Page 27 of Just (Fake) Married
I wrote this.
“Son of a bitch,” Mac said, over my shoulder.
Prescott continued to read. “It’s time this feud between our families ends. This town, this place, it’s dying. Like I am. I can feel it. If we’re going to save it, then Calloways and McGraws are going to have to do it together.”
He paused and took a breath.
“Or, we have to all let it go.”
Carter stood up. “What does that mean? Let it go? Let what go?”
“Should the conditions of this will not be met, all the conditions, then the Swinging D, all of its land, cattle and assets, will be sold to the Bureau of Land Management-”
“The fuck!” Carter shouted. “He can’t do that!”
“Please,” Mr. Prescott said, motioning with his hand, urging Carter to sit. “Let me finish.”
“This is bullshit! We can-”
“Carter,” I said to my brother. “We have to hear it. All of it.”
Mr. Prescott cleared his throat and continued. His hands were shaking, making the paper rattle. “For a sum agreed upon between my sons and the federal government. Enough money that should set you all up with new homes and a new life, wherever that might be.”
“And the town?” Harmony cried. “What happens to Last Hope Gulch if the Swinging D is gone?”
Mr. Prescott nodded. “I believe that’s what he meant about this place dying. If you can’t save the town, he believed it should die quickly, rather than let it wither away in some prolonged manner.”
“Get to the conditions,” I said quietly. “What does he ask us to do?”
Mr. Prescott cleared his throat again. “To save the town, you have to put it back on the map. There was a time our Feud Day Festival would win a Blue Ribbon Award from the state of Wyoming, which kept the history of this great state alive for its citizens. That honor must be restored.”
“Win back the Blue Ribbon,” Mac said. “Okay. We can do that. That’s it?”
“To do that, you’re going to need to show the town a united front. Something for them to rally behind, to cheer on. I always found that a good love story does the trick. So, to unite our families to save the town, and to give the town something to root for, a McGraw must marry a Calloway. Then, as a married couple, they can open the Feud Day Festival together.”
All the blood rushed to my ears. Did he say…marriage?
“He can’t do that,” Amity whispered. She turned to Mac. “Mac? He can’t do that. Not after…”
Mac shook his head tightly to cut her off.
“No. This can’t be legal,” Carter said. “There’s not a judge in the county that will abide by this nonsense.”
“I think you’re forgetting the influence your father had over the judges in this county,” Mr. Prescott said. “Look, these are the conditions of the will. Yes, you can contest them, but the bottom line is, as the sole proprietor of the Swinging D, Leroy McGraw could do whatever he wanted with his property. That being said…I did some research into Wyoming’s divorce requirements, and there is only a twenty day wait time once one of the parties is notified.”
“So, you think we get married, then just get divorced after the festival is over?” Carter suggested.
“I have no opinion on that,” Mr. Prescott said. “But there is more, if you’ll allow me to continue.”
“Geezus!” Bliss barked. “Was this guy writing a will or his memoirs?”
“This particular part of the will is directed to Monica Calloway,” Mr. Prescott said, pulling yet another letter from his briefcase.
Monica’s back stiffened. “But you already gave me his letter,” she told the lawyer.
“That was for your eyes only. This he wanted to make known to all of you.” Mr. Prescott pulled that letter out of the envelope.
“My Dearest Monica,” Prescott said, his eyes lifting to Mrs. Calloway, who sat in the middle of the couch, surrounded by her witchy daughters, with her eyes full of tears. “It should have been us. I’ll never regret loving you, but I regret every second I hurt you. I should have been a better man. One of my sons will step up and make it right with one of your daughters.”
