Nothing But Trouble

Peyton glanced over at Tallie. The late-afternoon sun caught in her raven hair, giving it a blue-black luster. She kept her dark curly hair cropped short, in an almost boyish style, but there was nothing boyish about that baby-doll face, those long, thick eyelashes, that full pink mouth. Damn, why couldn’t she have stayed skinny and flat-chested, the way she’d been at sixteen when she’d professed her undying love and he’d gently rejected her? Somewhere between the age of sixteen, when Caleb, the youngest of the Bishop boys, had left for college on a baseball scholarship and had asked Peyton to look out for his little sister, and the age of eighteen, Tallie Bishop had blossomed. Actually, she’d over-blossomed. Her body had filled out in all the right places, creating an hourglass-shaped body on a petite frame.

Peyton noticed the way her frayed blue jeans clung to her hips and legs. She wore a grease-stained short-sleeved chambray shirt, tucked beneath the waistband in the back and hanging loose in the front. Underneath the unbuttoned shirt, her full breasts strained against a faded yellow T-shirt. On a less well endowed woman, the clothes would have looked masculine. On Tallie, they looked damned sexy. And that was the problem. For the past eight years, men had been ogling Tallie, despite her tomboyish ways. She’d had her pick of most young bucks in the county, dating every good-looking Tom, Dick and Harry. On more than one occasion, she’d coldcocked some overzealous suitor. Trouble sought Tallie the way a moth seeks a flame.

And it wasn’t just the men who couldn’t take no for an answer that caused problems, it was Tallie’s constant interference in other people’s lives. He had to admit that she was a good citizen, working in her spare time as a volunteer fire fighter for Crooked Oak as well as a helper at the Humane Shelter. But more often than not, Tallie let her concern overshadow her better judgment. Case in point—filling Cliff Nolan full of birdshot. But there was always something. Her love for animals had gotten her into trouble with Lobo Smothers, an illiterate farmer suspected of illegal hunting and trapping. Tallie had been doing everything in her power to help the authorities catch him and put him in jail. Needless to say, she and Lobo weren’t the best of friends. And there were her endless efforts to get abused women to leave their husbands and start new lives. Cliff Nolan wasn’t the only husband in Crooked Oak who had a bone to pick with Tallie.

What the hell was Peyton going to do about her if he did decide to run for governor? There was no way the woman would ever change, and having his name linked with hers in connection to one of her wild exploits was bound to damage his image.

His image? His old man had always cared about the Rand family’s image, and it had been one of the things he’d despised about his father. If he did decide to enter politics, would he become more and more like Senator Marshall Rand? His father had died a lonely and unhappy man. Peyton didn’t want to follow in his footsteps.

“Ready?” Tallie asked.

Peyton stared at her, unaware until she’d spoken that she had approached the car. “All finished with Susan?”

“Ah...yeah...just some shelter business.” Tallie opened the passenger door, ordered Solomon inside and slipped into the seat.

Peyton didn’t like the way she’d answered him. She was hiding something. Tallie was so damned honest, the truth showed on her face whenever she tried to lie. Pink spots stained her cheeks. Getting into the Jag, he started the engine. “What sort of business?”

“Huh?”

“What’s up, Tallie?” Peyton backed out of the parking area. “If this is something that’s going to cause me any more problems, then let me hear it now.”

“What makes you think this has anything to do with you?” Sticking out her chin, Tallie crossed her arms under her bosom.

“If it’s not something that could get you into trouble, then why won’t you tell me?” Turning the car onto the highway, Peyton glanced over at Tallie and wished he hadn’t. Her slender, crisscrossed arms had boosted her full breasts up and out, reminding him of how truly female she was.

“An anonymous caller told Susan that he had information about where Lobo Smothers had set up some traps, out toward Kingsley Hill.”

Peyton groaned, then glanced over at Tallie. “Stay out of it. Give the information to Lowell and let him handle it.”

“I could do that, but it won’t do any good. Lobo Smothers always seems to be one step ahead of the law.”

“Lowell Redman is just newly elected. Give him a chance.”

“The last time I shared information with the sheriff’s department, they arrived at the scene to find no traps, and no Lobo. I told you then that Lowell’s got a rat working for him. I just haven’t figured out who it is yet, but I will.”

