by Tina Leonard
She shook her head.
“My guess is at least thirty percent of the nay votes on the petition were coerced.”
The sting and hurt she’d felt at reading some of the names—her friends’ names—on the petition began to melt away. “Why do you say that?”
“It was just something Mr. Chatham said. He’d received a visit from Donovan, as had Monsieur Matchmaker.” Justin went to the door. “All of them received pressure from Donovan.”
“Pressure?”
“You know Donovan owns a lot of this town. That’s his deal, turn it into Donovan, Texas.”
Mackenzie blinked. “How do you find all this out?”
“I talk to people.” Justin grinned. “And I know that running a ranch like this isn’t a game of bean bags. Small towns have their conspiracies and they pick sides. You have most on your side. Donovan has the money.” Justin shrugged. “Money is a powerful tool.”
“What a creep.” She felt sorry for the people he’d leaned on, all in the name of taking over her ranch.
“Yeah, well, don’t let him win. I’ve got my chips on you.”
The back door opened, and Ty strode in.
“I thought I’d find you guys here,” Ty said. “Heard you were back and—” He glanced down at the babies. “Is it my imagination or have they grown since I saw them last?”
“What’s up, matchmaker?” Justin demanded.
“Matchmaker?” Ty looked confused until he saw Justin glance at Mackenzie. “Oh. I wasn’t really playing matchmaker. Mackenzie needed help out here—you needed a job. I don’t mess with Cosette’s deal. That’s bad juju.”
“Sure,” Justin said. “Why are you here?”
Ty glanced around the kitchen, and Mackenzie thought he looked a little wild-eyed, even for Ty. “I just heard in town that Cosette and her husband are getting a divorce!”
Mackenzie’s jaw dropped. “That’s not possible. You heard wrong. That’s a mean rumor.”
Ty sank onto a stool, dejected. “It’s true. They’re having financial problems. Donovan leaned on Philippe. Apparently Cosette didn’t know that Philippe had gotten a lien on the store that he owns. It’s bad, man.” He looked at Justin desperately. “Without Madame Matchmaker and Monsieur Unmatchmaker, this town loses a lot of its magic. You may not believe in superstition, you can laugh all you like at our traditions and Jane’s fortune-telling skills and Cosette’s matchmaking games, but here we believe in stuff.” His voice dropped, and Mackenzie could tell confident Ty was truly shaken. “This town runs on the power of positive thinking, man. You gotta do something!”
“I’ve got to do something?” Justin asked. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Help me think, for God’s sake.” Ty ran a hand through his short, bristly hair. “We have to put the magic back in BC or it’s all over. No one comes to just another small town, a dot on the map, where there isn’t any belief, wonder and magic.”
Mackenzie patted Ty’s shoulder, cut him a slice of pie and poured him some tea. “Poor Cosette. This is awful. For Philippe, too.” She felt terrible.
“Hard times hit us all,” Ty said, more low than she’d ever seen him.
“Are you sure they’re filing?” Mackenzie asked, hoping this was just an overblown bit of gossip. Justin’s gaze landed on her, and she saw that he looked as concerned as Ty.
“I got it from the courthouse. And then Jane Chatham. Not to mention Daisy.” He practically growled the name. “Robert Donovan is going to buy up every inch of retail in our town. I hear he’s planning on pressuring the planning and zoning committee to redraw the town square. And when that happens, we’re lost. He’ll open bars and God knows what else. We’ll be nothing but commercial,” he said, alarmed.
“Take a deep breath. Eat your pie,” Justin said. “Let us think.”
“I feel awful for Cosette. And Philippe. It makes so much more sense that he signed Daisy’s petition.”
“And that’s another thing.” Ty waved his fork. “There’s going to be no haunted house this year.”
“What?” Mackenzie felt comforted when Justin put a hand over hers for a brief moment. “Why?”
“Apparently you have to have all kinds of new licenses for that. Everything you can imagine. Donovan’s got this all figured out. He’s prepared to tie up every single permit and license until the day the dinosaurs return. Lawyered up like mad.”
