(Calahan Cowboys 08) The Cowboy Soldier's Sons (3 page)

“Yeah.” Shaman liked her, too. His gaze went back to the giant bulldozer about to push into the enormous old barn. “She’s real nice.”

“No, no.” Gage shook his head. “You don’t understand. Tempest is a good woman.”

“I got that. You’re getting twisted up for nothing, bro. Listen, Cupertino brings me dinner. I guess she thinks I’m starving. And I say thanks, because the truth is, she’s a darn good cook. And I like to look at her.” He shook his head. “You can’t expect me to turn that down.”

Gage was clearly astonished. After a minute, he said, “You call her Cupertino?”

“That’s her name.”

“But do you know who she is?” he demanded.

“She’s a woman who grew up in Tempest.” Shaman didn’t see what the big deal was. It wasn’t like he was sending out engraved invitations begging her to come by. She showed up when she wanted, she left when she wanted.

“She’s in negotiation right now for a starring role in a major Broadway production that might be turned into a movie, for one thing,” his brother told him.

“Is she?” Shaman watched the bulldozer tear into the first wall, collapsing it. Dust and bits of wood flew everywhere.

“If you’d read the newspaper, you’d know that,” Gage said. “The
New York Times
publishes a Sunday edition that’s really quite informative, if you cared to learn about the world around you.”

He laughed. “The paperboy must have left me off the route.”

“Online
Times
is just fine. You can read it every day. Takes very little effort. You get twenty free articles the first month, and if you decide you like being informed about the world outside of your shell, you can subscribe. It’s great.”

“Yeah, well. There’s no internet here. If you haven’t noticed, we’re miles from civilization.” And Shaman didn’t really care. He liked the setup just the way it was. He didn’t want to know more about the woman than he did. Whatever it was that she wanted from him, it suited him well.

“There is internet,” Gage stated. “In fact, the internet is how Cat found Tempest in the first place.”

That caught Shaman’s attention. “Our niece wrote her?”

“Yes. Cat wanted Tempest to come home. She thought my wife’s writing creativity would get a boost if she met Tempest. Cat had other reasons for choosing her for pen pal status, but that’s the main idea. So don’t tell me the internet doesn’t work. It’s what brought her all the way from Italy.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’ll go to her gig when she’s ready. In the meantime, she doesn’t look like she’s suffering, does she?” Shaman asked, crossing his arms. “I mean, if you’re trying to infer that she can do better than me, I’ll be the first to admit I’m no prince, bro.”

Gage shook his head. There probably would have been more discussion of the wonders of the woman who seemed to want nothing more than nights in Shaman’s arms, but two walls collapsed on the barn, and workers started yelling and running around, ending the debate.

Thankfully. Because if he heard any more about what a goddess she was, he was going to have to tell her to take her picnic basket and hit the road. Shaman knew that, like the beast in the fairy tale, you should just appreciate the pretty things in life—while in the back of your mind you heard your mother saying, “Don’t touch anything in the store! You might break it.” You heard your father say, “A woman only wants a man with money and power.”

One day it’ll be over.

Right now, I just try to make her happy.

Chapter Two

“We’re going to have to quit meeting like this.” Shaman got out of bed, glancing back at the beautiful blonde gracing his sheets.

Tempest rose, too, dragging the sheet with her. If he had more time, he’d consider snatching it off her and tumbling them both back into bed.

“Shaman,” she said, “it’s not forever.”

He wondered what was happening about her negotiations for the Broadway show, but wasn’t about to ask. She’d never mentioned her career, so presumably it was something she didn’t care to discuss, at least not with him. “Yeah,” he said. “Forever’s a tough thing to plan.”

She smiled. “I’m going to get dressed.”

He turned away. “Be my guest. The workers arrived about ten minutes ago, so I’m going to head out.”

“Thanks.” She took her sheet into the bathroom with her, wrapped toga-style, goddesslike. He stared at the door for a long moment, briefly pondering taking her in the shower, then decided maybe she wouldn’t welcome that. These “visitations” of hers were strictly on her terms.

He finished dressing and took off for the barn, snagging a bagel from the stash Tempest had put on the counter.

Then again, one never knew which visit would be the last. He was not a man to look at destiny without a measure of appreciation—and she
had
mentioned “not forever,” though they’d never talked about the future before. A warning sensation shifted inside him, a prickling of unease. Intuition was a powerful thing, whether in looking out for mines and roadside bombs, or knowing that eventually a woman like her was ready to move on.

