Tallchief: The Homecoming (13 page)

She took a step backward, her expression set and brooding. She tossed J.T.’s toy aside, into a toy box stuffed with trucks. “Your son should have a puppy and a doll—just to keep that Tallchief male arrogance in line, and he shouldn’t be an only child, either. I was and it’s rough…. But remember, Mr. Tallchief, when you start thinking takeovers, that I make my own choices—Or I’m going to,” she said, reminding him of how her parents had cruelly interfered with her life.

“You made a big choice last night. So did I. There won’t be another woman for me. I know that deep down inside. So all we have to do is to settle what runs between and you have to make up your mind what you want. It might take a while for Oswald to find out where you live if he does, and then he’ll be coming for you. If you give a description of him, he’ll be easy to recognize in Amen Flats. We don’t have that many strangers, and he’s certain to come to the station for gas. It’s miles from another station. If he waits for hard winter, he’ll have a worse time because of the snow closing the roads.”

“Well, then. I shouldn’t have anything to worry about, should I?” she said crisply, placing her hand on the door-knob and preparing to leave.

“There is one thing—” Then Liam eased her back against the door and kissed her with the hunger surging through him. “Thank you for finding out that I have a brother.”

He nuzzled the soft hand that came to stroke his cheek. Michelle suddenly reached to wrap her arms around his neck, holding him tight. “His name is Adam,” she repeated. “You’ll find him. I know you will. You can do anything you want.”

There was nothing, he thought later, like a well-kissed, soft woman, a flush on her cheeks and her eyes slightly dazed. Then his grin slid into a frown as he thought about the man stalking Michelle….

The three Tallchief brothers had brought their parents’ murderer back to town, walking behind their horses. Liam wondered if he would have been so cool, if it had been Michelle who—

Pain slammed into his stomach and he recognized that the Tallchief need to keep their families safe boiled deep within him.

Eight

“M
en.” Michelle brooded about Liam as the sheriff’s patrol car slid by Maddy’s Hot Spot. The sheriff’s taped operas were muffled by giggles and women talking. The last week of October, just one week since she’d returned to Amen Flats, was as cold as her parents’ hearts. In that one week, she’d made love with Liam, and her life had flipped over—or rather her father had jerked a major portion away from her.

Her efforts to avoid Liam weren’t working; he wasn’t allowing her to retreat and think or brood. Since that night she’d spent with him, he was locked in her heart and in her body, her senses jumping when he was near. He greeted her with a light kiss, complimented her, no matter how paint stained and mussed she was, and he never failed to kiss her goodbye, giving her just a taste of what she really needed—his urgent hunger and the sensual storm between them. She needed his tenderness,
too. As an independent woman, she wasn’t certain how she felt about sharing her life.

For the first time in her life, she was under guard. Liam regularly checked her house, though he concealed that activity nicely. He brought her food and checked on her telephone service, which was miraculously installed that first morning. Liam stopped by to talk at odd times. He wasn’t a chatty man, setting her suspicion alarms off right away. When her delivery trucks arrived, a Tallchief male just “accidentally” happened to stop, questioning the driver and checking the contents thoroughly.

“Amazing,” she muttered, resting back in Maddy’s well-worn chair. Liam’s pickup was outside, and he was leaning against it. Spotlighted by a streetlight and hunched against the cold wind, he looked as if nothing could tear him away.

He hadn’t run off from her parents’ confrontation as she’d had other men do—especially Oliver. Liam gave no doubt that he was protecting her—and his mind-blowing kisses said he wanted her as no other man had. During those nights apart, his body called to hers—which only had the strength to flop onto her unmade bed and rest. But she still felt him—the hunger and driving heat, the trembling, shocking need that woke her from a dream of him braced over her, his features taut with desire. A woman used to controlling her own life, Michelle wasn’t certain exactly what step to take next. She’d decided to run a steady course until Phase Two leaped upon her—whatever that was. Apparently, with Liam waiting for her outside, Phase One was completed.

Clearly under romantic siege and unused to being the pursued, she sipped her hot tea at Maddy’s Hot Spot, and truly appreciated the sheets concealing the seminude paintings on the wall. She flicked the price tag on the
plastic roses that Maddy had placed on the tables, in honor of Ladies’ Night. “It’s been for over a week now. I have to call Liam to let him know I’m safe, or he calls the sheriff. Can you imagine the sheriff roaring around town, coming to my house, red lights blazing, the Italian tenors singing full blast and making the dogs howl?”

The jukebox was quiet, but over Patty Joe Black’s—a local farm wife—rusty, sensual blues, Talia said, “He’s out there now, standing in the streetlight, waiting for you. He’s worried about you, and he’s getting really good at finding baby-sitters while J.T. sleeps. Liam has that dark look like the Tallchief men get in October, when they want to brawl with someone just to relieve tension. This month I wore Calum down to a nub so that he doesn’t have the energy to do that. It seems like they do settle down a bit after marriage—but just every once in a while they have to beat their chests and punch someone.”

