Nothing but Trouble

by Beverly Barton

  Caught short by what he’d just thought, Peyton wondered if he really meant it. Did he want to become Tallie’s lover more than he wanted a future in politics, more than he wanted to be governor of Tennessee?

  “Damn you, Tallulah!” He pulled her into his arms, jerking her up off her feet momentarily, then sliding her down his aroused body, allowing her to feel how hard he was.

  “Peyt?” She clung to him, questioning and yet accepting, eager and yet afraid.

  “Don’t talk, sugar. Don’t say anything.”

  His mouth covered hers with a raging hunger, hot and wild and all-consuming. He had wanted and needed and gone without for far too long. When Tallie opened her mouth with ardent anticipation, he plunged into her warmth, capturing her tongue, exploring her as his hands roamed over her back and down to her hips.

  Damn, nothing had ever tasted as sweet as Tallie’s warm, moist mouth. Nothing had ever felt as good as her soft body pressing into his.

  He couldn’t get enough of her. The musty, honeyed scent of her feminine heat surrounded him, enticing him, luring him closer and closer to the edge.

  He cradled her hips in his hands while he spread kisses down her throat and onto her flesh exposed by the scooped-out neckline of her dress. “Stop me, sugar. Don’t let this happen.”

  How could she stop him when this was what she’d longed for, what she’d dreamed of, what she’d prayed would happen? She wanted Peyton Rand. She had never wanted another man, had never given herself to anyone else, waiting and hoping that someday Peyt would become her first lover.

  “I don’t want to stop you,” she said, clinging to him, urging him to continue.

  “No promises beyond tonight,” he told her, all the while lifting her into his arms, preparing to carry her inside to the nearest available bed.

  Her mind heard and understood what he’d said; her heart refused to listen, building fantasies of happily-ever-after.

  Just as Peyton reached out for the storm-door handle, he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, then turned slightly in order to look down the narrow road leading to Tallie’s house. Bright headlights met his gaze head-on as the thundering rattle of an old truck roared closer.

  “Who is it?” Tallie asked, her arms still circling Peyton’s neck, her body resting against him where he held her securely in his arms.

  “I can’t see. Could it be Mike?”

  “His truck doesn’t make that kind of noise. Besides, he’s on tow-truck duty tonight.”

  Solomon and Whitey rounded the side of the house, both dogs barking loudly.

  Peyton put Tallie on her feet, but kept his arm around her waist. The two of them took several tentative steps toward the edge of the porch. The battered truck slowed down a fraction as it approached the house, but the driver’s identity was not discernible, only the fact that he was male and wore his cap pulled down, the bill obscuring the upper part of his face.

  “I don’t recognize the truck,” Tallie said. “Maybe somebody’s lost and wants directions.”

  Tallie pulled away from Peyt, moving toward the truck as it approached, prepared to be of assistance to the driver. But the driver didn’t stop in front of her house; instead, he swerved his truck around. Peyton saw the gun in the man’s hand, the porch light reflecting off the metal.

  “Get back, Tallie!” Peyton shouted the moment he saw the gun was aimed in her direction.

  Without giving his actions a thought, Peyton threw himself into Tallie, knocking her to the ground. The gunshots echoed in his ears as he covered Tallie’s body with his own. The truck sped away, stirring up a cloud of dust.

  Whitey and Solomon ran behind the departing truck, their loud barks heard distinctly over the clanking chug of the old vehicle’s engine.

  He lay heavily on top of her, protecting her with the armor of his body. She gave him a gentle nudge. If he didn’t move soon, she wasn’t going to be able to breathe.

  “Peyt, I’m all right.” When he didn’t respond, she shoved him with a bit more force.

  He rolled off her and over into the grass. Tallie rose on all fours. “Hell’s toenails, Peyt, somebody just tried to shoot me!”

  When Peyton’s only response was a groan, Tallie leaned over him, noticing the pained expression on his face. In a panic, she ran her hands over his face, his neck and shoulders. Her quivering fingers encountered a warm, wet fluid. She jerked her hand away and held it up, seeing the dark red stain.

  “Oh, dear Lord, Peyt. He shot you.”

