by Jenny Penn
“I certainly did, but then I divorced you and moved on to better things. I suggest you take the hint and move on yourself.”
Richard hesitated, and Bryant could sense him weighing his options. He chose the best one and simply nodded before turning and storming off. Bryant watched him go, not believing for one moment that the man was actually backing down. Not when there were hundreds of millions at stake.
Whether she knew it or not, Tara was in serious danger. Bryant wouldn’t let anything happen to her, though. He vowed that right then and there as he took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze.
“That was excellently done, but we’re going to be late for church if we don’t get a move on.”
“Yeah,” Travis agreed, casting a quick glance at his watch and grimacing. “The moms are not going to be pleased.”
“Moms?” Tara perked up in alarm at that. “Whose moms?”
* * * *
Tara didn’t know how she’d gotten herself into her current predicament. It seemed like her life was spinning completely out of control. Maybe she should have been worried, but it was hard to focus on anything with the chaos erupting all around her. There were women and children and men spread all around. They were talking, grilling, cooking, playing, watching TV, challenging each other to games she’d never even heard of.
There was this one that they seemed to all love, which involved trying to throw sacks into a hole carved in wooden boxes. Tara had never even heard of it before, but then again, her family affairs were a good deal more sophisticated and, frankly, boring. They didn’t compare at all to the Blacks' and Grovers’ traditional Sunday get-together.
The mayhem unfolding around her didn’t compare to anything she’d ever experienced, though Tara might have been a little better prepared if Bryant and Travis had warned her what she was getting into. All either one of them had said was that their families were close and liked to get together.
What they left out was that each family had to be twenty-plus people strong. There were parents, grandparents, siblings, uncles and aunts, nieces and nephews, from the age of eighty down to eight months old. Everybody knew everybody, leaving Tara as the only one who didn’t know anybody.
Of course that had changed within minutes of meeting both Bryant’s and Travis’s mothers. The two women seemed especially interested in Tara and had taken it upon themselves to introduce her to everybody. That had been before church. After church, they’d all convened back at Bryant’s parents’ ranch house, which wasn’t nearly big enough for everybody. That was where Tara had been handed a bag a carrots and a knife.
She wasn’t sure what to do with either.
That was how she came to be standing there staring at a bag of carrots as the whole world seemed to be exploding around her with noise and commotion. That was how Bryant found her, standing in the middle of the kitchen like a speed bump that slowed down everybody else as the moved all around her. Tara caught his gaze and looked hopelessly at him as he burst into a smile.
“A little lost, sunshine?”
That was an understatement, but Tara nodded and lifted up the bag of carrots. “I have to cut these.”
Bryant blinked that in, his grin growing. “You’ve never done vegetables before, have you?”
“No,” Tara admitted reluctantly, feeling like she was admitting to a dark secret. “The cook always did the cooking.”
That got a laugh as Bryant took both the knife and the carrots from her. “Then allow me to educate you, my dear. First thing we need is a cutting board.”
It took five minutes for him to grab a board and clear a space at the kitchen table, but then he was showing Tara how they peeled and sliced the carrots. That was how Travis found them a few minutes later when he came in.
“Hey, man, what happened to the beer?” Travis paused by the table to frown down at the cutting board, where Tara was slowly, methodically, slicing her way through one long carrot. “That’s not how you do that, sunshine. You’re supposed to julienne them.”
“Julie-what?” Tara blinked, freezing in her seat. “Am I doing this wrong?”
“You’re doing just fine,” Bryant rushed to assure her, his big hand coming to rest on her shoulder in a protective gesture.
“She might be,” Travis allowed as he started around the table. “But her instructor obviously doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
“Are you two boys fighting?” Bryant’s mother, Peggy, appeared by the table to frown down at the two men with a stern look that Tara recognized instantly.
Her mother may not have been the type to dress up in an apron and run around the kitchen in a mad frenzy of cooking, but she knew how to give a look of disapproval as well, if not better, than Peggy. At least, with her own mother, the look had always been cold. With Peggy, there was a warmth to the frown and a twinkle in her eyes that belied her stern words.
“Don’t you be picking on each other now. You know the rules.”
“Share.” Bryant nodded, clearly biting back a grin.
“And share alike,” Travis finished off as he settled down next to Tara. “Don’t worry, Peggy. We know the rules.”
There was an undercurrent to Travis’s words that not even Peggy could miss. She shook her head at both of them before turning a critical eye on Tara’s carrots. Tara knew in an instant that her cuts were not up to snuff, but Bryant’s mom had proven herself to be way too nice to be mean enough to say so.
“Well, aren’t those beautiful?” Peggy smiled at her. “They’re going to make the salad look especially good today.”
“Thank you…Peggy.” It felt weird to call Bryant’s mom by her first name, but the woman had insisted.
“You’re very welcome, Tara.” Peggy shot her a big smile that held a hint of true approval before she cast a pointed gaze at Travis and Bryant. “And you just holler out if these two get to be too much.”
“I will,” Tara promised and then watched along with both men as Peggy scurried back off to assist one of Bryant’s cousins with the gravy she was stirring up. Tara watched for a second before turning toward Bryant and offering him a smile. “Your mother is really sweet.”
