COURT-APPOINTED MARRIAGE Read online

  It was Pru's scent. He'd noticed it enough times, smelling up the courtroom. Sometimes it made his insides clench the way they did when he drank ice water too fast. Sometimes it gave him cravings for vanilla wafers, pound cake, or even a vanilla soda over at Dusty's Malt Shop. Today his stomach flipped, and he had a terrible urge for all three. Hellfire, being cooped up with her was driving him nuts. He had to get out of here fast!

  Prudence watched Brice shove himself out of his chair and walk to the other side of the room. It was actually more of a tramp. He undid the top button of his neat, western-cut, navy shirt and ran his long fingers around the inside of his collar, pulling the material away from his neck. She noticed the skin there was as tanned as his face. It wasn't the deep bronze of late summer but a mere kiss of brown from the sun of early spring. Kiss? She licked her suddenly dry lips and stared at Brice's neck. Where had this kiss stuff come from?

  He flexed his shoulders as if attempting to ease some tension building there. It might have worked for him, but the simple gesture did nothing to ease the tension building in Prudence. This was crazy. Brice was her arch rival, the person who'd made her life miserable for as long as she could remember. He was the person her father had always held up as an example of what she should be. Since her father was the unofficial head of the Randolphs and she his only child, she had to be as good or better than a McCormack ever even thought about being. And that meant better than Brice-the-perfect, son of the unofficial head of the Half-Circle.

  Considering all that, she had never before actually thought of Brice's neck—except maybe in the context of putting a noose around it and pulling tight. She definitely never thought about it in relation to a kiss. She swallowed. It must be their current confined circumstance.

  In court she had no problem ignoring his brown eyes, the tiny scar above his left brow, the way his black hair curled slightly over the back of his collar, his rugged build that was nothing like those of the businessmen she came in contact with. But today he reminded her of the cattle he raised—strong, solid, prime, grade-A beef. Suddenly, she had the urge to sink her teeth into his butt. Damn! She had to get out of this room!

  "Janet Lowry."

  Brice whirled around to face her. "Huh?"

  "Janet Lowry. Librarian. My Uncle Walt's middle child. Completely agreeable to everyone. Would just as soon choke as say an unkind word, even to a McCormack."

  Brice gritted his teeth and pulled in a deep breath, broadening his chest even more. Prudence bit back a carnivorous whine.

  "Blake Edwards," Brice said. "He's my aunt Freda's youngest. Works with Doc at the vet clinic. You can't find a more polite guy."

  Pru nodded and went to retrieve her briefcase from the middle of the room. She tried not to think of Brice's broad chest, tanned neck and delectable backside. It wasn't easy. At least the ordeal of being alone with him was finished. Judge Willis had his two names, and maybe—if miracles still happened—the Randolph-McCormack feud would subside, and she'd never think about Brice McCormack's hair, eyes, neck, chest and butt again.

  * * *

  Three days later, Brice watched Judge Willis pace his chamber, mad as a hungry cow grazing on AstroTurf. He glared at Prudence sitting in one leather chair and Brice occupying the other. "This dad-blasted feud's worse than ever, and you two are to blame."

  "Us?" Prudence said, her voice sounding a bit breathy, making Brice's blood flow a mite faster. "None of this was our idea," she continued. "We didn't cause that altercation over in Springfield. Blake and Janet did. How could the cowboy here—" she nodded at Brice "—and I know the sheriff would have to be called in to break up a Randolph-McCormack food fight?"

  Damn, he didn't need to hear her sexy voice. And why did she have to call him 'cowboy'? It stirred up old memories better forgotten. The first time she'd called him that was after he'd kissed her the second time. They were six, and he was riding in his first rodeo. They'd run into each other in a deserted area behind the grandstand. For some reason he still didn't understand, he'd pulled one of her braids when she walked by, and when she turned around he'd kissed her. She hadn't moved but her eyes were as big as saucers. And when he ran away, she'd called, "Good luck, cowboy."