“Tallie, stay away from Lobo Smothers.” Peyton issued the command in a tight, controlled voice. “The man is dangerous.”

“All the more reason that he should be behind bars! Besides, rumor has it that Lobo is growing marijuana out there in the woods somewhere. If his abuse of animals won’t stir the law into action, maybe his being in the drug racket will.”

“Whatever Lobo Smothers is doing, let the law handle it! Dammit, woman, you’re in enough trouble. In another week or two, you’ll be going to trial for shooting a man full of birdshot. You do realize that if Lowell Redman wasn’t a friend and if Clayburn Proctor didn’t think you were a saint for saving his grandson’s life, you could do some serious jail time for what you did.”

“I was defending a poor, helpless child and a pitiful little dog from a monstrous brute.” Solomon growled as if agreeing with his mistress.

“Tallie, I’ve been getting you out of trouble for years now, and I’m sick and tired of it. I’ve tried to talk reason to you, but you refuse to listen.”

“There’s no need for you to waste any more of your valuable time, Peyton,” Tallie said, refusing to look in his direction. “Just drop Solomon and me off at the garage.”

“Fine. I’m probably running late, as it is.”

“Well, that’s just awful, isn’t it? You sure wouldn’t want to keep Donna Fields waiting.”

“No, I wouldn’t want to keep Donna waiting. Ladies like Donna are accustomed to a certain kind of behavior from the men they date...like being punctual for dinner.”

“Ladies like Donna?” Tallie turned in her seat, stretching the safety belt to its limit when she leaned toward Peyton. “A lady whose grandfather was governor and whose uncle is a federal judge? A lady professor with blue blood in her veins? My, my, a lady like that could do a lot for a man with political aspirations. Just think what a wife she’d make for someone with his eye on the state capitol.”

Peyton glanced at Tallie and then back at the road. He knew she was trying to goad him into a fight. She was implying that his only interest in Donna was her suitability, and he didn’t like to think he’d become so much like his father, he would consider marrying a woman just because she and her family could help him politically.

“Donna is a very special lady. I’ll have to introduce you to her sometime.” Peyton turned off the highway into the parking area for the garage and tow-truck company Tallie owned and operated with Mike Hanley and his sister, Sheila Vance.

“Spare me.” The moment Peyton killed the engine, Tallie opened the door. “I doubt Donna Fields and I have anything in common. Someone with blood as blue as hers would probably be offended by a little ol’ redneck like me.”

Peyton laughed at the thought of introducing Donna and Tallie. The funny thing was, he had the oddest notion that once they met, the two women would actually like each other. “Don’t count Donna short just because of who she is. She’s not a snob.”

Tallie got out of the Jag, then ordered Solomon to join her. “Well, you and Donna have a pleasant dinner tonight, and don’t you worry about me. There’s not one reason for you to bother with me again until my trial.”

“I hope you’re right,” Peyton said. “I’ll call you when Clayburn lets me know about the trial date.”

“Fine.” Leaving the door open, Tallie walked away, then stopped and turned around. “Thanks, Peyt. I...well, just thanks.”

“Tallie?”

“Huh?” She walked back over to the Jag. “Let Lowell Redman handle Lobo Smothers.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I mean it. You stay out of trouble.”

“I’ll try.” She slammed the door.

Waiting until Tallie and Solomon disappeared inside the garage, Peyton pulled the Jag out onto the highway and headed toward Jackson. Something told him that he’d be seeing Tallie again before the trial. If she stayed out of trouble for two weeks, it would be a minor miracle.

Two

Peyton placed the stadium seats on the metal bleachers and assisted Donna into her place at his right while his brother Spence sat down on his left. Since his brother had married Pattie Cornell and become the instant father of two teenagers, Peyton had taken his role as an uncle quite seriously. J.J., Spence’s stepson, was a varsity player on Marshallton High’s baseball team, and Peyton tried to make as many Saturday-night games as possible, but this was the first time he’d asked Donna to accompany him.

Over the last ten years since Peyton had devoted himself to building a successful private practice, he’d given up more and more of his leisure time and had forfeited a personal life altogether. He’d dated a lot, but had never become seriously involved. Between work and his duties as Tallie’s guardian angel, he hadn’t found a woman willing to accept the limited time he had to offer a relationship.

