Much Ado About Mavericks (41 page)

“I’ve decided I don’t want to win.”  Ben put his arm around Jake and kissed her cheek.  “There are great benefits to be had when you lose.  The wedding’s tomorrow afternoon.”

“I ain’t said yes, yet.”

The judge laughed.  “See what I mean?  Benjamin, you were just bested.”

“I have my ways.”  He kissed her full on the mouth in front of everyone and planted his hand right on her butt.  “Marry me, Janelle
Kat
hryn O'Keefe.”

Blushing with love and all choked up, she nodded.  “Yes.”

*   *   *   *   *

The next morning, Ben got up early to finish the roundup accounting.  He didn’t want anything interfering with the next few days.  The problem was, all he could think of was a tall redhead full of fire.

His mother came in and sat on the chair beside the desk.  “Benjamin, would you mind sharing your wedding day with Whip and me?”

Stunned, he could only stare at her.  “But you’re in mourning, still.”

“This is the west.  People are practical out here.”

“I guess I’m a little surprised.  I didn’t know you liked him that well.”

“I love him.”  She looked down at her folded hands.  “It’s nothing new.”

He thought of all the years his mother spent as a subservient wife.  Whip would never treat her as poorly as his father had.  “Will you be happy?”

“Oh, yes!”

“I’ll talk to Jake, but I don’t think she’ll mind a bit.  We’re already sharing our wedding with Suzanne and Reginald.”

His mother jumped up and clasped her hands to her breast.  “Oh, thank you!”  She practically bounced out of the room.  Ben had never seen her act that way, but it made him feel good.

She ducked her head back in.  “Mrs. Hiatt’s bringing beer and the cake.  I wired Oreana and they wired back that the band will come and play for the dance.”  She left, and he heard her skip down the hall.

Ben laid his fountain pen down and stood.  The accounting would just have to wait a week.  The house was alive with the laughter of his mother and sister preparing for the fun, and he wanted to be part of it.

He went to the kitchen where his mother peeled apples and Suzanne kneaded bread.  “Seen Jake?”

“No, and you can’t, either.  It’s bad luck.”

“Who’s helping her get ready?”

The two women stopped and gazed at each other.  “Oh, my!” Suzanne said.  “We need to help her.”

“You can’t,” Mabel said.  “You have your own dressing and primping to do.”  She quartered the apple.  “I do, too.  Maybe we can send Mrs. Hiatt over to help her.”  She took a deep breath.  “Suzanne, Whip and I are getting married, too.”

From the looks of his sister, she had the same reaction he’d had.

“Whip?  You’re marrying Whip?”

Mabel nodded, smiling, and said, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Hmm.”  She shrugged.  “I don’t mind having Whip for a father.  He’s always been wonderful to me.”

Ben hadn’t even thought of that—Whip would be their stepfather.  He actually liked the idea.  “Do you ladies have anything for me to do?”

“Go help the judge decorate the parlor,” his mother said with a wave of her knife.  “I already told him what to do.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

*   *   *   *   *

Mrs. Hiatt held up that damnedable pink dress and shook it.  “You have to wear a dress for your wedding, Jake.  Ain’t no woman alive what got married in britches.”

Homer and Teddy giggled, while Henry shot daggers at the poor woman.

Shaking her head, Jake said, “I got clean clothes on.   They ain’t got no holes anywhere.”

“But don’t you want to look pretty for your groom?”

“She brushed her horse already,” Teddy said.  “Didn’t she, Homer?”

“Not that kind of groom.”  Henry sneered.  “The bridegroom kind of groom.”

Jake hushed them, then said to Mrs. Hiatt, “I washed my hair last night and scrubbed my face good, too.  And my teeth.”

Mrs. Hiatt held the dress up to her.  “I still think you oughta wear it.  Ben bought it for you.”

Henry jammed her hands on her hips.  “Jake don’t wear dresses.  Me and her wear garters on our sleeves.”  She lowered her head and stuck her lower lip out.

“Yup,” Jake agreed.  “We O'Keefes do that.”

Henry cocked her head.  “I ain’t a O'Keefe.”