“What the hell,” Shaman said, and went back inside to appreciate the best thing that had happened to him in years.

* * *

I
T HAD BEEN TWO DAYS
since she’d seen Shaman. Tempest was trying to figure out why spending time with him was beginning to matter so much to her. He was kind and strong, qualities that really called to her.

But she needed distance. Deeply felt the need for some space. So today she was renewing a special friendship instead of concentrating on hunky cowboys. She’d brought Cat Phillips, Shaman’s niece, to share a Shinny “special” with her. The change in the teen from sullen to happy heartened Tempest, made her yearn for the same sort of carefree joy in her own life.

“My dad says,” Cat Phillips began, settling into the red-lipstick-colored booth, “that you’re a short-timer.”

She smiled at the teen. “A short-timer here in Tempest?”

Cat nodded, slurping the chocolate milkshake Shinny had made. “Dad says this is too much of a backwater for you. He says that even if you do like Uncle Shaman, you won’t stay because there’s nothing here.” The teen shrugged. “I thought that once, too. Now I think there’s lots here.”

“It’s good that your father talks to you so much,” Tempest said, not really wanting to speak about the short-timer tag that had been hung on her.

“He didn’t talk to me about you and Uncle Shaman,” Cat said. “I heard him telling Chelsea that he doesn’t expect you to be around much longer, which is a good thing, because he doesn’t want Shaman to break your heart.”

Tempest blinked. “Really.”

“Mmm.” The girl nodded, her freshly bobbed black hair moving as she eagerly reached for the cookies Shinny’s wife, Blanche, placed in front of them before heading away from their booth. “Dad says Uncle Shaman is damaged goods, for one thing, now that he’s been in the military so long. He also says my uncle’s stubborn as hell, and he won’t do anything but hide out at Dark Diablo.”

“I’m a little reclusive at times myself,” Tempest said. “It’s not always a bad thing.”

“Yeah, but Dad says Aunt Kendall and Uncle Xav are bugging him to get Shaman home. They say he refuses to even discuss it while you’re in town.”

Tempest hesitated. “Where is Shaman’s home?”

“In Texas. Hell’s Colony.” Cat squinted, obviously thinking. “It’s kind of a palace.”

“A palace?” Tempest couldn’t envision Shaman in a palace. He seemed as one with the outdoors, fully connected to ranch life.

“Kind of.” She shrugged, fumbling for a description. “But anyway, Dad says the pressure’s on for Shaman to go home, though when he brings it up, Uncle Shaman tells him to get bent. I’m not supposed to say
get bent.
” Cat shrugged. “But it’s what Dad said.”

Tempest hated to be part of any discord in Shaman’s life. He was kind to her, and she enjoyed their time together. She didn’t want Cat upset, either. She was fond of the girl, and if it hadn’t been for her, Tempest knew she might not ever have returned to the small town where she’d grown up—and had such an unhappy childhood.

Yet it was best to face things one had ignored too long. “I feel badly that your father thinks I’m keeping your uncle from his family.”

“No,” Cat said. “Chelsea said Uncle Shaman wouldn’t go home anyway, and that Dad had been plenty hard to rope back into the fold himself, so he needed to butt out of Shaman’s life. And then I think Dad must have agreed, because I heard a lot of snacking going on after that.” She looked at Tempest wisely. “Snacking is what I call it when Daddy’s smooching on Chelsea. Lots of little snacking noises.”

Tempest smiled. “I’m glad they’re happy.”

“They are. We all are. I love Rancho Diablo!” Cat grinned, her pert little face shining with delight. “I like Dark Diablo, too, but there’s no kids. Dad says Uncle Shaman needs some ankle-biters to tie him to one place, and Chelsea said he’d better tend to his own ankles before he worried about his brothers’ and sister’s.”

“I heard you’re going to be a big sister,” Tempest said.

“I am. I can’t wait! Of course, I won’t be able to come visit as often, once I have my brother or sister.” She again looked at Tempest with those wise eyes. “I’ll miss you, but I’ll be very busy taking care of the baby, you know.”

Tempest grinned, delighted with the changes in the once-angsty Cat. “I know. I understand completely. If I had a baby, I would want you to be my chief babysitter.”