  “Not too...bad,” he whispered so softly Tallie barely heard him. “Call—”

  “I’ll call an ambulance.” Tallie leaned over closer to his mouth so she could hear him better. “Are you hit anywhere else besides your shoulder?”

  “Left side.”

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, forcing herself to leave him. “I’ll call an ambulance and then Lowell Redman. Oh, Lordy, Peyt, who would have done such a thing?” The instant the question sprang from her mouth, two suspects came to mind. Two people ruthless enough and filled with enough hate to want to see Tallie Bishop dead. Cliff Nolan and Lobo Smothers.

  If only she’d gotten a better look at the man. But it had happened so fast and it had been dark inside the truck cab.

  Tallie ran into the house, making the necessary phone calls as quickly and calmly as she possibly could. Within minutes, she’d returned to Peyton’s side, placing a couch pillow under his head and covering him with a crocheted throw she’d jerked off the back of her rocking chair.

  “The paramedics are on their way.” She sat down on the grass beside Peyton, taking his hand in hers, whispering that everything would be all right.

  Whitey lay down near the porch steps. Solomon rooted his nose against Tallie’s arm.

  “It’s all right, Sol.” Tears streamed down Tallie’s cheeks. “Peyt’s going to be fine. Just fine.”

  “Don’t cry, little heathen,” Peyt said, squeezing her hand. “All that matters...is you’re safe.”

  Tallie’s heart shattered into a thousand pieces. If anything happened to Peyt, she wasn’t sure she could bear to go on living.

  Five

  Tallie paced the floor. Having checked the wall clock every few minutes, she knew Peyton had been in surgery only an hour, but it had seemed like days. Now that he was in recovery, the waiting was almost unbearable. Although the emergency room staff had assured her Peyton’s gunshot wounds were not life-threatening, she could not erase the thought from her mind that he might die. And it would be her fault. Whoever had shot Peyton had been aiming at her.

  Pattie Rand placed her arm around Tallie’s shoulder. “Come on and sit down for a few minutes. You’re wearing me out just watching you.”

  “They’ll send a nurse out to tell us when we can go in to see Peyt,” Spence said. “My big brother wouldn’t want you tearing yourself up over this. He’s fine. Dr. Hall said the bullets didn’t hit anything vital. No permanent damage.”

  Pattie led Tallie over to a green vinyl sofa, tugging her downward until she sat. “Peyton will be out of the hospital in a few days, and until he is, we can shower him with flowers and balloons and more female attention than he’ll want.”

  “Did you call Donna Fields?” Tallie asked, knowing full well she didn’t want the other woman anywhere near Peyt.

  “I’ll phone her in the morning.” Pattie glanced at her watch. “I guess it’s already morning, isn’t it? I’ll call her by seven, before she leaves for work.”

  “Maybe I should have called her right after...I mean if circumstances were reversed, I would have wanted her to call me.” Tallie covered her face with her hands, rubbing her eyes, massaging her forehead. Then she ran her fingers through her tousled hair.

  “Look, there’s Lowell.” Spence walked to the entrance of the surgery waiting room where Sheriff Redman stood, hat in hand.

  Tallie jumped up, then stopped abruptly. Lowell had followed them to the hospital after giving specific instructions to his deputies at
the crime scene. The crime scene. Dear Lord, the very sound of those words sent chills through Tallie.

  She knew she’d been too distraught over Peyt’s condition to talk sensibly to Lowell, to answer his questions coherently. All she remembered was that Spence had told her Lowell was going back to her house in Crooked Oak to make doubly sure no evidence was overlooked.

  Pattie stood beside Tallie. “Are you up to answering the sheriff’s questions now?”

  Lowell came across the room slowly, speaking quietly to Spence as they approached Tallie. “I really need to ask you about the shooting.”

  Swallowing, Tallie nodded her head. “What do you want to know?”

  “Can you tell me exactly what happened? What you saw? What you heard? Anything that will help us find the person who shot Peyton?”

  “Come on, Tallie, sit down. You’re trembling all over,” Pattie said.

