(Calahan Cowboys 08) The Cowboy Soldier's Sons (20 page)

“The testing hasn’t come back, but I suspect a lead pipe.”

“Thank God,” Xav said, sipping his water. “I was afraid it was something dumb, like I’d let a door blow open on me or something.”

“No.” Shaman shook his head. “The same wacko that attacked me got to you. You just got it worse than I did.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Xav winced. “They tell me I had surgery for swelling.”

“They were going to, but the swelling subsided. You got lucky, bro.” Anger flashed through Shaman all over again, seething and roiling. He leaned back in the leather armchair. “Millicent says you’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Yeah. I’m feeling much better now that it doesn’t seem like I can pick up radio stations in Chicago from the ringing in my ears.” Xav smiled. “Do they know who was on the other end of the lead pipe?”

He nodded. “Tempest’s half brother Bobby Taylor. He’s got a bit of a grudge against her. Only, the late-breaking news is that they’re not related at all, which further complicates things. She doesn’t want anyone to know that Bobby’s father, Bud, who owned Dark Diablo before Jonas bought it, left her his entire estate and holdings. It seems to be a problem for Bobby.”

Xav blinked. “That’s a tangled web.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So when did Jonas buy Dark Diablo from Bud Taylor?”

“About two years ago. Then the old guy died. It was like he was waiting to get rid of it.” Shaman grimaced. “From what I can tell, he sold out and lived in the farmhouse until he croaked. That was the deal he and Jonas made.”

Xav moved restlessly. “He must have believed Tempest was his daughter.”

Shaman shrugged. “Maybe he felt guilty for not helping her out when she was a kid. She grew up pretty poor.”

“And Bobby had no idea he had a half sister?”

“He knew. He just didn’t think the embarrassment of his life—Tempest—was going to make off with the family riches.”

Shaman considered the vast wealth Tempest had doled out in the small town. “She got rid of all the dough, parceling it out to different places. Anonymously. The library got the lion’s share. Then Millicent offered a wedding gift to us, and my bride generously had Mother make a donation—anonymously—to the elementary school.”

“You have a philanthropic wife.” Xav considered his words. “But she’s not Bobby’s sister?”

Shaman shrugged. “Not according to her birth records. She’s Mac Cupertino’s daughter. Apparently, her mother loved him, couldn’t resist him. He just wasn’t much for hanging around, so I guess that’s why she took up with Bud Taylor.”

“But her mother passed Tempest off as Bud’s kid.”

Shaman blinked. “That never crossed my mind.”

Xav grinned. “You’re the family valedictorian.”

“Yeah.” The pieces fell into place for him. “That explains why Bud left her the money. He really believed Tempest was his child. If Bobby knew that she wasn’t in fact his half sister, he’d really be hot.” Thankfully, no one knew that information except him and the sheriff, and Tempest. Maybe Shinny and Blanche.

“And you’re sitting here why?” Xav asked.

Shaman looked at his brother. “Because Kendall and Millicent can’t do everything for you while you lie around like a Roman god.”

“I meant,” Xav said patiently, “why are you sitting here if Bobby Taylor’s got a reason to be even more angry? Once he finds out Tempest isn’t his sister, he’s going to figure out what her mother did. All this time he’s been ticked at Jonas for buying the place—taking advantage of his daddy’s advanced age, wasn’t that his story? Now he’s got a real target with a face and a name. His not-blood-relation, Tempest.”

Shaman’s blood chilled. He stared at his brother, thinking about his wife alone with their two children, and a madman out for vengeance watching their every move.

“I’ve got to go,” he said.

Xav nodded. “You sure do.”

Shaman ran out the door, hoping—praying—he hadn’t left Tempest and his boys in danger.

* * *

“I
DON’T KNOW
, Jack.” Tempest looked at her agent as she pushed the pram over to the courthouse. Two cameramen followed her every move, setting her and the babies up for a commercial for diapers. Jack was determined to keep her working, and Tempest was equally determined to be a stay-at-home mom. For the moment, they’d found a compromise.

But Jack wasn’t here to oversee the shoot. He wanted to dangle the prize of a made-for-TV movie in front of her. All she needed to do was take a screen test—although he was certain she had it in the bag.