  Hellfire! He thought being away from her for three days would end this sudden, unexplainable burst of Prudence lust, but today he was lustier than evermore than he'd ever have thought possible—over Prudence Randolph. He had to stop this and concentrate on her as an opposing attorney, who was always snapping at him over something and acting as if it was her God-given right to do so. He'd have to remember her as the thorn-in-his-side Randolph who made his life hell. In fact, she seemed to enjoy making his life more of a hell than she did the life of any other McCormack. If he remembered all that—and not her eyes, her lips, her hair—he'd get over her in no time.

  Judge Willis poked his finger at Pru. "You know you're responsible for the mess in Springfield because you chose Janet." The judge peered at Brice. "And you chose Blake. And neither of you showed up to get their first meeting off to a good start."

  Brice said, "Judge, the spring rains had cows and calves caught in mud holes and—"

  "And," Pru interrupted, "it's tax time, and I had to get extensions on—"

  "Poppycock! You both sabotaged my plan on purpose, thinking I'd change my mind about ending this here feud, didn't you."

  Pru held up her hands as if fending off a charging herd. "Not me, Judge."

  "Don't look my way," Brice said.

  "Well," the judge groused. "We're going to come up with two more candidates, that's all. And this time it's going to damn well work."

  Pru squirmed in her chair, sliding the black skirt of her perfect black suit up her very perfect thighs. She had on black stockings, and for a moment Brice forgot about feuds and judges and could only think about what was bolding those stockings up. Garters? His mouth went bone dry. Pru would look great in a black garter belt and black stockings, especially if that's all she wore.

  He stole another quick look, mostly because he couldn't help himself. Damn, she had long legs, great calves, terrific thighs and … and a tattoo? Brice blinked twice to clear his vision. Yep, it was a tattoo, all right. A rose tattoo peeking out from under the hem of her skirt.

  Damn! He and Pru had to quit meeting in this blasted room. There was something about Willis's chamber that got him paying attention to and thinking about stuff he would be better off completely ignoring. But what man could ignore a rose tattoo, black stockings and a garter belt?

  "Mr. McCormack!" The judge bellowed, making Brice's head snap back. An exasperated expression covered the judge's face. "If you're finished daydreaming about … about…" The judge stopped talking, then looked from Brice to Prudence. Willis's eyes suddenly brightened, and his shoulders relaxed.

  "I'm listening. I'm listening." Brice yanked his thoughts back to the matter at hand. Too bad his body didn't follow. He set his briefcase on his lap, trying to look professional instead of totally turned on. Ending this feud was killing him.

  Brice cleared his throat and said, "Your Honor, maybe you should give this idea of yours a rest. Really consider if there are two people who could make your plan work."

  Out of the corner of his eye, Brice could see Pru nodding. Judge Willis was quiet, studying Brice as if he'd never seen him before. Then the judge looked at Pru the same way. What was going on? Something was up that gave Brice a queasy feeling.

  Finally, Willis said, "You know, maybe you're right."

  "I am?" Brice breathed a huge sigh of relief. Nothing was up, everything was fine. He and Pru would be out of here in no time, and he could get back to branding calves. "We'll think of some other way to end this feud. I was thinking—"

  "Nonsense," said Willis. "We don't need another plan. It's the two people we get together who have to make this plan work. You just chose the wrong people."

  Pru said, "But no McCormack and Randolph can get along."

  The judge stroked his chin again, and a
tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I'm not so sure." The smile grew. "Fact is, this time around I'm doing the choosing. You see, if two people are going to get along, they should be used to each other's ways, used to compromising and not fighting at every turn the way Blake and Janet were. Isn't that right?"

  Brice shrugged in agreement and watched Pru do the same, as she said, "But that's the point—"

  The judge continued as if she hadn't uttered a word. "And these two people should know the value of give and take, how to fight fair, how to choose their words carefully in delicate situations. Correct, Mr. McCormack?"

  Brice nodded, but for some reason the judge's smile was evolving into a grin that made Brice's queasiness return.

  "I think—" the judge faced Prudence "—the two people who are going to initiate an end to the feud should be well-acquainted. That way there'd be no surprises in store, no period of adjustment. They'd know right off the bat what they're getting into. Agreed?"