Mackenzie shook her head. “He can’t do that. One man can’t ruin everyone’s business.”
“Donovan can. He just signed a major deal with a big chain of bars and liquor stores to bring their business here. You can bet there’ll be strip clubs and—”
“Stop,” Mackenzie said. “You’re going to make yourself ill.” She felt sick herself. “What can we do?”
“What can we do?” Ty asked rhetorically. “It’s David against Goliath.” He shook his head sadly. “When word gets out about all this, there really will be no magic left in Bridesmaids Creek, our little town that was built on fairy tales and wedding vows.” He sighed deeply and hung his head. “It’s going to take a miracle to keep our town from becoming a blot on the map instead of the shining star that it is.”
Justin slid his arm around her shoulders and thumped Ty on the back in commiseration. Magic and wonder, belief and superstition wouldn’t last long in a town that would be overrun by commercialism in the not too distant future. Mackenzie left Justin’s side and went to pick up Hope, who’d begun thrashing and letting out little cries, no doubt disturbed by Uncle Ty’s dire tone. Justin picked up Haven, and Ty sighed as he got up to retrieve Heather. “Sorry, baby doll—you drew short straw,” he told Holly, but Justin reached in and scooped her up, too. Ty muttered, “Oh, so that’s how it’s done,” and rain started to fall outside, first a slight pitter-patter, then a full-blown rainstorm. Mackenzie told herself that rain brought beneficial gifts.
The thought raised her spirits.
“I’m going to kill him,” Ty muttered with dark determination. “Donovan must die.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Whoa, buddy,” Justin said. “It’s not that bad. No one needs to die.”
“I meant of natural causes,” Ty said. “Soon.”
“That’s not the answer.” Mackenzie looked at Justin, and he felt his heart pound. This was why he’d come back—Mackenzie and her daughters. “The answer is finding a way to beat the Donovans fair and square.”
Spoken like the resilient fighter she was. Mackenzie had no idea what she was up against. But this was a woman who’d had four children with barely a complaint—he couldn’t remember ever hearing her down and out about anything. She just kept rising to meet each challenge.
“Yeah, well, I came back here to win,” Ty said. “I brought you here to help, not weenie out,” he said to Justin. “You’re a rebel, right? So get to rebelling here like you did on the rodeo circuit. By the way, how’s the knee?”
Justin sank down on a stool. Mackenzie took the one next to him, cooing to the baby she held but still managing to press against his side, bulwarking him against Ty’s idiocy.
It felt great.
“I saw the ortho guy while I was gone. The knee is good as new, for a twenty-seven-year-old rodeo rider, anyway.”
“Well, I’d applaud and be happy that you can ride again, but you’re not leaving here, and I’m not hitting the road to hunt up recruits. We’re staying right here and helping Mackenzie and Suz beat the Donovans like a drum.” Ty stabbed the counter with his finger, emphasizing his point.
“Ty, what exactly do you want Justin to do? How is he supposed to rebel? He’s not from here,” Mackenzie pointed out.
“Fair point. But sometimes an outsider’s perspective is very helpful. Then again, Justin could become one of us,” Ty said.
“And how wou
ld I do that?” Justin asked, instantly realizing he’d played right into Ty’s harebrained game.
“Well, you’d marr—”
“No, he wouldn’t.” Mackenzie glared at Ty. “Look. I know about the matchmaking ad, Ty. And I know why you really sent Justin out here to help me. You claimed I needed help on the ranch, but you really wanted him to help me to the altar. Ty,” she said, and Justin could practically feel her annoyance, “I’ve known you all my life, and I know your heart is in the right place, but please butt out.”
Justin had gone still when he’d realized Ty’s best suggestion was that he marry Mackenzie—but he was even more stunned that the idea didn’t sound as ridiculous as it should. Shouldn’t he be yelling at Ty, telling him marriage was the last thing he wanted?
Except it wasn’t.
On the other hand, Mackenzie didn’t sound all that warm to the idea—and who could blame her? Her ex had just tried to sue her for her ranch.
