by Gale Storm
“Tarry, come on, lay back and quit looking as if you want to kill someone. Lordy, you'd think Tyrone brought you here to humiliate you or something. I'm sure—"
“What are you sure of, David? That he did this for my good, or to keep me from suing him for shooting Cedar and me? Believe me, Davy, he did this for one reason only—to keep his good name out of the gossip rags. How would it look for a man of his reputation to be accused of shooting a defenseless woman?"
David's laugher echoed into the hall. “Tarry, when you're with your breeds, you're about as defenseless as a Sherman tank. Calm down, sis. I've never seen you so worked up."
“It's thanks to you he came up to the cabin in the first place. He's caused me nothing but trouble and pain.” Her eyes glistened as she stared at her brother. She felt incredibly weak suddenly. A hopelessness consumed her as she blinked, trying to hide the extra moisture in her eyes; but her brother noticed it as he touched her hair. She knew she was being less than rational, yet she felt her very existence was threatened by Tyrone's interference in her life.
“Tarry, Tarry, I've never seen you like this. Does it hurt so badly? God, if we had known. Thank the Lord Tyrone flew in for you tonight. By tomorrow...?"
She felt his shudder as he continued to run his fingers over her hand.
“You aren't listening,” she tried to protest. “It's because of your Mr. Shields that I'm here in the first place. David, get me out of here, take me home."
“Shush, angel, you've been through a hard time. Tyrone told me about last night, the fever ... how you suffered nightmares and couldn't sleep.” She looked at him blankly. Last night she had a run-in with Torpon and burned her bottom. For heaven's sake, what was David talking about? She closed her eyes. Maybe he was right, she needed to calm down and take things slower.
It seemed to Tarry that the next few hours passed in a blur of activity as she was admitted and given medication, x-rayed, then wheeled into surgery. Nothing made sense when she awoke. David finally left her after the hospital's visiting hours. Even by then, she still wasn't clear on how or why she was here, even why the surgery was necessary. She rolled onto her unhurt side and stared at the white wall in front of her. Tomorrow she would go home and, hopefully, forget everything that Tyrone Shields had done to disrupt her life.
She was concentrating so hard on that thought she didn't hear the door open, or footsteps as someone walked around the end of her bed. It was a movement in her peripheral vision that put her on the alert. Her eyes dilated as they met faded blue ones.
“I don't want you here,” she whispered as she squeezed her eyes closed, hoping it was her imagination that brought him here at this hour.
“How are you, Tarry?” His mellow voice touched her and sent shivers up her spine.
“I told you I don't want you here,” she said clearly as he touched her limp hand and she jerked away.
“I know you don't, but I need to talk to you."
“It isn't mutual."
“I'm beginning to think nothing is with you, lady."
She stared at him. Was he mocking her or teasing her? Whatever he was doing she was sure he knew he was taking advantage of her.
“I'm very tired. Say what you have to say then, please, leave me alone."
“The doctor has assured me that if the antibiotic he has given you brings the fever down overnight, you can go home by Saturday. Of course, that will depend on the weather. Charley will fly your brother Dwayne to the cabin first thing tomorrow, and—"
“I don't need any more of your help. After all, I have five grown brothers who are more than willing to do anything I ask."
“I'm sure they would do anything for you, Tarry, but I insist—"
“You insist!” How arrogant, and totally dictatorial. “It's my life, my room, my wolves."
“It may be your life and your body, Tarry, but at the moment I've decided someone has to take care of you; and since your brothers haven't done it, and you haven't the sense to do it, I'm taking over."
She sat straight, fire coursing through her veins as all her former anger returned. She ignored the sharp pain in her side.
“You're doing what? Who asked for the favor?” Her movement brought her within touching distance of him. Their eyes were level.
“No one asked me to do it. I volunteered. You'll find that I often volunteer to do things for others. Destroys the selfish image you've painted of me, doesn't it?"
She met his eyes fiercely as she faced him. “And if I don't want your self-appointed help?"
