by Tina Leonard
Shaman cleared his throat. “I think my question was more rhetorical. What I meant was, why does everyone have your number except me?”
“You never asked,” Tempest said reasonably.
He blinked. “I guess that’s true.”
“But you have it now,” she continued. “Although I know that’s probably counterproductive to the status of our relationship.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well,” she said, “you never wanted a relationship. You made that clear. So you never asked for my number or anything.”
“Now look here, Little Red Riding Hood,” he said, “you were the one who showed up with your picnic basket whenever you had the urge.”
“I knew I’d never get you off the ranch,” Tempest said. “You’re kind of a hermit. You shocked me when you took me out. Anyway, how’s your head?”
“My head is fine.” He didn’t want to talk about that. “Are you saying that you felt like I didn’t want you?”
“I think you’re a loner, and if I wanted to bring you food, you’d let me.”
“A little more than food, Cupertino,” Shaman said. “We should have talked more and—”
“Dined less,” Tempest interjected.
“I guess.” Shaman rubbed his face. “So listen, I’m glad you called. First, I want to congratulate you. The grapevine works this way, too, you know, and it’s let me know you’ve received some kind of awesome offer that’s going to kick your career into overdrive.”
“We’ll see,” Tempest said. “I like the project.”
“And, apparently,” Shaman said, ticking down his list, “you’re crazy about me.”
“Did you hear that from the grapevine, too?”
“Yes, I did.” It was a tiny fib. The grapevine said he was crazy about her. But there was no reason to give away all the house cards just yet. He wanted to see what she’d say first.
“Funny,” Tempest said, “the town grapevine told me that you were walleyed nuts for me.”
He grinned in the darkness, glad she couldn’t see him. “It’s a twisted vine.”
“I guess so.”
“So now that you’re calling me, still pursuing me,” Shaman said, “I have a proposal for you. It’s not a Hollywood contract type of proposal, but it’s one that might interest you.”
“I consider all proposals and offers,” Tempest said.
It was worth a shot. “About that baby Cat said you wanted.”
The silence stretched out. “I might want a child one day.”
“Mmm. And if you decide you do, I wouldn’t mind letting you try to have that baby with me.”
“That’s nice to know, soldier.”
“I thought you might think so. But here’s the hook—”
“There’s always a hook with you.”
“You have to marry me first. Then we’d practice. I’m not saying I want to get married,” Shaman said. “I’m just saying that if you decide the bright lights aren’t what you want, and that you want to see if you can handle the heat back here in Tempest, maybe I’ll let you get in bed with me again, with that intent in mind.”
“Well, that is an offer I’ll have to ponder,” Tempest said. “Considering I’ve been chasing you all this time, cowboy, I’m not sure you’re ready for a more serious situation.”
“You’re the one who was going to leave without saying goodbye.”
“I figured you wouldn’t notice. Then I realized bears get hungry after a long winter’s hibernation, and it was the picnic basket you’d miss.”
“Exactly,” Shaman said. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now that you’re gone.”
“Learn to cook?”
“Doubt it,” Shaman replied. “Good night, Cupertino.”
“Shaman,” Tempest said, “you didn’t tell me how you hurt your head.”
He wasn’t about to, either. There was something going on here, a little forward progress he hadn’t been expecting, and he wasn’t about to blow it with her feeling guilty. Which she would, if she knew Bobby Taylor had taken a crack at him. “You always warned me about being on roofs,” he murmured.
“You’re dumb,” she said.
“Probably. Thanks for the call, Cupertino.”
“’Bye, soldier.”
She hung up and Shaman tossed his phone on the coffee table. Yes, there was some forward progress. It still might not go anywhere—right now, she had a little nostalgia, maybe a little fear of the new job, so she was reaching out to the comfortable known.
But if she decided she wanted to be a little more forward still, he’d be right here waiting for her.
* * *
THREE WEEKS LATER, Tempest realized that the stomachaches she was having had nothing to do with nerves. Something else was bugging her. She went to the doctor and described her symptoms.
