Tallchief for Keeps (22 page)

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Authors: Cait London

BOOK: Tallchief for Keeps
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She eased up and out of Jeremy’s tiny sports car, her horse-riding muscles protesting every move. “Good night, Jeremy. It’s been an experience.”

“But honey—” Jeremy glanced at Alek’s porch light, which had just flicked on. Alek came onto the porch and stretched, then folded his arms across his chest. “Uh…I’ll call,” Jeremy muttered, and sped away.

Alek stared at Elspeth through the night and a bird swooped between them. She stared back, and a ripple of excitement shot through her. She decided against talking to him, rehashing her miserable first date with Jeremy, and walked slowly to her door, aware that Alek’s gaze followed her, daring her to start something with him.

“Have fun?” he drawled in a Texas tone that sparked her temper.

“Of course.”
She wouldn’t let him know that the evening rated a total zilch.

“Lady, you’ve
got an attitude. Next time, let me know when you want to go out.”

“What makes you think you’d get top billing?”

This time, Alek’s voice was menacing like an approaching thunderstorm, with all the lightning bolts ready to zap. “Like I said. You’ve got a real attitude.”

“Suits me,” she returned airily when every muscle in her body reminded her that Alek had made thorough love to her the previous night. Elspeth decided she would pick when and where, and Alek could look all he wanted. There was just something about Alek that created in her the need to walk in a leisurely manner, letting her short skirt work slowly up her thighs. Mail-order catalogs definitely had advantages in tiny Amen Flats; once she’d started ordering an updated wardrobe, Elspeth had had to force herself to stop. She really enjoyed short skirts against her thighs.

She shot Alek a look over her shoulder and watched him sizzle, his brows jamming together fiercely, his body taut. Elspeth stopped outside her door and blew him a kiss, just as he had done to her.

If he would have just come to her, she could have—But he didn’t, and that nettled Elspeth.

Whatever Alek Petrovna was, he wasn’t flabby or unexciting. Just looking at him gave Elspeth pleasure. Pleasure was one thing, excitement another, and desperation to have Alek kiss her yet another.

Once inside her house, Elspeth passed by her loom and realized suddenly that today was the first time she had not spent hours weaving or spinning or carding.

She groaned, her muscles aching as she
made her way up the darkened stairway. Once in her chamomile-scented bath, scrubbed free of Jeremy’s busy hands, Elspeth leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

At nine o’clock in the evening—after one hard, long day and the night preceding it—she should have been exhausted. She wasn’t. Usually in this mood, she would be at her loom…but it didn’t soothe her tonight.

Alek had stood in the midst of the boys with Megan strapped on his back as if he’d last forever. As if he’d come to her to stay. As if nothing could keep him from her. His wide grin had caused her heart to flip-flop, and the answering twinges in her thighs as she rode told Elspeth that she wasn’t finished with Alek, not just yet.

He’d bought the Kostya
place, a beautiful homestead with natural meadows and fields plowed by mules. It bordered the Tallchief land, and Duncan had been trying to buy it for years. The Kostyas were a beautiful elderly couple, steeped in their Russian background and mourning their son, killed in a minor revolution. Alek would appeal to them, a man needing a home, scarred by life and pain, ready to laugh, ready to love—

Elspeth groaned and shook her head. She was high on fresh air, playing with her lambs and freedom. She’d needed the day on the mountain, the visit to her parents’ graves and the reminder that their love had touched her life. She soaped her leg, lifting it to survey the strong yet slender line. Alek had possibilities, if properly trained.

Distance, she decided. She needed proper distance from Alek to balance what she needed. A friendly relationship wasn’t possible, not now. He was pushing her too much, offering to sacrifice himself to a shotgun wedding, a willing victim of the Tallchiefs.

Alek Petrovna would have to learn how to behave.

She ached in every muscle possible, and yet she wanted—

Elspeth rose, dried slowly and lay upon her bed. Alek’s scent caressed her, and she pressed her face to the pillow they’d shared. Elspeth flopped to her back and watched the moonlit ceiling of her room and groaned. However she’d strained her body today and made a fool out of herself by showing off in front of Alek, she had to face him again. Today she’d reclaimed a part of her life and she wanted to tie up one last loose end. Alek had no right to give her Una’s shawl, to make it so easy for her. She had left the shawl because the
giving
bothered her.
What was hers, she would take.