“Then you're going to have to learn to back down gracefully, Miss Tarralee Roessel."
She flushed. When had he learned her full name? She felt at a sudden disadvantage, with nowhere to hide.
“Why don't you use your real name, Tarralee? It's as beautiful and unique as you are. I think you are the most intriguing women I've ever met.” If it was his intention to disarm her, he failed.
“And I think you are the most brazen, horrible men I've ever had the misfortune to meet. Now that we've been candid with each other, would you please leave my room?"
His lips twitched slightly as he stared into her flushed face. He tilted his head slightly as she sucked in a deep breath. She felt like a drowning victim as he held her gaze with his dark one.
“I wonder why you dislike me so much? Most people find me intriguing, even witty. Slightly disconcerting, yes, but definitely not horrible."
In exasperation she released a long, hot breath, fanning his face with it as she trembled. Unfortunately, he was not only charming but handsome, and she forced herself to remember her anger. She was about to threaten to call a nurse and have him evicted from the hospital when he reached out a finger and ran it lightly over her lower lip.
“Good night, Miss Tarralee Roessel. Sleep well.” Before she realized his intention he leaned down and brushed her parted lips with his cool ones. His hand rose and cupped the back of her head, holding her firmly as he trailed his lips across her cheek to her ear. “You're sweet, Tarry,” he whispered. “Like a wild creature, innocent, untamed, unaware. I like you, Tarry. I like you too much to see you making yourself ill with pent-up anger and frustration because of me. I'll be by in the morning to say my goodbyes."
He trailed his lips across her cheek and touched her lips again with a feathery brush, then turned and disappeared through the doorway.
The man was totally insane, she thought as she collapsed back against her pillow. He was arrogant, conceited, and ... disconcerting, to use his words. She wasn't sure if she hated him, or was charmed in spite of herself. Of course, that was what the last scene was about, she thought—to disconcert her, make her doubt her reaction to him. He had plenty of practice doing it, she was certain. After all, what else did a director do, besides charm people into doing what he wanted them to do?
Tarry hugged herself as she turned onto her back. Even David was taken in by his easy charm and calculated manners. How to beat him at his game was the big question. The best way was not to give in to him, she decided. That action would destroy his plans, ruin his movie—and it was simple. If she didn't agree to participate, then there would be no picture.
Satisfied with this thought she lay on her side and touched her lips and cheek. But why had he kissed her? She supposed that was as easy to explain as his ambitions. But as the cynical thought formed in her mind she recalled the feather touch of his hand in her hair and his whisper. He said he liked her. Ha! He called her innocent, untamed and unaware. Unaware of what, she wondered? Men, sex, life in general or just him?
She knew she wasn't sophisticated or educated in the school sense, but she had studied her brother's schoolbooks as they worked themselves through public school and college. She might not have a degree behind her name, but she was educated. Experienced in the ways of the world? She knew she lacked sophistication, but she certainly wasn't naive. Her brothers and nature had seen to that. No, he had been trying to throw her, disarm her; but she wasn't fooled. What
Tyrone Shields wanted he usually got, and he wasn't beyond using whatever tactics it took to make sure of reaching his goals. She would be wise to remember that.
Tarry closed her eyes, resting her hand against her cheek. But it did feel nice to have him pay attention to her. His lips had caused a rush of blood to warm her belly. She knew she shouldn't allow herself to remember so vividly, but as she slipped into sleep the last thing she noticed was a lingering masculine smell on her fingertips. His smell. It was pleasant, and her lips curved into a smile as she recalled the warmth of his voice before he left her.
* * * * *
The nurse woke her at six on Saturday morning, and Tarry stretched and yawned as the gray winter light flooded the private room. She washed her face, and then the doctor arrived on his normal rounds. He was very pleased with her progress.
“You can go home today, Miss Roessel. When do you expect your brother or boyfriend by?” He was studying the chart and didn't see her flush or the angry light that brightened her black eyes.
