On both sides.
Why? Because our families had been at war for three generations. Starting with my grandaddy Duke Goodall Senior. The story went that he was in love with Amberlynn McAllister, the young farm girl next door. They were an item all through school. But when Amberlynn ended up pregnant by another man, my grandaddy was rightfully heartbroken. And yet, he was so in love he was willing to work through the betrayal and raise her kin as his own and marry the girl he loved. Only her father, Earl “John” McAllister, wouldn’t let her see him. He kept his daughter hidden away and refused any and all access to her. One day she was Grandaddy’s girl and they were working toward a future together, and the next she was pregnant, rushed down the aisle, and married to one of her father’s business partners. Amberlynn had made a mockery of their love which led Duke Senior to want absolutely nothin’ to do with the McAllisters or anyone attached to their farm. That was the year the feud started. It only got worse with each new generation.
This went on for decades as the two farms rivaled for cattle purchases, horse trades, business deals, and everything in between.
The feud grew and only got bigger when my father, Duke Junior, was seeing a sweet girl named Carol Lincoln who lived across town. They had been dating for a year when Everett McAllister, grandson of old man Earl “John” McAllister, swooped in and stole Carol away from my daddy. Wooed her relentlessly until she succumbed to his wiles and ditched my daddy to marry Everett, the man who would one day become Dakota and Savannah’s father. My father was so incensed that history was repeating itself, he vowed that he would do whatever it took to take over the McAllisters’ land and shove them right out of Sandee forever.
To this day, decades later, Dad still felt the same. Which meant I was going to have spin some tall tales in order to get my family to accept Dakota as my bride-to-be. But first, I had to get her to sign the contract without seeing me in person, and then win her over. Dakota and I hadn’t seen each other in several years, as I’d been traveling the nation making deals and securing connections for the farm. Still, once she laid eyes on me, she’d eventually recognize me, and the shit would hit the fan. She’d never sign her name if she knew Sutton Goodall, her rival, the family trying to buy out her farm, was on the other side of that agreement. I knew in my heart the only viable reason she’d be here selling herself, taking such drastic measures to secure a lot of money quickly, was because she was trying to save her farm. The same farm her daddy continued to sink into an unfathomable debt.
I walked to the room assigned to me for the contractual part of the evening. Madam Alana exited a door farther down the hallway and approached me with a smile.
“Mr. Goodall, it’s lovely to meet you in person.” She held out her hand.
“The pleasure is all mine.” I shook her hand with both of my own, smiling warmly.
She lifted her chin primly and clasped her hands together in front of her. “Shall we, then? I understand your intended is waiting beyond this door.”
I sucked air between my teeth and tipped my hat. “Well now, herein lies the problem. Once I go in, there is a very real chance she will not sign the contract.”
Madam Alana’s sleek brows furrowed. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“We have a bit of a history, me and Dakota. I’d like for you to ensure she signs the contract prior to me entering.”
Her pretty smile disappeared and her lips twisted into a thin, flat line. “I do not coerce candidates into signing marriage contracts, Mr. Goodall.”
I waved my hand in front of us. “Nah, I understand that. Believe me, I do. However, if I read through the materials correctly, they each had the opportunity to mark off an individual that they didn’t want to marry. Isn’t that right?”
She lifted her chin as if thinking about the very specific parameters each of us bachelors had to accept prior to attending the auction. It was a lengthy and very detailed agreement.
“True. She had the chance to mark you off based on your image alone.”
I smiled wide and removed my hat. “Well, I feel as though I’d like to surprise my bride. And since she didn’t mark me off, there shouldn’t be any issue with me surprising her.”
I watched as Madam Alana clenched her teeth.
“It feels as though you have something up your sleeve, Mr. Goodall,” she stated flatly.
I grinned. “That’s for me to know, and my bride to find out.” I winked.
“Fine. I shall expect your appearance within the next five minutes,” she said in a haughty manner I’d come to expect with these razzle and dazzle types. She sauntered into the room and closed the door behind her.
I waited a solid eight minutes before entering with my hat on and head down. I went straight to the table without so much as a glance at the two women. I picked up the pen lying there, noted her signature scrawled over the section labeled ‘Candidate,’ and added mine to the space indicated for the Bidder. Then I picked up the document, folded it, and finally looked up as I handed it to Madam Alana.
She took it and coolly stared at the two of us as though waiting for something to happen.
A few beats went by, then she gracefully announced, “I’ll just leave you two to get acquainted,” and took her leave.
Dakota’s gaze was like warm pools of melted chocolate as she took me in. I didn’t say a word as I removed my Stetson and set it on the table, letting her look her fill.
“Hello, wife,” I murmured, appreciating every inch of her lengthy form. The purple dress hugged her athletic curves perfectly, highlighting an already beautiful woman the way black velvet showcased diamond rings. And, in this dress, she definitely sparkled like a rare gem.
In a matter of seconds, a myriad of her feelings presented themselves in a wild display of physical expressions. Her mouth dropped open in pure shock before what I assumed was fear made her skin pale. Then as I watched in stunning magnification, her eyes blazed while her cheeks turned pink and a pretty, rosy color appeared across her chest and crawled up her neck.
Fury.
Anger.
Hatred.
All three of those things spread across her exceptional features until her arm arched back suddenly and her fist shot out, clocking me in the jaw so hard I stumbled back.
“How dare you!” she roared as I rubbed at the burning fire searing my jaw. The woman had a mighty right hook. Mike Tyson would have been proud.
I held up my hands. “Dakota…darlin’…”
“Don’t you darlin’ me, you bastard!” she sneered and shoved me with both hands.
Once again, I took a few steps back, but she continued to approach until I was up against a wall.
Her righteous anger was nothing short of a raging inferno contained inside an unbreachable steel box.
She was magnificent.
Her soul on fire.
And I had a front row seat.