The Family Feud: The Family Feud / Stop The Wedding?!. Carol Finch
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morning. She looked like hell, by the way. I tried to talk to her, but she stormed out the door and told me she’s going to see that country bumpkin rancher she was dating when I—”
“When you beat his time?” Morgan supplied helpfully.
The suave, Nordic-godlike lawyer winced. “Well, I wouldn’t put it that way. But the point is Kendra went running to Evan Gray to punish me for something that didn’t mean a thing.”
Jan wanted to wallop Richard upside the head. “You could’ve talked all day without saying that,” she snapped.
“Well, it didn’t mean anything. I went a little crazy is all.”
“Easy for you to say after a reckless tumble in the hay,” Jan said through her teeth. “I wouldn’t be surprised to hear it wasn’t the first time.”
Richard had the decency—though not a lot of it, mind you—to blush sheepishly. “It’s Kendra I love and want to marry. That was just sex—”
When Jan pounced Morgan roped his arm around her waist and held her back. Damn if he didn’t admire her killer instinct. She went straight for the jugular. “You can’t kill him,” Morgan cautioned.
“Why not? He deserves to die!” Jan sputtered in outrage. She squirmed for release, but Morgan refused to let her go.
When Jan hissed and spat like an angry cat, Richard took a wary step backward. “Look, I know I made a mistake.”
“What? Getting caught in bed with your secretary? You can say that again, Richie,” Jan seethed. “Because of you, my sister was deathly ill all night. She’s been humiliated, and you want me to intercept her and talk to her before she falls into that ‘country bumpkin rancher’s’ clutches?”
“Well, yeah, I do,” Richard said, undaunted.
“So, it’s okay for you to have a premarital fling to sow your wild oats, but not Kendra?” Jan demanded hotly.
“Well, she’s a woman. Women aren’t supposed to—”
“Argh!” Jan, seeing red, launched herself forward, itching to claw out the man’s eyes, pickle them and hand them back to him in a hermetically sealed jar. Unfortunately, Morgan’s arms tightened around her like vise grips, leaving her clawing air.
“Richard, ol’ pal,” Morgan said calmly. “I advise you to skedaddle before I turn this little wildcat loose. As you can plainly see, she’s in attack mode, she’s got attitude and she’s ferociously protective of her family.”
“Just track down Kendra, okay?” Richard pleaded and retreated. “Make her talk to me so we can work this out, okay? Please? I love her.”
“You sure have a strange way of showing it,” Jan snarled. “Words are cheap and you betrayed her trust in the worst possible way. If you were my fiancé I’d have you castrated so you couldn’t cheat again—ever!”
She could feel Morgan’s massive body shaking in silent amusement, but still he wouldn’t release her. If he’d been there all through the night, while Jan listened to Kendra wretch, sob and wail, he wouldn’t think this was so damn funny.
Morgan didn’t set Jan on her feet until Richard scuttled through the door. Huffily, she rearranged her shirt that had twisted sideways while she squirmed and wriggled for release.
“That went well, didn’t it?” Morgan commented, swallowing a grin.
Jan skewered him with a glare. “You should’ve let me kill him.”
Morgan cupped her chin in his hand and stared into her bloodshot eyes. “How much sleep did you get last night?”
“Very damn little,” she muttered sourly.
“Breakfast?” he inquired.
“Two cups of coffee.”
Morgan nodded in pretended thoughtfulness. “I still don’t think we could’ve gotten you off a murder rap by pleading temporary insanity. Duress, insomnia, lack of nutrition and excessive caffeine probably wouldn’t hold up in court.”
Jan raked her hair from her face, sighed heavily and told herself to calm down. Morgan was right. She was weary and wired and just plain furious with Richard. Even so, she had to find Kendra before she repeated last night’s idiocy and rebounded to her former boyfriend—who, by the way, wasn’t a country bumpkin, not in Jan’s book, leastwise. Evan Gray might’ve been too old for Kendra and not nearly as handsome and sophisticated as Richard, but he’d been good to Kendra.
“May I borrow your truck to track down Kendra?” Jan asked. “I’d ask Dad, but he won’t talk to me unless I go through you.”
Morgan turned her around and guided her down the aisle. “We’ll both go. Your dad can mind the store.”
“No.” Jan put on the brakes, but Morgan uprooted her without breaking stride. “Really, Morgan, I can handle this. It’s my problem.”
“I told you last night that I’m making the Mitchells a study in family concept and interactions.”
“I don’t know why,” she mumbled as he swept her alongside him. “We’ve turned dysfunctional.”
“Regardless, I’m going along for the ride. It’s my pickup, after all. I don’t want you to run down Richard with it.” Morgan waved his arm to nab John’s attention. “I’ll be back before you leave for lunch.”
“You’re taking Janna with you? Good.” John smiled devilishly. “After lunch I’m going to test drive that flashy sports car I’ve had my eye on.”
Jan groaned. “Dad—”
“Clam up,” Morgan cut in. “He’s only baiting you so you’ll go running to Sylvia to tattle. Then she’ll be upset and the feud will fester.”
Jan swore she was near tears by the time she reached the pickup. Frustration was building inside her like molten lava, threatening to blow sky high. She needed a nutritious meal, a good night’s sleep…and a family that didn’t drive her nuts! If she had a nervous breakdown, they’d all be sorry. Who’d save them from themselves?
“I wanna go back to Tulsa,” she murmured as Morgan headed west.
“Wise idea,” he agreed. “Despite the hype, Oz isn’t the magical paradise we’d have tourists believe.”
Jan’s cell phone shrilled in her purse, contributing to the headache she felt intensifying behind her eyes. “Hello?”
“Jan, things are falling apart here,” Diane whined in a voice that reminded Jan of a mewling Siamese cat. “Nobody knows how to operate this new software program. They keep grilling me and you know I’m uncomfortable leading a meeting. I can’t do it!”
“Diane, just take a breath and calm down,” Jan ordered.
Morgan took his eyes off the road momentarily to toss her a grin that implied she shouldn’t be calling the kettle black after her little scene with Richard. Childishly, she stuck out her tongue at him. He chuckled.
“When are you coming home?” Diane wanted to know.
“I’m not sure. I have another crisis to resolve,” Jan reported.
“My gosh, boss, the company needs you. I need you. You have to come home. I’m not ready to command yet.”
“Of course, you are,” Jan encouraged as she massaged her pounding temples. The headache was increasing in intensity by the second. It felt as if elf-size carpenters were drilling holes in her skull. “You have the educational background and know-how. That’s why I hired you.”
“Well, you made a mistake. The staff keeps storming the office, firing off questions at me and interrupting each other. It’s so noisy I can’t think straight!” she yowled.
“Breathe,