  Prudence bobbed her head, but there was suspicion in her eyes.

  "And most important," the judge said, his voice rising, "these two people need to know I want this feud to end, and that I always get my way. They need to know I mean business. They must put the welfare of their families before all else, even their own preferences, and it would seem wise to get two people who are leaders in their own families." He looked from Brice to Prudence. "Get my drift?" Then he gave them a big toothy grin.

  "No!" Brice said the word at the same time Prudence shouted it, jumping to her feet. Brice felt a heavy thud beating where his heart should have been. "Pru and I are not the two people needed to get the families together. All we do is argue, incessantly."

  Prudence was hyperventilating. "I … I agree. No one would believe Brice and I are suddenly getting along, that we're suddenly … friends."

  "Oh, not that, not that," the judge said, wagging his head. "I don't think there's much to be gained by you two posing as friends."

  Brice felt as if the entire state of Texas had just been taken off his shoulders. A faint touch of color returned to Pru's pastey-white cheeks.

  "We need something more," the judge continued.

  "More?" Brice braced himself. Pru looked paler than ever.

  "Much more." The judge perched himself on the edge of his desk. "I'm thinking … marriage. It's the very thing needed around here to bring the Randolphs and McCormacks together, literally."

  "Judge—"

  Brice's protest was cut off by a wave of Willis's hand. The judge said, "Both of you are destined to head up your families. You're the logical choices."

  Prudence was opening her mouth but nothing was coming out. She looked like a fish out of water.

  The judge folded his arms and straightened his spine. He beamed. "Congratulations, Prudence and Brice, on your upcoming nuptials."

  * * *

  Chapter 2

  « ^ »

  Prudence felt her jaw drop, her feet go numb and her eyes nearly pop from their sockets. "But … but…" She couldn't think of another word to go with but. Brice looked as if he'd been kicked in the head by his prize bull. The judge looked as if he'd just won the Nobel prize for Peace and was about to deliver his acceptance speech.

  "I'll get the paperwork going now," said Judge Willis, "and you two can get married on Sunday."

  Brice choked. "You want us to marry in three days?"

  The judge nodded. "Yep. Don't want to give your families time to set up a kidnapping or hatch some other scheme that'll waylay this crackerjack idea of mine." The judge stood and looked out the window at the town square striped with daffodils blooming in neat rows and new buds festooning trees older than he was.

  Under the circumstances, Prudence couldn't imagine how Serenity could look so … normal. Nothing was normal, blast it. Everything was haywire.

  The judge continued. "The wedding's got to be big, the reception that way, too. We'll have it at my place—I'll officiate." He looked at Prudence. "An outside ceremony. The missus will be your nonpartisan attendant. Sunny just loves weddings, and besides, she'd do anything to end this feud since she wants me to retire. I sure as blazes can't do that with Serenity divided two ways to Tuesday." Satisfaction shone in his gray eyes. "This will work just dandy. Never knew a Randolph or McCormack that wouldn't show up at one of their own kin's weddings. It'll bring the families together, get 'em all talking."

  "Get 'em all fighting," Brice said. "You can bet on that. It'll be a knock-down-drag-out free-for-all, and your place will be leveled. Do you have disaster insurance? If not, forget this."

  "I'm not forgetting it, and nobody would dare cause a ruckus at my house if they know what's good for 'em." The judge shook his head. "Since neither of you is romantically involved with anyone else—and I'd know 'cause my Sunny keeps up with that sort of thing—this is the perfect solution. You two'll just have to do a bang-up job of convincing the families that you're in love and have kept it secret for as long as you could, but that you just can't hold it in anymore, and nothing can ever break you apart." The judge nodded in satisfaction. "That sounded pretty damn good, if I do say so myself."

  Prudence wrung her hands, mostly to keep from strangling the judge. "Your Honor," she started in as calm a voice as she could muster, "as you very well know, Brice and I can't spend five seconds together without getting into an argument."

