The Wilde Bunch. Barbara Boswell
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mind would want to marry me and move in with the Gang of Four?”
“To think that just last year, you were voted the ‘Most Eligible Bachelor in Bear Creek’ at the hospital auxiliary’s Valentine dance.” The reverend sighed. “Well, I’m disappointed in Jill and Tonya and Marcy, but not surprised. You need a young woman of exceptional depth and commitment and those ladies do not fit the bill. But I know someone who does, Mac.”
“Trying to play matchmaker, Rev?” Mac stared at the older man. “Thanks but no thanks. If I can’t find my own—”
“Mac, sorry to interrupt!” A tall, tough-looking cowboy burst into the room, sounding as agitated as he looked.
Mac felt his stomach lurch. His ranch manager, Webb Asher, was not quick to panic. He never would have come to the house unless it was a genuine emergency. “What is it, Webb?”
“The fencing is down in the north field, Mac. Can’t tell how it happened, but the cattle trampled it and are milling around in the direction of Blood Canyon.”
“Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse!” Mac growled. “We have to repair that fence and start rounding up the cattle immediately.” He glanced at his watch. “And I’m supposed to pick up Autumn at five at the Community Center when her dance class is over.”
“I could ask my daughter Tricia to pick her up and drive her out here to the Double R,” Reverend Will offered. “That is, if you think Autumn will get into the car with Tricia.”
“I don’t know.” Mac started pacing again. “Autumn doesn’t know Tricia very well and she has all these fears.... That kid sees danger lurking everywhere. And I’ve never heard anybody scream louder than she does when she’s upset.”
“That’s the truth!” Webb agreed, injecting himself into the conversation. “First time that kid screamed, I thought a bear grabbed her and was mauling her. But she was screaming ‘cause her brother was throwing water balloons at her and told her they were filled with acid. Kid thought her skin was going to peel off from acid burns.” The ranch manager shrugged quizzically. “Who’d think a little girl would know about stuff like acid burns?”
“Autumn specializes in the grisly and the gruesome,” Mac said glumly. “I think she does research.”
“The child does have a highly imaginative streak,” Reverend Will murmured. “A pity her imagination tends toward the—uh—morbid side.”
Mac paced faster. “How can I be in two places at the same time? Picking up Autumn and working in the north field? Most of the time I feel as if I’m being pulled in five different directions at once, and I see no end in sight.”
“If you had a wife at home, she would be supervising the children,” the pastor pointed out. “She could help cook meals and—”
“Meals! Dinner!” Mac slapped his hand to his forehead and groaned in despair. “Damn, I forgot about dinner.”
“Can’t Lily cook for the younger children?” Reverend Will asked. “I know she’s taking a cooking class at the high school because my Tricia is in it.”
“Your Tricia might cook a meal for her family, but Lily will either set fire to the kitchen or poison the other kids. Deliberately.” Mac sighed. “Mrs. Lattimore makes us casseroles for three dinners on the days she comes in to clean, but the other four days dinner is one of my major headaches.”
“The young lady I have in mind for you loves to cook, Mac,” Reverend Will remarked, his tone purposefully enticing. “She’s great with kids and has always wanted a family of her own. She is currently working in Washington, D.C., and from her letters, I feel certain that she’s ready for a change. We could bring her to Bear Creek and—”
“Like a mail-order bride, sort of thing?” Mac gave a hoot of laughter. “Sounds like the plot of a romance novel, Rev. And I don’t look a bit like that blond-haired guy who’s on all those covers.”
“It’s no worse than advertising in the personal ads, which many people do these days,” the reverend pointed out. “And my plan is certainly a lot better and safer. I can personally vouch for both you and Kara and the two of you can—”
“Hey, Mac, your nephew is driving the Jeep,” Webb exclaimed, dashing toward the front door.
“Brick?” Mac uttered a curse. “He’s supposed to be in school. If he got himself expelled again...”
The three men raced to the front porch.
“Good Lord, it’s little Clay!” gasped Reverend Will.
For one paralyzing moment the three men watched the second-grader behind the wheel.
“Hey, Uncle Mac,” young Clay shouted out the window of the Jeep, which was jouncing around the circular drive. “I got sent home early today ‘cause I’m infected. See how good I can drive!”
“Infected with what?” Webb backed away from Mac.
“I’d heard the elementary school was experiencing an epidemic of chicken pox,” Reverend Will said. “If Clay has it, he’ll miss at least a week of school. My little Joanna missed two weeks when she caught it a few years ago.”
“Good luck working the ranch and taking care of a sick kid, Mac,” Webb said in a better-you-than-me tone of voice.
“A marriage of convenience is starting to look mighty tempting,” Mac uttered. “A sensible arrangement between two adults who know what they want and are beyond confusing fantasy with the realities of everyday life. At least we’d be spared all those falling-in-love delusions that just mess everything up. Rev, get that family-loving girl you know out here as soon as you can. At my expense,” he added, just before making a mad dash toward the Jeep.
* * *
Kara Kirby read the letter over and over, willing the words to change. They didn’t. The message remained the same.
It is with regret I inform you that, as a result of the recent decision to eliminate overstaffing in certain functions performed within the Department of Commerce, your position will be eliminated within thirty days of the date of this letter.
The letter went on, reassuring her that this was not a result of her job performance, which had been consistently excellent, but rather a necessary adjunct to the department’s continuing efforts to reduce expenditures in areas which no longer occupied the same level of priority as they had in the past.
She was out of a job! Thirty days from today, she would be unemployed, her position as a statistician for the Department of Commerce having been eliminated in another round of government budget cuts.
Hot tears filled Kara’s eyes, and she fought the rush of panic that surged through her. She’d held that job for the past five years! Sure, it had been dull at times—well, much of the time—but the pay was decent and she had health benefits and an annual one-week paid vacation. For the past year, she’d been able to pay the rent on her apartment in Virginia, just across the district line, without having to take roommates to split the costs.
Kara enjoyed the privacy but missed the company and the activity provided by other people. She’d always been reserved and introverted, and living with other girls forced her to socialize. But faced with moving in with strangers after her last roommate, a college friend, had married, Kara decided to go it alone. Now she shared her home and her life with her Siamese cat, Tai, who sat on the sofa across the room, watching her with his inscrutable blue eyes.
Three months ago, on her twenty-sixth birthday, Kara had sat in front of her television set with Tai and had taken stock of her life. She was twenty-six years old, living alone with her cat, her small social circle dwindling as old friends married or left the area, moving on with their lives while hers remained static.
Day after day, year after year, the same routine, same job—a comfortable quiet way of life, but one that offered no surprises, no change.