Nothing but Trouble

by Beverly Barton

  Picking up her yellow terry-cloth robe, Tallie slipped her arms through the sleeves and tied the belt. What she needed was something soothing to drink. Hot tea. No, hot chocolate. The chill of the May night and the cool wooden floor beneath her feet reminded Tallie that she hadn’t put on her house shoes before she’d made her way across her bedroom and out into the hallway.

  Tallie flipped on the light switch in her pristine white, but hopelessly cluttered kitchen. She glanced out the row of long, uncovered windows onto the moonbeam-kissed backyard, the trees and grass gilded with sheer gold, the black sky encrusted with countless sparkling stars.

  Tomorrow was the trial. Her trial. She’d kept her promise to Peyton to stay out of trouble and not bother him, but she had missed seeing him and couldn’t help wondering if he’d been out with Donna Fields every night.

  Even though Pattie Rand had assured Tallie that Donna was not her competition, Tallie wasn’t so certain. Even if Donna and Peyton weren’t in love, it didn’t mean they wouldn’t get married. People married for all kinds of reasons, and not always for love.

  Tallie removed the box of hot-chocolate mix from the cupboard, filled a red ceramic mug with tap water and placed it in the microwave. Even if she and Peyt weren’t meant to be together, it didn’t mean she didn’t want him to be happy, to love and be loved.

  A tight knot of pain formed in Tallie’s stomach at the thought of Peyt in love with another woman. Oh, she knew there had been other women in his life, plenty of women, but he’d never been in love with any of them. She supposed that somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d always hoped that someday he’d look at her and realize that he loved her the way she loved him.

  Yeah, sure, Tallie. When pigs fly! Besides, you’re better off without Peyt. The man is a control freak, a real bossy-butt and know-it-all. As nothing more than your friend, he tries to run your life. He thinks you’re wasting your life working at the garage with Mike instead of going back to college for a degree.

  “But he doesn’t understand that college bored me to death, that I love trucks and cars, owning my own business, being my own boss,” Tallie said out loud in the stillness of her kitchen.

  The microwave beeper sounded. Removing the mug, Tallie mixed the chocolate with the hot water and stirred the contents until it was smooth. She pulled out one of the white chairs from the table and sat down on the red-checked cushion adorning the seat. Taking a sip of her hot cocoa, Tallie sighed.

  Peyton Rand. Their paths really never should have crossed. If the Senator hadn’t been a hunter and fisherman, the Rand brothers wouldn’t have met Claude Bishop’s grandchildren. Tallie’s brothers wouldn’t have become close friends with Peyt and Spence. Tallie never would have got a teenage crush on the handsome elder Rand son, the one who always took time to pay attention to the tagalong little sister.

  She had made such a fool of herself when she’d been sixteen and professed her undying love for Peyt. He’d been unbelievably kind when he rejected her, assuring her that someday she’d really fall in love and the man she loved would be the luckiest guy on earth.

  Tallie laughed. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Dammit, stop that, she chided herself. There are more serious matters to concern you than the fact that Peyton Rand isn’t in love with you. Tomorrow you’re going on trial for shooting Cliff Nolan.

  Sheba entered the room, Solomon not far behind her. The gray tabby curled herself around Tallie’s leg, a soothing caress as if in sympathy. “Yeah, Sheba, I did it this time, didn’t I? Of course, it should help matters that Cliff was kicking around Richie and Whitey and that he didn’t even have to stay overnight in the hospital when Doc Hall finished picking out that birdshot.”

  Solomon looked at Tallie, his big brown eyes surveying her with what she knew was understanding. Tallie believed that animals possessed a sixth sense when it came to people, that they were in tune with the humans who loved them.

  “You know me better than anyone, don’t you, Sol? You know I’m scared, and you know I’m afraid that after the trial, Peyt really will wash his hands of me.”

  She wasn’t sure which worried her the most, the possibility of actually going to jail or the threat that this time Peyt finally had gotten enough and would walk away from her and never look back.

  Tallie raised the mug to her lips. The telephone rang. She glanced at the clock on the stove. Eleven-fifteen. Who would be calling at this time of night? Mike was on tow-truck duty this week.

