fit the Pru he knew. Then he thought about the letter and decided maybe the suit fit her better than he realized. She was looking bad, really bad, worse than he felt, and that was saying something. "You okay?"

  "Jelly belly. That's all. Brice?"

  He heaved a big sigh. "I know. You're sorry. But sorry doesn't change much, does it?"

  "Actually I was going to tell you that you're parked in a No Parking zone."

  He backed out of one space and pulled into another, as Pru said, "Maybe you and Dad can come up with a cash settlement?"

  "McCormacks don't have cash like that. The value of the ranch is in the ranch itself and the oil wells." He and Pru sat in the truck for a moment; neither of them wanted to go into the courthouse. Brice finally said, "For what it's worth, Pru, I thought about what you said, about what I would do if I had found that letter and I was in your shoes." He touched her chin, turning her face toward him. "I honestly don't know what I would do. I guess no one does until they're in that particular place."

  Brice slid from behind the wheel, then came around and opened the door for her. Side-by-side they walked toward the courthouse. It wasn't exactly a united front, but they were together when they met up with Bob Randolph coming out the door.

  "Prudence, my girl, you're just the person I want to see." Bob had deep circles under his eyes and fatigue lined his face, but his appearance was immaculate as always. He wedged himself between Brice and his daughter, and took Prudence's elbow and ushered her inside the courthouse, heading for Willis's chambers.

  Brice followed, grinding his teeth all the way. He wanted to tell Bob Randolph to unhand Pru, that she was his wife and that Bob had no right to come between them. But Bob had already done that to the point where Brice doubted if he and Pru could ever solve their differences. Besides, she was looking sicker by the minute, and another McCormack-Randolph confrontation in City Hall was not what anyone needed right now. He'd settle up with Bob Randolph later.

  When they reached Judge Willis's chambers, the judge's secretary showed the three of them in, then closed the door. Brice would bet dollars to a dime that the secretary had her ear pressed firmly to the door at this very moment, and that whatever went on in this room would be top billing on the Serenity gossip circle by nine-thirty at the latest.

  "All right," Judge Willis said, after the three of them sat down. "What's this all about, Bob?"

  "First off, I hadn't figured on Brice being here, but since it concerns his family, he might as well stay put. I intend to sue the McCormacks for the land their granddaddy swindled out of my granddaddy seventy yeas ago, and I have a fifty-year-old letter written by Wes to Eulah to prove it." Bob waved the letter in the air.

  Willis folded his hands on his desk, and his brow furrowed into deep lines. "Bob, why don't you and Brice agree to some kind of out-of-court settlement and set things right once and for all?"

  Bob said, "This here's something that should have been done years ago, and I intend to do it now. Half of the McCormack ranch belongs to the Randolphs, and that's just what I aim to prove."

  Brice was nearly speechless. Judge Willis looked frazzled. Pru gagged, grabbed the trash can by the judge's desk and threw up.

  "Pru?" Brice held her shoulders and rubbed her back. "Are you all right?" He handed her his handkerchief.

  Bob huffed. "Of course she's not all right. She's married to a McCormack. What in tarnation could be right about that?"

  Pru pulled in a ragged breath. "Dad, that's enough." She took a drink of water from the glass the judge handed her. Brice opened the door to the chamber—nearly toppling the secretary into the room—and handed her the trash can. He figured it was the price she paid for being in the wrong place at the right time.

  Brice closed the door, then turned to Bob Randolph and said, "This is getting mighty old, Bob. Letter or no letter, Jacob Randolph got paid for his share of the Half-Circle seventy years ago. You know that, I know that, the whole blamed town knows that. It was a legal transaction. Besides, you can't sue over something that happened way back when. Ever hear of a statute of limitations?"

  Bob Randolph glared and waved the letter again. "There was fraud involved—and there are exceptions to every rule, McCormack. I want to take this to court, and then you can kiss part of your ranch goodbye."

  Pru looked greener than ever, but stood and faced Bob. "Dad, listen to me. We don't need to go to court. We don't need the Half-Circle Ranch. We have all the money we could ever want. Our family's happy living in town. None of us could saddle a horse if our lives depended on it, and all we know about cows is that we like our steaks medium rare. Why do you want to do this?"