“Justin?” Ty said. “You’ve gotten awfully quiet over there.”
Mackenzie didn’t want to marry him. He could tell by the way she’d said it. Why did that feel like it cut him off somewhere around the knees?
Justin got up. “I’m fine,” he said. He laid the babies gently back in the playpen, nodded to Mackenzie and Ty. “We’ll get it figured out,” he said. “I’ll be back at work tomorrow,” he told Mackenzie, and then he headed to the bunkhouse.
* * *
JUSTIN REGRETTED RETURNING to the bunkhouse as soon as he opened the door. Frog, Sam and Squint were sitting around with several women, and one of those women was Suz, who sat in Squint’s lap.
Which was all wrong on every level, because he knew darn well that if Suz had a thing going for anyone, it was the cowboy she called Rodriguez. He counted nine women and some men he didn’t know. The fact that there were various stages of dress in the room indicated some kind of strip game was going on.
He reminded himself that Suz was very young—twenty-three—and she’d just gotten back from a Peace Corps tour in Africa, and he’d been a helluva lot wilder than she was when he was her age. “What the hell?” he demanded, his question directed to his three bunkmates.
“Join us,” Sam said, and Justin shook his head.
“I don’t think so.” He looked at Suz. “What are you trying to do, kill these guys?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t put this party together. I’m just livening it up.”
At least she was fully dressed or he would have had to mess up his bunkmates big-time for stepping over the line with the boss’s little sister. By the clearness of her eyes and the fact that her glass of wine had barely been touched, he figured Suz was a latecomer to the party. “All right, everybody out.”
“Hey,” Frog said, “we’re developing our community relations.”
“You dork.” Justin jerked a thumb at the door. “Everybody out. If we want to get to know you, we’ll do it with our clothes on.”
The room vacated with no small amount of grumbling. When it was just his bunkmates and Suz left, Justin said, “We’re going to plan how to help Mackenzie. You guys are not going to go rogue by making a play for the female population. And you are not going to encourage them in any of their hijinks,” he said to Suz, “because your sister is up to her ass in alligators.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n sir,” Suz shot back. “I was over here keeping these guys in line, by the way, not encouraging them.”
She’d been keeping a careful eye on Rodriguez, if he had to bet. But whatever story she wanted to tell, Suz wasn’t his problem. “Here’s what I’m suggesting. This Best Man’s Fork dog-and-pony show is something we need victims—I mean, participants—for. So you three are going to run with me.” He waved at the three bunkmates who had become his brotherhood, not unlike his rodeo brotherhood, except maybe a little less focused. A little less sane. He took a deep breath. “The four of us are going to do this.”
Frog pulled his black T-shirt on. Justin figured he’d gotten there just in time, before more clothes were shed. Squint was only missing a belt, and Sam was missing his hat as he lounged in his chair like he’d been about to throw down a winning hand.
“You can’t win,” Sam said. “You have a gimp knee.” He held up a hand as Justin was about to debate the point. “Speak whatever baloney you wish, and I heard all about you seeing your doc at home. Supposedly.” Sam grimaced. “You didn’t see a doctor because there wasn’t time, and your knee isn’t good enough for you to win. You know Daisy’s going to put her band of rowdies up against you. You need us,” he said, pointing to Frog and Squint, “to weight this in your favor.”
Suz stared at him, her eyes huge. “Tag team? Relay? How are you going to do this if you can’t run? The town blue hairs have their rules, and they’re pretty tight.”
Justin sat down and grabbed their cards to lay out a fork shape on the table. “Your sister will be here,” he said, pointing to the ace of hearts.
“Daisy, you mean,” Suz said.
“We’re going to do this fun run a little differently. Mackenzie will be here, and Daisy will be here.” He put the ace of clubs to indicate Daisy on the other fork. “The four of us will be here.” He laid the four jacks at the beginning of the fork in the road.
Suz glanced at Rodriguez, clearly weighing whether she wanted him running this race, where he might end up in Daisy’s arms. Justin frowned.
“Explain this Best Man’s Fork thing to me,” he said. “I may not have the full significance.”
