(Calahan Cowboys 08) The Cowboy Soldier's Sons (10 page)

He laughed. “Too dirty for you?”

She sniffed. “Yes.”

“This is what I’m like all the time, Cupertino.”

She looked at him. “If you’re trying to scare me off, it’s not going to work.”

He ran a paper towel around the back of his neck. “So who is our first visitor?”

“Kendall didn’t want me to tell you.”

“But you’re not married to Kendall.”

“So I should do what you tell me to do?” Tempest shrugged. “Your mother.”

“My mother?” He looked at her. “Not possible.”

Tempest grabbed her purse. “I’m going into town to see Shinny and Blanche. They’re the only people I know who are telling the truth when they say they like looking at wedding photos.”

Shaman followed her. “Don’t you want to meet my mother?”

She glanced at him. “Not really.”

“Isn’t that a bit unusual for a bride? Aren’t you supposed to want to suck up to my mother and get on her good side?”

“No,” Tempest said. “This is a short-term marriage, and Kendall says your mom’s coming to bend your ear about your responsibilities. I think I’ll leave you two alone. Kendall said you and your mom could probably use some time to hash things out. I’m making myself scarce.”

He caught her hand. “You know, that’s the second time you’ve reminded me that we’re getting a divorce after the baby is born. Are you trying to tell me something?”

She tugged her hand away. “Yes. I’m trying to tell you that we’re getting a divorce after—”

“I got that part.” He caught her again, pulling her against him. “I may not let you go.”

She looked into his dark eyes. “I have a contract.”

“You have a marriage contract, too, Cupertino. You may have to decide.” He kissed her, and she giggled.

“You smell like horse.” She gave him a slight push and brushed off her white top and blue jeans. “A limo just pulled up outside. Anyone you know?”

He sighed. “It’s Millicent. My mother.”

Tempest glanced at him, then out the window, surprised. “Your mother has a limo?”

“A few of them. Come say hello. If Kendall told you Mom’s a bit of a dragon, let me just say my sister exaggerates sometimes.”

Tempest followed Shaman, if for no other reason than curiosity. “Kendall said your mother’s a sweetheart, and that you can be a grouch around her. I was supposed to tell you to mind your manners.”

Shaman walked toward the limo. “As I said, Kendall exaggerates. Hello, Mother.”

Tempest watched as a wheelchair was brought out of the limo by a uniformed attendant. Shaman gently helped his mother ease into it. He kissed her on the cheek, and the elderly woman gazed up at him reproachfully.

“You’re gone for four years, and you don’t come home regularly to see your mother?” she demanded. “I have to get in the car and come all the way out here to God knows where I am, to find you?”

Shaman took the handles of the wheelchair, rolling her toward Tempest. “Mother, I’d like you to meet my wife. This is Tempest Thornbury. Tempest, this is my mother, Millicent.”

Millicent sniffed. “I hope you won’t regret marrying my rude son, Tempest. Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you, Millicent.” She smiled and shook her new mother-in-law’s hand, glancing at Shaman, who had the grace to look a bit sheepish.

“Take me inside before I roast,” Millicent said. “And tell Fitzgerald where he can rest. It’s not easy driving out here, you know. It’s like the center of the earth. And now you’ve caught Xav up in your madness. At least I can count on Kendall. She’ll never leave me,” the woman added with a dramatic sigh.

“We didn’t leave you. We left The Family, Inc.” Shaman rolled his mother around the back so he could wheel her into the kitchen. “Fitzgerald, make yourself comfortable. There’s plenty of stuff to graze on, thanks to Tempest,” he said to his mother’s driver.

Millicent looked at Tempest. “I suppose a wedding gift is in order, even though I wasn’t invited to my son’s wedding.”

“And a baby gift,” Shaman said, “if you’re in a shopping mood, Mom.”

She glanced at Tempest’s stomach. “You always were determined to follow in Gage’s footsteps, Shaman.” She glanced toward the kitchen, where her driver was enjoying a cool glass of tea and some fruit. “Fitzgerald, fix me a toddy, please.”

“Certainly, madam.” He pulled a flask from his suit pocket, preparing to utilize the emergency container.

“That’s not necessary, uh, Fitzgerald.” Tempest glanced at Shaman. “Shaman, please fix your mother a drink. Our cabinet is stocked with anything she might like.”

“Is it?” Shaman went to peer into the unit. “Wow. You are a woman after my own heart.” He looked back at Tempest. “None of this for you, though.”

