Eddie’s Prize (5 page)

The tremor in Lisa’s hands became uncontrollable shaking that spread up her arms to her entire body. She hugged herself tightly to keep from breaking apart. “Ray said we would be wives.”

Carla made an impatient, rude sound and shoved her long brown hair behind her ear. “Same difference.”

“I wish I could wake up and be back home in Los Angeles,” Lisa whispered. “I wish this were a dream.”

But it wasn’t. She turned back to the mirror to coat her lashes with her favorite waterproof mascara. She chose waterproof because if she ended up in tears, she didn’t want her mascara smeared all over her face.

“If this were a dream, it would be a nightmare.” Carla gestured at the overflowing makeup bag balanced on the edge of the pedestal sink. “Are you really putting on all your makeup? Why?”

Being pretty was the only thing Lisa was good at. “It’s my armor, like a mask,” she said simply. She never admitted that out loud before, but it was true. “When I’m made up, no one can see the true me.”

She didn’t wait to see Carla’s blink, but turned her full attention to putting on her armor. Oh, damn. She looked awful. Maybe she should wash it off.

Mrs. Madison appeared in the hall outside the bathroom. “Ready, ladies?” she asked cheerfully. Bree was beside her, brassy blonde curls cascading down her back, plump face excited.

Why should she want to be beautiful today? Lisa grabbed the rag in the washbowl and scrubbed her face viciously to clean her makeup away, finishing with a makeup remover towelette and a little more moisturizer.

“Lisa,” chided Mrs. Madison. “The men are waiting to walk you to the theater.”

Lisa’s pale blue eyes met Carla’s hazel ones in the mirror. Carla looked angry, not frightened. She glared at Mrs. Madison.

“You can’t do this to us!” Carla spat. “It’s against the law!”

Mrs. Madison put a soothing hand on Carla’s arm, as if Carla hadn’t already said that a hundred times already. “No, it’s not. My husband is the mayor of Kearney. He makes the laws. Don’t be upset, dear. Whichever man wins the Bride Fight will be good to you. Only the men I trust were allowed to enter, the ones who are well-off, educated, and kind.”

Yeah, Eddie said that last night. Tears threatened to spill, making Lisa gulp desperately to prevent them. Bree squeezed into the bathroom to give her a sisterly hug. “And you don’t worry, Lisa,” she said gaily. “My brother is determined to win you, and he never loses.”

That was actually slightly comforting. Not only was Eddie handsome, he was also kind. Last night he tried to reassure her, and looked at her with heat in his eyes even the dimness of the room couldn’t hide. A wedding night with Eddie wouldn’t be a hardship. It was living in this world that worried her.

Somehow Lisa found herself being herded down the elegantly carved staircase to the dark-paneled hall below, still clutching her makeup bag. Six men waited in the foyer wearing coats and jeans and heavy boots. For a moment Lisa inwardly cringed, feeling horridly exposed without her makeup. She catalogued their faces and hairstyles and was less than impressed. Didn’t they have a dentist? She hoped to God none of them entered the Bride Fight.

The Bride Fight? It was ludicrous to think two women could be made prizes for men to fight to win. Ray Madison explained women were valuable, and to make it fair to the single men in town, he would hold a Bride Fight. The best fighter would win her to be his wife. Eddie explained how women came to be so rare in far kinder words last night. Kind words and heated glances didn’t make it any more right. The zipper-pull on her makeup bag cut into Lisa’s palm. She forced herself to loosen her grip.

Bree handed Lisa her purse and gave her another hug. “Me and mom will be cleaning the little house for you and Eddie to live in,” Bree whispered. “See you later.”

The girl’s certainty gave Lisa a little hope. She took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and stepped toward the door. One of the men tried to take Carla’s arm. She jerked away with a scowl. He raised his hands in surrender with a condescending smirk. Lisa thought for a minute Carla would attack him. But she only turned and stalked out of the house with offended dignity, allowing the men to fall in around her like a squad of guards. They probably
were
guards, but the men didn’t need to worry about them running away. After two days of walking and looking for help for the plane passengers, she and Carla knew there was nowhere else to go.