Tempest didn’t want to do a movie. But Blanche had pointed out that someone had to pay her bills, if she was going to be a single mom. Tempest’s response was that she’d sell her villa in Tuscany. She and the boys wouldn’t need that much to live on in Tempest.

But then Blanche had opined that what she needed was a steady income, especially if she was going to fall for a retired military operative who was out of a job at the moment. “I guess I could do it,” Tempest said, thinking that she didn’t care if she lived on soup and crackers if it meant that Shaman was in her bed every night.

“That’s the spirit,” Jack said. Her fair-haired agent grinned. “I knew if I saw you in person I could make you see the wisdom of putting away college money for these little panhandlers.”

She smiled. “Jack, I saved my money. I would be fine.”

“Can always be finer.” He glanced around, taking in the courthouse and the wide streets around the square, the many shops that jutted cheerful signage from their windows and awnings. “This is a quaint part of the world, but I don’t see you living here.”

Jack didn’t understand all the changes the town had undergone just in the past couple of months. This sleepy place was coming to life, as if it had been dormant for most of its existence, and was now waking up to its potential. “I love it here.”

“It makes my skin itch. I need action.”

A handycam zipped around them, recording Tempest and the babies for the commercial. She stopped on her mark and lifted a baby out of the pram, then the other one. Like veterans, Josh and Gage waved their chubby arms, reaching for their mother.

And the commercial was done.

“Easy money,” Jack said.

“I guess so.” Tempest was still thinking about the made-for-TV movie. She didn’t see Shaman hanging around film studios. He’d be just as crazy and bored as Jack was here, only Shaman’s skin wouldn’t just “itch” from boredom; he’d be a caged panther. “I’ll think about the movie, Jack. Give me a day or two.”

He looked at her steadily. “You want to take this deal. These boys are going to want to take dates to proms, even in this hick town. They’re going to need braces and—”

“Rodeo gear,” Tempest said. “Their father wants them to rodeo.”

“Funny thing, for the fifteen years I’ve been your agent, never have you said the words
rodeo
or
small town.
”

“I know.” She hugged her sons to her, then handed little Josh carefully to her agent. “Here, Uncle Jack wants to hold you.”

“The things I do for you,” he grumbled, clasping the baby at arm’s length. “I think he has a poo issue.”

Tempest laughed and took Josh back, placing him next to his brother in the pram. “You know, these guys are only going to be little for a few years. I think I—”

“I’m going to go finish up with the director, see if there’s anything else he needs before you say that being a mother is all you want to do. I hear it coming,” Jack stated. “And I’m pretty sure you’d look back on that decision and regret it. You’re right on the cusp of your career getting huge, Tempest.”

He handed her the diaper bag he’d been carrying, and hurried off. She smiled down tenderly at her sons. “Poo issue, indeed.” The boys were both clean and dry, although they looked as if they might want to eat soon. She rolled them over to a bench outside the courthouse and sat down, popping open a couple of bottles and starting to feed them.

It was so peaceful and quiet in Tempest. She had everything she wanted—except her marriage. And she really wasn’t certain what to do about that.

“Hey,” Bobby Taylor said, sitting down next to her on the bench.

He could not have missed that she was annoyed by his presence, since she gave him her sternest frown. “What do you want?”

“Nothing.” He looked down at the babies, then glanced around the courthouse lawn, his gaze searching. “Where’s Captain Courageous?”

She ignored that, her pulse beating faster. They were in a shadowy corner out of the sun, where not many people walked by. Jack would be back in a minute, but he wouldn’t be in a hurry to return, either. He was much more comfortable talking shtick with producers than he was playing Uncle Jack, even if he had bought her the pretty diaper bag from Hollywood.

“Go away, Bobby. I’m busy.”

He considered the babies. “Don’t look much like the cowboy.”

She didn’t bother to even glance at him. “I don’t expect them to look like anybody except themselves right now.”

He reached out to touch one of the infants. Tempest slapped his hand away. “Take off, Bobby.”

She stared him down. He glared back at her.

“Figured you might be nice without the cowboy around,” he told her. “Guess I was wrong.”

“Yes. You are.” She put the babies back in the pram. They didn’t appreciate being separated from their bottles, so they set up a nice, healthy squalling. Bobby skittered off like a cockroach, wending his way around the back of the courthouse.