Several months ago, he’d met Donna at a political fund-raiser. They had liked each other immediately, and when he’d asked her out, she’d accepted. She didn’t seem to mind that he was dedicated to his career. She taught history at a local college and was devoted to her students. Although half the state of Tennessee already had them engaged, they considered themselves good friends, neither of them in a hurry to commit to anything more.

“I hope you aren’t doing this just to be a good sport,” Peyton said to Donna. “I know coming to a high school baseball game is hardly the ideal date.”

“Don’t be silly.” Donna smiled, her cinnamon-brown eyes sparkling with warmth. “I really like your brother and his family. And this is a real treat. I’ve never been to a baseball game.”

“Sweetbriar Seminary for Young Ladies didn’t have a baseball team?”

“We had a volleyball team, but I didn’t play and seldom went to the games. I lived with my nose stuck in a book. And in college, I was too busy keeping up my grades to waste time on anything except the football games Uncle James took me to when he visited his alma mater.”

Peyton laughed, trying to imagine Donna as a college girl. At thirty, she was such a serious-minded woman that he had a difficult time thinking of her any other way.

Spence punched Peyton in the ribs. “You two ready to get something from the concession stand? It’s our treat since we invited y’all to the game.”

Pattie Rand leaned over her husband to touch Peyton’s arm. “Why don’t you and Spence take our orders and go for the food while Donna and I get better acquainted.”

Although Peyton knew Pattie would give Donna the third degree while he and Spence were at the concession stand, he reluctantly agreed. The lines at the stand were long. Undoubtedly most baseball fans had decided to dine at the field tonight. The aroma of hamburgers and potatoes frying mixed with the milder smell of hot dogs and cotton candy, while the mouth-watering scent of roasted peanuts wafted through the early-evening air.

Peyton glanced around at the multitude of ball fields that comprised this section of the park, then past the enormous parking area to the lighted tennis courts, the outdoor Olympic-sized pool and the newly constructed recreation center.

“This is quite some place, isn’t it? There was nothing around here like this when we were kids playing ball.” Spence put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We did good, don’t you think, donating most of the old man’s money to build this place.”

“Yeah.” Peyton knew how difficult it had been for Spence to agree to christening this modern recreational facility the Marshall Rand Memorial Park. Spence had hated the old man, and hadn’t gotten along with Peyt for years because he’d once thought him a carbon copy of their father.

“Are you still considering running for governor?” Spence asked.

“You think it would be a mistake, don’t you?” Peyton stepped forward a couple of inches when the snail-paced line finally moved.

“I think you’d run the risk of following in the old man’s footsteps.” Spence glanced down at the order list his wife had given him.

“I wouldn’t be the kind of politician the Senator was.” Peyton glanced around, checking to see if anyone seemed interested in their private conversation. Lowering his voice, he said, “I’d like to make a difference for the people of this state. There are so many things that need to be done, and I truly think I could accomplish a great deal.”

“You’re a smart man, Peyt, and I think a fairly honest man—” Spence grinned “—for a lawyer.”

“Hey there, little brother, I resent that slur.”

“Politics can change a man. He can start worrying more about his image than he does about the people who elected him in the first place. Marshall Rand never did anything that wasn’t for the good of Marshall Rand.” Spence followed Peyton a few steps closer to the concession stand as the line progressed slowly. “You’re a better man than Father was, but you’re a lot like him. You look like him, talk like him...you definitely inherited his way with words. Hell, man, you even picked up his bad habit of smoking cigars.”

“I’ve cut back. I’m down to a handful a day, usually one after lunch and one after dinner, so don’t start on me about my cigars. Tallie gives me enough grief over my smoking. I don’t need any scolding from you.”

“Now there’s a woman who could keep a politician in line,” Spence said. “Hey, any word on when she’ll go to trial for shooting Cliff Nolan?”

“That shooting only occurred three days ago, and it seems to be the talk of the county.” Peyton wasn’t surprised. News always traveled fast in small towns and rural communities where everybody knew everybody and neighbors tended to keep tabs on one another. “Clayburn cleared some time on his docket for next week. He’s bending over backward to be fair to Tallie and still stay within the law.”

