Nothing But Trouble. BEVERLY BARTON

looked at her skeptically, Tallie shook her head. “I can’t want him. He’s all wrong for me, and I’m all wrong for him. You know as well as I do that if he runs for governor, he’ll need a wife like Donna Fields. Someone sophisticated and educated. Someone with the right background.”

      “Don’t sell yourself short,” Sheila said.

      “I’m not,” Tallie said. “I know that I’m smart and hardworking and have more friends than a person has a right to, but I know my shortcomings just as well. Peyton and I just aren’t right for each other.”

      Mike, who’d been waiting at the fence for Danny, walked the boy over to where Sheila and Tallie were talking. “Ready to go, ladies?”

      “Tallie’s staying to see the rest of the varsity game.” Accepting the baseball glove her son handed her, Sheila put her arm around him. “I need to get Danny home for a bath and then bed so we won’t be late for Sunday school tomorrow.”

      “Are you sure you want to stay?” Mike asked Tallie.

      “I’m sure,” Tallie said. “I’ve heard so much about Donna Fields that I think it’s high time I met her.”

      Mike shrugged, then turned and walked away with Sheila and Danny, who both gave Tallie farewell waves.

      Taking time to shore up her courage, Tallie waited a few minutes before strolling over to the field where the varsity game was being played. She spotted Peyton sitting next to an attractive redhead, who sported a rust leather coat almost the same color as her dark auburn hair.

      Standing at a distance, Tallie glanced back and forth from the action on the field to Peyton. Peyton wasn’t exactly sitting in the stadium seat; he lounged in a relaxed position, sort of sprawled out, half sitting, half lying. Feeling her heartbeat quicken, Tallie cursed her stupid weakness. The very sight of Peyton Rand excited her. Of all the men she knew, why did the most unsuitable one have to be the one who gave her butterflies in her stomach?

      She and Peyton came from such diverse backgrounds. He from a wealthy, political aristocracy. She from a family of poor blue-collar rednecks. He was a brilliant, sophisticated lawyer; she was a country girl who drove a tow truck. He was a man who played by society’s rules, and she had spent her entire life breaking all those rules, living by her own set of ethics.

      So what if she and Peyton Rand were doomed as a couple? That didn’t mean that Donna Fields was the right woman for him. It wouldn’t hurt if she just went over and checked Donna out. After all, she couldn’t call herself a true friend if she let just any woman come along and snag the man she’d always dreamed would someday be hers.

      Readjusting the collar on her jacket, Tallie took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling very slowly. Solomon crawled under the bleachers and lay down in the dirt when Tallie made her way upward, finding an empty spot directly below Peyton and Donna. She spoke to Spence and Pattie, exchanging pleasantries while she settled into place.

      Tilting her head slightly, she leaned back toward Peyton. When he didn’t respond, she sat up straight, glancing out across the field to the scoreboard. “I see Marshallton is behind by two points. What we need is for J.J. to hit another home run the way he did at last Saturday’s game.”

      “I don’t know if we could put up with him if he hits another homer,” Pattie said. “For days, he had such a big head, we threatened to disown him.”

      “The boy has a right to be proud. He’s a good player. One of Marshallton’s best,” Spence said.

      “Spoken like a proud stepfather.” Peyton wondered what it would feel like to have children, even stepchildren with whom you shared a close relationship. In the last few years, he’d given marriage and parenthood more than one passing thought. After all, he wasn’t getting any younger, and it never hurt a politician to have a family.

      Turning around in her seat, Tallie stared at Donna Fields. “Hi, I’m Tallie Bishop, an old friend of Spence’s and Peyt’s.”

      Donna’s big brown eyes widened. “Ah, so you’re Peyt’s little Tallie.”

      Tallie wasn’t certain what the other woman meant by her comment. Obviously, Ms. Fields knew more about Tallie than Tallie knew about her. “I’m not sure that I’m—”

      “I’ve had to cancel more than one engagement with Donna because of you.” Peyton slipped his arm around Donna’s shoulders. “She’s been an absolute sweetheart by being so understanding.”

      “How absolutely...sweet of her.” Tallie glared at the auburn-haired beauty, who flashed her a brilliant smile, not a trace of animosity in her expression.

      “You’re somewhat like Peyton described you,” Donna said. “But he forgot to tell me how pretty you were.”

      Now why had that woman gone and said something nice to her? Tallie wondered. She’d been bound and determined not to like Donna Fields, and here she was all friendly and nice and... Tallie wanted to hate her, but she knew right off that that was going to be impossible.

      “Thanks for the compliment,” Tallie said. “I’m afraid Peyt hasn’t told me anything about you, but I’ve drawn my own conclusions. You’re not quite what I was expecting.”

      “What exactly were you expecting?” Donna asked.

      “Tallie...” Peyton narrowed his eyes, glowering at her, his expression filled with warning.

      “Oh, calm yourself, Peyt. I’m not going to say anything to embarrass you. I like her.” Tallie held out her hand to Donna. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Fields.”

      Donna accepted the friendly greeting, shaking hands with Tallie. “It’s very nice to meet you, too, Tallie. And please call me Donna. I have a feeling you and I are going to be friends.”

      “Yeah, something tells me that we are.” In that one moment, in a flash of brilliant female intuition, Tallie knew that Donna Fields wasn’t in love with Peyton. Love wasn’t there in her eyes when she looked at him, or her voice when she spoke to him, or in her touch when she placed her hand on his arm.

      Peyton didn’t like this new turn of events. His gut instincts had told him that, once they became acquainted, Tallie and Donna would like each other, but he hadn’t counted on it happening so fast. Both women shared qualities that drew others to them, and he had to admit that Donna’s friendliness, her concern for others and her warm, caring nature had reminded him of Tallie. But that was where the similarities ended. Donna would be an asset to any man; Tallie would drive a sober man to drink.

      While the game continued, Tallie and Donna talked, discussing various subjects, but somehow their conversation kept reverting to Peyton Rand. The man himself appeared oblivious to everything the two women said about him. Pattie joined their conversation from time to time, but most of her concentration centered on her son, the team’s pitcher.

      In the bottom of the sixth inning, the score tied five to five, Tony Miller came to bat. When the umpire called his third strike on the boy, Eric Miller marched over to the fence and yelled out a condemning obscenity.

      “Oh, good Lord, I wish that man would stay home,” Pattie said.

      Peyton took a good look at this Miller fellow. He was about the same height as Peyton, but outweighed him by at least thirty pounds, most of which were contained in his enormous beer belly. The very thought that this middle-aged, foulmouthed drunk had made sexual advances to Tallie made Peyton furious. If the man ever touched her...

      Tallie stood, stretching her arms out on each side, allowing the feeling to return to her numb backside. “I’ve got to make a pit stop. Do either of you need to go?” She glanced at Donna and then at Pattie.

      “Yes.” Grinning at Tallie, Pattie stood. Donna shook her head no. Tallie and Pattie made their way down the bleachers to the ground. When Solomon saw Tallie, he crawled out from his resting place and followed the two women toward the recreation center.

      “Wonder why she called