Wilde Bunch

by Barbara Boswell

  He was so offhand, so sure of her. Kara was seized by an impulse to shake him out of his complacency. “That is patently untrue. There are times when a woman has no choice but to keep her love a secret.” His smug grin of disbelief egged her on. “For example, I wouldn’t have told Uncle Will a thing if...if the man I love happened to be married!”

  She clasped her hand over her mouth, horrified by her brash outburst. She would never become involved with a married man, not even hypothetically! Flushed with shame and unable to even look at Mac, Kara pulled away from him and rushed into the kitchen where Autumn, Brick and Clay were feasting on the dinner provided by the Franklins.

  “Do you mind if I join you?” she asked, casting a quick look at the swinging door. Mac had not followed her. She was both relieved and disappointed.

  Kara sank onto the bench behind the table.

  Brick slid the plate of chicken her way. “It’s not as good as KFC, but it’s not bad. And it sure beats Mrs. Lattimore’s moose meat casseroles.”

  “That was moose meat?” Kara felt queasy as she recalled the heaping portion she’d eaten last night.

  The kids laughed merrily at her discomfiture.

  “It might’ve been elk,” Clay informed her gleefully. “Or rattlesnake or bear.”

  “Maybe Mrs. Lattimore is a secret cannibal.” Brick nudged Autumn. “Guess what kind of meat she’d use then?”

  “There are cannibals in prison,” Autumn announced seriously. “They look just like regular people—but they’re not. They like to eat regular people.”

  Tai meowed a greeting from atop the elk head where he was tearing apart a large piece of chicken. Autumn launched into a long and nauseating tale of imprisoned cannibals, a topic she’d seen discussed on one of the many true crime shows she watched incessantly on TV. Brick and Clay got into an argument about video games, tossing around unfamiliar terms like Game Genies and warp zones.

  Kara fixed a plate of food for herself, benignly ignoring her dinner companions who finally settled down to eat with her.

  In the living room, Mac stared into the vacant eyes of the moose above the mantle, pondering Kara’s abrupt exit.

  “I don’t know whether to congratulate you or feel sorry for you, Uncle Mac.” Lily’s voice sounded from across the room. “If you were trying to insult Kara and drive her away, congratulations, you did well. But if you were trying to lure her into marrying you or even into your bed, wow, you blew it!”

  Mac whirled to see his niece curled up on the sofa, daintily nibbling on a fried chicken leg. “When did you come in?”

  “I was here when you came in with Kara,” Lily said blithely. “You didn’t see me, of course. You were too busy putting your great big foot into your mouth.” She rolled her eyes. “I’d heard that before the four of us arrived on the scene, you were the most popular bachelor in Bear Creek, with loads of single women chasing after you. But after observing your technique, all I can say is that the single women of Bear Creek are either desperate, or totally uncool. Maybe both?”

  “You shouldn’t eavesdrop on private conversations,” Mac snapped.

  “Sorry.” Lily’s apology contained not a shred of remorse. “But what were you trying to do, Uncle Mac? Have you changed your mind since last night about marrying Kara? Are you trying to send her back East as fast as you can?”

  “You weren’t eavesdropping very carefully, were you? I have not changed my mind about marrying Kara as soon as possible. Of course I’m not trying to send her away!”

  “No? Well, you sure could’ve fooled me!” Lily gave a dramatic shake of her long, dark hair and took a fierce chomp of the chicken leg. “I bet Kara doesn’t know where she stands, either. Men!”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” demanded Mac.

  Lily stood and stalked dramatically toward the swinging door to the kitchen. “It means men don’t say what they mean or mean what they say.”

  “And women do?”

  “We would if men didn’t force us into playing games and telling lies. But you do, so we have to counter every move with one of our own.”

  “Like Kara saying she was in love with a married man? I don’t believe that for a minute.” Mac frowned. “Do you?”

  “Uncle Mac, the point is that you forced her into saying it because you said she’d better take you up on your offer because she’s desperate and has no other prospects. What woman could listen to such an insult without at least trying to salvage some pride?”

  “I didn’t mean it the way you said.” Mac was indignant. “I didn’t say it that way, either.”

