“You were lovers, weren’t you? And she still wants you.”
Peyton tossed Tallie onto the sofa, got up and walked across the room to stand in front of the empty fireplace. “All right, you want to know, I’ll tell you. Noreen and I were lovers for a couple of months nearly ten years ago. I didn’t love her. She didn’t love me. Harold and Betty thought we’d make a perfect couple and they started talking marriage.”
“And that’s when you ended the relationship?”
“Tallie, you know there have been other women in my life. Not a lot, but several.” Peyton rubbed his chin as he paced the floor. “None of my relationships have been serious.”
“You considered asking Donna Fields to marry you,” Tallie reminded him.
“Briefly. I knew that Donna would make a perfect political wife, and I like and admire her as a person. In all honesty, Tallie, there’s something about Donna that reminds me of you.”
“There is?”
“She’s a loving, caring person, but I never could have married her and ruined both our lives. One thing I’ve learned about myself the last few months is that I am not going to become a carbon copy of my father. I’m not going to ruin other people’s lives out of selfishness.”
“If you married me, I’d make sure you walked the straight and narrow. Your life would never turn out like your father’s if I were your wife.” Suddenly, Tallie realized that she had just proposed to Peyton.
“Marriage, huh?” Marriage to Tallie would certainly keep his life from being dull, and she’d be sure to control any undesirable tendencies he’d inherited from Marshall Rand. And she would sleep in his bed every night.
“It might not look as bad when that photo of you socking Noreen shows up in the papers tomorrow if people thought you were defending your future wife’s reputation.”
“I think I could be persuaded to marry you.” Peyton held out his open arms. “Why don’t you come here and convince me.”
Tallie didn’t budge off the sofa. “I think you may be a little confused, Counselor. You’re the one who’s going to have to do the convincing. So far in this relationship, I’m the one who’s made all the compromises. I’m the one who’s been chasing you for years. I’m the one who’s said I love you. I’m even the one who’s done the proposing.”
Peyton dropped his arms to his sides. “What are you getting at, Tallie?”
“If you marry me, look at what you’re getting. I’m attractive, intelligent and good in bed. Right?”
“Right.”
“I’m loyal, trustworthy and a real asset to you. Harold Glover thinks my enthusiasm for causes could be a plus for you, and Donna Fields pointed out that I can save you from your biggest fear—becoming just like your father. Am I correct?
“Yes, you’re correct.”
“I gave you my virginity.” Tallie paused when she noticed Peyton glaring at her. “Well, I did! And I love you. I’ve never loved anyone else.”
“I concede that you possess sterling qualities, that you’re a rare and precious gem, that I probably don’t deserve you.” Peyton walked over to her, then knelt down in front of the sofa. “Is that what you wanted to hear, Tallie?”
“It’ll do for starters.” She couldn’t make this easy on him; if she did, it would only hurt their relationship in the long run. She wanted all or nothing. Peyton was capable of so much more than he was offering. She knew the only way he would ever be able to escape his father’s legacy and come to her a whole man was for her to force the issue.
He took her hands in his, bringing them to his lips for a kiss. “I’m practically down on my knees. Is that what you want, sugar? A proposal on bended knee?”
She smiled. He returned her smile. “That would be nice.”
“All right.” Peyton shifted around, kneeling before Tallie, still holding her hands. “Tallulah Bishop, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“What can you offer me, Peyt?”
Taken aback by her question, Peyton stared at her in disbelief. “What can I offer you?”
“Yes.” Tallie pulled her hands out of his, stood up and looked down at Peyton. “I’ve told you what I can offer you. What can you offer me? You can’t offer me your virginity, but I’m willing to overlook that fault if—”
Rising to his feet in one swift motion, Peyton grabbed her by the shoulders. “You’re willing to overlook that fault if what?”
“If you tell me that you love me, that you’ve never loved anyone else the way you love me.” She bit back the tears stinging her eyes, burning her throat.