When they asked her to take a pregnancy test, Tempest laughed out loud. “There’s no way,” she said.
“I know, I know,” the nurse said. “The doc can be a crazy old fool sometimes. Humor him and use the cup.”
She did, shaking her head. Shaman had been vigilant about using protection. There’d been no wild-and-crazy, passion-blinded moments. The man was serious about not having children. Oh, he talked big, a real good game—but actions spoke louder than words. He practically wrapped up like a mummy before he touched her.
“Guess what?” the nurse said, handing her a tiny white stick with a blue line across it.
Tempest stared at the blue line. “You cannot be serious.”
The nurse laughed. “Like I said, the doc’s a crazy old fool—crazy like a fox.”
“Are you sure my test didn’t get mixed up with someone else’s?” Tempest’s ears seemed to be ringing with chimes or bells or something. Alarm bells.
A pregnancy would mess everything up. Everything.
“You’re the only one the doc wanted to test for pregnancy today,” the nurse said cheerfully. “Congratulations, you win the prize.”
“I guess so.” Tempest’s mind felt dull and slow. “How can this happen? We used condoms every time. Every single time.”
The nurse shook her head. “Not completely foolproof. Good, but not perfect. There’s really no perfect birth control, to be honest. Very, very close to perfect, but still, we see this kind of thing all the time. Condoms are about ninety-eight percent effective. You can get dressed now, and we’ll make an appointment to have your first prenatal checkup.”
“Thank you,” Tempest said. She dressed quickly, her brain frozen. Shaman hadn’t called her since the night he’d hurt his head. He’d made a big deal out of finally having her number, but then never called.
As her mother always said, if a man was interested, he figured out how to dial a phone. She supposed her mom had known what she was talking about, if she’d gotten Bud Taylor to use the phone. Bud had been a total recluse. The only time he’d left the house was to broker a deal, see his lawyer, grab a bite in town. Mostly he had his groceries brought to him at the farmhouse.
In that, he and Shaman were a lot alike.
Tempest squeezed her eyes shut for an instant, then put her hand on her stomach, feeling a thrill that she was going to be a mother. Secretly, this was her dream come true.
“It doesn’t matter about the cowboy soldier,” she said. “You’ve got me. Welcome to the world, little baby.”
What difference did it make if history might be repeating itself just a bit?
* * *
SHAMAN RUBBED HIS EYES when he saw the Land Rover parked outside the farmhouse. It wasn’t Kendall’s; she was in Diablo with Cat and Gage, and generally trying to keep her twin, Xav, away from the “gold digger,” a topic Shaman had heard more about than he ever wanted. The only other person he knew who drove one of those cars was Tempest.
He strolled up to the house, looking for his surprise visitor.
Tempest sat on the porch in the swing, looking so beautiful Shaman thought he could wait on her forever, if she�
�d just show up every once in a while to make him feel the things only she made him feel.
It was almost worth the wait.
“Hi,” she said.
“They give you a break from filming, or whatever it is you do?”
Tempest didn’t smile at him, didn’t get up. “I quit the production.” Her face seemed strained as she said it.
“Sorry to hear that. Didn’t you like it?”
“I liked it a lot. Turn around and take off your hat, please.”
She wanted to see his busted noggin. He wasn’t going to acquiesce. “That’s not one of your better come-on lines, Cupertino.”
“Probably not,” she said. “Let me see the damage.”
“No damage,” he said. “Barely a scratch.”
A truck rumbling up the drive caught Shaman’s attention. “Is that Jonas’s truck?”
“I think so—”
“Does he have Cat with him?”
Tempest stood. “It looks like he might.”
“This is great! You did not see me.” He raced inside, grabbed a water gun and ran back outside.
“Shaman!” Tempest exclaimed.
“Shh,” he said, hurrying around the side of the house. He squatted low, hidden from view. “Don’t rat me out.”
