Two

      Peyton placed the stadium seats on the metal bleachers and assisted Donna into her place at his right while his brother Spence sat down on his left. Since his brother had married Pattie Cornell and become the instant father of two teenagers, Peyton had taken his role as an uncle quite seriously. J.J., Spence’s stepson, was a varsity player on Marshallton High’s baseball team, and Peyton tried to make as many Saturday-night games as possible, but this was the first time he’d asked Donna to accompany him.

      Over the last ten years since Peyton had devoted himself to building a successful private practice, he’d given up more and more of his leisure time and had forfeited a personal life altogether. He’d dated a lot, but had never become seriously involved. Between work and his duties as Tallie’s guardian angel, he hadn’t found a woman willing to accept the limited time he had to offer a relationship.

      Several months ago, he’d met Donna at a political fund-raiser. They had liked each other immediately, and when he’d asked her out, she’d accepted. She didn’t seem to mind that he was dedicated to his career. She taught history at a local college and was devoted to her students. Although half the state of Tennessee already had them engaged, they considered themselves good friends, neither of them in a hurry to commit to anything more.

      “I hope you aren’t doing this just to be a good sport,” Peyton said to Donna. “I know coming to a high school baseball game is hardly the ideal date.”

      “Don’t be silly.” Donna smiled, her cinnamon-brown eyes sparkling with warmth. “I really like your brother and his family. And this is a real treat. I’ve never been to a baseball game.”

      “Sweetbriar Seminary for Young Ladies didn’t have a baseball team?”

      “We had a volleyball team, but I didn’t play and seldom went to the games. I lived with my nose stuck in a book. And in college, I was too busy keeping up my grades to waste time on anything except the football games Uncle James took me to when he visited his alma mater.”

      Peyton laughed, trying to imagine Donna as a college girl. At thirty, she was such a serious-minded woman that he had a difficult time thinking of her any other way.

      Spence punched Peyton in the ribs. “You two ready to get something from the concession stand? It’s our treat since we invited y’all to the game.”

      Pattie Rand leaned over her husband to touch Peyton’s arm. “Why don’t you and Spence take our orders and go for the food while Donna and I get better acquainted.”

      Although Peyton knew Pattie would give Donna the third degree while he and Spence were at the concession stand, he reluctantly agreed. The lines at the stand were long. Undoubtedly most baseball fans had decided to dine at the field tonight. The aroma of hamburgers and potatoes frying mixed with the milder smell of hot dogs and cotton candy, while the mouth-watering scent of roasted peanuts wafted through the early-evening air.

      Peyton glanced around at the multitude of ball fields that comprised this section of the park, then past the enormous parking area to the lighted tennis courts, the outdoor Olympic-sized pool and the newly constructed recreation center.

      “This is quite some place, isn’t it? There was nothing around here like this when we were kids playing ball.” Spence put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We did good, don’t you think, donating most of the old man’s money to build this place.”

      “Yeah.” Peyton knew how difficult it had been for Spence to agree to christening this modern recreational facility the Marshall Rand Memorial Park. Spence had hated the old man, and hadn’t gotten along with Peyt for years because he’d once thought him a carbon copy of their father.

      “Are you still considering running for governor?” Spence asked.

      “You think it would be a mistake, don’t you?” Peyton stepped forward a couple of inches when the snail-paced line finally moved.

      “I think you’d run the risk of following in the old man’s footsteps.” Spence glanced down at the order list his wife had given him.

      “I wouldn’t be the kind of politician the Senator was.” Peyton glanced around, checking to see if anyone seemed interested in their private conversation. Lowering his voice, he said, “I’d like to make a difference for the people of this state. There are so many things that need to be done, and I truly think I could accomplish a great deal.”

      “You’re a smart man, Peyt, and I think a fairly honest man—” Spence grinned “—for a lawyer.”

      “Hey there, little brother, I resent that slur.”

      “Politics can change a man. He can start worrying more about his image than he does about the people who elected him in the first place. Marshall Rand never did anything that wasn’t for the good of Marshall Rand.” Spence followed Peyton a few steps closer to the concession stand as the line progressed slowly. “You’re a better man than Father was, but you’re a lot like him. You look like him, talk like him...you definitely inherited his way with words. Hell, man, you even picked up his bad habit of smoking cigars.”

      “I’ve cut back. I’m down to a handful a day, usually one after lunch and one after dinner, so don’t start on me about my cigars. Tallie gives me enough grief over my smoking. I don’t need any scolding from you.”

      “Now there’s a woman who could keep a politician in line,” Spence said. “Hey, any word on when she’ll go to trial for shooting Cliff Nolan?”

      “That shooting only occurred three days ago, and it seems to be the talk of the county.” Peyton wasn’t surprised. News always traveled fast in small towns and rural communities where everybody knew everybody and neighbors tended to keep tabs on one another. “Clayburn cleared some time on his docket for next week. He’s bending over backward to be fair to Tallie and still stay within the law.”

      “Tallie told us all about what happened. Pattie and I ran into her here at the ball field the night after she got out of jail.” Spence looked from side to side, taking