Unbound Pursuit (2 page)

“I feel like whining,” Tal admitted, ashamed, holding his gaze for a moment. “And I’m no whiner, Lockwood. You know that.”

He moved his hand comfortingly up and down her straight back. She would always be a Marine Corps officer, whether she was in or out of uniform. Tal was tall, medium build, and in terrific athletic shape for being thirty years old. “I know, it’s no fun for you, but we’re getting that ankle stronger a day at a time.” The corners of his eyes creased, his mouth curving upward. “For being a sniper all those years, you sure don’t have patience with your little ol’ hurt body. It’s doing the best it can, the fastest that it can.” He chuckled as she frowned. Tal had no idea how sexy she looked when she did pout, that full lower lip one of the many delicious assets of hers that he craved daily. Wyatt liked to kiss and mold her lips against his mouth. The woman kept him in a perpetual state of heat and burning. She wasn’t a flirt. Far from it. She was all business, conservative, didn’t say much, and was a damned good leader. All attributes of Tal’s that he’d fallen helplessly in love with.

“Ohh,” she muttered, shaking her head, “I know you’re right, Wyatt. I just hate . . . well, we’re meeting your family for the first time, and I’m not whole, not my real self.”

So there was the deeper truth. Wyatt knew Tal had a lot of pride even though she didn’t often show it, so he was glad to hear why she was so uncomfortable with, and upset about, her still-healing ankle. “You could never be less than whole to me, even if you lost your foot,” he rasped, kissing her temple, inhaling her female scent, which always made his cock thicken with want of her again. “And this less-than-whole state of mind, Tal? Get rid of it. You know better.” And she did. But it served to tell Wyatt how important it was to her that she was meeting his family and how badly she wanted to make a good impression. He felt a lot of emotions growing in his chest over that realization. To the outside world, Tal Culver was a prototype of the modern-day woman warrior who didn’t take shit from anyone. And she didn’t. She’d blown that glass ceiling all to hell years earlier. Another reason he loved her. Now she was worried about what his family might think of her limping along, not looking whole or competent. He moved his hand to her shoulders, which were drawn back with natural pride. “They are gonna love you whether you limp or not, darlin’. Have I forsaken you just because you’ve got an itty-bitty limp for a while?” He saw his drawl and teasing erase some of the tension in her face. The anxiety was banked in Tal’s incredible forest-green eyes. They were slightly tilted, thanks to her mother Dilara’s Turkish and Greek ancestry. Dilara had passed her exotic, sultry looks on to her elder daughter.

“Oh,” she fumed under her breath as the approached the gate where Wyatt’s family stood, all smiles. “I know you’re right.”

Wyatt gently squeezed her shoulders. “I think it’s kinda nice that you’re worried about what my Texas-sized family might think about you.” He leaned close, her hair tickling his nose as he whispered, “I love you. They’ll love you too.”

He felt the rest of the tension bleed out of her then, and she gave him a look of gratitude. Tal was a type A go-getter like he was. They were ex-military, black ops, and very good at what they did for the years they’d spent in the service. Now they were civilians but still running a black ops company, which suited their nature, experience, and passion. He lifted his chin and drew her to a halt near the gate. He saw his father, Hank Lockwood, a giant of a man wearing a dark tan Stetson on his head, open the gate for them.

“Son, good to see you home,” he drawled, offering his large, callused hand to Wyatt.

Wyatt shook it. “Dad, good to see y’all.” He took Tal from beneath his arm, smiling at his family, who were grinning ear-to-ear back at him. “I want you to meet the woman I’m gonna marry next June, Tal Culver. Tal, this is the brood I came out of.” He gestured to his father. “This is my dad, Hank. My mother, Daisy. And these three younguns, beginning with the oldest after me, are Mattie, Cathy, and the baby of the family, Jake.”

Tal smiled. “Hi, everyone. It’s great to finally meet all of you.”

Daisy Lockwood stepped forward, dressed in a brown corduroy pantsuit, wearing sensible black leather shoes, a purse over her shoulder in the same color. She was fifty-seven years old, her red hair streaked with gray up in a topknot, her green eyes warm with welcome. Daisy hugged Tal gently. “Nice to meet you, Tal. We’ve been so excited about meeting the woman that finally caught Wyatt’s attention.” She smiled up at her, releasing her.