“You can’t squirt your niece!”
“I can. And I will. She has it coming to her.”
“You’re an unnatural uncle,” Tempest said under her breath, just loud enough so he could hear. “I don’t think I ever saw this side of you.”
“Hi, Tempest!” Cat exclaimed, rushing from the truck to hug her. “I didn’t know you were back in town!”
“Hi, honey.” She lowered her voice, as if whispering to someone stage right. “Your uncle is at the side of the house, ready to douse you with his water gun.”
“Okay. I’ll get him.” Cat went running back to Jonas. “Uncle Shaman’s hiding on the side of the house, about to ambush me with his soaker gun. Distract him, Uncle Jonas.”
“Easy to do.” He walked toward Tempest, who smiled at him.
“Hello, Tempest,” Jonas said. “So how’s the big city treating you?”
She watched as Cat got her water blaster from the truck, sneaking around the opposite side of the house so she could trail Shaman. Tempest grinned. “The big city’s nice.”
Jonas nodded. “Any truth to the rumor that you’re expecting a baby?”
Chapter Six
“What?” Tempest said, stunned.
“What?” Shaman exclaimed—and then yelled as Cat fired. It sounded like a direct hit; Shaman’s roar brought an explosion of giggles from a delighted Cat. Tempest couldn’t help laughing, proud of Cat for getting to Shaman before he could get to her.
Fairly drenched and a bit wild-eyed, Shaman came around the house to stare at Tempest. His eyes went to her stomach, then to her face. He glanced at Jonas for confirmation. “Did I hear him right?”
His shirt was soaking wet, and water dripped from his hair. Cat had certainly won this battle. Tempest smiled. “Jonas was just trying to draw you off guard, Shaman. It was sneaky, but it worked.”
Cat came out of hiding, giggling. “Uncle Shaman, you should see your face!”
“Did I spill some beans?” Jonas asked. “Cat mentioned something about a baby, but I might have misunderstood.”
“Yes, I am expecting a baby,” Tempest said, sighing.
Shaman looked shell-shocked, and Jonas laughed out loud. “Congratulations,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.
“Am I going to be a father?” Shaman asked.
She nodded, silently watching him. Tempest didn’t think she’d ever seen him look more handsome. It was the look of incredulousness on his face that stole her heart.
“This isn’t good,” Shaman said. “You’re not the marrying kind.”
“Uh, Cat, honey, why don’t we go check out Candy and see how Shaman’s doing with training my beautiful mustang?” Jonas suggested.
“Okay.” Cat happily followed him with her water gun.
“I might be the marrying kind one day,” Tempest said.
“You were supposed to marry me and then we were going to go for baby. This is all backward.” Shaman shook his head. “The baby was the hook.”
“The hook?”
“To get you to marry me. Now you’ve got the baby, you don’t need me.” Shaman sopped some water off his face with his sleeve. “Marry me, Cupertino.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me how it happened?” she said. “Aren’t you the slightest bit curious? You were so careful.”
“I know how it happened,” Shaman declared. “Tempest, I spent every second I could making love to you. Condoms are not one hundred percent effective.” He sighed. “I should have told you no.”
“Told me no?” Tempest was outraged.
He nodded. “I should have. The thing was, I couldn’t resist you. No man could.”
“Well.” She leaned back, not exactly mollified. “I don’t know about that. Anyway, you’re stalling. Let me see your stitches.”
“They took them out. There’s nothing to see.”
“That’ll teach you to climb up on roofs.”
“Probably not,” he said. “I don’t suppose I can talk you into marrying me when we only had one date.”
“Does seem a bit premature.”
“So does having a baby.”
Tempest shrugged. “True. You know, babies grow up to be little girls toting water pistols.”
“Are we having a girl?”
Tempest smiled. “Do you really want to know?”
He came and sat beside her. “You don’t even know, Cupertino. It’s too soon.”
“But will you want to know?”
