R. J. went red in the face to be put on the spot like that. Dorothy turned her face away, refusing flat out to discuss the feud or anything else.

Cassie sighed. “You’re mighty stubborn, both of you, but haven’t you realized yet that that stubbornness is now hurting your children — at least Jenny and Clayton? If you folks would just leave them alone, they could end up with a happy marriage. Haven’t you figured out yet that they’re both miserable right now?”

“My boy ain’t miserable,” R. J. blustered. “And you ain’t got nothing to say that I want to hear, little girl, so tell that husband of yours to open up that door.”

“Not yet, Mr. MacKauley. You forced a wedding on me. I’m just forcing a little conversation on you.”

R. J.‘s answer was to turn his back on her, making Cassie grit her teeth in exasperation. But she’d known what she was up against. She’d never met anyone so bullheaded, so unreasonable, so plain-out ornery. But before she could even think of what to say that might break through his obstinacy, Dorothy Catlin spoke, and there was no doubt that she’d been caught by surprise from what she’d just heard.

“R. J., you didn’t. Again? You made the same stupid mistake again?”

“Now, Dotty,” R. J. began in what was clearly an attempt to placate, but he didn’t get far.

“Don’t you ‘now, Dotty’ me, you sorry son of a bitch. Tell me you didn’t arrange another wedding with a gun in your hand. Go on, tell me.”

“It wasn’t the same, dammit,” R. J. protested. “She claimed he was her fianc�.”

“And you believed that?” Dorothy exclaimed incredulously. “An innocent thing like her and a ruthless killer?”

Angel winced. Cassie cringed. The MacKauley boys were staring at the arguing pair in wide-eyed amazement, including Frazer, who couldn’t find anything funny about this—yet. But Jenny Catlin was getting mad, as certain things she’d heard over the years started clicking together.

“What do you mean again, Ma?” Jenny asked as she left Clayton’s side — no one had got around to untying him, so she had done it— and confronted her mother. “Who else did he force to get married?”

Dorothy’s fury was quickly replaced with defensiveness. “It’s not important.”

“Isn’t it? It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Jenny—”

But Jenny was standing her ground for once. “I want to know what’s keepin‘ me from my husband, Ma. You’ve put me off every time I’ve ever asked, but not this time. It was you, wasn’t it? Is that what started this feud?”

Dorothy actually looked to R. J. for help. When Jenny saw that, she exploded. “Dammit, I’ve got a right to know! My baby has a right to know!”

“Your baby?”

Three people said it. Clayton added a whoop to his and rushed forward to swing Jenny around in his arms. She hadn’t meant to tell him this way. Actually, she hadn’t thought she’d get a chance to tell him. And his happiness dissolved some of her anger with their parents.

“A baby,” R. J. repeated and sat down on a wooden crate to digest the news. “If that don’t beat all.” And then he caught Dorothy’s shocked expression and grinned. “Did you hear that, Dotty? We’re going to share a grandbaby.”

Dorothy gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Who said anything about sharing? Your boy can come and live at my place.”

“Like hell!” R. J. shot back onto his feet. “Your girl will be havin‘ that baby at my place, or I’ll—” He had to stop, since there simply wasn’t a threat appropriate to this particular situation that he could think of.

Dorothy took advantage of his pause to advance on him. “So now she’s welcome?”

R. J. ignored that and stubbornly insisted, “A wife’s place is with her husband.”

Dorothy reached him and poked a finger so hard in his chest that he was pushed back down on the wooden crate. “Not if she’s divorced it ain’t.”

“Oh, hell, Dotty, you can’t still—”

“Can’t I?”

“Both of you stop it,” Jenny said as she pushed back from Clayton, though he retained an arm around her waist, clearly indicating they were a united front. “Where I have this baby is up to me, and I might not be having it in Texas at all if I don’t get some answers. The truth, Ma, and no more sidestepping ‘round it.”

Dorothy had turned around to face her daughter. R. J. grumbled behind her back, “Where the hell did she get so much gumption?”

“Where the hell do you think?” Dorothy replied for his ears only, before she squared her shoulders and started the explanation her daughter was demanding. “We were in love, that old coot and me.”

It was too much for Frazer, whose humor returned with a vengeance. Morgan leaned over to shut him up with a kick. That didn’t work, so Clayton went over and socked him one.