“My brother will be in this morning."
“Good. Now I want you to keep the wound clean and to rest for a week—or, preferably, a month. Bullet wounds are prone to infection, and your rib was injured. No heavy lifting, skiing or sledding, understand?"
He resealed the bandage across her middle, gave her further instructions and was just turning to leave when the door opened and Tyrone walked in carrying her breakfast tray.
“Good morning, Doctor. How is our patient this morning?” He didn't even look at Tarry as he set the tray on the rolling bedside table and turned to the physician for a report. He was acting as though he were her husband with every right to know the intimate details of her recovery. The doctor smiled at him, immediately giving him the information he sought. Then he nodded at both of them and disappeared through the door. Tyrone turned slowly to face Tarry, lifting a dark eyebrow as he noted the sparks coming from her eyes.
“Good morning, Tarralee. Still angry, I see.” He smiled charmingly as he walked up to the side of the bed, standing directly in front of her. “I suppose the bed must have been uncomfortable, or was it too big?"
“I was hoping never to see or hear from you again. It's been nice to think you might have dropped off the edge of the planet during the past few hours."
He had not returned after his evening intrusion, and David had said he didn't know where he was.
“Are you always so defensive, Tarralee?” he asked as he made himself comfortable in the chair next to her bed.
With a flourish, she threw the bedclothes to the side and stood to confront him, immediately realizing it was a mistake as she tilted her head backwards and the tape pulled against her stomach. He was instantly on his feet, his hands ready to catch her in case she fell.
“Get out of here, Tyrone. Get out now."
At five-feet-eleven, Tyrone seemed to tower over her. His self-assurance was that of a giant as he studied her flushed face with a mixture of puzzlement and admiration.
“Do you always run on such adrenalin, woman? You do know about stress and its effects on the body, don't you? Maybe I should discuss your emotional state with a specialist."
“Y-you—you brute. Damn you, Tyrone.” She reacted to his goading by glaring into his blue eyes. “I never asked you to interfere in my life in the first place. Believe it or not, until you arrived, my life was calm and organized and I never raised my voice! As far as I'm concerned you can go back to your tinsel world of Hollywood and never come near me again!"
Unperturbed, he sat on the bed. “Tarralee. Tarry, what am I to do with you?” He shook his head solemnly. “Ah, David. Do you know how to smooth the fur on this wildcat?"
“Wildcat?” David, who had just entered, repeated, looking puzzled. He glanced between them, reading instantly the sparks in his sister's eyes and the sparkling humor in Tyrone's. “Wildcat. I don't believe I've ever known Tarry to act like a wildcat.” He was studying her with genuine interest. “I believe you've gotten under her skin, Tyrone. Wait till the gang hears this. We spent our entire youth trying to ruffle Tarry's calm, and you managed it in less than an hour."
He reached and tweaked her nose.
David looks at Tyrone as if he were an idol, Tarry thought. Realizing that they were making fun of her, she turned and walked into the attached bathroom, slamming the door.
Damn the man! She looked at her narrow face in the mirror, seeing two bright spots of color in her cheeks. It wasn't fair. How had he managed it? She was so on edge she dropped the soap twice as she rubbed it against the white cloth. With a vicious movement she scrubbed her cheeks till they hurt. As she rinsed, she realized her efforts were stupid. Her face was now raw. She sighed, knowing she couldn't remain forever in the bathroom. Taking a deep breath, she stepped back into the room.
David sat placidly in a chair, his feet propped up on her bed in a careless gesture that was part of his character. His hands were locked behind his head. He was alone.
“Hi, coward.” He stretched, smiling at her.
“You're becoming as bad as he is, David. When are you going to take me home?"
He dropped his feet to the floor, still grinning.
“As soon as you change out of that ridiculous hospital shift and get back into your parka and jeans. Tyrone will fly us to the cabin, and then you're going to pack your bags and come home with me."