  The phone continued ringing while Tallie made her way into the living room. She picked up the receiver off the wooden corner desk.

  “Hello.”

  “Tallie, this is Loretta Nolan.” The woman’s voice trembled. “Please...please help me.”

  “What’s wrong, Loretta? Has Cliff hurt you again?”

  “I...I’m ready to leave him, Tallie. Please...oh, dear God, please...”

  Tallie clutched the phone with white-knuckled ferocity. “Is he there? Does he know you’re calling me? Are you and the kids safe?”

  “He’s been here...and...gone. The kids are okay. Just scared.” Tallie could hear the tears in Loretta’s voice. “He gave me a black eye and busted my lip, but I’m okay.”

  “You get whatever you want to take packed, and I’ll be over to pick y’all up as soon as I can.”

  “Tallie, I ain’t never coming back to him. He...he threatened to... I’m afraid for the kids.” Loretta’s voice broke on a choked sob.

  “It’ll be all right. I’m on my way.” Tallie hung up the receiver and rushed through the house into her bedroom.

  Thank you, Lord. Thank you for making Loretta see the light before Cliff killed her or one of those precious children.

  Tallie jerked off her robe and sleep-shirt, then pulled on a pair of jeans and an oversize, long-sleeved plaid shirt. While slipping into a pair of tennis shoes, she suddenly remembered her promise to Peyton. She’d promised him that she’d stay out of trouble.

  But this wasn’t her trouble; it was Loretta’s. Would Peyton understand? Would he be upset that the night before her trial, the trial for shooting Cliff Nolan, she was helping the man’s wife and children escape from him? Surely, Peyton would understand. He couldn’t want Loretta to continue living with a man who made her every waking moment a never-ending nightmare?

  Once dressed, Tallie returned to the telephone in the living room, dialed the number she knew by heart and waited.

  “Hello?” Peyton said.

  “Peyt, this is Tallie. I’m sorry to bother you so late, but...well...I have a slight problem.”

  “It’s less than twelve hours until your trial starts,” Peyton told her. “Couldn’t you solve this problem on your own without involving me?”

  “Of course I can!”

  “Then why call me?”

  “Because I promised you I’d stay out of trouble, and I thought it only right for me to call and warn you that what I plan to do tonight might create more problems for me with Cliff Nolan.” Tallie came close to hanging up at that precise moment, but she knew it would only infuriate Peyt, and she needed him on her side in that courtroom come morning.

  “What are you planning to do tonight?”

  “I’m on my way over to pick up Loretta Nolan and her children. She’s finally come to her senses. She’s leaving Cliff, and she wants my help.”

  “Good God!”

  “There’s nothing you can say that will stop me. So don’t waste your breath.”

  “Is Cliff Nolan at home?” Peyton asked. “Will you be running into him when you go over there?”

  “Loretta said he was gone.”

  “Then go get her and the children right now. Bring them back to your house. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

  “Are you saying...do you mean you approve?”

  “Keep your doors locked. Keep Solomon on alert and have your shotgun loaded. Do you hear me, Tallie? This is going to infuriate Nolan.”

  “There’s no need for you to drive all
the way here from Jackson tonight—”

  “Tallie, I’ll make a few phone calls. Loretta needs to be in a safe house, somewhere Cliff can’t find her.”

  Tallie nodded, then realized Peyt couldn’t see her. “All right. There’s a place in Marshallton.”

  “You go get Loretta and the children. I’ll make arrangements from my car phone on the way to meet you.”

  Tallie wished Peyton were within touching distance. She’d throw her arms around him and kiss the living daylights out of him. “Thank you. You’re one in a million. You know that, don’t you?”

  “So are you, Tallie. So are you.”

  * * *

  Peyton stood in the doorway, darkness from the long corridor behind him. Only a dim light from the lone lamp illuminated the small room where Loretta Nolan tucked her two younger children into a half-bed. Richie Nolan, tall and reed-thin, stared at Tallie, his pointed little chin trembling as he held back tears.

  “Y’all will be safe here,” Tallie said. “I’ll call every day, but I won’t come around for a while, just in case Cliff tries to follow me.”