  Pulling away from Pattie’s supportive hold, Tallie walked across the room to the windows overlooking the parking area. She sucked in her cheeks, biting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.

  “We were on the front porch,” she said, her voice soft but calm. Far calmer than she felt. “We heard a truck. It was loud and noisy. I thought maybe somebody was lost and needed directions.”

  “The shooter drove a truck?” Lowell asked. “What kind of truck? Make? Model?”

  “I’d say it was a ‘72 Ford. It was probably blue once, but the color had faded. There was a lot of rust, and somebody had tried to spray paint it in spots with some white paint.”

  “That’s one of the best vehicle descriptions I’ve ever heard.” Lowell put his hand on Tallie’s shoulder. “Didn’t happen to notice the license plate, did you?”

  “I didn’t see a tag on the truck.”

  “Did you get a look at the person or persons in the truck?”

  Swallowing her tears, Tallie turned to face Lowell. “There was only one person in the truck. A man. A fairly big man, I think. He wore a cap with the bill pulled down over his forehead. It all happened so quickly and the only light was the porch light. It was dark inside the truck cab. I couldn’t see the driver.” Tallie trembled, her hands shaking so badly that she clutched them together.

  “It’s all right.” Pattie reached out and took Tallie’s hands in hers. “The worst is over. Peyton’s going to be just fine.”

  “Did you recognize anything about the man?” Lowell asked.

  “No. Nothing.” Tallie held tightly to Pattie’s hands. “I didn’t even see the gun until it was too late. Peyt saw what was happening and shoved me out of the way.”

  “Are you saying that the man was trying to shoot you?”

  “Yes, I think he was. Don’t you see,” Tallie said, “Peyt saved my life. He took the bullets that someone meant for me.”

  A tall, slender nurse appeared in the doorway. Her name tag read Crowler. “Is there someone here from the Rand family? Mr. Rand is awake.”

  Tallie rushed toward the nurse. “How is he? Is he in pain? Can I see him now?”

  “Are you a member of the family?” the nurse asked.

  “We’re all family,” Spence said, nodding toward Tallie and then Pattie.

  “I’m afraid three of you can’t go in at once. Perhaps two.” Nurse Crowler turned, motioning for the family to follow her. “I’ll take you to Mr. Rand.”

  “Come on, Tallie.” Spence placed his open palm on Tallie’s back.

  “But...I...I...”

  “Something tells me that you’re the person Peyt wants to see,” Spence said.

  “If she’s Tallie, then she’s most definitely the person he wants to see.” Nurse Crowler didn’t miss a step as she led them down the hallway. “He’s been calling for her ever since he regained consciousness. He seems quite concerned as to whether or not she’s all right.”

  The tears Tallie had been able to hold in check for the past hour could no longer be contained. When they streamed down her cheeks, she brushed them away with her hand.

  Peyt was worried about her. That crazy, wonderful man had risked his life to save hers, and his first thought on awakening from surgery had been about her safety. She didn’t think she’d ever loved Peyton Rand more than she did at this precise moment. If only there was some way she could prove to him just how much.

  Peyton lay on pristine sheets, his big body connected to a series of tubes and wires. His face appeared slightly pale, considering his tanned complexion, but his dark blue eyes were wide open and staring directly at Tallie.

  She couldn’t stop herself from rushing to his bedside, from leaning down and touching his face with her fingertips, from pressing her lips against his cool forehead.

  “Oh, Peyt...Peyt. I...”

  “Hey, sugar, you aren’t going to fall apart on me, are you?” Peyton reached up and touched her hair, then speared his fingers through it, adjusting her head so that he could reach her lips. His kiss was quick and hard and filled with life.

  “I’m fine, Peyt. Just fine.” She glanced over at Spence. “Aren’t I, Spence? I gave Lowell Redman all the information I could, and he’ll find the man who shot you.”

  “I’d say he should start with Cliff Nolan, then check out Lobo Smothers. The guy looked a bit too big for Nolan, but I’m not sure. It was so damned dark.” Peyton motioned for his brother. “Until I’m out of here and can take care of things, I want you and Pattie to keep an eye on Tallie for me.”

  “No problem,” Spence said.