  Brice shrugged. "Actually, the record's fifteen seconds, but that still doesn't make much of a case for marriage. Who's going to believe that the two people in this town most hostile toward each other are now in love?"

  Judge Willis waved his hand as if shooing away a gnat. "Tell 'em it was a cover-up. You pretended to argue in public to hide what was really going on between you. You knew the families wouldn't condone it. Now you simply have to make your love known to all because it's gotten bigger than both of you, bigger than both families, bigger than the grand state of Texas."

  "No one's going to buy that hogwash," Brice yelled.

  Judge Willis's eyes narrowed with determination. It was the kind of look he had before he tossed some law-breaking varmint in jail and threw away the key. "Unless you two can come up with an alternative idea to ending this feud, or you don't mind holding all future family reunions in the county lockup, you're getting married in three days and your families are going to believe you are madly in love." He banged his fist against the desk. "This case is closed."

  * * *

  Prudence staggered out of the courthouse, dropped her briefcase on the top step, then plopped herself down beside it. She leaned against one of the big white, fluted columns supporting the gabled roof overhead. Maybe she should have checked her horoscope today. Maybe it read, "In three days you're marrying Brice McCormack. Run for your life!"

  For as long as she could remember, that guy had made her life hell. He may not have been aware of it, but that hadn't altered things one bit. If Brice was editor of the school newspaper, Dad expected her to be editor of the yearbook. If Brice took advanced math, she had to. Brice went to college and was a business major, so she had to do the same. It even followed to law school.

  Randolphs had to keep up with McCormacks, her dad had said, but she always felt as if she fell a bit short. Not that she'd ever admit that to a living soul. In high school she'd prayed Brice would just take one measly course in watercolors, painting or ceramics. She would have settled for a class in clothing and construction. It never happened. Her only consolation was that the high school hadn't allowed girls on the football team, so she'd escaped being a quarterback, running back or some other back. Prayers are answered in mysterious ways.

  She turned around, just as Brice came out of the courthouse. The town clock bonged the five o'clock quitting time. "Okay, cowboy, I—"

  "Pru, if we start arguing now, we'll never figure a way out of this." He didn't look down at her, but studied the street in front of them, busy with afternoon traffic. The splashing fountain in the town square across the way couldn't be heard over the hum
of the cars, but sunlight sparkled off the ripples of water. Prudence heard someone inside the courthouse lock the big wood doors, indicating Serenity's civil servants were through serving for the day and were going home to their suppers, leaving her and Brice alone on the porch to contemplate their fate.

  "I was going to say," she said, "that I think we should stay calm and come up with an alternative to Willis's plan."

  Brice gave her a sidelong glance, and his left eyebrow—the one with the tiny scar—arched in surprise. "Thought you'd be pitching a fit."

  "I never pitch fits. I have … opinions."

  "Amen to that. The one thing I do know for sure, Pru, is that come hell or high water, we're not getting married."

  Considering the circumstances, the fact that he'd called her Pru didn't bother her. "That we agree on. Now we just have to think of a way to end the feud, and we have to do it in less than three days. Got any brilliant ideas?"

  A spring breeze ruffled Brice's black wavy hair. He slid his well-worn Resistol on his head. He'd had that hat for ten years now. He'd gotten it for his twenty-first birthday, Prudence remembered. She could still see him strutting down Main Street

  as if he didn't have a care and owned the whole world.

  But that was a long time ago, before Brice went to law school, before his daddy died and he had to return home before graduating to run the Half-Circle, before that ranch and his family became his life, and way before he faced a shotgun wedding to Prudence Randolph.

  "We could," she offered, "just tell our families what's going on with Willis. We'll tell them that if they don't quit squabbling, the judge will toss the lot of them in jail." She nodded, liking this idea the more she thought about it.

  Brice sat down across from her and leaned against the next column. He stretched out one leg, bent the other at the knee. He slid his hat farther back on his head and looked at her. Tiny creases—the kind people who spend their life in the sun get—fanned out from the corners of his mouth and dark eyes. "You know as well as I do, that won't stop the feuding. The families will just keep at it, and when they get to jail they'll fight more."