  “Thank you.” Loretta still knelt beside the bed where her hand rested atop the covers sheltering her babies from the cool night air. “I should have listened to you a long time ago, Tallie. If I had...”

  Tallie gazed into Loretta’s moist blue eyes, all the while trying desperately to avoid staring at the bruises on her face or the dried blood on her lip. Tension coiled inside Tallie, a fierce anger at the cruelty one human being could inflict on another. How could a man harm the woman he claimed to love?

  “The past doesn’t matter.” Tallie took a deep breath, then tried to smile. The effort created a gripping pain at the top of her throat.

  “I’ll never forget what you and Mr. Rand have done for me and my kids.” Loretta pulled herself to her feet, wincing when she put weight on her left leg.

  “You don’t owe us anything, Mrs. Nolan.” Peyton slipped his arm around Tallie’s waist. “But you do owe yourself and your children a better life. The people here can help you, and so will Tallie and I, in any way we can.”

  “I’ll be in touch soon.” Tallie could not resist the temptation to lean against Peyton, to rest her weary body against the solid strength of his powerful frame. Dear Lord, what would she do without him?

  Running the few feet across the room, Richie threw his arms around Tallie, clinging to her legs. “I love you, Tallie. I love you for stopping Daddy from hurting me and Whitey.” Tears streamed down the child’s heart-shaped face. “You...you take care of Whitey for me. He’s a good dog.”

  Peyton released his hold on Tallie. Dropping to a squat, she reached out and wiped the tears from Richie’s eyes with her fingertips. “I’ll make sure Whitey is taken care of, don’t you worry.” Tallie promised herself that she would find Richie’s dog a loving home.

  Loretta walked over, pulled her son away from Tallie and circled his frail body with her thin arms. Mother and son looked at Tallie, their tired, haggard expressions brightening with gratitude. “If I’m needed to testify tomorrow, I’ll come to the courthouse,” Loretta said.

  “No, you musn’t do that.” Tallie hadn’t once given a thought to Loretta testifying against her husband. “You hadn’t planned on calling her as a witness, had you, Peyt?”

  “I think we can handle the situation without you, Mrs. Nolan. It will be better for you if your husband has no idea where you and the children are.” Peyton felt fairly certain that in Clayburn Proctor’s court, Tallie Bishop’s word against Cliff Nolan’s would be sufficient defense.

  Peyton touched Tallie’s back. She tensed. When he leaned down to whisper in her ear, she shuddered.

  “Let’s go. Let Mrs. Nolan and the children settle in.” Peyton slid his hand down to Tallie’s waist and gave her a gentle nudge.

  Tallie took one final glimpse, forcing a goodbye smile on her lips. Without looking back, she allowed Peyton to lead her out into the hallway. Once the door closed behind them and they’d made their way almost to the front door, Tallie pulled away from Peyton and leaned her head against the wall. Tears welled up inside her. Her slender shoulders shook.

  Peyton felt her pain. He couldn’t bear to see Tallie suffering, and this tenderhearted, sentimental female took all the hurts of the world into her own soul. If only everyone cared the way Tallie did, there would be no injustices in this world and the only agonies would be the kinds beyond human control.

  He took her shoulders in his strong grasp, pulling her ever so slowly away from the wall, turning her until her bowed head rested on his chest. Damn, but she was tiny. The top of her curly dark head rested on his breastbone. He tilted her chin upward, making her face him. Tears moistened her warm brown eyes and dampened her soft pink cheeks.

  He wanted to kiss away her tears. “Don’t cry, sugar. Everything is going to be all right.”

  Sighing deeply, Tallie slipped her arms around Peyton’s waist, savoring the feel of his hard chest beneath her head, the rapid rise and fall as he breathed in and out, the steady beat of his heart. “Why, Peyt? Just tell me why? How can anyone inflict pain on anyone else, least of all someone they claim to love? A wife? A child? A helpless animal? I don’t understand.”

  Peyton rubbed her back, soothing her as he pulled her into a close embrace. “I don’t know. Psychiatrists would say that abuse is a vicious cycle. That it’s learned behavior. Cliff Nolan was probably abused himself.”

