Nothing But Trouble. BEVERLY BARTON

face and figure. And even if you and Peyton Rand are totally different, that doesn’t mean you weren’t meant for each other. Opposites attract, you know?”

      “Wanda, a man on the verge of running for governor isn’t about to get himself romantically involved with a woman who owns a tow-trucking company, has only a junior college education and is always getting into trouble because she can’t keep her nose out of everybody else’s business.”

      “Well, if you don’t make a move soon, you’re liable to lose him for good,” Wanda said. “He’s been dating that Donna Fields for three months now. You know her granddaddy was governor and her uncle’s a federal judge.”

      “Peyton and I are all wrong for each other, but he and Donna Fields are a different matter. She’d probably make him the perfect wife.” Tallie hated admitting that another woman was far more suitable for Peyt than she was, but the truth was the truth. Donna Fields was the best possible choice for a politician’s wife. Tallie Bishop would be a politician’s nightmare.

      * * *

      Peyton sat in the luxury of his dark blue Jaguar, his shoulders resting comfortably against the leather seat as he spoke on his cellular phone. With casual grace, he flicked the ashes off the end of his cigar into the tray.

      “She’s never gotten herself into this much trouble before, Clayburn, but she honestly thought she was doing the right thing.”

      “I know,” Clayburn Proctor said. “Tallie’s got a good heart, it’s just that she acts without thinking. I don’t have a problem with setting her bail now. No sense in that girl staying overnight in jail. But there’s no way we can get out of a trial. Of course, since Lowell’s only charging her with assault and battery, I can just put the case on my docket if she pleads guilty. No need to take this before a jury.” Clayburn laughed. “But my bet is if it did go to a jury, they’d acquit her. I know she broke the law, but by God, somebody’s needed to do something about Cliff Nolan for a long time. If only his wife would press charges against him.”

      “Thanks, Clayburn. I appreciate this.” Peyton hadn’t had a doubt that the judge would bend over backward to help Tallie; as a matter of fact, there was hardly a soul in the whole county, especially around Crooked Oak, who wouldn’t go out of their way for Tallie Bishop. Just about everybody liked her. Despite her penchant for getting into trouble, Tallie’s main fault was that she was always trying to help others. He’d never known anyone so concerned about every living creature on earth. He supposed that was the main reason he’d never been able to sever the ties that bound him to Tallie, despite the many times he’d wished she’d get the hell out of his life.

      “Well, who’s going to post bond for Tallie?” Clayburn asked.

      “I am.” Peyton laughed. “She’s promised me that she won’t leave the country.”

      “Well, since you’re the one posting bail, I’d say that a fair amount would be 1,678. Wouldn’t you say that would be fair?”

      Hearing the slight chuckle in Clayburn Proctor’s voice, Peyton took a draw on his cigar, then blew out a ring of smoke. Damn the man! The judge had a warped sense of humor. Whoever heard of such an odd amount for bail?

      “That’s a rather unusual sum, don’t you think?” Peyton asked.

      “You know, for some reason that amount sticks in my mind. I seem to connect 1,678 with you, Peyton.”

      “It couldn’t possibly be the exact amount you’ve lost to me in our friendly little poker games over the last few months, could it?

      “Well, well, that must be the reason.”

      “Clayburn, you’re not going to get that money out of me. Tallie won’t jump bail.”

      “Not intentionally,” the judge said, chuckling loudly. “But knowing Tallie, she just might take that tow truck of hers into Mississippi without even thinking, and if she does, and if I have a mind to, I can rule that she’s jumped bail.”

      Clayburn Proctor was a wily old fox who enjoyed his games. Peyton wouldn’t put anything past him. If anyone else had been posting Tallie’s bail, Clayburn would have named a different amount, but the judge couldn’t resist the chance to needle Peyton. “You wouldn’t do that to Tallie.”

      “Probably not,” Clayburn admitted. “We’re both under that girl’s spell, aren’t we, Peyt? Like everybody else in these parts.”

      “You may be under her spell, but I’m damn well not!” Peyton had never been under any woman’s spell and most definitely not Tallie Bishop’s. She was five-feet-two-inches of pure trouble. She’d been a pest as long as he’d known her, ever since she’d been a kid and traipsed around after him and her brothers when they went hunting and fishing. And, dammit all, when she’d turned sixteen and fancied herself in love with him, she’d nearly driven him crazy until he’d persuaded her that there could never be anything romantic between them.

      “Don’t protest so much,” Clayburn said. “Folks will assume you’ve got something to hide.”

      “Thanks again for setting bail, odd amount or not,” Peyton said, deliberately changing the subject. He was not interested in Tallie Bishop, most definitely not in the way Clayburn Proctor was suggesting. They were barely friends. He tried to look out for her as a favor to her brothers and because somebody had to do it. There was nothing more to their relationship than that—absolutely nothing.

      * * *

      Standing in the doorway, Peyton watched Tallie while she made the rounds up and down the pens in the animal shelter. When she and Susan Williams, the shelter manager, stopped by the pen that housed Solomon, the huge dog reared up against the wire gate, his head towering over the two women.

      The moment Susan opened the gate, Solomon jumped down and loped out toward Tallie. Squatting beside the Great Dane, Tallie gave him a hug, then ran her hand down his back in a loving pet.

      “Did you think you were doomed to life in this prison?” Tallie’s voice held the same soft, even quality a mother uses when reassuring a child. “Well, Peyt and I have come to take you home, but you’ll have to be on your best behavior because you’ll be riding in Peyt’s Jaguar.”

      Good God! He hadn’t thought about that when he’d offered to drive Tallie and Solomon home. That dog was the size of a pony. Peyton felt like kicking himself. Why hadn’t he let her call on someone else for taxi service? Why did he think it was his responsibility to make sure she got home safe and sound?

      “Where’s your truck?” Susan asked as they walked into the outer office area where a volunteer manned the reception desk.

      “Mike picked it up at the Nolans’ and took it back to the garage.” When Tallie stopped, Solomon came to heel without a word from his mistress. “We didn’t know whether or not I’d be spending the night in jail.” Smiling, she cut her eyes in Peyton’s direction. “Lowell let me bring Solomon along in the police car, and I certainly appreciate y’all taking care of him for me.”

      “Good gracious, Tallie, taking care of Solomon is the least we could do for our number-one volunteer,” Susan said. “Mr. Rand, we’re certainly glad you were able to get Tallie out of jail so fast. I just can’t believe she’ll have to stand trial for protecting a child and his dog.”

      “Well, Ms. Williams, Tallie did shoot a man.” Peyton knew it was useless to point out Tallie’s faults to any of her many admirers, and Susan Williams was no exception. “I expect once I present the evidence, Judge Proctor will go easy on her.”

      “As well he should,” Susan said. “I just wish we could get Loretta to take those children and leave Cliff Nolan. If she doesn’t, he’ll wind up killing one of them sooner or later.”

      “Tallie, we really should be going.” Peyton nodded toward the front door. “I’ve taken off all afternoon, but I need to get back to Jackson. I have a dinner engagement in Marshallton this evening.”

      “Sure