“Tallie told us all about what happened. Pattie and I ran into her here at the ball field the night after she got out of jail.” Spence looked from side to side, taking note of the people in line and the crowds out in the adjoining fields where the bleachers were filled with cheering observers. “She’s probably here tonight. She comes with Sheila Vance to all of Sheila’s little boy’s games.”

Peyton groaned. “That’s all I need! I can’t see a minute’s peace for that woman.”

“I don’t feel a bit sorry for you. When she gets into trouble and calls you for help, all you have to do is refuse.”

“You know I promised her brothers I’d keep an eye on her. They were well aware of what a little heathen she is. I swear, Spence, I never knew a woman could cause a man so much grief. I thought things would improve when she got older, but I think they’re getting worse.”

“I guess you know there are plenty of men who’d like to be in your shoes,” Spence said.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that, underneath those blue jeans and grease, there’s quite a woman. Smart, caring, sensitive and pretty. You seem to be one of the few men around these parts who hasn’t realized there’s a sexy woman hiding behind that grease-monkey facade of Tallie’s. Now, I wonder why that is?”

Peyton didn’t want to answer his brother’s question. To find the answer would involve some deep soul-searching where his relationship with Tallie was concerned, and that wasn’t something he intended doing. He had too many mixed emotions when it came to that damned irritating female. A part of him wished that she’d simply disappear off the face of the earth. Then another part of him couldn’t imagine his life without her—without thinking about her, worrying about her, taking care of her...wanting her.

The customer ahead of Peyton and Spence paid for his food, leaving them first in line at the concession stand window. Spence placed their order, then waved at someone two lines over. Peyton’s glance followed his brother’s. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. Tallie Bishop, her hands filled with a tray of food and drinks, walked toward them, a warm smile of greeting on her face. Solomon stood at her side, and accompanying them was Mike Hanley, her muscle-bound business partner.

“Hi, there.” Tallie rushed over to Peyton, Solomon following her. “You here to watch J.J.’s game?”

“Yes, Donna and I came with Spence and Pattie.” Peyton wasn’t sure why he wanted Tallie to know that Donna was with him. Maybe it was because of the way Mike stood so close to her, as if he was proclaiming ownership.

“Well, Danny’s game will be over soon. I just might drop by and watch the rest of the varsity game.” When Peyton made no comment, she turned to Spence. “Eric Miller is here, and he’s been drinking. I thought about calling Lowell and seeing if he’d send over a deputy, but he’d just tell me he couldn’t arrest Eric unless he caused a problem.”

“I wish that man would stay home when he’s drinking. He’s such an embarrassment to Tony.” Pulling his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, Spence took out several bills to pay for his order and laid the money down on the counter. “If he gives you any trouble, Tallie, let me know.”

“I can handle Miller if he starts bothering Tallie.” Mike draped a protective arm around her shoulders.

“Who is Eric Miller and what’s this all about?” Never taking his eyes off Tallie, Peyton reached out and picked up one of the cardboard food trays.

“Eric’s son Tony plays varsity ball with J.J. Half the time, Eric shows up at the games three sheets to the wind,” Tallie said. “He harasses the umpire, curses the players and creates problems for his son. At the first game of the season, Miller caused such a ruckus, he wound up spending the night in jail.”

“Yeah, and even after he found out that Tallie was the one who called the sheriff, he wouldn’t leave her alone,” Mike said.

“What do you mean he wouldn’t leave her alone?” Peyton asked.

“Well, it seems Miller has the hots for our Tallie. He’s been giving her a rough time lately,” Spence said. “The guy doesn’t want to take no for an answer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Miller?” Peyton glared at Tallie.

“There was no reason to bother you.” Tallie tightened her hold on her food tray. “Solomon acts as a deterrent. Believe me, even Eric Miller doesn’t want to take him on. Besides, at that first game when he got really obnoxious, I called Lowell and he took care of things.”

“Couldn’t you avoid the man?” Peyton asked. “You could stay away from these games. You’re not a parent.”

“Neither are you! Besides, I’m not going to let the likes of Eric Miller keep me from doing whatever I want to do and going wherever I want to go.”