Tonight, Elspeth was up to reclaiming the shawl and whatever else was hers. If Alek interfered…she smiled into the night and hoped he wouldn’t make it easy. She wasn’t an easy woman and she did so enjoy challenges, the hunter in her lifting to the scent even now…

Alek could be ruthless, withholding what
she needed; another man would have come to her tonight and tried an apology. But not Alek—he only offered to be her victim in a shotgun wedding.

She could have strangled him for that.

Elspeth dressed slowly in black shorts and a black T-shirt. At eleven o’clock in the evening, Alek’s lights were off. Elspeth watched as a sleek black convertible pulled up in front of his house and Alaina Michaels, complete with bottle in hand, waltzed up to Alek’s porch.

He rose out of the shadows on the porch; Alaina’s hips swayed beneath her short dress as she moved toward him.

Elspeth suddenly decided she needed to top off her day with a glass of wine.

She went outside, lit her candles, sat on her front porch and plopped her moccasin-covered feet up on the railing. She rocked back in the chair, tilting it against the wall and decided Alek could be replaced anytime, anywhere.

She sipped her wine, trying
to ignore the tussle on her neighbor’s porch. She tried to convince herself she’d find another Alek Petrovna tomorrow; she’d just go out and pluck one just as sizable, just as exciting, off the shelf. He was a common-variety stud, confident of himself—damn, she hated his confidence. No, she hated his teasing more.

All in all, little kept her from bounding
those few feet to Alek’s porch and ripping Alaina’s willing body from his.

Elspeth inhaled. Alek’s body was hers. She’d claimed him five years ago. “Dibs,” Elspeth muttered, and poured her fourth glass of wine. She kept trying to ignore Alaina’s whimpering sounds and Alek’s sexy rumbling.

She closed her eyes and melted at the image of Alek, naked and aroused.

Alaina’s convertible squealed off into the night, and the sheriff’s car cruised by, sopranos nicely muffled. He trained his spotlight at Elspeth. “Everything okay, Elspeth?”

She lifted her glass to him. “Just peachy.”

“You okay?” he persisted, clearly worried that Elspeth Tallchief was having a glass of wine.

“My neighborhood livens up this time of night. Sometimes the cats squall and it’s hard to sleep,” she returned as the sheriff’s spotlight hit Alek, also sitting on his front porch.

“Petrovna, how’s my feature article coming—you know, the one about me?”

“It’s done. Who won the
game?”

There was only going to be one winner in the Alek-Elspeth match and that was her.

“Had to leave it early,” the sheriff called. “Some teenage boys with too much beer in them decided to face down Apache, that old buffalo. They made it up a tree, where he’s got them pinned. I’m going back there to check that no one gets hurt. If I have my way, they’re staying in that tree until their parents collect them in the morning. I’ll have someone call you on Monday. My boy is a top player in the town league, you know. We won big time. They need a shortstop. Maybe you could try out.”

“Maybe I
could. I’ll be waiting for a report on the game.”

“Maybe you could help me out next time I need a deputy quick. The Tallchiefs usually help out. Duncan’s got a real name for it. I hear your dad is a sheriff.”

“He’s retired and growing
orchids. I’ll be there if you need me.”

The spotlight swung back to Elspeth. “Caught Calum naked out on his porch again. He was picking a bouquet. Looked guilty as hell when I spotlighted him. Had to pull Lacey off Birk. Seems he didn’t like what she said to Chelsey Lang, and now the almost-engagement looks shaky. Guess I’ll be going then. Uh…Elspeth, it’s a couples team. What do you say about trying out, too? You’re in shape…1 saw that today. Nobody could ever ride like you, except your mother. Something to see, all right.”

“I’ll think about it,” Elspeth lied, then she took her glass into the house to answer the telephone.

Fiona went right to the reason for her call. “What happened today? I called Calum. Uh…I’m in a bit of trouble here in Wisconsin and needed some…uh…advice. He’s helping me.”

“What kind of trouble?” Elspeth smiled; Calum had left a message on her machine. Fiona had pushed an attorney’s nerd-boy son into newly poured concrete and sat on him—with only his head above the surface—until it hardened. Nerd-boy didn’t like the handcuffs he’d been tricked into wearing, or the concrete overcoat. At twenty-nine, Fiona was moving more quickly now, and Elspeth sensed that her sister had almost finished her wandering.