  “Well, that’s what I heard. That’s what Kara heard. Naturally she couldn’t let it pass. Women say and do what we have to when it comes to outmaneuvering men.”

  “Is that so?”

  There was an edge in Lily’s tone that Mac found disturbing. He looked at his niece, his gaze assessing. Lily was staring into space, her dark eyes glittering, her expression sultry and calculating and utterly adult. With her beauty and smoldering sexuality, she appeared every inch the woman who could outmaneuver whatever man she happened to choose as her target.

  Mac swallowed. “Lily, what’s going on with you?”

  Lily merely laughed. “Uncle Mac, I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

  “Honey, I’m worried about you.”

  “Well, don’t be. I know what I’m doing.” Lily pushed open the door and strolled into the kitchen. “I think,” she muttered under her breath.

  Mac, following close behind her, felt a wave of foreboding and stress crash over him.

  He stepped into the kitchen just in time to see Clay plunge his hands into the lime Jell-O ring, scoop it up and hurl both fistfuls at Brick. The seven-year-old’s aim was right on target. Brick’s hair and face were covered with gobs of glutinous green.

  “Clay, cut it out!” Mac roared as Clay reached for some more ammunition. “Brick, don’t you dare!” Brick had his left hand in the dish of coleslaw, ready to counterattack. “No food fights! I will not tolerate that kind of—”

  “Help!” shrieked Clay as Mac strode toward the table, looking like a towering, thundering god of war. The little boy jumped onto Kara’s lap and clutched her tightly, hiding his face against her breast. “Don’t let him hit me, Aunt Kara!”

  Kara, who had watched the food ambush in amazement, was further astonished by her unexpected elevation to kin status. Aunt Kara? She gazed down at the child’s head, his dark hair soft and tousled. Clay was warm and small and holding on to her as if she were a life preserver in a storm-tossed sea. Instinctively, her arms closed around him.

  Laughing and dripping Jell-O, Brick walked over to the sink and submerged his head under the faucet to wash the stuff off.

  Mac stood above Kara, glaring down at Clay who kept his face hidden. “Clay Wilde, I want to have a word with you.” He grasped Clay’s arm.

  “He’s gonna hit me!” bellowed Clay.

  “Mac, no!” Kara quickly turned aside, her grip on the child turning steely. “Calm down! Clay was just—just—” She paused, somewhat at a loss. He was just throwing food at his brother at the dinner table? It didn’t seem like a very sound defense. But Clay was clinging to her, he needed her. He was so little and Mac was so big.

  “No?” Mac roared. “Dammit, I will not be manipulated this way! If there is one thing we’re going to get straight, it’s—”

  “Hey, chill, Uncle Mac,” Brick chortled. “Here, I’ll help you.” Grabbing the spray hose from the sink, the boy aimed it at his uncle, blasting him with cold water.

  For a few seconds, Mac stood in place, so caught off guard by the attack he didn’t even attempt to dodge the watery stream. And that was long enough for him to be thoroughly soaked by the steady flow of water. Long enough for Brick to drop the nozzle and dash from the kitchen.

  The hose twitched and bounced, spraying water everywhere.

  Mac recovered and sprang into action. “Brick!” He tore out of the kitchen after
his nephew. A door slammed hard, instantly followed by Mac’s furious pounding. “Open this door!” he ordered. “Brick, open up right now!”

  “Sounds like Brick made it safely to his room,” Lily remarked, sauntering to the sink to turn off the water.

  “If you don’t open the door, I swear I’ll kick it in!” shouted Mac.

  Autumn, who had been sitting on the bench beside Kara, suddenly let out a piercing scream. “Uncle Mac is going berserk!”

  Kara could only imagine how those TV tabloid shows Autumn watched had depicted “going berserk.” Plenty of gore, certainly. Terror and horror, a given.

  “Autumn, your uncle is not going berserk,” Kara firmly assured her. “He’s angry but he—”

  Autumn let out another scream, this one so loud that Kara’s eardrums throbbed. One more scream like that, and they would all be in danger of permanent hearing loss.

  Kara rose to her feet, settling Clay onto the bench beside his sister. “Autumn, no more screaming. And Clay, keep your hands out of that Jell-O. I’m going to talk to your uncle Mac, right now.”