“You want me to tell you that...” He had never told anyone that he loved them. Love had not been a word in his father’s or grandmother’s vocabularies. Duty. Social position. Success. Money. Those were Rand words. Words by which to plan your future. Words to live by. But love? How could he tell Tallie that he loved her when he wasn’t sure he even knew what love was?
“Is the question so difficult?” she asked, knowing full well that Peyt would have to fight the demons within him and win the battle before he could profess his love.
“Tallie, you know how I feel about you. Just being near you drives me crazy. All I can think about is you, being with you, kissing you, making love to you. I’ve asked you to marry me. Isn’t that enough?” He tightened his hold on her shoulders.
“No, Peyt, it isn’t enough.” Jerking away from him, she walked toward the bedroom, pausing briefly in the open doorway. “I’m going to change back into my dress. Then I want you to drive me home.”
“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay. I want us to be together.”
“But I don’t want to stay,” she lied. More than anything, she wanted to run to him, throw her arms around him and tell him that he didn’t have to tear his soul apart to find the courage to love her. But for his sake as much as her own, she would not make it easy for him.
“You want me to say that I love you?” He stomped across the room, stopping only a few inches from her. “I’m a lawyer. Words are part of my business. I can talk my way out of any situation. If you want to hear the damned words, then I can say them.”
“And when you say them, will you mean them?”
“Dammit, Tallie, why are you doing this?”
“Take me home, Peyt. Then you can think about me and yourself and your past and our future. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be in Crooked Oak waiting for you when you figure out that you love me.” Tallie went into his bedroom, discarded his robe and slipped into her slightly damp black dress.
Ten
The first thing she’d done when she awoke after a fitful night of restless sleep was rush outside for the newspaper, expecting to see the photograph of Peyton slugging Noreen Ellibee on the front page. There was no photograph, and the only mention of Peyton Rand and Tallulah Bishop had been in connection with their attendance at the Glovers’ party, and that the two were now a “couple.”
Tallie had been tempted to call Peyt and ask him how he’d kept the picture or any mention of the incident out of the paper. She wouldn’t, she couldn’t do that, she’d told herself. Sooner or later, he would contact her, and she could ask him if her suspicions were correct. Undoubtedly, Harold Glover possessed the power to control the media, enough to protect not only his stepdaughter but his good friend and the future governor.
Peyton hadn’t contacted Tallie until eleven that morning when she had received a card along with an enormous bouquet of lilies and roses. The card read, “I want to see you tonight.”
She had called him immediately, but had gotten his answering machine. She’d left a message, telling him that she would be waiting.
The rest of the day had gone by in a blur of activity for Tallie. She’d cleaned her house from top to bottom, straightening, dusting, mopping, vacuuming, rearranging. She’d shopped for steaks and a bottle of expensive wine. And she’d splurged on another new dress. A pink cotton sundress with an indecently low-cut neckline. No matter what happened tonight, she w
anted everything to be perfect. Even knowing that Peyton might tell her that he didn’t love her, she wanted to be prepared for the alternative—for the words she had waited most of her life to hear. She would not allow herself to dwell on the possibility that she had pushed Peyton too far with her ultimatum.
When she’d returned from her shopping trip, the message light on her answering machine blinked brightly. Peyton had called to tell her that he would arrive around seven-thirty.
She had taken Solomon into town with her, always aware of the necessity for his protection. When they’d returned home, she’d left him outside lying on the front porch, with Sheba asleep in the swing.
She checked the mantel clock in the living room. Seven o’clock, and she was ready. She’d taken a bubble bath, washed and dried her hair and splashed on the hundred-dollar-an-ounce perfume Caleb had sent her for her last birthday. The steaks were ready to grill, the potatoes baking in the oven and the salad greens prepared.
Music. Music and candlelight. Even though it was still daylight outside, the sun lay deep in the western horizon, slashes of summer orange and pink coloring the evening sky.
She put on her favorite Ricky Van Shelton tape, placed two tapering candles on the dining-room table and walked over to the open front door to gaze out at the winding road leading to her house. Soon. He’ll be here soon, she told herself. And you’ll know whether or not your gamble paid off.
“You’re mighty dressed up, sexy gal.”