“She’s a mother.” Bryant shrugged as if that title alone explained everything. It didn’t, but Tara didn’t want to get into her own miserable family relations right then, so she just nodded.
“I take it your own mother is not too much into cooking, huh?” Travis asked, and Tara nodded.
“She knows how to direct staff, though.”
There was a moment of silence between the three of them before they all burst out laughing. That really wasn’t funny, but it felt like it in that moment.
“Well, that explains the carrots.” Travis sighed as his chuckle finally subsided, earning a groan from Bryant.
“Oh, for God’s sakes. Like Mr. Microwave over there has any right to judge.”
“Hey, man, pot and kettle,” Travis shot back, referring to the old saying about pot calling the kettle black. “You’re the one who nukes eggs.”
“So do you,” Bryant shot back.
“Yeah, but at least I know how to cook,” Travis defended himself. “I just choose not to.”
“Pot and kettle, man,” Bryant retorted with a smirk. “Pot and kettle.”
Travis waved that away and pulled the cutting board toward him. “Here, sunshine, let me show you how it’s really done.”
That arrogance, of course, provoked a lot of comments from Bryant as he critiqued and criticized Travis’s technique. It wasn’t long before others were joining them at the table, all arguing over the proper way to cut carrots. In the end the poor carrots were butchered into so many different shapes and sizes that the salad ended up looking like a child had lent a hand.
Nobody complained, but many laughed. That didn’t bother Tara. It wasn’t as if they were laughing at her so much as laughing with her. She did a lot of that as Bryant and Travis continued to stay close and assure that she blended in easily with their large clans.
<
br /> That had the rest of the day passing by in a happy blur. It was a good day. She learned not only how to cut vegetables but to play several games she’d always heard of but never had a chance to try, like canasta and cornhole. She turned out to be surprisingly good at throwing beanbags into the little wooden boxes spaced twenty-seven feet apart.
Tara made it into the final rounds, alongside Travis, who gave a whoop and slapped a big kiss on her when he won. Bryant kissed her, too, right there in front of everybody, making Tara blush and glance quickly around, but nobody seemed to either notice or care that she’d kissed both men.
That certainly wouldn’t have been her family’s response. Just the opposite and that was what greeted Tara when Bryant and Travis drove her back to the pool house to collect some clothes before taking her home. Before they reached the back patio, though, the maid was there informing her that her uncle wished to speak with her.
Bryant and Travis told her to go on and tell her uncle that she was moving out while they gathered up her stuff. Tara wasn’t convinced that was the greatest idea, but in the moment, she had no alternative.
With a sigh and nod and complete sense of dread, Tara followed the maid back into the main house and headed for her uncle’s den, where she found him once again scowling at her from behind his desk.
“Tara, please, come in and have a seat.”
She obeyed out of habit but sat stiffly in her chair, her hands clasped tightly before her. “You wanted to speak to me?”
“I wanted to ask if everything was all right.”
Tara blinked, not having expected that kind of concern. “Everything is going fine, why?”
“Because I’m concerned about you,” her uncle began in an ominous tone. “You seem…different lately.”
“I feel different.” She felt happy but didn’t dare say that to him right then, concerned where this conversation was leading.
“Yes, and that has me concerned.” Her uncle took a deep breath as if bracing himself before he continued. “The rest of the family and I… We fear you are making questionable decisions.”
Tara blinked that in, a sick feeling twisting through her stomach. While all she wanted to do was flee this conversation, something held her there as she pressed her uncle for what he was really trying to say.
“About?”
“About everything,” her uncle answered instantly, appearing shocked that she even had to ask. “This whole working thing, and the people you’re running around with… Richard told me what happened.”
“He did?” Tara somehow doubted that he’d told the truth. “Then he told you how he tried to force himself on me?”
“He tried to kiss you,” her uncle corrected her with undeserved impatience. As if he had been there. “Let’s not exaggerate.”
“I’m not,” Tara insisted.
“I fear that you are.” Her uncle sighed as if he actually regretted anything that was happening. “And that you are being unduly influenced by the two deputies you’ve taken up with. They’re not good people, Tara. Surely you realize that.”
“No.” Tara shook her head, refusing to accept her uncle’s opinion as anything other than a lie. The people she had spent the day with were all good. They were a hell of a lot better than her family. “You’re wrong.”
“I’m not,” her uncle countered instantly before revealing the lies Richard had been fueling him with. “They attacked and threatened Richard. Is that the act of good men?”
“They did not.” Tara felt her face flushing and her ears heating as she became emotionally upset on behalf of Bryant and Travis. “If that’s what Richard told you, then he lied. He was the one being an ass.”
“He’s the one who saved you!”
“From what?” Tara didn’t need saving. She needed to be left alone.
“From yourself,” her uncle answered softly before drawing himself up as if he were some kind of judge about to hand down an unfavorable decision. “And I’m afraid that your parents and I are in agreement on this.”
Tara narrowed her eyes on her uncle, sensing now that things were taking a very dangerous turn. “Agreement on what?”