Lisa walked next to Carla through the yard to the gate in the tall stone fence. She wondered if she’d ever pass through it again. The streets they walked through were crowded with hundreds of men, who all stared at them. Shivers of distaste slid like ice cubes down Lisa’s back. Distaste veered into fear at the expressions on some of the men’s faces. Several of the men gyrated their bodies lewdly in a parody of sex. Some grabbed their crotches as if they were masturbating through their clothes. Horrified, Lisa found her composure wavering. And Eddie said this town was straight-laced!

Carla kept her eyes straight ahead, expression coldly dignified. Lisa tried to emulate her. Throwing up wouldn’t look dignified, but she felt she might heave at any minute. As they passed, the men fell in behind, whistling and shouting filthy suggestions at them.

“Too bad we don’t have candy to throw to the crowd,” Carla said sarcastically out of the corner of her mouth. “Is this what a float in a parade feels like?”

“I doubt it,” Lisa shuddered. “Nobody wants to rape a float.”

As for candy, the comments the men shouted at them made it clear she and Carla were the candy. Twenty minutes ago, Lisa dreaded reaching the theater. Now she was glad to see the old brick building one of the guards pointed out as the theater. The guards brought them in by a side door and physically forced a path through the men packed in the narrow hallway like sardines. This was ten times worse than the most rabid pack of paparazzi she ever faced. Lisa was relieved when the guards finally got them to a staircase with rotted carpet that reeked of mildew and mold. The staircase and the hall it led to were narrow but blessedly empty. A pair of armed men stood there to prevent anyone from following them up the stairs.

The women climbed the stairs shoulder to shoulder, their guards in front and in back. The roar of hundreds of men talking was muted here, but at the top of the stairs, the roar grew louder and more distinct. There was a long narrow corridor with doors on one side every few yards. Lisa recognized this as a hallway that led to box seats or balconies. They stopped at the second to the last door, and one of the guards opened the door and gestured Carla in to the small balcony. Carla balked, staring at Lisa.

“I guess this is it.”

Carla’s voice was flat except for a tiny tremor. Lisa thought it was rage, not fear. She knew her own stomach swam with terror. There was anger too, but mostly she felt helpless and frightened. Carla’s fists were clenched, but she relaxed them to give Lisa a quick hug. Lisa clung to her new best friend for a moment, trying to force back tears. She wanted to say something, but what was there to say? After one last squeeze, the singer stepped back, turned, and marched onto the balcony like a defiant gladiator entering an arena he didn’t expect to walk out of. The noise from the hundreds of men rose to a crescendo before the door closed again.

Lisa meekly followed the guards to the last door and entered her balcony with trepidation. In the back of the balcony it was dark, but at the front, where the low ledge marked the front, it was bright. Hesitant, Lisa moved to the front and stared out at the theater. The opposite wall had been remodeled with odd windows that didn’t match but did let in light. The floor below was crowded with at least four hundred men, all looking up, right at her. They roared in unison, clapped their hands, stomped their feet, and yelled. Lisa thought they looked like starving dogs slavering over a fresh kill, and she felt bloody and raw, like she had been gutted and her innards exposed. Men at the edge of the crowd massaged the fronts of their pants and grinned at her. Her stomach rolled. She shot a horrified glance at Carla, but Carla stared with a fierce pretense of boredom at the chandeliers. Those chandeliers, inoperable without electricity and stripped of most of their crystals, were a tawdry reminder of their uselessness. When Lisa dared look back to the crowd, she was relieved to see the crude men being disciplined by their neighbors’ fists.

Four of the guards were on the balcony with her. One of them moved a chair from the back of the balcony to the front. He placed it near the balcony’s railed ledge. “You can sit down if your feet get tired. Eddie told me your feet were hurt.”

Lisa almost cried at the hint of kindness. “Thank you.”

But she didn’t sit in it. Taking a deep breath, she groped for the cool self-possession that carried her down runways all over the world. She found only a sliver, but it would have to do. It was cold, so she blamed that for the tremble in her hands and looked around with what she hoped was a composed face. Directly below her was a raised stage with only a few men on it. None of them looked up. They were busy pacing off space and marking lines on the stage floor. They were making a square like a boxing ring. That must be where the fights to determine her future would take place. Lisa clamped down on a shudder.

Like Carla said—this was it.