  “Then how on earth could he...” Tallie trembled, the shivers starting slowly in her hands and gradually spreading through her entire body. “I shot him, Peyt. I filled that man’s backside full of birdshot. I inflicted pain on him.”

  “Come on, sugar, let’s get out of here. I’m taking you home, now.”

  Half leading, half dragging her, Peyton escorted Tallie out into the cool, damp night, then into the warmth and security of his sleek, dark blue Jag. He checked her seat belt once he got behind the steering wheel. She sat in the bucket seat, her head resting against the cushioned back, her eyes closed. Peyton reached out, his hand hovering over her. Then he ran his fingertips down her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He stared down into liquid brown pools of temptation, eyes that spoke volumes, eyes that beckoned him to partake of forbidden fruit. He leaned closer. Tallie closed her eyes.

  Damn, he wanted to kiss her. Peyton jerked away, inserted the key into the ignition and started his car. What the hell did he think he was doing? He had never taken advantage of the way Tallie felt about him, and he sure wasn’t going to start now. Especially not when she was so very, very vulnerable.

  When the engine roared to life, Tallie’s eyelids shot open. What had happened? She’d been so sure Peyton was going to kiss her. She stared at him in the semidarkness, streaks of illumination hitting his face from the streetlights they raced past on their way out of Marshallton. Peyton’s gaze focused on the windshield, his profile a hard, chiseled line in the shadows, his jaw set tightly, his big body rigid.

  Tallie desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, to ease the tension she could see and feel. But she didn’t dare touch him and risk his icy glare, his cold words of rejection. She watched him as they rode along the highway, both of them completely silent.

  Peyt was beautifully masculine—from his deep-set blue eyes to his long, tapered nose, his wide, thin lips to his sharply squared jaw and the narrow cleft that cut his chin in half.

  Oh, yes, Peyton Rand was totally male. A modern warrior in a suit instead of loincloth or shining armor. Tall and broad-shouldered with a muscular lankiness reminiscent of Old West cowboys. But Peyt was no cowboy, no rugged man of the earth. He was as sleek and elegant as the car he drove, with as much power contained inside him as the Jag’s engine possessed. Peyt was a man accustomed to wealth and all the privileges that wealth afforded. He had been raised in the midst of great political and social power. He knew the rules by which those in control of the world lived, and he was an expert at playing the game. Men
feared Peyton Rand; women adored him.

  Tallie Bishop adored him. Since the first time she’d laid eyes on him, she’d considered him her secret love. And in all the years since, that one fact hadn’t changed. But he could never be hers. She could never exist in his world, live by his rules, change herself into an obedient, politically correct wife.

  Even if Peyt could learn to love her, even if he wanted her as his life’s mate, she couldn’t marry Peyt. Tallie was who she was, and she couldn’t change—she didn’t want to change. A woman with her background and her own set of values and morals would never fit in the superficial, favor-swapping, ass-kissing kingdom in which Peyton Rand was a young prince.

  Tears lodged in Tallie’s throat. She turned her head sharply, not sure she could control her emotions. And she didn’t want Peyt to see her crying again. She’d leaned on him too much tonight. He probably thought she was the silliest, weakest, most sniveling female he’d ever known.

  Swallowing the knot of emotion choking her, Tallie stole a glimpse of Peyt. He kept his eyes glued to the road. Tallie looked away, then quickly glanced back at him. His light tan suit was slightly wrinkled, the jacket unbuttoned and hanging free on each side of his broad chest. His mauve linen shirt was buttoned all the way to the top, but he wore no tie. His appearance bespoke a casual elegance few men could ever achieve. How could the man look so incredibly gorgeous in the middle of the night?

  Turning her head slightly, Tallie gazed out the side window, staring into the blackness of the night, seeking solace from a world she could not understand and from a man she dare not love.

  Peyton wanted to strike out at someone or something. He clutched the steering wheel tenaciously. This was an intolerable situation, one he’d thought he could control—one he had controlled for quite some time. He wasn’t sure when he’d first realized he wanted Tallie Bishop. It wasn’t something that had struck him like a bolt of lightning; instead, it had sneaked up on him and he’d been powerless to stop it.