  “Uncle Mac’s in trouble,” Clay chanted in a singsong voice. The prospect seemed to delight him.

  “Aren’t you glad you decided to take a walk on the Wilde side, Kara?” Lily was grinning. “Calling this family dysfunctional is paying us a compliment.”

  “You’re not dysfunctional, you’re all just...very emotional and expressive,” Kara countered bravely. She kept telling herself that as she walked to the door of Brick’s room, which Mac was still pounding on while alternately threatening to break it down.

  “Mac.” She laid her hand on his arm. “Mac, you’re all wet. Why don’t you change into some dry clothes and then have some dinner?”

  Her calm quiet tone was in blatant contrast to his infuriated tirade. She tightened her fingers on his arm. “If you keep yelling, Autumn is going to keep screaming. She thinks you’ve gone berserk, and heaven only knows what that means to her.... Maybe that you’ll mount her head on the wall next to the elk’s?”

  There was a shout of laughter from behind Brick’s door.

  Mac heaved a long sigh and leaned against the wall. “That’s not the least bit funny,” he growled.

  At least he’d stopped yelling and pounding. And there were no more high-decibel screams coming from the kitchen, either. Kara felt a giddy surge of relief.

  “You think I’m being unreasonable?” Mac glowered at her, and Kara’s apprehension level rose again. Was he going to transfer his fury to her? “You think I don’t have a right to be upset when those little monsters throw food and—”

  “They’re not monsters.” Kara steeled herself against his anger. “They are high-spirited boys. Didn’t you and your brothers ever do anything...” She paused. “Uh, high-spirited when you were kids?”

  “Sure. Of course. We even had a few food fights in our day. But we didn’t grab a hose and drench our mother when she told us to stop. I have every right to expect—”

  “My mother wasn’t the type to laugh off a little water play, either,” Kara cut in. “I distinctly remember her confiscating the squirt gun I’d saved my allowance to buy, after I squirted it in the house. She threw it in the trash. I was quite bereft because I was left with no money and no weapon.”

  Mac fought a smile. If she was trying to jolly him out of his fury, he would not succumb. He refused to be charmed!

  “Well, rightly so. Spraying water all over the house is anarchy,” Mac stated loftily. “Though I don’t really remember, my mother probably disposed of our water guns, too, a move I applaud. And I demand—”

  “I wouldn’t have squirted my mother, Uncle Mac,” Brick called through the door. He was obviously listening to every word from his position of safety. “But you aren’t my mom. You’re my uncle who is cool and likes joking around and who squirted me with that same hose in the summer when I complained about being hot. ‘Cool it, Brick,’ you said and then you squirted me. I was soaking wet and you laughed your head off, remember, Uncle Mac? We all laughed.”

  Mac’s face reddened. “That was different,” he muttered.

  “How?” Kara’s lips twitched. “It seems to me that water fights are either allowed in the house or they’re banned—for everybody.”

  “It seems that way to me, too.” Brick’s voice sounded through the door.

  Mac ran his hand through his wet hair. “Okay.” He gritted his teeth. “From now on, water fights are forever banned in this house, and that ban extends to everyone. Anyone who violates that rule will—”

  “Get his head mounted on the wall?” Brick suggested, coming out of his room. “What about food fights? Are they banned, too?”

  “Yes,” Kara said decisively. “And I think we’d better inform Clay about the new house rules, right now.”

  “Autumn, too. You didn’t see her give Clay a dollar to throw that Jell-O at me,” Brick added, flashing Kara a grin.

  Mac uttered a strangled sound and stalked into the kitchen. “No more throwing food,” he ordered sternly, glaring at Clay. “No more paying someone to throw food, either.” This to Autumn. He glanced at the pools of water on the floor and the counters. “Lily, get a mop and clean up this mess.”

  “In your dreams.” Lily tossed her long dark hair. “Brick did it, he can clean it up.”

  “Mac, you could catch cold in those wet clothes,” Kara intervened hastily. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of things here in the kitchen. You go change into some dry clothes.”

  “Achoo!” Brick faked a sneeze. “Poor Uncle Mac might catch the sniffles in those nasty wet clothes.”

