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The Wilde Bunch
Barbara Boswell
Contents
One
“Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong?” The Reverend Will Franklin shook his head, frowning. “I’m afraid I can’t agree with you on that, Mac. It’s too cynical, too pessimistic.” He set down his coffee cup and leaned forward, his expression earnest. “It doesn’t leave room for the power of—”
“Positive thinking,” Macauley Wilde interjected. “I know, I know. I read that book you lent to me. And I tried thinking positive thoughts when Brick was expelled for a week for fighting after only one day at his new school. I tried positive thinking when Lily sneaked out of the house and stayed out all night. I tried to think positive when little Clay and his ‘gang’ broke into the high school and liberated all the white mice from their cages in the science lab and got himself suspended. I tried—”
“I know how difficult it’s been,” Reverend Will cut in. He did not want to be converted to Mac’s cynical, pessimistic viewpoint. At this rate, he might well be. “Your brother Reid’s children have had an—uh—difficult adjustment to life here in Bear Creek.”
“They haven’t adjusted at all,” Mac said grimly. “And they don’t intend to. They’re maniacs, Rev. Sometimes they’re blatant, sometimes they’re subtle, but each child is maniacal in his or her own different way.”
“I won’t deny that the four of them are...uh...difficult.” The reverend cleared his throat. He was aware that he was overusing the word difficult, but it was the most tactful adjective available to him. A man of the cloth should not use words like monstrous, heinous, atrocious. Especially not when describing children. “Anyway, I wasn’t speaking of the power of positive thinking. I meant to say the power of prayer.”
“Religion doesn’t apply to those kids. Unless you’re talking exorcism.”
“I know you’re only joking, Mac.” Reverend Will smiled uneasily. “You’ve always had a keen sense of humor.”
“Rev, I’m not laughing. Those kids have been with me for less than six months and something’s got to give. When they arrived in June, I figured they’d have all summer to settle in and be ready for school in September. Wrong! Things became exponentially worse. Now it’s mid-October and I’m desperate. We can’t go on like this.”
The reverend tensed. “Are you thinking of giving them up to the state?”
“Ha! The state won’t take them. Since they’ve been here such a short time, Montana thinks they should be returned to their native state of California which says, ‘oh, no, not our problem anymore.’ The surrounding states—Idaho, Washington, Oregon—have already warned that their borders are sealed and not to even think of trying to dump those kids there.”
“Hyperbole.” Reverend Will chuckled appreciatively. “Most telling. But I understand the point you’re trying to make, Mac.”
“That the Wilde kids are notoriously incorrigible and have invoked terror in every child welfare worker unlucky enough to cross their path?”
“No. That you intend to keep Reid and Linda’s children, no matter what. I admire your courage, Mac. I mean, your dedication,” Reverend Will corrected himself hastily, his neck flushing. “Your resolve.”
“They’re my flesh and blood, Rev.” Mac sighed. “I loved my brother and I was genuinely fond of Linda, too, even though I tended to see things differently from them.”
“Most people saw things differently from Reid and Linda,” Reverend Will said tactfully. “It’s just too bad that you didn’t get the children immediately after the death of their parents. The year they spent with your brother James and his wife Eve was quite...unfortunate. I think most of their problems stem from that—uh—difficult time.”
“Amen, Rev. I know I wouldn’t want to live with James and Eve, either. I offered to take the kids then, but James and Eve insisted they should be the ones to raise them, as they’re a ‘solid marital unit.’ That’s how they refer to themselves.” Mac grimaced. “They pointed out that since I had been a partner in a defective marital unit, it would be detrimental to bring children into my inadequate broken home. They considered me unfit to raise kids, until they decided they couldn’t stand the little monsters. Then it was ‘off you go to Uncle Mac’s, even though he’s divorced, defective and inadequate.’”
“James and Eve undoubtedly meant well, but they are—” Reverend Will paused to cough discreetly. “Difficult.” There was that word again. But it wouldn’t do for a man of the cloth to use judgmental terms like self-righteous, self-satisfied and petty to describe that solid marital unit of James and Eve Wilde.
“And you are not a failure because your marriage didn’t work out, Mac. You and Amy were too young when you married, you both wanted different things and you grew apart.” The minister shrugged. “Unfortunate, but it happens. What shouldn’t happen is to let a mistake which happened long ago keep you from committing to another permanent relationship.”
“Uh-oh. Here it comes. Your semi-annual ‘find yourself a nice girl and settle down’ sermon.” Mac held up his hands, as if to ward off the words.
“At the risk of sounding like James and Eve, promoting themselves as a solid marital unit, I would like to point out that having a woman in your house would certainly add some stability to the environment. Not to mention a sense of family and permanence which I think those four unfortunate children desperately need.”
“I knew you were going to say that!” Mac stood and began to pace in front of the big granite fireplace. The head of a moose, complete with a spectacular set of antlers, was mounted above it. “And here’s the kicker, Rev. I actually agree with you. I swore I was through with marriage after that fiasco with Amy, but I know I can’t