Tallie froze to the spot when she heard the voice behind her, then turned quickly to come face-to-face with Eric Miller, a shiny .38 revolver in his hand.
“Surprised to see me?” He stood only a few feet away, his face flushed, his eyes bloodshot, a two-day growth of beard on his face. “Looks like you’ve got yourself all dolled up for pretty boy.”
“How did you get in here?” Tallie backed up toward the front door, easing her hand behind her, trying to grab the handle. Solomon, who obviously heard Eric’s voice, scratched at the door, growling.
“I picked the lock on your back door while you and that monster dog of yours went into town.” Eric staggered toward her.
Tallie grabbed the storm-door handle, hoping to make it outside, away from Eric and to Solomon. Just as the door began to open, Eric reached around Tallie, slamming it shut and then locking it.
“Get that damned animal calmed down or I’ll have to shoot him!” Sliding his arm around Tallie’s waist, Eric shoved her up against his chest and laid the gun across her stomach.
“Quiet, Solomon,” Tallie ordered. “Stay, boy. Stay.”
Solomon sat upright, resting on his haunches. He continued whining for a few minutes, but when Tallie reiterated her order, he quieted, but stood watch just outside the closed glass door.
“Now, you and me are going to wait for your date.” Eric slammed Tallie down on the sofa, then sat down beside her, clutching the gun in his hand.
“How do you know I have a date?” Tallie asked.
“You forget that I broke in while you was gone off buying yourself a new dress and fancy wine for pretty boy. I’ve been hiding in that big old closet over there.” Eric pointed to the closet at the front end of the hallway. “I heard Rand’s message when he called.”
“Why did you break in, Eric? What...what do you want?”
He clutched Tallie’s face in his big, sweaty hand, squeezing her cheeks. “What do I want? I want you, Tallie. Peyton Rand ain’t the man for you, sexy gal. I am. I tried to get him out of your life before and I thought I’d done it, but no, you had to go get yourself all tied up with him again, didn’t you?”
“What do you mean you tried to get him out of my life before?” Tallie’s stomach quivered. Her hands dampened. She took several deep, calming breaths.
“I planned how I’d do it. It’d look like old Lobo or Cliff Nolan was out to get you.” Eric slid his hand down Tallie’s neck, circling her throat. “I stole some old codger’s truck down in Mississippi, and as luck would have it, he had him a brand-new gun in the glove compartment.”
“You...you shot Peyton?” Not Lobo Smothers. Not Cliff Nolan.
“I ain’t much of a shot, but I thought I could wound him pretty bad or maybe even kill him if I got lucky.” Eric drifted his hand downward until it rested just above Tallie’s breasts, which swelled above the low-cut neckline of her sundress. “I didn’t figure on how hard it would be to drive the truck and shoot at the same time.”
“You were drunk, Eric. You didn’t know what you were doing. Folks will understand.”
“Ain’t nobody going to know.” Eric slipped his thumb down inside Tallie’s dress, rubbing back and forth between her breasts.
She tried to move away, but Eric caught her, his meaty hand grabbing her by the back of the neck. “Once I get rid of Rand tonight, you and me are going on a little trip. A sort of honeymoon trip.”
Tallie had no idea how she could escape from Eric, but she knew one thing for sure, she wasn’t going to allow him to kill Peyton Rand. “We...we don’t have to wait for Peyt.”
“Sure we do. I don’t want nobody standing between you and me.” Eric ran his stubble-rough chin against Tallie’s soft cheek.
“You and I...we could leave now. Go away. Just the two of us. We don’t have to wait.”
The distinct purr of the Jaguar’s engine alerted both Eric and Tallie to Peyton’s arrival. Solomon let out a low moan, never moving from his position on the porch.
Eric forced Tallie to her feet, twisting her arm behind her back. “We’re going to go meet your lover boy.” Eric held his gun in the hand he placed across Tallie’s stomach.
Shoving her ahead of him, Eric positioned Tallie just to the side of the glass door, where Peyton wouldn’t be able to see her from the front porch.