“Thanks, Mrs. Lockwood—”

“Oh, call me Daisy,” she insisted.

“Do,” Wyatt said, grinning. “My family doesn’t much stand on PC or protocols unless they’re really forced to.”

Tal laughed and immediately loved the nurturing warmth of Daisy, who was very short and petite. But she didn’t look weak to Tal. She was darkly suntanned, even in December, and that told Tal that Daisy was outdoors a lot of the time. “Okay, good enough. Daisy it is.”

Hank came forward, took off his hat, and said, “We’re mighty grateful, Tal, that you finally roped this wild cayuse of an oldest son of ours. Daisy and I were wondering when he’d finally settle down.” He offered his hand to her.

Tal was prepared for the big Texas cowboy to crunch the bones in her hand, but to her surprise, he had a very gentle grip instead. She could see a lot of Wyatt in his father’s deeply weathered, darkly tanned face. She liked Hank’s gray eyes, which Wyatt had inherited. And they both shared the same brown hair with the same military-short haircut. No question that Wyatt was the spitting image of his larger-than-life cowboy father.

Mattie was the first of Wyatt’s siblings to step forward, gripping Tal’s hand between her own. She looked a lot like her mother, Daisy, with the same red hair and green eyes. She was tall, nearly as tall as Tal, as well as slender and graceful. “Hi, Tal, so nice to meet you! We could hardly wait for you two to come for a visit.”

“Thanks, Mattie. It’s nice to meet you,” Tal murmured, admiring the woman’s hair, which was caught up in a ponytail. Mattie had worn a black wool dress and a camel-hair coat over it, with makeup and gold earrings. To Tal, she looked like a professional; Wyatt had told Tal that she was a kindergarten teacher in Van Horn. She was pretty, with a riot of freckles across her cheeks and nose.

Mattie released her and stepped aside.

“Hi, Tal, I’m Cathy. Welcome to Texas!” She flung her arms around Tal, being careful not to throw her off balance because of her ankle injury.

Tal loved Cathy’s enthusiasm, hugging her back. She had her father’s brown hair and gray eyes and was within an inch of Tal’s height. She was in a cowboy shirt, jeans, and boots. Her hair, which was cut short, just below her ears, was covered with a black baseball cap. As Tal released her, she said, “Thanks for the warm welcome.” Cathy had Daisy’s oval face, high cheekbones, and wide, soft mouth.

The last sibling came forward. He stuck out his hand to her. “Hey, Tal, I’m Jake. And just ignore this
older
brother of mine. I might be the so-called baby of the family, but I pull my weight around here, too.” He grinned, shaking her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jake. Thanks for having us.”

“Oh,” Wyatt deadpanned, “my itty-bitty little brother had
nothing
to do with or say about us coming home to meet everyone.” He winked over in Jake’s direction.

Jake chortled and stepped aside so that they could walk through the gate and into the terminal. “Get over yourself, Wyatt.”

Tal could see there was lots of friendly banter and good-natured competition between Wyatt and Jake, but it was all done in good fun, and they weren’t mean or rude with one another. Jake was dressed like Cathy. He wore a very old denim jacket and a brown baseball cap on his head with the words “Rocking L Ranch” embroidered on the front of it. He had a pair of leather gloves stuffed in the back pocket of his jeans. She saw that his and Cathy’s cowboy boots, although clean, were old, scuffed, and well worn. Jake had black hair in the same short haircut as his father and brother, and gray eyes. Seeing them all together, there was no question that they were all family.

The copilot of the Delos jet placed their four bags near the gate for them. Wyatt thanked him. Hank picked up two bags and Jake took the other two. Wyatt led Tal through the gate, and they followed the family into the terminal and then outside to the parking lot across the street.

Daisy came up on Tal’s right, her hand light upon her upper arm. “Are you okay, Tal? Wyatt was tellin’ us you suffered a really bad set of broken bones in your ankle.”

“I’m fine, Daisy.” Tal wished her limp would stop garnering so much attention. Everyone had to slow their normal stride by half to walk with her, and it about killed Tal. She was used to being strong and whipcord vital.

“Considering the breaks,” Wyatt told his mom, “Tal’s made tremendous progress since last June, when it happened.”