  Kara tensed. That kid just didn’t know when to quit. She quickly stepped in front of Mac, hoping to avert another clash. She placed her hands on his chest to keep him in place, though she half expected him to toss her aside and take off after Brick again.

  But he didn’t. He placed his hands over hers and pressed them against his wet shirt. She felt his damp body heat under her fingers.

  Mac gazed down at her, and his eyes held hers. “Contrary to what you might think, I’m not a tyrannical ogre who goes around hitting kids. I’ve never laid a hand on any of them. Though I sometimes think a couple of swats on the behind wouldn’t hurt either of the boys.”

  Kara thought of the way Clay had jumped onto her lap, clinging to her for protection. “Don’t let him hit me, Aunt Kara!” Even the memory of that scared little voice roused her protective instincts. “Maybe your brother James hit them when he got angry,” she murmured, horrified at the thought.

  “Or maybe Clay knows exactly what to do to activate your protective maternal instincts,” Mac suggested.

  “That is a very cynical thing to say, Mac Wilde. Clay is just a little boy, only seven years old.” She tried to pull her hands away.

  Mac’s fingers tightened around hers. “You like the kids, don’t you?” He watched her thoughtfully. “You care what happens to them.”

  “Well, of course.” His stare was intent, drawing her into him, until she felt lost in his deep dark eyes. She could hardly think, she was beginning to have trouble remembering to breathe. “I mean, they’re just kids and they’ve been through a lot and—”

  “I won’t throw food anymore,” Clay announced, wiggling his way to stand between Kara and Mac. Kara was grateful to him for breaking the spell Mac seemed to have cast on her.

  The little boy linked one arm around Kara, the other around Mac. “When can we get my puppy? Aunt Kara said we could get a puppy ‘cause we need a pet,” he explained to his uncle.

  “Oh, we definitely need a pet around here,” Mac said dryly. “What about a wolf cub or a baby grizzly bear? They’d fit right in.”

  “We’re not kidding, Uncle Mac,” reproved Autumn. “We really are getting a puppy. Aunt Kara promised.”

  “Well, since she’s the one who’s going to be around to house-train it and do all those other things a puppy requires, it’s okay by me,” Mac said lightly. He arched his brows an
d returned Kara’s startled glance with a challenging one of his own.

  Try and get out of it, his dark eyes seemed to say. Go on and tell the kids that they can’t have a puppy because you won’t be here to take care of it—or them.

  Kara opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t say the words. Not with little Clay snuggling against her, not with the three older kids watching her and Mac standing so closely together.

  “I feel like I’m living in a TV sitcom,” Lily remarked, glancing around the kitchen. “The crisis is resolved at the end of the episode, everybody is smiling at everybody else. Our theme song plays. Fade to close.”

  “I like shows like that,” Autumn sighed.

  “Well, I think we’re more Tales from the Crypt than Full House,” countered Brick, but he was clearly joking and everybody laughed, including Mac.

  Kara felt a surge of warmth flow softly through her. Jokes aside, there really was a family feeling in this room right now, a sense of unity and belonging that she had always longed for but had never been able to achieve. Certainly not as a child, after her beloved stepfather, Will Franklin, had been replaced by her mother’s new husband, Drew Ansell. Drew and her mother adored each other, claiming theirs was a magical love of a lifetime, and perhaps it was, but there wasn’t much room for a daughter from a previous marriage in such a tight coupling.

  Though Drew had never been overtly unkind to her, Kara had always felt in the way, an intruder in their home. She remembered how gladly Drew paid her bills for summer camp, providing it was one that was hundreds of miles away and not the local day camp. “Why not visit Uncle Will in Montana? I’ll be happy to pay your way out there and you can stay as long as you like.” Drew made the same offer every holiday, every summer, until she was grown and on her own. His offer always had to be refused because Kara knew she was as unwanted in Ginny Franklin’s home as she was in Drew Ansell’s.

  But now, here with the Wildes, a group of similarly displaced misfits, Kara felt the warmth of kinship. Of need. They needed her here; the events of the day proved it. She’d made a difference here today. For the first time in her memory her presence had made a difference to someone. For the first time ever, she had been needed.