“Well, that first game when you called Lowell, you could have stayed out of it and allowed the other fathers to handle everything, including calling the sheriff.”

“They were too busy trying to drag Eric off the field,” Tallie said defiantly. “They sort of had their hands full since the man is six foot two and weighs close to two-fifty.”

Peyton took a deep breath, releasing it on a loud sigh. “This food is going to be cold if we don’t get it back to Donna and Pattie,” he told Spence, wondering why he ever bothered trying to talk sense to Tallie. She always had a rational explanation for everything she did, regardless of the consequences.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Spence turned to Tallie. “I’ll keep an eye out for Miller. Come on on over when the Little League game ends. We’ll introduce you to Peyt’s lady friend.”

“I’ll do that.” Thrusting out her chin and sticking her nose in the air, Tallie gave Peyton a see-if-I-care-who-you’re-with smile.

Peyton grumbled under his breath as he and Spence made their way back to the field where the game had just begun.

“What’s the matter, big brother?” Spence asked. “Don’t you think it’s time for the two women in your life to meet?”

“The two women in my... Tallie Bishop is not a woman in my life. She’s a pest. A nuisance. A thorn in my side. But she is definitely not a woman in my life.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.” Spence grinned from ear to ear.

* * *

Thirty-five minutes later, Tallie waited with Sheila Vance for her son’s coach to finish the after-game pep talk and instructions on when the Little League team would practice next. A cool springtime night breeze reminded the women that summer was nearly two months away. Tallie zipped up her black and yellow jacket.

“Are you planning to go over to the varsity game to meet Donna Fields?” Sheila asked. “I think Mike was hoping you’d leave when we did.”

“Ever since Mike’s divorce, he’s had some crazy notion that the two of us would make a great team. I’ve tried to tell him that being business partners and friends is all there is ever going to be between us.” Tallie ran her fingers through her short, windblown hair, lifting her curly bangs off her forehead.

“Give him time and he’ll get the picture.” Sheila buttoned her beige cardigan sweater. “Even if Mike can’t be the man, I wish someone would come along and wake you up to the fact that Peyton Rand is not the only man in the world.”

“I know he’s not the only man in the world. It’s just that—well, he was the first man I fell in love with...and there hasn’t been anybody else.”

Releasing her indrawn breath on a loud huff, Sheila shook her head. “I don’t understand you, Tallie. If you want Peyton, why don’t you go after him? Use your feminine wiles on him.”

“I didn’t say I wanted him.” Tallie kicked at the ground with the tip of her black tennis shoe. “Besides, I don’t think I have any feminine wiles. Growing up with only a grandfather and three big brothers, I didn’t learn much about being female.”

“Pooh! You don’t have to learn to be female. It’s just something you are. And believe me, honey, you’re all female. What you have to do is go over there and show Peyton Rand that you’re more woman than that Donna Fields could ever be.”

“How do you suggest I do that?”

“First, admit that you want Peyton Rand.”

“I don’t want him.” When Sheila looked at her skeptically, Tallie shook her head. “I can’t want him. He’s all wrong for me, and I’m all wrong for him. You know as well as I do that if he runs for governor, he’ll need a wife like Donna Fields. Someone sophisticated and educated. Someone with the right background.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Sheila said.

“I’m not,” Tallie said. “I know that I’m smart and hardworking and have more friends than a person has a right to, but I know my shortcomings just as well. Peyton and I just aren’t right for each other.”

Mike, who’d been waiting at the fence for Danny, walked the boy over to where Sheila and Tallie were talking. “Ready to go, ladies?”

“Tallie’s staying to see the rest of the varsity game.” Accepting the baseball glove her son handed her, Sheila put her arm around him. “I need to get Danny home for a bath and then bed so we won’t be late for Sunday school tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you want to stay?” Mike asked Tallie.

“I’m sure,” Tallie said. “I’ve heard so much about Donna Fields that I think it’s high time I met her.”

Mike shrugged, then turned and walked away with Sheila and Danny, who both gave Tallie farewell waves.

Taking time to shore up her courage, Tallie waited a few minutes before strolling over to the field where the varsity game was being played. She spotted Peyton sitting next to an attractive redhead, who sported a rust leather coat almost the same color as her dark auburn hair.