“I’m afraid that you are not in a condition right now to make decisions for yourself.”
Even as her uncle spoke, Tara was rising up, the screaming in her head fueling a sense of sudden, desperate outrage as her uncle continued on.
“We’re going to petition the court for conservatorship,” her uncle finished softly.
“Conservatorship?” Tara repeated, certain she knew what that word meant but unable to comprehend it in that moment. “Over what?”
Her uncle looked up and met her gaze squarely as he answered simply. “You. The trust.”
Tara didn’t even know what to say to that. All she could do was stare at her uncle as his words sank in with the power to leave her shaking and uncertain of what to say. There was nothing. Her family had declared war on her. There was only one response to that declaration. Tara turned and walked away.
Chapter 14
Travis knew something bad had happened the minute Tara appeared. She was walking fast, shaking slightly, and looked pale enough that he normally would have asked her if she’d seen a ghost. Her expression assured him, though, that jokes were not called for at that moment.
A hug was.
Without a word, Travis opened up his arms, and Tara walked straight into them. He didn’t ask what was wrong. It didn’t really matter. All that Travis cared about was that somebody had upset his sunshine. That person would pay once he and Bryant undid the damage they’d done.
Travis made that vow silently as he pulled back to glance down at Tara and asked what he knew was a stupid question. “You all right, sunshine?”
“No.” Tara shook her head slowly as she lifted pleading eyes to his. “I just want to leave here…and never come back.”
“Then I guess it’s good for you that we managed to fit all your stuff into the back of the truck.” Travis had actually been a little worried she’d get up upset, but it wasn’t anger that flashed across Tara’s features. It was shock.
“You what?”
“We’re all packed and ready to go,” Bryant declared, clapping his hands together as he came wandering back up the path from the driveway. “You two ready… Oh, honey, what happened?”
Bryant’s tone turned from happy to sad in an instant as he narrowed his gaze on Tara, who just shook her head.
“I’m not ready to talk about it,” she stated simply, and both men accepted that.
“Okay then.” Bryant nodded as he stepped up to take Tara’s hand and pull her out of Travis’s embrace and into his as he offered her a quick hug. “When you’re ready, sunshine, we’re here to listen.”
That earned him a grateful smile that Travis encouraged as he threw an arm around Tara and began leading her back toward the truck. “And until then, we’ll talk about whatever you want to, like how it is a woman like you doesn’t have that much stuff.”
Tara smirked and shrugged, allowing him to lead her without any hint of hesitation. “I’m not a big shopper.”
“No? Well, it looked like you were shopping for a house,” Bryant commented before offering up an explanation. “We saw all your papers.”
That seemed to do the trick, as Tara’s face lit up. She eagerly took to talking about what her plans for the future were. She wanted to promote up to a director of something in the country government and buy a big old southern house and grow a garden and have a pool. Her list went on from there, showing that she really was accustomed to having the kind of money to support big dreams.
That didn’t bother Travis. His own dreams might have been simpler, but they weren’t that different from Tara’s. He hoped to make it to sheriff one day. He wanted a big house too, but that was because he planned on having a big family. After all, family was everything.
And it was also a nightmare. At least, in Tara’s case it was. That became clear later that night. After they’d
gone several rounds with Tara in just about every room of the house, they ended up sprawled in a naked tangle across Bryant’s bed. By then Tara normally passed out, but that night she slowly grew tenser between them before finally she began to share her worries.
As Travis listened to what her uncle had threatened, he grew more and more angry. He tried not to let it show, knowing that Tara needed help, not outrage. The first thing he and Bryant could help with was getting her a lawyer.
“You can?” Tara lifted up onto her hands to glance down at Travis when he offered up that suggestion.
“Of course,” Travis returned without hesitation. “Don’t you remember meeting Henry, my cousin Wanda’s son? He’s one of the best criminal defense lawyers around. I’m sure he knows somebody.”
“And if not, Cal will,” Bryant chipped in, drawing Tara’s confused gaze in his direction.
“Who is Cal? Did I meet him today, too?”
“Nah,” Bryant shook his head as he pulled Tara back down into his arms, settling her against his chest as he continued his explanation. “Cal’s the county district attorney. He’s the best and knows the best.”
“And you think he’d help? Because he might be friends with my uncle.”
“Please.” Travis snorted as he curled up along Tara’s back, snuggling her into his arms so that she was cocooned between both Bryant and his body. “Your uncle doesn’t have friends, and Cal would be glad to help. It wouldn’t be anything to ask him tomorrow. After all, we’re working a case with him.”
“A case?” Tara asked around a yawn, as she appeared to finally be settling back down.
“I’m sure you heard about Gwen Harold’s murder,” Travis answered absently as he began to rub a hand down her arm, amazed as always by how soft her skin was. What he didn’t expect was for her tense beneath his touch. “Is something wrong?”
“I…I didn’t realize you were working on that case,” Tara whispered hesitantly, sounding far from relaxed now and causing Travis to roll backward. He pulled her with him, so he could stare down into her face and read the apprehension growing in her expression.