“When he knocks, tell him to come on in,” Eric said.
Tallie looked down at the gun. Eric turned it away from her, aiming it toward the front door.
“Run, Peyt! Get out of here! He’s going to shoot you!”
Throwing Tallie aside, Eric lunged at the door, barreling outside onto the porch.
Tallie picked herself up off the floor, flung open the storm door and rushed out directly behind Eric.
When he’d heard Tallie’s screams, Peyton had managed to step to one side before Eric came crashing through the door. With only seconds to act, he lifted his foot high enough to trip Miller, who fell facedown onto the porch. The force of the fall knocked the breath out of Eric and loosened his hold on the revolver. Peyton kicked the gun out of Eric’s hand. The weapon whizzed across the wooden floor and dropped off into the yard.
Winded but not unconscious, Eric hauled himself up, his big hands knotted into fists. “I’ll kill you with my bare hands, pretty boy. It would have been quicker with a gun, but I just might enjoy this a whole lot more.”
Peyton caught a glimpse of Tallie, wide-eyed and pale, standing beside Solomon. Eric lunged at Peyton, who landed a blow right into Eric’s jaw. Reeling from the hit, Eric staggered, then swung at Peyton. Within minutes, the two men had exchanged several blows, Peyton knocking Eric into the yard. Although not as heavy as Eric, Peyton outmaneuvered him, finally landing a punch that knocked him to the ground.
Tallie ordered Solomon to attack, then rushed to retrieve the gun from where she’d seen it fall. Baring his sharp teeth, Solomon dashed past Peyton, plunging onto Eric, going directly for his throat.
Tallie held the gun in her trembling hands as she walked down the porch steps, Sheba following her. She called off Solomon, whose teeth had already broken the skin on Eric’s neck. The Great Dane halted his attack, then stood guard over his prey.
“Eric’s the one who shot you.” Tears blurred Tallie’s vision. “It was never Lobo or Cliff Nolan. Eric wanted you out of the way so he could have me.”
“Here, sugar, you’d better let me have that.” Peyton took the gun from Tallie. “You’ve saved the day, little heathen, now go call Lowell and let him take this big, dumb a
pe off our hands. I’ll keep Mr. Miller company until the sheriff gets here.”
* * *
With a cuffed Eric Miller in the back seat of Deputy Whitson’s car, Lowell Redman instructed his officers to take their prisoner to jail.
Peyton held Tallie in his arms as they watched the car head down the driveway and toward the road. Feeling the tremors still racking Tallie’s body, Peyton hugged her close, depositing tiny, comforting kisses on her forehead.
“I sure never thought Eric Miller was the man who shot you,” Lowell said, lifting his hat off the porch swing. “Cliff Nolan’s disappeared again. I guess he’s off hunting Loretta. And Lobo will be standing trial pretty soon. He should get a little jail time. So it looks like we can stop worrying about Tallie’s safety.”
“I’ll never stop worrying about Tallie’s safety.” Peyton touched her cheek with his fingertips. “But once she’s the first lady of Tennessee, she’ll be well protected at all times.”
Jerking her head around, Tallie gazed up at Peyton, her mouth falling open when she saw the smile on his face.
“So that’s the way it is, huh?” Lowell placed his hat on his head. “Doesn’t surprise me a bit, and it won’t come as a shock to folks in these parts. Everybody’s known for years that you two were meant for each other.”
“Well, it’s come as a surprise to me,” Tallie said. “Peyt hasn’t even proposed to me yet.”
“Well, I’d best be on my way so he can pop the question. Y’all can come down to the office in the morning. No need to bother coming by tonight.” Lowell stepped down off the porch. “If you do run for governor, Peyt, you know you’ve already got everybody’s vote in this part of the state. And once the rest of the state meets Crooked Oak’s Tallie Bishop, you’ll get their vote, too.”
Not waiting to see Lowell off, Peyton lifted Tallie in his arms, eager to find a moment’s privacy with her. Sheba jumped up on the porch swing, curling herself into a contented ball. Solomon spread out directly in front of the door.
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