“It’s all about marriage,” Suz said. “Every man who’s made the run and chosen the proper path that leads to the woman has ended up married to her within thirty days.”
“That’s not possible,” Justin said. The other three men stared at Suz, clearly calculating if making this run could be detrimental to their bachelorhood.
“It’s a matter of town record. Go ask Jane Chatham for the book,” Suz said. “She keeps a ledger of the date of each event in this town and what weddings may result from said event. She also keeps dates of divorces, in the back of the book, in order to discover if marriages stick or fail after BC’s illustrious events.”
“And?” Justin demanded, curious. Maybe he didn’t want to get involved in something that had a high fail rate.
Suz smiled. “Scared?”
This woman very well could end up being his sister-in-law one day. Justin sighed, raising a hand at her teasing giggle. “Not scared. Looking to be informed. Information is power.”
“Two percent.”
Justin leaned back. “Two percent of these wedded couples didn’t work out.”
“Exactly. My sister. It is what it is.” Suz shrugged. “They shouldn’t have gotten married in the first place.”
“Why?” Sam asked. “They had kids.”
“Yeah, but Mackenzie was never in love with Tommy.” She swept the fork of cards off the table, then shuffled the deck. “Tommy just wanted to marry the town’s favorite daughter. Then he spooked because of the babies. No Best Man’s Fork, no Bridesmaids Creek swim, can predict whether a man has a chicken side or not.”
Justin frowned. Personally he thought the little girls were a huge bonus in his life. He loved those babies. When he’d been in Whitefish, he couldn’t wait to get back to them and Mackenzie.
If this was the way things were done in Bridesmaids Creek, then he planned to win. “I don’t have a chicken side.”
“That I believe.” Suz grinned at him. “It remains to be seen how fast you are. I can tell you right now that Daisy’s going to be ticked when she finds out you’ve rigged the game with a fifty-fifty chance by putting Mackenzie in the other fork. Expect a formal protest. However, I’m willing to help you any way I can. Inside the rules, of course.”
“Let me get this straight,” Squint said. “I don’t know why Daisy’s usin
g you for this event, because quite frankly, I’d be a more exciting candidate.” He glared at Justin. “But if you’re planning to secretly put Mackenzie on the other side of the game, I’d carry you on my back to get you over the finish line.”
“I can run,” Justin said. “Don’t worry about me.”
Sam looked at him doubtfully. “I guess we could make one of those chariot things. Like a litter or one of those Iditarod thingamabobs with the mush dogs.” He grinned at Justin. “We’d drag you up to the finish line in record time.”
“Or,” Frog said with great bravado, “we’ll run the race to the finish line just to secure the win, then double back and get Justin.”
Justin laughed. “Double back and get me?”
“We won’t let you down, bud,” Frog said earnestly. “We won’t let anyone else get your girl.”
“Get my girl?” Justin’s brow wrinkled. “That’s not what this is all about. I’m trying to support Mackenzie. And Suz and the Hanging H. Bridesmaids Creek, in general.” He raised a brow at Suz’s giggle. “I’m protecting her against the Donovans.”
“And what if you win the race and Mackenzie is in the fork you choose? Are you prepared for what happens in thirty days or less?” She gave him a Suz smirk. “I should warn you that some of the participants just went ahead and eloped that very night, as soon as the race was completed.”
“Whoa,” Frog said. “Maybe I don’t want to run. What if I win Mackenzie?”
“No, no, no,” Justin said. “We’re a team. My team. You guys are just backup. You’re just—”
“We’re the guarantee,” Sam said. “We get it. We just want to make sure you’re not going to make us do the deed, too.”
“What if I—we, the three of us—” Frog pointed to his buddies “—what if we choose the wrong fork?” His brows rose. “Daisy’s fork?”
“That’s just not going to happen,” Justin said. “I have a sixth sense about these things.”
“No, you don’t,” Suz said. “Even I know you don’t believe in those things. You’ve said so a hundred times. In fact, this whole race, the only reason you’re participating in it is that you believe it’s a bunch of hokum.”