  “Yes, there is a problem.” Tallie pulled away from Peyton. “The last thing I want is for the Rand family to get any more involved in this situation than they already are. My God, Peyt, you’re lying here with two holes in your body because I’ve made an enemy out there who wants to see me dead.”

  “All the more reason you need protection.” Peyton tried to sit up.

  Tallie pushed him down gently. “Don’t move around. It’s not good for you.”

  “When you leave the hospital today, I want you to go home with Spence and Pattie,” Peyton said.

  Tallie picked up Peyton’s hand, fingering the tube leading to the IV solution hanging above the bed. “I don’t want you involved in this. I can’t bear the thought of your getting hurt again. Whatever’s going on, I brought it on myself by interfering in somebody’s business, and we both know it.”

  “Tallie—”

  “You’re not going to sacrifice any more for me. Do you understand what I’m saying?” She loved Peyton. She would not allow him to put his life or his political career in jeopardy because of her.

  “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” Peyton said. “Whatever I have to do to protect you, I’ll do it.”

  “It’s not fair for you to risk your life because somebody has a grudge against me.”

  He squeezed her hand with more strength than either he or Tallie imagined he possessed. “Something happened with us last night. We can’t pretend it didn’t.”

  Tallie cut her eyes in Spence’s direction, wondering what on earth he thought about Peyt’s comment. “Nothing happened, except you got shot. Twice.”

  Peyton grinned. Tallie blushed. Spence laughed.

  “What time is it?” Peyton asked.

  Spence checked his watch. “Nearly five-thirty.”

  “God, I’m hungry,” Peyton said. “Would you believe it? Wonder when they serve breakfast around here.”

  “Probably not before seven or eight,” Spence said. “But if you’re really hungry, I can run out and pick up some biscuits for you. For all of us. Are you hungry, Tallie?”

  “What?” All she could think about was the way Peyt was holding her hand, so tightly, so possessively, as if he never intended to let her go.

  “I want two steak biscuits and some coffee,” Peyton said. “What do you want, sugar? Some cinnamon-raisin biscuits? I know you love cinnamon.”

  Tallie had no idea how Peyt knew she loved cinnamon. She’d never dreamed that he paid such close attention to her likes and dislikes. �
�That’ll be fine.” Tallie tried to pull away from Peyton, but he held fast. “I could go with Pattie and get breakfast.”

  “You stay here with me.” Peyton tugged on her hand until she sat down on the bed beside him. “You’ll probably have to sneak the food past the nurses. They’ll tell you that I can’t have any decent food yet.”

  “Leave it to me, big brother.” Spence waved goodbye.

  “I could use another kiss,” Peyton said. “It’s good medicine for me.”

  “What happened to you in that operating room?” Tallie asked. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “You saw me like this last night.”

  “Nothing’s changed for us, has it? I mean, we’re still bad news for each other, aren’t we?” Tallie’s heart raced at breakneck speed.

  “Things have changed. I could have died. Those shots could have killed me.”

  With tears blurring her vision, Tallie stared at Peyton’s somber face. Her unsteady fingers reached out, tracing the hard, chiseled planes of his cheekbones and jaw. “If anything had happened to you... Oh, Peyt, I can’t help the way I feel about you.”

  “Come here, sugar.” He urged her closer until his lips brushed hers. “Last night when you were in danger, my only thought was of saving you. Nothing mattered but you. Do you understand what I’m saying? Obviously, I can’t help the way I feel about you, either.”

  “How...how do you feel about me?” She felt his heated breath caress her face. She wanted to kiss him.

  “Damned if I know for sure.” He laughed, his gaze filled with warm humor. “I care a hell of a lot more than I want to.” When she tried to withdraw, he wouldn’t allow it. “I think maybe we owe it to ourselves to find out if we can have a relationship that won’t destroy us both.”

  “But you said we were nothing but trouble for each other.” His mouth was so close. Oh, Lord, if he didn’t kiss her soon, she was going to die.

  “That’s true, but regardless of that, we want each other. I thought I could just cut you out of my life, but, after last night, I know that’s not possible. Not as long as you want me as much as I want you.”