“Yes you are.  Ben got me a paper from the judge that says I’m your mama now.  Teddy’s and Homer’s, too.”  Jake worried that their adoption might upset them, but they had to know that they were family, and that Ben would be joining them, not the other way around. 
Family
.  She nearly choked up just thinking about it.

“Well,” Henry said, “I guess you’re a helluva lot better mama than my last one.”

Teddy punched her in the arm.  “No cussing till you’re twelve.”  He looked at Jake and asked, “Is my name Theodore Something O'Keefe?”

“Oh, I think we could make you a better middle name.  How about Theodore Benjamin O'Keefe?”

“Yippee!”

“And Homer, you can have four names. Homer Franklin Collingwood O'Keefe.  How’s that sound?”

“That’s a lot to draw on my school papers.  I won’t have no room for my sums.”

She went over and kissed him on his forehead, which he promptly wiped off.  “You can decide for yourself.”

Teddy jammed his hands on his hips.  “If Homer has four names, then I want four names, too.  How about Theodore Benjamin Stoddard O’Keefe?”

Jake patted him on the head.  I think Ben would be honored if you took both his names.”

Mrs. Hiatt cleared her throat.  “Now that you have the name business cleared up, how about this dress?”

The bride held to her guns.  She didn’t want to disappoint Mrs. Hiatt, but she wasn’t about to put on any damned dress, either.  When Marshal Hiatt pulled up with the wagon, the poor woman was obviously dismayed when Jake climbed on—in her Sunday best britches, shirt, and vest.  She’d even soaped her boots.  The older woman had seemed quite pleased when Jake agreed to wear her hair loosely pulled back and fastened with the same mother of pearl comb that Mrs. Hiatt had worn for her own wedding.

The marshal stopped the wagon in front of the Bar EL barn and the strays scrambled off, running to Whip.  “Look at you!” Homer exclaimed.  “You got your Sunday duds on, just like we do.”

“Yeah,” Teddy said.  “You better stand real still because Jake said she’d whoop our butts good if we got dirty before the wedding.”

“I’ll be mighty careful.”  He picked Teddy up and slung the boy on his hip.  “Time’s a’wasting.  It’s time to get hitched.  Marshal, you and your wife go on in the house now.  They’re expecting you.”

He steered Jake and the strays to the back porch.  “Mabel told me to take you in the back way,” he explained.

That didn’t make any sense to Jake, but she was walking half-dazed as it was.  Thinking was just an added burden.

Jam-packed with people, the house didn’t look like it had room for one more soul.  Suzanne opened the door and flung her arms around Jake.  “Oh, isn’t this wonderful!  You’re going to be my sister now.” 

She grabbed Jake’s hand and pulled her to a bedroom.  Jake had never been in there before, but she knew it had to be Suzanne’s.  The gunbelt holding those beautiful pearl-handled pistols hung on the wall by the dresser. 

Suzanne fetched them and offered them to Jake.  “You’re supposed to wear something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.  I see you have all of them covered—that vest looks new, and the comb in your hair looks very old.  Your shirt is blue, and,” she handed Jake the gunbelt, “this is something borrowed.”

Jake buckled them on.  “Thanks.  I don’t suppose it’s fitting, but I’m proud you let me borrow them.”

“Ma will be here in a minute.  Now, as soon as you hear the piano, we’ll all go out and stand by our men.  Next thing you know, we’ll be old married women!” 

Suzanne worked off her nervousness by dancing around, fussing with this flower and that doodad.  Jake’s mouth, though, was dry as alkali and her knees were as weak as butterfly wings.  The rest of those butterflies were flitting around in her belly.

Mabel dashed in, slammed the door, and peered in the mirror, patting her hair.  “They’re starting.  Everyone’s in place.  Suzanne, you’ll be first, then Jake, then me.”  She opened a trunk and pulled out three bouquets of silk flowers.  “Ben brought these from
Silver
City
.  The blue ones are for you, Jake.”

Jake took them, not having any idea what she was supposed to do with a bunch of fake flowers.  They were pretty, though, and scented.

“The yellow ones are for you, Suzanne, they’ll go nicely with your white gown.”