Fiona explained curtly, then
switched to Elspeth’s life. “This guy Petrovna, Talia’s brother. He’s tough, Elspeth. I met a journalist friend of his, who told me a lot about him. He’s been there, done that. I really wouldn’t…mess with him if I were you, Elspeth. He’s not your type. I hear he has Una’s shawl. If I were there, I’d get it back for you. Calum thinks that earring Alek is sporting is Mom’s from LaBelle. I don’t care what Duncan says, I think I should come home and rescue you. You’re too sweet, Elspeth. Too elegant to deal with a guy like that. He’s nothing like Talia at all. There’s absolutely no reason for him to be in Amen Flats, and I don’t believe that newspaper malarkey for a minute. There’s our family honor at stake, you know.”

Because Elspeth had had enough of other people in her life for one day, she cut Fiona’s advice short. “Yes, why don’t you come home? Joel Johnson asked about you the other day. He misses you. Says Amen Flats is dull without you. Micah, Steele and Taggart said they hoped you’d never come home—but they were very nice about it.”

“Those nerds. You know how I—”

Elspeth smiled and lifted her glass in a toast to herself. “Don’t worry about me, Fiona. Or Una’s shawl and Mom’s earring. Just come home when you can. Megan is growing fast, and Birk is teaching her to say he’s her favorite uncle. Duncan is happy. Talia is blooming and driving Calum nuts.”

“I like that. Calum never lets anything get to him. It’s fun to see Talia broadside him. They were so beautiful when they got married in December.” The silence at the other end of the line said that Fiona did miss Amen Flats despite all her declarations of never coming back to wither away in a boring dirt town.

“I went to see the folks today.” Elspeth ignored the stab of pain.

“I hope you took a
bouquet of bluebells. They were Mom’s favorite.”

“I did. I love you, Fiona.”

“I love you, Elspeth.”

“Aye,” they said together, and hung up slowly, without saying goodbye.

Birk’s pickup skidded to a stop outside, and she watched him stalk up the walkway. She met him on the porch. He wasn’t mulling over Chelsey in Elspeth’s house or spending the night on her couch. She wasn’t baking his favorite bread in the morning to soothe him. Tonight she had another agenda and a date she was determined to keep.

Birk nodded to Alek, who nodded back and said, “Nice night.”

“Depends.” Birk plopped down on Elspeth’s front steps and slammed his Stetson against his hand. “Man. For two cents, I’d take Lacey over my knee and paddle her.”

“The last time
you tried that, you lost. You’re a lot slower than she is. She went right over the top of you.”

Birk glared at her. “She knew
that branch wouldn’t hold me. You know what she told Chel? Never mind. You’d just laugh. I’m not in the mood for advice tonight.” He frowned at her. “Hey. Do I smell Chablis or a wine cooler? You?” he asked, frowning at her.

“Me. I’m not giving away advice tonight or making you a snack after my kitchen is all clean, and I’m not cutting your hair. I think Chelsey has good sense. I like Lacey. Go away.”

“Uh-huh.” His response said he knew more than she did. “I’m headed home for a brew and a bath. Take it easy, Elspeth the elegant.”

She loved her family, but tonight she wanted them off her front porch and off her telephone. Birk’s pickup sailed out into the night, and Elspeth glanced at Alek. He hadn’t moved, his bare feet still braced up on his porch.

“Nice night,” he said
again, and stood.

His stretch caused Elspeth’s mouth to dry. The porch light caught the powerful sweep of his shoulders, glanced off the ridges of his stomach and highlighted his thighs. She realized she was straightening to see more of him and closed her mouth abruptly. After Alek entered his house, the porch light clicked off, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Elspeth watched moths circle the streetlight. First of all, Alek had a shawl she wanted and an earring that was also her inheritance. She shook her head because it was getting a bit light and concentrated on Una’s legend.

When the Marrying Moon is high, a scarred warrior will rise from the mists to claim his lady huntress. He will wrap her in the shawl and carry her to the Bridal Tepee and his heart. Their song will last longer than the stars….

Alek glanced at the clock
in his living room. At two o’clock in the morning, he sat in Mrs. Mulveney’s old rocking chair, his jeans unsnapped at the waistband, and waited. From the look in Elspeth Tallchief’s steely eyes as she’d ridden into town, she’d decided to reclaim what was hers.

He tried to give her the shawl, and now she’d have to take it…and him, if his luck held.

Jeremy was lucky Elspeth had left his sports car when she did. Jeremy wasn’t the real problem, and Alek curled that comfort around him. Jeremy had simply intruded on a very private battle, one that Alek intended to win.

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