She shook her head, pleased that she’d surprised Shaman. “Not a drop. Millicent, how do you like your—”

“Whiskey. Neat. No fanfare. I’ve gotten used to drinking out of Fitzgerald’s flask,” Millicent said. “I’m spending more time on the road now that my sons have decided to shirk their duties.”

Tempest smiled at her complaining. “We don’t need a wedding gift, but thank you for offering, Millicent.”

Their visitor sipped the whiskey Shaman handed her, eyeing Tempest. “Go ahead and ask me for a big gift, because I’m about to ask Shaman if he was smart enough to get you to sign a prenup. As beautiful as you are, I’m thinking he didn’t.” She glared at Shaman. “Did you?”

“Hell, no.” He glanced at Tempest. “I don’t even own the roof over my head. She’s welcome to half my guns if she wants them.”

“A big gift,” Tempest said thoughtfully. “I like big gifts, Millicent.”

“Surprise me,” Millicent said. “When Chelsea married Gage, I gave them matching saddles and all the accoutrements. It’s what they wanted. And it cost me a pretty penny.” She sighed. “So go ahead, tell me you want matching boots and hats, or whatever. Because then I’ve got papers for you to sign.”

“How’d you know we’d gotten married? Kendall?” Shaman asked.

Millicent waved a hand, and Fitzgerald dutifully pulled a
USA TODAY
from his coat pocket, handing it to Shaman. There was a picture of Tempest and an announcement that she’d gotten married to a soldier of fortune who’d swept her off her feet. “‘The wedding was very romantic,’” Shaman read. “‘The happy pair is now honeymooning in a private location before Ms. Thornbury returns to her impending role as Lady—’”

“Stop,” Tempest said. “I’m going to kill my agent.”

“Oh,” Shaman said. “I didn’t factor agents into the equation.”

He looked at her, as did Millicent and Fitzgerald, and Tempest felt ridiculous standing here in this tiny house with her other world magnifying their differences.

“Hey, I realize nothing’s ever really real in Hollywood, but I have a couple of quibbles,” Shaman said.

“You are a master quibbler,” his mother interjected.

“It wasn’t a romantic wedding,” Shaman stated.

“No, it wasn’t. But Jack’s a bit of a... He exaggerates.” Tempest was terribly embarrassed. It all sounded so fake, when these people were used to lives that were a bit more realistic.

“It wasn’t romantic?” Millicent said. “Guess I didn’t miss much then. Fitzgerald, top me off, please.”

“And I wasn’t and am not a soldier of fortune,” Shaman said.

Tempest flushed. “I know that. I’m sure Jack thought it sounded exotic.”

“Oh, I realize he was covering the fact that you had a quickie wedding. He was definitely building onto your glamorous résumé.” Shaman shrugged and handed the paper back to Fitzgerald. “Anyway, Mother, as you can see, there’s no need for a prenup.”

Millicent sighed. “You haven’t told her, have you?”

Tempest stared at Shaman. “Told me what?”

“Nothing.” He looked at Millicent. “Not now, Mother.”

“I see.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand why you just don’t—”

“My life is here,” Shaman said. “The Family, Inc., is not mine.”

“It is,” Millicent said. “Here are the papers, and a pen, Tempest.”

“Mother,” Shaman said, practically growling.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Give me that pen,” Tempest said. “Goodness, Shaman, your mother came all the way out here to have these papers signed. It’s not that big a deal.” She flung her signature across the bottom of the pages, one after another, without reading them.

She handed the document back. “Happy?”

“Delighted.” Millicent nodded. “Thank you.”

“Okay. If that’s it, Mother,” Shaman said, “then maybe you’d best—”

“I want my wedding gift,” Tempest said, “if you’re about to run your mother off, which I don’t think you should do, Shaman. She has a right to look out for you.”

“What would you like, my dear?” Millicent asked.

“A very large donation to the local elementary school,” Tempest said. “Folks are having to be a little more careful with their donations, and I hear the town budget is smaller these days. An anonymous donation, unless you’d prefer to make it in your name.”

Millicent blinked. “I didn’t think you’d surprise me, but you have.”

Tempest smiled. “Would you like to see the wedding pictures, Millicent?” She pulled out the album she was taking to Shinny and Blanche.

Millicent grabbed the album from her, glanced through the pages eagerly, then looked up at Shaman. “You got married by an Elvis impersonator?” she demanded. “That seems a bit beneath a Phillips.”

Shaman looked at her driver. “How about a Millicent special for me, too, Fitzgerald?”