“Whew,” Jack said, coming to find her. “I can hear them a half mile away. Maybe I can find them a commercial for baby aspirin or something. I can feel a headache coming on.”

“Two little babies don’t make as much noise as you do in five minutes, Jack.” Tempest wheeled the stroller toward the Ice Cream Shoppe. “You’re a sneaky agent, Jack. But I’ll do the movie.”

“Great!” He radiated a let’s-hit-the-road-before-you-change-your-mind smile. “Can you leave today?”

* * *

W
HEN
S
HAMAN OPENED THE
door to the bungalow with the key Shinny had given him at Tempest’s request, he was shocked to find the place almost empty. The port-a-cribs were up against a wall, the place was vacuumed, all baby paraphernalia was gone.

“Shaman!” Blanche entered the bungalow, her high hairdo tottering as she hurried.

“Hi, Blanche.” He glanced around. “Do you know where Tempest is?”

“She took the boys and went to Hollywood with her agent. They shot a commercial here—you should have seen it, it was so neat to have a TV crew in Tempest—and then she left. She’s making a made-for-TV movie.” Blanche glowed with pride. “She tried to call you, but your cell wasn’t working. Or it wouldn’t pick up.”

They did get faulty cell service on occasion out at The Family, Inc., a feature of being far from the nearest towns and cell towers. He checked his phone, finding about ten messages and texts from Tempest. His heart sank a bit.

“She said she left you a note in the kitchen.” Blanche grinned at him. “Now that the boys have been in a commercial, no doubt they’ll grow up on the big screen, if they turn out as handsome as their daddy.” She winked at him, and he tried to wash away the sense of panic enveloping him.

“Thanks, Blanche.” He gazed around the bungalow once more, feeling lost and bereft without his wife and boys. That was the problem: he thought of Tempest as his wife. She still thought of their relationship as an agreement. Like any other contract she signed.

“So, are you going to stay awhile?” Blanche asked. “I’m sure Tempest wouldn’t mind you being here.”

This was Tempest’s bungalow. He hadn’t seen their lives so clearly cut into his-and-hers before. Except for the babies, they had nothing that was
theirs.

“I guess I’ll be moving on.”

The older woman looked at him, her broad, friendly face creased with concern. “Are you all right?”

He nodded. “I’m fine.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I think Bobby’s not going to try to kill you anymore. He says he’s turning over a new leaf. He’s even been helping out at Cactus Max’s, washing dishes in exchange for meals.”

Shaman couldn’t say why that didn’t necessarily make him feel better. But maybe he was just sad that his wife didn’t seem to want to be married to him anymore.

And the fact was, he really couldn’t blame her.

Blanche left after a few more pleasantries, and then he went over to read Tempest’s letter. It told him where she and the boys were staying, invited him to come out and join them. Said she wasn’t sure how long he’d planned to be in Hell’s Colony, and hadn’t been able to get hold of him. That she showed the boys his picture every night and told them their daddy was a good man, which made him smile because his tiny sons cared about nothing at this stage except being held, eating and having their diapers changed.

He put the letter away and walked outside, surprised when he saw Gage and Chelsea drive up with Cat. They parked at the back of Shinny’s. His niece hopped out of the truck, flying over to throw her arms around him.

“Uncle Shaman! We knew we’d find you here! Dad says that the Ice Cream Shoppe has become your favorite haunt.”

He sent his brother a grimace. “Thanks, Gage.”

Then he realized his sister-in-law was carrying something long and white in a protective bag. He pounded his brother on the back in greeting, keeping a wary eye on Chelsea and her big smile. “Where’s my tiny niece?”

“Abigail Catherine stayed with Fiona.” Chelsea’s face positively glowed with excitement, and he had a funny feeling his sister-in-law had something on her mind. She wore that pleased look Tempest used to wear when she was about to spring something on him. Way back when it used to be a picnic basket and sex.

He missed those days. Now she was still springing things on him, but it was usually the theory that their marriage contract had expired. Definitely less sex—make that no sex—and, coincidentally, no picnic basket.

He sighed. “I hope that is not for me.”

Chelsea held up the long garment bag, which was rather voluminous, so it must not contain a simple baby gift of matching onesies for the boys. “This is for Tempest. If she wants it.”