The Cowboy Soldier's Sons. Tina Leonard
pretty crazy,” Shaman said.
Tempest finally shivered. It was nerves, but not good nerves, not like she had before she went on stage. This was more of a bone-deep trembling, from the past smacking her right in the face. “Yeah. It was.”
“You trying to scare me off, Cupertino?” Shaman asked, putting his arm around her and walking her to the front door. She could still feel the tension in his body; it radiated from him.
“Maybe,” she said. “Is it working?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not,” he answered, helping her into his truck. “I don’t know that you can scare me off.”
He went around to get in the driver’s seat, and she suppressed another shiver until he’d climbed in. She quickly locked the doors, and he acted as if he hadn’t noticed. “I wanted you to know where I came from, Shaman. I knew you’d understand.”
He pulled away from the small, decrepit pile of wooden misery where Tempest had grown up. “I don’t know that there’s anything to understand. It doesn’t matter to me.”
“I haven’t been back here since I left,” she said softly. “And I’ve never told anybody I dated about my family.”
“So this is like a real first date,” Shaman said, trying to unload some of the tension.
Yet the tension wouldn’t leave her. “I just knew I could tell you, because you’re not some rich guy who’s never worked a day in your life. You haven’t had everything handed to you. I mean, I feel like you could understand.”
“Oh, I get it. Because I’m a working stiff.” He laughed. “Cupertino, you got a bad-girl fantasy going on? Rich girl meets bad boy?”
“No,” she said, annoyed. “I just feel like you and I are a lot alike somehow. That maybe we’re from the same place.”
“It’s okay,” Shaman said. “I get what you’re saying. And I don’t care about your skeletons, beautiful. Now tell me where you want me to take you for our date. A beer is sounding real good to me right now.”
“I do not have a bad-girl fantasy, or whatever you said,” Tempest said, still inwardly writhing over the skeletons that had popped out unexpectedly from her closet. “I don’t have any fantasy at all concerning you,” she fibbed.
“We’ll have to work on that. I’ve got plenty of fantasies that have your name on them.”
She sniffed. “Really?”
He reached for her hand, kissing her fingers. “Feed me, and maybe I’ll show you.”
“Turn right at the stoplight. You can get a beer at Shiloh Bill’s.”
“That’s my girl,” Shaman said, and Tempest decided maybe the night was looking up. As long as she didn’t think about the past, everything was fine.
* * *
SHILOH BILL’S WAS A cozy mom-and-pop shop with lots of plants sprucing up the place, and a piano player in the background. Shaman felt himself slowly starting to relax. The whole incident with the vagrant had really teed him off—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to remove a guy’s head more.
It was Cupertino. She was driving him mad.
“What are you going to eat?” she asked, looking at him with big, inquiring eyes. He figured most girls wouldn’t have wanted to go out in a cap and wearing no makeup, but she hadn’t mentioned it. Shaman wondered if she knew how sexy she was, and decided Cupertino was too secure to care, whether she was wearing holey jeans or a ball gown.
“I’m going to have a salad and veggie quesadillas,” Shaman said. “Maybe some Oreo pie for dessert.”
“Didn’t you eat today?” she asked, obviously teasing him.
“Bodyguarding makes me hungry.” He reached for the chips in the center of the small table between them in the booth.
“Bodyguarding?” she said, one brow arching.
“Yeah. Do I get extra points for it?”
She laughed. “I can take care of myself, Shaman. And you just like to eat. It has nothing to do with me.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.” He sipped his beer, drinking in Cupertino, feeling relaxation stealing over him like a welcoming hug. “So, I have to ask you something.”
She leaned back. “I can’t promise to answer.”
“This is an easy question. My curious, naturally suspicious mind thinks Bobby’s right. Bud Taylor left his money to you.”
She looked at him without blinking. “They teach you puzzle solving in the military, or is it a natural talent?”
“Both. I’m right, aren’t I?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have the money.”
He heard the hedge in her answer. “But you did have it.”
Her mouth twisted, and he wanted to kiss her soft, sweet lips. “If I did, Phillips, I would have donated it all to charity.”
“Would you now?” he said, knowing she’d just answered the question without answering it. A tall, thin waitress with gray hair and penciled eyebrows came over to take their orders, and when she’d left, Shaman looked at Tempest with a grin. “So which charity is your favorite?”
“You might notice that the library has had a major face-lift,” she said, her tone airy. “The structure was sound, but the outside needed work and the inside needed cosmetic renovation. Also, the book selections required serious updating. I think the money must have been appreciated, because your niece spent her summer devouring several shelves of books, and still likes coming here for reading material. Her nana Moira—Chelsea’s mother—apparently spent the summer dragging Cat to the library, helping her find her footing among the classics. I deem the project a success, if Cat and Moira think that highly of it.”
Shaman whistled. “You’re amazing.”
“Not really. It wasn’t my money, and I didn’t need it. The town of Tempest did. I figure no good civilization grows without excellent resources.”
He dragged a chip through the salsa. “I guess Bobby would have a fit if he knew.”
She shrugged. “That’s his personal problem. Anyway, the way the story went, at least the way I heard it from Shinny and Blanche, is that Bud Taylor couldn’t stand his kids. Said they were like vultures waiting for him to die, and he didn’t understand why they couldn’t just go out and make successes of themselves as he had. He didn’t believe in leaving them money.”
Shaman sighed with appreciation as their orders were placed in front of them. “It’s probably true. Everyone should make their own mark in life. Waiting for a handout is a sign of weakness.”
“I knew you’d understand,” Tempest said. “I admire you for being a self-made man.”
He wasn’t certain how admirable he really was. “So I take it no one knows your deep, dark secret.”
“Not a soul. Well, Bud’s lawyer does. But no one else, not even Shinny and Blanche.” She dug into the fajitas she’d ordered. “There was no point in telling anyone. Bud wouldn’t have wanted anything named after him. I didn’t know him very well, but I figure he wasn’t that kind of man. And anyway, I don’t necessarily believe the rumors are true about him being my dad. I had a father.” She stopped, looking faraway for a moment. “I didn’t really know him, either. Mom didn’t talk about him much.”
The salad was delicious, as were the quesadillas, but Shaman suddenly had another topic on his mind. “So, I heard Cat was hinting around about me marrying you.”
Tempest blinked and put her fajita down. “She didn’t say anything like that to