Mabel held a single red rose.  “This is for the mother of the groom--and the bride.  It’ll serve as my bouquet.”  She rushed over to Jake and lifted her hand that held the flowers.  “No, don’t hold them down.  Hold your bouquet with both hands at your waist, flowers up.”

Jake nodded just as the music started.  Mabel nodded at Suzanne.  “Open the door and walk out with your head high and a smile on your face.”

Jake considered that since she was taller than anyone there except Ben, she wouldn’t have much problem with the ‘head high’ part.  Suzanne stepped out and Jake followed, nervous as hell with all those people watching. 

Then she saw Ben, standing tall and dignified in his fancy suit and that crooked grin on his handsome face.  Jake beamed a smile back at him, and hoped the judge didn’t talk too damned long.  There were other things she wanted to do.

She stood by his side, happier than she had ever known.  The music stopped and Judge Glover entoned, “Dearly beloved . . .”  He cleared his throat.  “Excuse me, folks, but before I get started,” he looked at Whip, “I need your official name.  I doubt your mother named you ‘Whip.’”

Whip straightened his shoulders.  Stealing a glance at Ben, he said, “My name is Benjamin Neil Stoddard.”

*   *   *   *   *

Ben froze, vaguely hearing the guests gasp.  He remembered Whip’s story at the roundup camp.  He’d told his own story—and Mabel’s.  Ben was the son Whip had watched grow up without ever suspecting who his true father was.  Jake squeezed Ben’s hand, and he relaxed.

The judge held up his book and started again.  “Dearly beloved—”

Someone pounded on the door.  Osbourne Callison barged in, followed by Ezra Lawrence. 

“Oh, my heavens!” a woman cried, then swooned.  Everyone in the room stared at the man they thought was dead.  Ben’s stomach felt like it had a rock in it.

“Ha!”  Ezra snickered.  “Thought you were rid of the old goat, huh?” 

In the silence someone groaned, “Oh, shit.”  Mabel looked horrified, as did Whip, who pulled her behind him.

Ezra chuckled, then coughed.  “Well I’m not dead, as you can all see.”  He spread his arms and turned in a circle.  “This is my house and my land.”

He walked over to Ben and looked him square in the eye.  “Skeeter, get the hell back to
Boston
.  You’re not getting my ranch.  Not now.  Not ever.”  He spat on the floor, then grasped Mabel by the back of the neck and forced her into the kitchen.

Whip grabbed Ezra’s arm.  “Let go of her,
Lawrence
.  She’s not yours—she never was.”

Ezra jerked his arm away and slapped Mabel’s face, leaving a red mark the shape of his hand.  To Whip, he growled, “She’s my wife.  Legal.”

Whip punched him in the ribs and Mabel ran to the other side of the table.  Ben rushed to them and shoved his way in between the two glowering men.  “Stop it, now!”

Ezra slumped in a chair, coughing, then he wheezed.  “Don’t go acting like this is your home, Skeeter.”  He gasped and held his hand to his chest.  “Your bastard sister, either.  Go back to
Boston
and take her with you.”

The marshal and the judge walked into the room.  “Ezra,” Marshal Hiatt said, “You’re under arrest for fraud.”

“Arrest me?” he boomed.  Pointing to Mabel, he said, “Hell, she’s the fraud.”  He snorted, then laughed sharply.  “Sweet Mabel, the dutiful wife who carries on with the hired help.”

Ben saw tears running down his mother’s face and her lips quivering.  “It was all Ezra’s idea,” she whispered.

Ezra chuckled.  “She’s just a whore in society clothes, but she was the wife I needed to build this ranch and be respected.  Hell, no one knew what kind of a woman she really was.”

Sneering at Ben he said, “You’re just a bastard with a last name.  Fred—he’s
my
boy, and they got him locked up for stealing something that was his in the first place.” 

Ben wadded up his fist, ready to knock him from his chair.  Too bad the old man wasn’t twenty years younger—Ben would have loved to have a go at him. 

The marshal took Ezra’s arm.  “Come on.  I’m taking you to jail.”

“The hell you are!”  He pulled his pistol and shot through the ceiling.  The noise deafened them all.

Ben lunged over the table and snatched the pistol out of Ezra’s hand and gave it to the marshal.  “Need help?”