Lisa tried to keep her cool expression intact. All those frightening men on the theater floor still stared up at her. At least they weren’t screaming anymore. She wanted to hide, but she was on display, exhibited like a trophy cup at a sporting event to be taken home by the winner. She wasn’t sure how convincing her expression was when she was trembling and fighting tears.

Back home, her face was her fortune. She was careful to present it at its best. She could always make herself look beautiful, using her expression and makeup to appear flawless. It was the only thing she was good at. As a model, she could saunter down a runway, pout for the camera, and strike a pose to show off designer clothes to their best advantage, but here she was on display, her hair hanging lank around her bare face, her imperfections exposed to the beastly men who drooled over her. Only a few yards away Carla looked as cool as a cucumber, as if she couldn’t care less that in a few hours she would be owned by a stranger.

Owned! Lisa didn’t want to be owned by a stranger who could do anything he wanted to her. Where was Eddie? She whirled away from scanning the crowd when the door behind her squeaked open.

“Well now,” said Ray, moving past the four men at the back of her balcony. “There’s the blushing bride-to-be, pretty as a picture. No wonder my boy is so took with you.”

“Where is he? I don’t see Eddie anywhere.” Lisa was embarrassed by the wobble in her voice, but who wouldn’t have a wobble under the circumstances—except Carla, of course. Lisa almost resented her, but she remembered that last fierce hug they exchanged only a few minutes ago. No, she didn’t resent Carla. She was the only person in this crazy world who knew who Lisa Anton was.

Ray smiled. “He’s here. He’s dead set on winning you. He’ll do it too, just to spite me. He was ticked I wouldn’t give you to him.”

“Why didn’t you?” Lisa was ticked too. Eddie had been nice to her. He said he would take care of her. That sounded so much better than going home with one of these crude men who massaged themselves to catch her attention. She hoped none of those men was entering the Bride Fight.
Oh, please, God, let Eddie win.
That wasn’t swearing; it was a genuine prayer, maybe the first she prayed since Sunday school at St. John’s Lutheran Church when she was in grade school.

Ray spread his hands. “How would that look, me giving a woman to my son when there are thousands of men without a wife? I can’t play favorites, not if I want to stay in charge here. Ah. There he is.”

Lisa glanced at the sea of men on the theater floor and found Eddie by his dark gold hair. He was directly below her, a yard away from the stage. For a moment she forgot everything else while she ran slow, thorough eyes over him. Eddie was a god. A perfect idol fashioned of gold and ivory. He was shirtless, and his lean chest and narrow waist were gorgeous. Lisa frowned. His pecs and abs were well-defined with muscle, but he looked so slender, almost skinny, compared to the other men he stood with. If those other men, so burly and thick, were who he would be fighting, he wouldn’t have a chance.

Ray seemed to read her concern. He patted her on the head like a child, although she was an inch taller than him. “He might look a bit small, but he’s fast and a helluva lot stronger than he looks. He’ll mop the floor with the rest of them fighters. Just wait. I’ll be calling you daughter before night.”

Ugh, that was the bad part of Eddie winning. But Eddie was the best choice. Some of these other men who eyed her and puffed out their chests were handsome enough to be models—or they would be if they did something with their hair and teeth—but Eddie was the only one she wanted.

Eddie was beautiful. Lisa watched him stretch to warm up. She wasn’t sure what made him so beautiful. Yes, his facial features were even and perfect in their lines and proportions. His hair was thick and a vibrant golden color not produced in an expensive salon. His physique… She ran her eyes over his body with a suppressed pang of lust. Perhaps his body was a bit on the lean side, but with enough muscle tone to be featured on giant billboards advertising men’s underwear.

Lisa was no stranger to gorgeous male models. So it had to be something more than Eddie’s looks that caught her eye. He had been kind last night. He was nice. But she hadn’t known that when she’d first met him, and from the moment he stepped off the porch, when she’d still been in the wagon, she had been drawn to him. Maybe it was fate.

She was glad she caught his eye. From what he said last night, there was no way she and Carla could ever go back to their world. If she was going to be stuck in this primitive place, she’d rather be with him than some crude lout who thought all she was good for was producing babies. She shuddered.

Eddie saw her looking at him, and he smiled his tantalizingly sweet smile at her. How could someone like Ray produce this stunning young man? He noticed his father standing beside her and blew her a kiss, probably to annoy him.