“Maybe you’ll have a baby one day, Tempest,” Cat said. “There’s Dad, so I have to go. He said he’d drop me off for a visit only if I came right out when he was ready to leave. He said it wouldn’t take long for him to pound the stuffing out of Uncle Shaman, and then we had to hit the road. He doesn’t like to be away from Chelsea for long. Thank you again for the cool headband you gave me. I really love it.” She hugged her, a good, strong hug that warmed Tempest, then ran to say goodbye to Shinny and Blanche. “Goodbye! Thank you for the delicious ice cream!”

They waved at the thin teen as she ran out the door. From the window, Tempest watched as Cat jumped into her father’s truck.

“She never fails to brighten our day,” Shinny said, coming over to take Cat’s seat. “That is one happy little girl.”

Tempest nodded. “Yes, she is.”

“Funny, but I think you had a part in that,” he added.

Tempest looked at the older gentleman regarding her with smiling eyes. “Cat made all her changes on her own.”

“Yeah, but you believed in her enough to come back to town. It means a lot to kids when people they admire notice them.”

Tempest remembered when Cat had been a sadder version of herself. “She has good parents now.”

Shinny nodded. “She reminds me of you, in a way.”

“I don’t know.” Tempest swirled the straw in her milkshake, not really feeling like thinking about her own childhood. “Is there anything I can do to help you, before I go?”

“Nope.” Shinny patted her hand. “You go rest. Blanche and I’ll see you at dinner.”

Nodding, she got up and gave him a kiss on his almost-bald head, then left the shop. She wondered why Gage would want to pound the stuffing out of his brother, then decided it didn’t have anything to do with her.

* * *

I
T WAS NOT
S
HAMAN’S BEST
day.

First, Gage had run by with a full head of steam to rag all over him about the barn contractor—who Gage had fired. Jonas Callahan didn’t like the contractor’s vision—and now it was up to Shaman to figure out what was in Jonas’s head. In spite of that, this job was a great one to oversee, so he had no quibbles. He just wanted it to go more smoothly than it was, given that his boss had just changed his mind about everything.

Bosses tended to do that, and he’d suffered enough annoyed superior officers to take an occasional ear-bending in stride.

Still, he could have used a break in the action before the land mine that was his sister drove onto the ranch. From the roof of the farmhouse, Shaman could see Kendall’s car edging up the drive. He knew it was her because she was driving a black Land Rover. It seemed the whole family fleet had been replaced with matching black Land Rovers, if Gage had the information right. Gil Phillips, Inc., was all about uniformity.

He sat on the roof, watching Kendall as she got out of her car. She wore a ladylike cream-colored skirt and jacket, and turquoise-blue sky-high heels. Some things never changed.

“Hi,” she called up to him.

“Howdy.”

“Get the hell off the roof, please. It’s dangerous.”

He laughed. “This isn’t dangerous. I know dangerous, and I’ll tell you when I see it.”

She was annoyed, he could tell. “We need to talk.”

Obviously, since she’d driven over from Hell’s Colony. “You have a cell phone. Doesn’t it work?” He climbed down the ladder, deciding it was best to obey his little sister when she was in her bossy element.

“Mom wants you to come home,” Kendall said, following him inside.

Shaman washed his hands at the sink, his mind on the condition of the farmhouse roof. It had occurred to him that if Jonas was going to hire a contractor who would subcontract out the roofs for the outbuildings, maybe getting this one replaced at the same time would be financially expedient. In his opinion, it was badly needed.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” He looked at his sister.

Kendall sat on the old leather-topped stool in front of the counter. “Mom wants you to come home.”

“Because?”

“Because you can do this kind of work there. She says you spent enough years away in the military.” His sister’s face softened as she looked at him. “We miss you.”

“I miss you, too, but this is my job.”

“You have a job. It’s called Gil Phillips, Inc.,” she reminded him.

“This is a paying job, something not all of my friends have been able to find once they got back to the States. Besides, haven’t you heard you can never go home?”

Kendall gave him a look of disgust. “That’s for other people. Our home represents our livelihood.”

Shaman smiled at her. “Not mine.”

“You’re being difficult, Shaman. What is it about this place that has you and Gage so obsessed?” She glanced around the airy kitchen. “Really, it’s kind of a dump.”