The man nodded and made the drink.

“What is going on?” Millicent demanded. “You two are not acting like newlyweds. This feels more like a business transaction.”

“That’s because it kind of is,” Tempest said. “We’re only staying married until after the baby is born.”

Shaman groaned. “Time-out. This is not a business transaction, Tempest. It’s a baby.”

“Actually,” she said, “it’s two babies.”

“What?” Shaman felt a bit light-headed. His mother glanced at him, concerned. “Twins?”

Tempest nodded. “Guess I’m just full of surprises.”

“You certainly are,” Millicent said, her tone somewhat admiring. “I had my four one at a time. Couldn’t have handled them any faster.” She glared at Shaman. “Can’t handle them now.”

Stunned, he shook his head, feeling as if he’d been knocked to his knees. “Tempest, we have to talk.”

“Guess that’s my cue,” Millicent said ruefully. “Ah, well, no one ever wants the mother-in-law around, anyway.”

“I do,” Tempest said quickly. “We’re going to have dinner with Cat and Gage. Please join us, Millicent.”

Shaman’s mother sniffed. “She has manners,” she told her son. “I accept. Gratefully. Fitzgerald is starving. I can hear his stomach rumbling across the room.”

“Yes, ma’am,” her driver said.

“Oh, hell.” Shaman poured another whiskey and handed it to Fitzgerald. “You’re off duty for the night. We might as well all toast the good news my wife has sprung on me. Mother? Dinner?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Millicent said.

“I wasn’t going to,” Shaman said.

“I know,” she replied. “Tempest, you may wheel me to the car. We can all ride together.”

“Here’s to your good fortune, sir,” Fitzgerald said, “and to you, Mrs. Phillips.” He raised his glass, and Shaman nodded.

“It is good fortune. Come on, wife. My mother wants you to do the honors. I think she likes you better than me.”

“It’s all your fault,” Tempest said. “Mothers just want to be treated kindly. Kendall says you have all these barriers, that you can’t just relax—”

“That’s good,” Shaman interrupted, thinking he wasn’t certain how his wife had managed to tame his driven sister and his thick-skinned mother, but she had. “Everyone into the land yacht. No more beating up on me.”

Millicent sniffed. “You bring it on yourself. You’re more like your father than you realize.”

Shaman winced. “I hope not.” He’d been running from the old man’s shadow almost all his life.

If he was anything like Gil Phillips, he wouldn’t have won a woman like Tempest. The thought comforted him as he watched his beautiful wife push his mother’s wheelchair toward the limo.

Then he remembered he hadn’t won Tempest, and she was carrying his twins, and life should be amazing. He should feel like he was on top of the world.

He would be—when she quit insisting their marriage had an expiration date.

Chapter Nine

“Cactus Max’s?” Shaman asked Tempest, but she shook her head as he drove toward town.

He remembered all the portraits and wondered if she didn’t want Millicent to see them.

“If it’s all the same,” Millicent said, “I’d love to go to Cactus Max’s. My darling granddaughter, Cat, tells me there are pictures of you so big in there, Tempest, that they look like they belong in a museum.”

Tempest made what Shaman thought sounded like a groan.

“We know you’re a celeb, babe,” he told her.

“I don’t think it’s the way to make a good impression on one’s mother-in-law.”

“On the contrary,” Millicent said. “Gives me hope that maybe the two of you will be able to keep a roof over your heads. And my grandchildren’s cribs.”

“We’re going to be fine,” Shaman said. “I make enough to keep food on the table.”

“You could make more if you came back home and took your rightful place—”

“I’m going to slide the window up between us, Mother,” Shaman said, and Millicent said, “Oh, never mind. I won’t say another word. Although I am going to invite Tempest to come home with me, Shaman. Just so you know.”

“I’d love to visit your home,” Tempest said, before Shaman could say
don’t even think about it, Mom.

“You really don’t want to,” he insisted, pulling in front of Cactus Max’s.

“Oh, but I do. Cat says it’s like a palace.”

Now it was his turn to groan. “Now who’s going to get the wrong impression?”

“Not me,” Millicent said. “I just came along to bring a smile to everyone’s stiff upper lips.”

“And you’re succeeding,” Tempest told her.

Shaman shook his head. “I’m surrounded by females whose greatest joy is to torture me.”

“Exactly. And look who has arrived,” Tempest said in delight, as Cat and Gage and Chelsea met them at the entrance. “How did you get here so quickly?” she asked, watching Cat fling her arms around her grandmother.