Terms of a Texas Marriage

“The first lease term was renewed by Cyrus Hardin, Shea’s great-grandfather. The second term, currently in effect, is due to expire at the end of this month—in five days, to be precise. Ms. Hardin would like to retain possession of the property. Mr. Morreston has indicated a desire to reclaim it for his own use. This can be achieved only if Ms. Hardin has not, or does not meet all of the renewal requirements by the end of the month.”

Shea glanced at Alec Morreston and once again encountered the full intensity of his gaze. A powerful energy emanated from him, the full force of it focused directly on her. She swallowed hard and looked away, ignoring the increasing tempo of her pulse.

“We didn’t inspect the house and outbuildings,” Mr. Long advised without preamble. “But we are satisfied that everything appears in satisfactory condition. We concede all stipulations relating to the condition of the property have been met.”

Shea closed her eyes as relief washed over her. Reaching out to Ben, she squeezed his arm and then looked at Mr. Long and Alec Morreston. So grateful they’d been honest in their findings, she even managed to send a stiff smile of thanks in his direction. He hesitantly tipped his head as if to say you’re welcome, but she couldn’t help but notice the raised eyebrow and the hint of a smirk in the hard lines of his face, almost as if he knew something she didn’t.

Shea returned her attention to Ben. He wasn’t smiling, and didn’t appear to share in her feeling of relief. No one switched off the tape recorder. No one stood up. It was as though a silent warning had begun to flash in a quickly ascending elevator, indicating the bottom was about to drop out.

“In addition to the condition of the property,” Ben said, still not meeting her glance. “Apparently the ancestors of Ms. Hardin and Mr. Morreston believed it necessary to add what I would describe as a personal clause.”

“Personal clause?” Frowning, Shea began to page through her copy of the old, handwritten document.

“On page four, about two-thirds down the page.” Ben removed his glasses and put down the paper as if he could recall the words from memory. His voice was quiet, his manner unusually gentle. “It states in addition to the actual upkeep, if the renewal of the lease is awarded to a woman, she must be legally wed by or before the expiration of the lease.”

Her head snapped up, staring at Ben’s face.

“What?” Her jaw dropped in astonishment. She frowned, not understanding or wanting to believe the implications of what she’d just heard.

“It further states—” Ben again donned the thick glasses and raised his chin, a motion that enabled him to use the lower, bi-focal portion of the lenses. “‘If the female lessee has no husband or betrothed, the oldest adult male, unmarried, in the Morreston family will be joined to her in matrimony, legally and spiritually, and they shall live as husband and wife for a period of not less than one year to ensure her protection against any and all perils, assist her with all ranching endeavors and ensure she is given fair and equal consideration.

“‘The failure of either party to meet these terms will result in the forfeiture of the property to the other. If a marriage does occur between the principal parties, such marriage can be terminated at the end of one year, and at such time the land will go to the Hardin family for another ninety-nine-year duration.’”

He sat back in his chair and tossed the documents onto the tabletop. “You gotta love the Morreston family chivalry.”

Silence momentarily filled the small room.

“For what it’s worth, Shea,” Ben said, “I’d guess the families were very close, and this was their way of ensuring the safety of any woman who might be single and head of household when the lease expired. As you know, it used to be a man’s world and a woman by herself didn’t have much of a chance. The one year marriage provision was probably intended to ensure she had full support with the ranch. If either didn’t want to stay married after that, they wouldn’t be required to do so. Ironically—” his eyes narrowed as he looked at Alec Morreston “—the clause was probably intended to protect any female of the Hardin family from the crooks who might try and take advantage of her.”

The only reaction from Alec Morreston was a deepening of the tiny lines around his eyes, a silent indication he found amusement in Ben’s assessment.

“But...” Leaning forward, she placed her elbows on the table for support and rubbed her fingers against her temple, willing her brain to click back into gear. “You’re saying...You’re telling me the lease can’t be renewed because I’m a single woman?”

“If I may,” Thomas Long interjected. “What it means, Ms. Hardin, in the simplest terms, is that in order for you to renew the lease you must currently be married or you must agree to marry Alec within the next five days and remain married for at least one year. If you don’t agree, the lease cancels. If Alec does not agree to such a marriage, should you choose that option, the lease will be renewed.”

For a few moments, speech was impossible. Her eyes remained fixed on Mr. Long as her mind tried to make some sense out of his words. She was stupefied.

“You’ve got to be kidding. This is a sick joke. It’s archaic.” Although attempting to remain calm, her resolve was quickly slipping away. “This kind of thing isn’t legal.” She looked at Ben, who sat quietly, tapping his pencil on the tabletop. “Is it?”

Ben hesitated for a few seconds as if trying to formulate his answer. “As far as I’ve been able to determine, the owner of the property could place any clause, requirement or restriction in the lease that he wished within the existing laws of the time. If the lessee agreed, it became a binding agreement. As to the question of whether it’s binding by today’s laws, it may very well not be.”

Hope flared within her.