“You’re kidding,” Michelle said, surprised at the out-and-out admission of unruly men letting off steam.

Sybil grinned. “I had to rescue Duncan from a brawl. He was enjoying it.”

“Liam wouldn’t brawl,” Michelle shook her head and glimpsed Maddy, a beefy ex-football player and the owner of the bar. He adjusted his elastic bow tie, worn in honor of Ladies’ Night; it didn’t match his Play Football T-shirt. His small blue eyes widened fearfully as the local librarian began walking toward him. With the grace of a ballerina, Maddy held his tray of drinks high and moved swiftly to put tables between him and the amorous lady.

Talia placed her Hessian boots on a chair and glanced at the sign that said: “Observe the Tuesday Night Ladies’ Night Rules. No Smart-Children or Good-Husband Stories. Five Demerits and You’re Out of Here.” “Period
ically, our men like to cluster in this watering hole and mourn the good old days. It’s just a matter of time before Liam joins them. Are you sure you don’t want to stay with one of us, just until this is over?”

Michelle shook her head. She knew her parents well; they weren’t the kind to accept her decisions lightly. She was certain they were plotting battle plans. In comparison to the Franklins, Theron Oswald’s threat was a tiny scratch on a well-scarred past. “Oswald hasn’t contacted me in over two months. He’s probably forgotten about me. I like what I’m doing, working things out here. It feels right for me. I’ve got a while before I need to look for a job, and I haven’t had a real vacation in years.”

Amazing,
she thought, how vacancies and jobs had just seemed to pop up for her as she worked her way up the corporate ladder. And now she knew why, she thought bitterly—her father was an expert at getting what he wanted.

What else did she have to do but to think and sand furniture? Her father had stripped away everything she thought
she’d
built. She’d have to pick up the pieces and see what held true. One step at a time, while she was sanding and gluing and seeking out treasures, she’d find out who she was. Along the way she would find out why she wanted to leap upon Liam every time she looked at him. He’d awakened her body, and one look at him and she felt like a tigress on the prowl. The elemental emotion was unsettling. After all, she was intelligent and well trained in social graces. After all, she’d managed employees’ positions and retirements, and now she couldn’t manage her life?

She surveyed the women in the room. No wonder they needed get-togethers, if managing men was this upsetting and difficult and amazing. She’d move on, fix her life,
but right now the one-two punch of making love with Liam and coping with her father’s shattering truth needed dissection.

Lacey snickered at the mention of brawls. “Show me a Tallchief man who doesn’t push when he’s on the hunt. Birk says it won’t be long until Liam corners you. He rigged quite the elaborate alarm system from his station to our houses, just in case you were threatened and our phone lines were busy.”

“Him corner me? Hah. I don’t think so,” Michelle muttered. She had to deal with her wounded pride, and Liam needed time to think. It wasn’t a good combination, even with Oswald hunting her. While she tried to portray a different picture to her friends, her sources told her that someone was tracking her and asking questions. She had no doubt that Oswald would eventually find her. But she’d always met her troubles, and she wasn’t running from what she’d discovered—that she had womanly instincts and that she wasn’t a robot fit only for business needs. She wasn’t going back to ulcer-and-stress city and being manipulated by her parents. She would keep her relationship with Liam very polite and cool, despite her hunger and need to nab him. When he looked at her in that deep, searing way, burning through her clothes to skin he’d caressed, her heart fluttered like a trapped bird.

 

Outside, Liam hunched against the wind and leaned back against his pickup. Michelle’s blazing-red pickup was easy to spot, and she wouldn’t take orders, despite the threat to her safety. She would have to ride home with him tonight, because that fancy pickup had a bit of a motor problem—just a tug of one wire ensured he had time to talk with her.

Remembering how nervous she was with him—those
pale hands fluttering to her hair or smoothing her clothes, those sultry green eyes avoiding his—was a good sign, he thought. She was still reeling from her parents’ disclosure, and not certain of Liam. He had to make her certain—to hold her tight against him and feel the pulse of her body heat against his.

His smile grew as he remembered their flash-fire clash and the heat that followed. Whatever his lady felt, it wasn’t the cool emotion she tried to hold when he was near. For his part he was primed and well tuned—and he had a brother he didn’t know, Adam.

Where was Adam now?
Years might have gone by, perhaps forever, and neither Adam or Liam would have known of each other. But Michelle had opened up the past and encouraged Liam’s ease with the Tallchiefs. She was an interfering woman, a strong woman, fighting for her own life against tremendous power and influence.

Liam lifted his head, and the wind caught his hair, churning the thoughts within him. Michelle’s briefcase was filled with clippings from the local paper, the wedding announcement of his parents, Tina Olson and Jamie Tallchief, followed by the births of Adam and Liam. The search for Adam had led to and ended in Australia’s out-back.