  Bob drew himself up proud. "’Bout time a Randolph took what was rightfully his." He looked possessively at Prudence. "You can help me with this. Like I said, it's for the family."

  Judge Willis said, "If you're wanting your day in court, Bob, I'm willing to oblige you, just to settle this dang thing. We'll meet in court in two days for an informal hearing to see if a trial's warranted."

  Bob nodded. "That's fair enough, Judge." He turned to Prudence. "Come on. We've got a boatload of work to do. Two days doesn't give us much time."

  Prudence stood, then turned to her dad and said, "I need to talk to Brice. Alone."

  "Why?" Bob asked, sounding aggravated that she'd suggest such a thing.

  "Because we're married, and he's my husband. Now if you don't mind…"

  After her dad and the judge left, Prudence took another sip of water and tried to settle her ailing gut. Brice looked relaxed as a hound dog sleeping by the fire, which meant he wasn't relaxed at all. Prudence paced the room twice, paused in front of the chair where her father had sat, growled, then kicked it over backward.

  "I can't believe Dad's doing this."

  She watched a lock of black hair dip over Brice's forehead. He was the most handsome man she'd ever met. He was also the most caring, responsible, hardworking person on the planet. And she realized, again, just how much she really did love him—and how close she was to losing him forever.

  "I'm not going home with you, Brice. I'm staying in town with Dad."

  "Why am I not surprised?"

  "Because you have no faith in the fact that I really want you to keep the Half-Circle."

  "You have a mighty strange way of showing it."

  "You're disappointed and mad as hell that I did this to you. Well, I'm going to try to come up with a way to fix it. I have no idea what that is, but I can't do it from the ranch. I have to see what Dad's up to and talk to Eulah and make some sense of this letter business. There's something we're missing. Something we're not picking up on."

  Brice stood and gave her a hard look. "Prudence—"

  "You never call me that."

  "Well, I am now. Stay wherever it suits you. Do whatever you have to do. But excuse me if I don't put the future of the Half-Circle in your capable Randolph hands. You've already proven where your allegiance lies, and it isn't with me."

  She jabbed her hands on her hips and pulled herself up tall. "Well, I've got a news flash for you, cowboy. That road runs both ways. When it came to choosing between me or the Half-Circle, we both know what you chose. Your allegiance isn't with me, either. You kicked me to the curb without ever looking back or trying to understand why I did what I did. So don't go blaming me for making the very same decision you did. With us, it is and always will be family first. It do
esn't look like anything's going to change that, but I can try to see that you keep your ranch fair and square."

  "Yeah, right. See you in court."

  She watched Brice walk out of the room, then kicked over the chair where he'd been sitting. She eyed both of the upturned chairs. Men! There was never any halfway with them. It was all or nothing, sink or swim, love or hate.

  Well, she wasn't a man, and she did believe there was some middle ground somewhere—namely her. She might be the future head of the Randolphs, but she was married to a McCormack. Sounded like middle ground to her. Or was that more like being in the middle and caught in the crossfire? Either way, she was the common factor in this problem, and perhaps Eulah was, too. There had to be some way to pacify the Randolphs and also let the McCormacks keep the ranch.

  As far as whether she and Brice would ever get back together, she didn't have a clue. She loved him—but was that enough to overcome all their family problems and the issue of trust and loyalty between the two of them?

  * * *

  That afternoon Prudence sat in her office in The First National Bank of Serenity. Her phone was off the hook; one more call about the impending McCormack versus Randolph court case would make her crazy as a woodpecker drumming on a petrified tree.

  She ignored the tax work in front of her and gazed outside, not really seeing anything. Where was Brice right now? What was he doing? Was he feeding the cows that new grain concoction he'd come up with? Did he remember there was leftover fried chicken in the fridge if he got hungry, and his favorite vanilla-bean ice cream in the freezer for dessert?

  "Damnation!" She threw a pencil at her office door and barely missed Sunny Willis as she entered. Prudence heaved a weary sigh. "I'm really sorry about that."

  Sunny closed the door and sat down in one of the maroon leather chairs across from Prudence's desk. "Rumor has it you've had a rough morning. And for once, I'd say rumor was right."