“But the problem is, if we sue to have that clause stricken, the courts could declare the entire contract null and void, in which case Mr. Morreston is under absolutely no obligation to renew the lease. And, if the courts didn’t find the clause unlawful, by the time they handed down their decision, the deadline would be past. Either way...” Ben made a small gesture with his hands, his palms turned upward, indicating the hopelessness of the situation.

Shea sat back in her chair and stared out the large picture window. How could such a beautiful spring day suddenly turn so bleak and ugly? She trained her eyes squarely on Alec Morreston.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he replied, his voice deep and throaty. “Thomas caught it and advised me a couple of months ago. You might want to ask your attorney why he didn’t see fit to inform you. Since he was obviously aware of your single marital status, it might have saved all of us a lot of time.”

Her glance swung to Ben, who shrugged and shook his head. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I thought Mr. Morreston would view the outlandish clause for what it is. It never occurred to me he’d use it to his advantage to try and reclaim possession of the land.”

“I don’t believe it,” she muttered. “I don’t believe any of this. Are you all trying to tell me I’ve got to take this...insanity seriously? That I’m going to lose my home, my ranch, everything my father and his father before that worked for, because I’m not married and won’t marry him?”

The tone in her voice clearly painted the “him” as something disgusting and vile—which, at that moment, was spot-on. In spite of his sexual charisma, her conscious mind told her Alec Morreston was nothing more than a cold-blooded opportunist. And as far as this...lease...how could anyone in his right mind possibly make up such a stipulation?

“Your loss was taken into consideration, Ms. Hardin.” Alec pointedly ignored her outburst. His composed voice resonated through the thick silence that had temporarily blanketed the small room. “I’m willing to provide reimbursement for the structures on the property, including the house, as well as compensate for one year’s ranch income. And, of course, the proceeds from the sale of your livestock and equipment will be yours, provided you choose to sell rather than relocate.”

Shea glared at him, afraid to speak for fear it would release the torrent of fury welling up inside her. Comparing this man to the devil had been much too kind.

“In addition,” Morreston continued, “I’m willing to provide adequate time for you to find another residence. We understand the relocation process will take longer than the standard sixty days.”

“Alec is making a most generous offer, Ms. Hardin,” added Thomas Long, as though he felt compelled to point that out.

Ignoring the attorney, she focused directly on the source of this insanity, on the devil incarnate. Sitting casually back in his chair, he appeared relaxed and completely indifferent to what amounted to the end of life as she knew it. Her basic principles, her education, her future dreams, pride in her family—all of it rested within the boundaries of the ranch. She couldn’t imagine what her life would be without it.

“Why are you doing this?” Her voice was firm and unwavering, but her heart pounded and her stomach tied itself into knots.

“It’s nothing personal, Ms. Hardin.” He tipped his head to one side as his eyes roamed over her face. “It’s just business.”

“Oh, really?” she challenged. “That’s what you call it? Destroying a person’s life is ‘just business?’” She shook her head in amazement. “You must think you’ll make a small fortune on this deal.”

“That’s always a possibility,” he admitted, shrugging his broad shoulders.

“I’m curious. What’s it going to be? A dude ranch for your city friends or cheap housing that will fall apart in ten years?”

“I don’t think Alec’s future plans for the land need discussion at this—”

“It’s good land in a prime location,” Alec answered her, interrupting his attorney. “And the time for its development has come.” His eyes never left her face, his tone hard and unemotional.

She couldn’t help but speculate if they would have been having this meeting if her dad were still alive. But common sense told her Morreston wanted the land and would have found other reasons to decline the renewal. This little “personal clause” was convenient and tailor-made to suit his purposes.

“You could omit the clause and renew the lease.”

“I could,” he admitted openly. “But I won’t.”

Silently she studied the hard, chiseled features of his face.

“Then there is no more to say, is there?” Standing, she gathered her papers and slipped them into the manila folder. She wouldn’t grovel before any man, especially some arrogant stranger from New York, particularly when she knew it would do no good. Her hands were trembling due to shock, but she refused to let these contemptuous strangers see any weakness.

“Ben.” She pressed her lips together to cover the trembling. “I assume you’ll be in touch about what needs to be done?”

On seeing his nod, she gave a tight smile and walked out of the room. Somehow, she cleared the outside door without slamming it. Only when she reached the sidewalk did her vision blur with unshed tears of anger and frustration. Seven months ago, she’d buried her father. And now, in the space of less than an hour, she’d learned she was losing her home.

She swallowed back the overwhelming sense of panic. The ranch was her haven, her security. It was her past as well as her future. Her father had entrusted it to her care and she’d promised him in his final moments that his efforts—and the efforts of all the Hardins before them—would not be in vain.

She was the last, the only one remaining, who could carry the Hardin legacy into tomorrow. Two hundred years of struggle and sacrifice, of unwavering strength, bravery and determination by her forefathers to fashion a better life from this small piece of earth, and now, the future rested squarely on her shoulders. The weight of it was staggering.