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It seemed everyone inside the Grange hall followed Carl outside. Several of the men raced toward their cars, started their engines and then arranged the vehicles in a wide circle, keeping on the headlights so that a makeshift arena was formed.
“The winner gets Candy,” Derrick shouted.
“I refuse to be anyone’s prize,” she said in a huff, but the only ones who listened appeared to be the other women. Most of them tossed her disparaging looks as if to say this was all her fault.
Candy was willing to admit she’d made a terrible mess of this, but she couldn’t think of any way out of it now.
She didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t keep from watching, either. The two men squared off. Derrick raised his fists and snarled at Carl.
As if this matter were of little concern to him, Carl removed his hat and rolled up his shirtsleeves. From the corner of her eye, Candy saw money being exchanged and realized that several of the locals were placing bets. From the bits of conversation she heard, Carl was the underdog.
She groaned inwardly. Carl didn’t have a chance of defeating Derrick. The other man outweighed him by fifty pounds, and was at least four inches taller. In addition, Derrick had been drinking and everyone in town knew he was a unscrupulous drunk.
Carl hadn’t finished rolling up his sleeves before Derrick threw a punch. The crowd booed. Carl’s head snapped back and his nose started to bleed.
Candy gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. “Stop them,” she cried. “Someone, please stop than.”
No one listened.
Candy watched, amazed at what happened next. Carl wiped the blood from beneath his nose with the back of his hand then stepped toward Derrick.
The bully swung again, and missed.
With four rapid fire punches, Carl sent Derrick to his knees. A cry went up from the crowd and once again Candy saw a fistful of dollars being traded.
Derrick staggered to his feet and shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. Growling, he roared toward Carl. Candy was convinced if he could, Derrick would have killed Carl. She cried out a warning, but none was necessary. Carl easily sidestepped the other man, which only provoked Derrick further. He whirled around and went after Carl with his fists, swinging randomly, punching thin air. Carl deflected each blow and delivered a couple of his own.
Incensed, Derrick raged at him again and fell flat to the ground. When he stood, he had a knife. The steel blade glinted in the light of the cars’ headlights.
The crowd gasped, and someone called foul, but neither man paid any heed.
Candy screamed, certain Carl was about to be seriously injured, and all because of her. She’d been so stupid. She should never have come to the dance. She didn’t belong here. Didn’t belong anywhere.
Carl straightened, wary of the weapon.
Derrick taunted him with the knife, jabbing it at Carl in jest, laughing as if he thought himself clever. A low, disapproving murmur came from the men and women gathered around the two men. One thing was certain, Derrick wasn’t making any friends.
Candy wasn’t sure how Carl did it, but the next thing she knew, Derrick was on his knees, holding his crotch with both hands and groaning. The knife that he’d used seconds earlier was now in Carl’s hands.
It had happened in the blink of an eye. She had seen Carl raise his foot and noted the general direction it traveled. Then the knife flew into the air and seemed to disappear.
The crowd stood in speechless wonder as Carl handed the blade over to Ronald Bader. “I’ll trust you to properly dispose of this.”
“Yes, sir,” Ronald said, looking grateful.
Having dispensed with the weapon, Carl searched the crowd and stopped looking when he found Candy. A path was cleared as he stepped toward her. Everyone seemed to be waiting and watching for what he’d do next.
With the entire Grange community looking on, he walked over to her and reached for her forearm.
“You’re coming with me,” he said evenly.
How dare he speak to her this way. “I most certainly am not.”
“You don’t have any choice,” he announced in the same cool, measured tone. “I just won you fair and square. From here on out, you’re mine.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“MORNIN’,”ZANE MUTTEREDas he sat down to breakfast.