Daisy made soft clucking sounds of sympathy with her tongue. “Will you be able to walk okay someday, Tal?”

“I’d better,” she said, partially smiling but meaning it.

“Her bone doc said a year,” Wyatt told his mom. “It’s only been six months since it happened. Tal is like me: she’s always in a hurry.”

Daisy’s red brows rose and she smiled up at Tal. “Well then! I’d say you’re ahead of schedule, wouldn’t you?”

“Some days,” Tal admitted, “I think I’m progressing well. And then there are those days when I feel like I’ve regressed. I get bummed out when I think my ankle should be doing better than it is, like today.” She gestured down at the special boot she had to wear.

Wyatt liked his mother’s way of supporting Tal positively. He saw Tal relax a little more. He knew she hated drawing awareness to herself. She was, after all, a sniper by training; it was their job to hide out in plain sight. Garnering attention was not something she liked to do. Tal was low-key, preferring to blend into the background in the eyes of the world, and she liked it that way. He did, too, which was just another reason to love her. She was an introvert by nature. Wyatt would have called himself part introvert and part extrovert. It was easier for him to be around a lot of people without being drained by it like Tal often was.

Patting Tal’s arm, Daisy said, “Well, no worries, child. My grandmother Bell was an herbalist. She raised a brood of nine children on nothin’ but herbs, because back in her day we had no doctor hereabouts. The only time she saw one was when the doctor rode the circuit into this part of Texas, which was twice a year. The rest of the time, if one of her kids got sick, she used herbs. My grandma left the family an herbal recipe book. I know there’s one in there for broken bones, swelling, and bruises. You might want to try it.”

Jake dropped back next to his mother, his hands full of their luggage. “I can certify that Gram Bell’s herbs work. Did Wyatt tell you about the time I busted up my right lower arm riding a mean bronc at our local rodeo?”

“No,” Tal said, smiling over at Jake.

“Figures.” He gave Wyatt a dark look. Wyatt grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “I busted both bones in my right forearm. I got sent to the ER here in Van Horn, and Mom drove in from our ranch with our gram’s jar of ointment for swelling and bruising.” Jake looked over at his mother. “Too bad you weren’t in the ER with us, Tal. World War Three broke out between that young resident Dr. John and my mom here. She insisted that she be allowed to slather that ointment over the break. And Dr. John said it was foolish and wouldn’t work. He wanted to give me some drug to bring down the swelling instead.”

Jake’s handsome grin widened. “There was a sayin’ on all the roadways at the borders of our state: ‘Don’t Mess with Texas.’ Well, it was pretty obvious that sounded threatening to people who were visiting Texas, and someone up in the publicity department in the state government finally got that and took those signs down. They put out kinder ‘Welcome to Texas’ signs after that. But”—he raised his black brows, his gray eyes glinting—“we still use our own twist on that saying: ‘Don’t mess with Daisy.’”

The siblings all laughed, bobbing their heads. They stopped at a dark gray Chevy Suburban, and Jake opened up the rear of it. “Dr. John found out that ‘Don’t Mess with Daisy’ meant exactly that. She slapped his hand away from my arm and told him to git.”

Mattie laughed, helping Jake put the luggage in the rear of the Suburban. “I had just come into Jake’s cubicle in the ER when I saw my mom slap the doctor’s hand away from Jake’s arm. You should have seen the shock on his face. Our mom can be a mama grizzly bear when it comes to protecting one of her kids.”

Tal grinned and stood aside as Hank loaded the last two pieces of luggage. “Did the ointment work, Jake?”

“Oh, for sure it did. Mom came over, snarling and growling, placing herself between me and the traumatized doc, and slathered up my arm where the breaks were at under the skin. She then turned and told the doc to put a removable cast on it. He did exactly as she ordered.”

“Yes,” Mattie chortled, giving Tal a merry look. “He was white-faced. Like someone had slapped him up alongside the head or something. As you can see, our mom may only be five feet two inches tall, but when she gets protective of her children? She might as well be eight feet!”

The whole family tittered, nodding their heads in agreement.

Daisy patted Tal’s arm. “Well, come on, child, let’s get you settled in the Suburban. Jake is taking Cathy and Mattie with him in his Chevy pickup truck. They’ll be following us back to the ranch.”

*