Tarry frowned. She didn't like the idea of having Tyrone fly her anywhere, and she wasn't about to go home with David.
“Can't you drive me home, David?” She suggested in a placating tone. “Why drag Tyrone into something that isn't his concern? After all, he isn't responsible for me."
“Maybe it's time someone took an interest and concern in you, Tarry. Living on that mountain in the dead of winter alone is pure foolishness. I talked with the gang, and they agree with Tyrone and me. You need to join the living instead of becoming a winter hermit who lives with bears and wolves"
Tarry saw red. She had always been in control of her life; and no one, not her brothers, Tyrone, or the law, were about to force her to give up what she loved.
“That is the stupidest thing you've ever said, David. You know better than anyone that I can take care of myself. That I—"
“Tell me, Tarry, you aren't lonely. That you never want companionship, friends, family, someone other than ten wolves and a few chickens.” He stood and walked to her, his hands coming down on her shoulders. “Tarry, love, you've got to join the living for a change. Experience some new things. That's all we want for you. We won't take the wolves away from you—far from it—or your independence. Can't you understand? We've been worried about you for some time now, and this incident with the gun—well, it's only the catalyst. A woman alone on the side of a mountain with no neighbors close to help her, no family? It's risky and pure insanity when one calculates the odds."
“And what about how I feel, David? Have you ever thought about that?"
“What is it you want, then?” he asked patiently.
“To make my own decisions, to be treated as an adult instead of some fragile child. After all, I raised you guys without any major problems. I got my badges in the frying pan during the last fifteen years."
His eyes reflected surprise.
“A child. Is that how you see our concern, Tarry? You who have been our mother and father for fifteen years, our friend, champion and advisor? All we wanted—"
“You want me off the mountain, dependent on one of you. No way, David. I'm going back to the cabin and I'm going to train my wolves and make my own decisions."
David chewed his lower lip in uncertainty. He had never stood up to Tarry, not once in the fifteen years since she had taken over the family. He wasn't sure what right he had to insist on it now.
They faced one another, and he could tell by the tilt of her chin that her mind was made up. Slowly, he shrugged.
“Okay, Tarry, I'll explain it to the others.” He let his arms slip around her, giving her a brief br
otherly hug. “I'll get you checked out while you dress."
Chapter Four
At three o'clock that afternoon, Tyrone and David hopped out of the helicopter and lugged the bags of groceries that Tarry had insisted on purchasing before they left town into the cabin. She had spoken less than a dozen words since Tyrone helped her into the helicopter at the airport, and she had no plans to say any more than was necessary until he left.
She did her best to ignore him as he sat in front of her on the way home, but it was impossible. He chatted pleasantly with David and Charley, and the men's good humor irritated her. She listened as it was agreed David would drive Ty's Blazer back to town when it could be dug out. Tyrone would take Charley and the helicopter out in the hour before dark this evening.
Tarry breathed a sigh of relief as she heard this. Once he left, she would be rid of his distracting presence forever. Dwayne greeted her upon their arrival with a brotherly kiss as he lifted her from the doorway of the chopper and strode toward the house accompanied by all ten dogs. Between the confusion of arrival, the dogs and her brothers, twenty minutes flew by in seconds.
The men discussed the helicopter, the weather; and Tarry found their acceptance of Tyrone's departure reassuring, though she couldn't keep her eyes off him as he walked past the dogs, greeting them like old friends, and easily opened the cabin door despite the heavy sack in his arm. She was beginning to feel she had imagined the wound in his shoulder. She never saw him favor it or heard him complain. She shrugged out of her jacket as she went to the wood cooking stove and quickly stirred the ashes into life, restarting the fire.
“I'll have coffee or tea in a few minutes.” She spoke in general to the room, hoping her brothers and Tyrone were too busy to respond.
“How about you sit down and heal your rib cage, sis? I'll have some warmed brandy for everyone in ten minutes,” Dwayne chimed from the back door where he was standing with a load of wood.
Tarry grinned. “Sounds great."