He sighed. “Either way, the baby’ll probably learn practical jokes from the Callahans before it’s taller than my knee. Callahans are equal opportunity pranksters. You see what they’ve done for Cat.”
Tempest flicked his forearm with her finger. “I didn’t say the baby was going to be raised around here.”
He leaned back on his elbows, a raffish, handsome man not worried about anything in his world. “The baby will be raised, Cupertino, wherever I have a job. So go ahead and stew about that. You’ve got nine months to give me plenty of lip about it.”
She didn’t have to. She didn’t know Shaman well, but she’d seen him in action—and she’d known he was going to feel that way about his child.
It was one of the things she really, really liked about him.
* * *
THE EVENING WAS BEAUTIFUL and crisp, and Shaman would have taken the time to enjoy the expansive quiet of Dark Diablo, but his twin siblings were staring at him, wanting him to play referee. It wasn’t going to do them any good, because there was no playbook as far as those two were concerned.
“I’m staying,” Xav said. “Jonas offered me a job, and I’m going to take it.”
Kendall sighed dramatically. Cupertino had left, leaving Shaman in a mess of conflicted emotions. Jonas had returned home with Cat, so Shaman had been sitting on the porch swing, staring up at the half-moon, trying to figure out what he was going to do about Tempest.
Then his sister and brother had driven up, their disagreement apparent as they walked up to the porch.
“Do something, Shaman,” Kendall pleaded. “I don’t know what it is about this place. You guys get out here and you lose touch with reality.”
Shaman grinned at his brother. “Liked Rancho Diablo, did you?”
“I never realized there could be so much silence,” Xav said. “No fax machines, no ringing phones, nothing. This is what I need in my life. I heard a coyote last night.” His face held a look of ecstasy. “The sound of the rat race is pretty deafening, bro.”
“What about the girlfriend?” Kendall demanded, her tone a little desperate.
He shrugged. “Shaman doesn’t have one. He’s not married. And he’s fine. Gage only just got married, and he’s four years older than me. I’ve re
considered this marriage thing. I don’t want to jump too soon.”
“Well, about me having a girlfriend—” Shaman began.
“What about Mom? Who’s going to take care of her?”
Shaman and Xav both stared at Kendall. Even Shaman thought she was stretching the pity party.
“Millicent will be fine. She will outlive us all,” Xav said, “and that’s a good thing. You and Mom can run Gil Phillips, Inc., which will make you both happy. And I,” he said with a contented sigh, “am going to learn to build things, use my muscles and commune with owls. That’s what Jonas said. Spirit owls.”
“Oh, no,” Kendall moaned. “Look what you’ve done!” she told Shaman.
He shrugged. “You know, sis, he’s got a point.”
“He does not!”
“I do,” Xav said. “I’m going to cede all my shares in the company over to you, sis.”
“Moratorium on life plans, Xav,” Shaman said, “before your twin’s head pops off. Go easy, bro.”
“Xav, you and I have been running the company together for years,” Kendall said. “How would I do it all by myself?”
He kissed his sister on the forehead, drawing a frown from her.
Shaman grinned. “Kendall, there has never been anything in life you couldn’t face on your own.”
“That’s right,” Xav said. “Beautiful, smart—Gil Phillips in female form.”
“That’s just great,” Kendall said. “What if I decide to just take a midlife detour? Go off the deep end? Commune with spirit owls?” Her hands were on her hips.
“We’d sell the company,” Shaman said, and Kendall gasped. “Anyway, I’m having a baby. Let’s go celebrate my fatherhood and Xav’s decision to commune with nature.”
“A baby?” Xav and Kendall echoed, sounding like the twins they were.
“Apparently,” Shaman said, feeling really good about everything except how he was going to get Tempest to marry him. That would be a puzzle, a holy grail in itself. He couldn’t worry about that right now, though; he felt like he was walking on air and nothing could bring him down.
“Wow,” Kendall said. “With the big blonde?”
“I prefer to think of Tempest as delicate. Elegant. Just right.”