Ready to know everything about his heritage, Liam had taken Michelle’s file on Adam to Elspeth. In the shadows of her weaving room, he followed the genealogy chart that Sybil had prepared, tracing him as a direct descendant of Liam Tallchief, son of Una and Tallchief. Liam and Elizabeth’s son, Ewan had gone off to Alaska and married a Frenchwoman, Josette Benoit. Their three children had returned to the West, and Liam’s father, Jamie, had married Tina.

Elspeth’s mother had kept Tina’s letters, and the cor
respondence between the two women was revealing. According to Tina’s letters, the ill-fated trip thirty-five years ago was to be only a weekend, time slotted on Jamie’s time off. Tina had waited until she felt strong enough to travel after Liam’s birth. His parents had just discovered Una and Tallchief’s story, and they’d wanted more planning the brief trip before winter. “Just a two-day hop,” Tina had written. “We’re leaving Adam with my mother. He’s got a bit of a cold and he’s cranky. He’ll be fine, but this is the only time that Jamie and I can come until his vacation next year. I would so love to see Tallchief Mountain, where Una and Tallchief loved—”

Liam studied Maddy’s Hot Spot and Patty Joe Black’s husky rhythm-and-blues voice curled out to him. With J.T. snug in his bed, and teenage Warren Morales catching up on his homework in the next room, Liam had time to think about the woman he loved. It was strange to know that he wasn’t alone, and that J.T. would be loved and cherished just as one of the Tallchief’s own children. His greatest fear aside, Liam smiled. He remembered the powwow the Tallchief males had suddenly called at his station. They’d tossed him brotherly advice about handling women’s prickly little edges. There was no doubt that Duncan wanted Michelle to have her due, a woman romanced properly. In an aside Duncan had asked Liam to be quiet about his concerns for Michelle. Duncan had been served orders not to interfere.

It seemed that Liam had a family, with Sybil and Elspeth and the rest cherishing his son, and the Tallchief males accepted him easily enough. “Aye,” Liam said to the cold October wind, letting the warm family feeling curl around him. It was time for him to claim his love, to watch her ignite and to love her. “Aye,” he murmured again, tasting the word upon his lips, and looked down
at the small cut on his thumb—The five Tallchief children, filled with lore of their Native American ancestor, had originated the blood-brother custom, much to the distaste of their mother. Liam’s scar was a link to their family, an acceptance; he treasured the brothers giving it to him. He narrowed his eyes, checking the cut and wondered how much sympathy it was worth. “Hmm. It might be worth a date at least.”

Then he looked to the Hot Spot’s front door, just slammed behind Michelle as she came out into the October wind. He knew from the toss of her head and from the way she marched straight to him, that silky mass of hair whirling around her head, that they’d clash and she’d ignite—and he couldn’t wait.

Strange, he thought just before she opened her lips to scald him, and he closed it with a kiss, quickly taking the sweet hunger of her mouth into his own. Strange how she could make his heart leap, tear away his shadowy past and make him eager for the future.

 

They stood in her open doorway, J.T. straddling his father’s lean hip. To Michelle they looked like orphans who needed claiming. Liam didn’t look at all like the man who had nabbed her in front of Maddy’s two days ago. He had closed her “You can’t’s” with a searing kiss until she’d dived in to equal his hunger. Once he’d tasted that—her need for him—Liam had simply placed her in his truck and took her to a dark lane near Tallchief Lake. They hadn’t needed the pickup’s heater as she’d discovered just how exciting steaming windows could be.

Now Liam stood, looking as if he hadn’t touched her, ignited her, until she was nothing but a warm, drowsy smile. It was hard to refuse a man who brought his son with him, the two looking as if they needed care, with
hair too long and clothes that needed tossing away. She knew that J.T. had better clothing, because Liam took good care of his son.

He gave her a grin and his son to tend, kissed her and closed the door behind him. What chance did she have, Michelle wondered, as she helped J.T. take off his coat. The little boy’s eyes widened as he looked around to her paint cans and the old table she’d been sanding. Michelle’s heart tilted precariously. She wanted to gather him against her. She wanted children, as simple as that, and she knew how Liam’s wife had felt—the need to give him a family, a child, a part of herself.

Liam entered her house, stirring the sawdust in the room as he carried in long poles. He glimpsed her rumpled bed in the other room, and his gaze seared hers. The image of his long hard body intertwined with hers leaped into her mind. “Daddy, can I tell her?” J.T. asked excitedly. When Liam nodded, J.T. rushed to explain. “My daddy made you something. It’s to make quilts to keep you warm. It was my idea. Elspeth’s mommy had one, and she sewed in the winter when she couldn’t play outside. I want to hide under the blanket you make like Elspeth and Fiona did under their mommy’s.”

J.T.’s growing need to have a mother like the other children became stronger every day. “You can be my mommy, if you’d like. We’ll adopt you, just like the puppy I’m getting from Mrs. Rainey. She says that Calum’s Olaf is the daddy. He’s big and shaggy and my daddy says he’ll eat more than he weighs. I get to feed him. If you came and lived at our house, I’d let you feed him, too.”

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