That got the quiet back, long enough for Jenny to express everyone’s amazement. “Not you and R. J.!”

“Yes, me and R. J.,” Dorothy said in pure disgruntlement. “Now, do you want to hear this or not?”

“I won’t interrupt again,” Jenny assured her.

“We were supposed to get married—”

“You and R. J?”

“Jenny!”

“Well, I can’t help it, Ma. You hate that man.”

“I didn’t always,” Dorothy said defensively. “There was a time when I would have shot the son of a bitch if he even looked at another woman. Trouble was, he was more crazy jealous than I was. And one day he came by and saw me sitting on the porch with my pa’s foreman, Ned Catlin. I was patting his hand in sympathy ‘cause he’d just had word that his ma had died and he was real broke up about it.

“R. J. jumped to the wrong conclusion, though, and went off and got drunk, so drunk he came back that night and took me and Ned to the church, where he forced us to marry. He had some crazy idea about making me a wife and a widow in one day, only he passed out before he got around to the widow-making part. And Ned wasn’t exactly as honest as the day is long. He didn’t mind marrying me at all, not when it promoted him from foreman to boss, giving him a share of the profits from the ranch. He wouldn’t give me a divorce even though he knew I didn’t love him and never would.

“It didn’t end there. R. J. stayed drunk for a couple of months, and he started taking potshots at Ned whenever he saw him. ‘Course drunk, he can’t even hit the side of a barn. But Ned got annoyed enough to start shooting back. He was a bit luckier and hit R. J. once.”

“You call shootin‘ me in my foot lucky?” R. J. interjected.

Dorothy ignored that, continuing. “That’s when R. J. started sobering up and got serious about killing my husband. Ned figured since I didn’t want him around anyway, it’d be healthier if he took off. Only he got my pa all fired up before he left, enough for him to file charges against R. J. But all that did was embarrass R. J. and turn him meaner.

“That’s when he married my best friend, thinking that would hurt me. I’ll admit it did, particularly when she got pregnant so fast. I had a husband I couldn’t get a divorce from, and R. J. was starting a family. I started hating him then.

“And Ned, he only came home when he ran short of money. But he never stayed long because as soon as R. J. found out he was back, the damn shooting would start up again.”

“I know Pa was never around,” Jenny said, speaking quietly now. “But how come you never told us he was such a bastard?”

“Because I had reason to be grateful to him, Jen. He didn’t come around often, but each time he did, he left me with a baby. And the ranch and you children were all I had to live for. Besides, he never would have got so greedy if R. J. hadn’t shoved temptation his way. Ned was a hard worker and a good foreman before that.”

A heavy silence followed. R. J. was the one to break it. “Christ, that ain’t the way I remember it, Dotty.”

She turned around to give him a level look. “I’m not surprised. You were never sober long enough back then to remember much of anything.”

“If that’s the way it happened, I think maybe I owe you an apology.”

She wasn’t impressed. “Is that right?”

He looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Do you — ah — suppose we might put all that behind us and start over?”

“No.”

He sighed. “I didn’t think so.”

“But you can take me to town tomorrow night for dinner and we can discuss it.”

Frazer couldn’t let that one pass. His laughter started up again. R. J. took off one of his boots and threw it at his eldest.

Dorothy remarked, “That’s a strange one you got there, R. J.”

“I know it,” R. J. grumbled. “Dumb shit would laugh at his own funeral. Come on, Dotty, and I’ll escort you home like I used to — that is—” He turned to Cassie. “You got any more conversation to force on us, little girl?”

Cassie was grinning. She couldn’t help it. “No, sir. I don’t believe there’s anything left for me to meddle with in these parts.”

Angel had already opened the door and was standing to the side of it. The chill night air that rushed in wasn’t conducive to lingering. R. J. led the way, minus his boot, but stopped next to Angel to give him an appraising look.

“I think you and me can call it even,” R. J. said.

“Looks to me like you came out ahead,” Angel replied.

R. J. grinned. “Guess I did at that. But satisfy my curiosity, son. How come they call you the Angel of Death?”

“Probably because no one has ever survived a fight with me.”

R. J. found that amusing and left chuckling. His sons didn’t, and gave Angel a wide berth as they exited. Jenny stopped by Cassie to give her a hug.

“I can’t believe this really happened, but thank you,” Jenny said.