(Calahan Cowboys 08) The Cowboy Soldier's Sons by Tina Leonard Page A

drily, “that Fitzgerald is not suffering from a lack of attention. I’d wheel my chair over there to help him out, but I have two sons at this table who can do the honors for their mother. But I can do it myself if I must.”
    “Oh,” Shaman said, finally getting it. “Excuse me, ladies.”
    He did his duty, noting that Fitzgerald seemed pleased with the intervention. Shaman tried diligently to process the fact that his mother was involved with her chauffeur, then decided it wasn’t any of his business. “All right,” he said, returning to the table. “The coast is clear. Fitzgerald is out of commission, and the lady will have to go find another gentleman to play with.”
    Cat looked at him with big, round eyes. “Wow, Uncle Shaman. Don’t you know I’m not supposed to hear things like that? I’m even supposed to believe that babies are brought in by magic storks in the night.”
    Shaman grinned at her. “That’s right, sweetie. You just keep on believing it, too.”
    “Because if any boy ever tries to convince you that you should kiss him—” Gage began, but his daughter raised a hand to silence him.
    “Dad, it’s uncool to bring it up all the time. I get it. Boys are icky.”
    “That’s right,” Gage agreed.
    “That’s right,” Chelsea said, “for now.”
    “Boys are icky,” Tempest said, “until you find the right one.”
    Everyone looked at her. Millicent stared, Chelsea stared, Gage stared, and Shaman smirked at his family, whose gazes then locked on him. “Well, of course I’m Mr. Right. What did you think? That Tempest is the kind of woman who has to settle for subpar?”
    “Oh, brother,” Gage said.
    Cat smiled at her uncle. “You are awesome, Uncle Shaman. That’s exactly what I told Tempest when I said she needed to come meet you. That’s when you were living in Italy, Tempest, remember?”
    Shaman looked at his wife. “You came all the way back here for a blind date my niece arranged?”
    He thought it was darling that Tempest blushed. “Are you going to order dinner or not?” she demanded.
    He laughed. “I had no idea how much fun family could be.” Then he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, deciding to quit worrying about their marriage for the moment.
    He wanted her so much. It was an ache that never seemed to subside. Shaman ruminated on this, in a hazy glow of falling-in-love, until he realized that Bobby Taylor sat in a corner of the bar, watching them. The man was sizing them up, letting Shaman know he was aware of every move he made.
    Shaman’s not-completely-healed wound started to itch and burn at the back of his head, and he instinctively reached out for Tempest’s hand. She was starting to mean the world to him—she was becoming his world—and the surge of undeniable killing rage he remembered from war flowed into him, burning with intensity. He recoiled from the memory, surprised—but only for a moment.
    He’d protect her and his family at all costs.
    He walked over to the man at the bar.
    “Evening,” Taylor said, nodding to Shaman. “How’s the head?”
    Shaman felt his blood boil. He had family here tonight, and wasn’t in the mood to have the discussion with Taylor he really wanted to have. “I’m assuming you decided your little job on my skull was necessary because of your sister.”
    Taylor shrugged. “Didn’t say I did it, Phillips. Heard about it in town. I don’t know who clocked you.”
    “Sure you don’t.” Shaman wondered if Taylor was certifiable or just working things through in his own vengeful way. “Saying it was you, why would you think busting open my grapefruit would get you even with Tempest?”
    “Again, not saying I did anything to you. Why would I? But I could see getting her attention through the man she’s having a baby with.” Bobby glanced across the room at Tempest, who was watching them, her face frozen with an emotion that looked a lot like fear. “You know, Tempest never had anyone in her life who