Taking Back Tara (Ranch Lovers Romance) (3 page)

“Don’t!” she
said sharply. She inhaled. “Oh boy. I think I’m gonna weep again. Give me a
sec, will ya, Zane? I’m still thinking about this.”

Zane nodded,
the rain flying off his dark hair. “Long as you need, take your time.”

“Well then. I’m
going to take off this scarf and show you my face, Zane and if you still want
me, you help me take off my clothes and get me to the bathroom and in the tub.”

“It’s a deal,
hun.” He smiled. “Wait until you see the tub.”

“Is it the one
we tore out of the fancy plumbing magazine? The bathtub for two, a red, heart
shape?”

“You’ll see.”
And because she knew him, she knew that tub was exactly what she wanted.

“OK, I’m gonna
do it,” she said. “I’m gonna let you see my face.” She chewed her lip for a
moment under the bandana. “One-two-three-go,” she whispered quickly. She
squeezed her eyes shut and her tears fell on his hands, hot and wet, as he
still kneeled in front of her.

“Don’t be
scared. It’s me, old Zane. That harmless fellow from kindergarten who shared
graham crackers with you.”

She nodded and reached
both hands behind her head. She worked the knot loose that held the kerchief.
She let it fall to the floor. He tried not to gasp at the damage and was able
to keep silent but his heart hammered in startled horror. He pressed his lips
together in chagrin.

“I’ve had a
couple of plastic surgeries and a skin graft. This is as good as it’s gonna
get,” Tara said, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry you
have to look at it.”

“Shhhhh,” he
soothed her. His right hand reached up to touch her scarred, rippled face on
the left side. She opened her eyes and flinched when she saw his hand coming.
He pulled his hand back. “Does it hurt to touch it?” he asked softly.

“Not usually,
but I can’t spray hot water on it with pressure, like from the shower, or it
hurts a lot. And it hurts in the hot, summer sun.”

“How about a
warm hand?”

“I wouldn’t
know. No one except me has ever touched it.” She paused. “I haven’t touched my
own face for a long time. I don’t even look at it any more.”

“I saw the
mirror in the Airstream covered up with black electrical tape. It scared the
hell out of me, Tara, that you would do that. That is not normal, babe. Crazy
people do that. Cover up mirrors.”

“I know,” she
said softly, her voice trembling. She looked down at the floor and he reached a
gentle finger under her chin to tilt it up. Their eyes met and hers looked away
first. “Maybe I’m crazy.”

“You ain’t
crazy. You’re just hurtin’,” he said.

“Zane, I wish
you’d just get me naked so we can not think about this part. My face.”

“That’ll come.
First, I want to know what happened that night. The night Hugh died.”

She chewed her
lip thoughtfully.

“I see your
inner editor at work. Don’t sugarcoat it, Tara. Just
tell me how your face got burned like this.”

She nodded.
“You know me too well.” She touched his clean-shaven face. “
Your
skin is still beautiful.”

His mouth
touched her ruined cheek and she shuddered.

“Hurt?” he
murmured against her scarred cheek.

“No. It feels
good to feel a kiss. It’s just that I haven’t been touched in so long. I
thought I might pass out or scream or something.”

“How did all
this happen to you, Tara?”

“Well, I guess
you know from the gossip in town that he had cancer before he bought the ranch
next door.”

Zane nodded. “I
heard tell.”

“Here’s the
short version. After we were married for about a year, he was really having a
hard time breathing and he was secretly smoking, too. I didn’t know it until
that night that he smoked
while
he
used oxygen.”

Zane’s eyebrows
went up. He nodded for her to continue.

“I heard him
coughing in the night. By that time, he was sleeping in a hospital bed in the
guest room by himself. I went into the guest room to amp up the oxygen flow on
the tank just as he was lighting a cigarette, a lighter cupped in his hand.”

Zane’s mouth
dropped open in shock.

Tara
covered her eyes as if she could see it all again in her mind. “There was a
loud explosion that hurt my ears and flames were everywhere, like this big bang
and big whoosh. Hugh was on fire and screaming, something awful, just like
Lucky screamed when he snapped his kneecaps on the rocks. I would swear to you
it was the same scream. The
death
scream. I never want to hear it again. It’s like the devil was there in that
house that night. And his voice was coming out of Hugh.”

“Oh,
Tara
!”

She opened her eyes
and pressed her lips tightly before continuing. “Hugh was on fire and I leaned
over him to try to put it out with my bare hands just as he tried to get up out
of bed. His skin that was on fire touched mine and burned our faces together
like two hamburgers stuck together on a grill. When I felt the skin sizzle and
pop, I pulled away and my flesh came off. It just tore off layers and layers of
my skin. It was the most searing, horrible pain I have ever felt. It bled.”

He pulled her hand
into his and cradled it there loosely. She laced her fingers in his and their
eyes met. “This is hard to tell you.”

“I have to
know. So I can help you. You’re dressing in black, covering up mirrors with
black tape. You’ve gone off the deep end, a woman in black! Talk to me!”

She breathed
hard a couple of times and continued. “Hugh was dead by the time the pillow
caught, and then the bed caught and the floor, and the walls. I couldn’t drag
him far. He was heavy and we got as far as the stairs when the stairs went up
in flames and I got out the window in the hallway and jumped on the porch roof
and then down to safety. By the time the rural fire department came, the house
was burned to the ground. And my face was excruciating. I wanted to die, too,
so I wouldn’t have to bear the pain. So I wouldn’t have to look at it.”

“I left him to
burn. I know he was already dead but..” She put her hand to her face, covering
the scarred tissue of her cheek.

“I never want
to see you do that again.
Ever
.” He pulled
her hand down and held it tightly. “Tara. I am going to
ask you something and I want you to tell me the truth.”

Her eyebrows
knit. “I never lie. You know that.”

Zane said, “Tara,
do you think that God gave you that scar to punish you for hurting me?”

“I’m pretty
sure that’s the way it works. Crime and punishment.”

“No, honey. No!
You need never be ashamed of how you got that scar. You got it doing something
noble. Something brave. You are just like a soldier hurt in battle.”

“No, I’m not.
I’m a horrible person. God is punishing me for leaving you, for hurting you.”

“Tara,
you got scarred trying to save that man’s life. A man dying from lung cancer
lighting the last miserable cigarette of his miserable wife-stealing, poet
lariat life.”

“I told you.
Poet
Laureate
.”

“Yep, first he
got you with them pretty words and then he kept you prisoner with them. He used
you to nurse him through the last miserable part of his life because he was
scared to die alone.”

“How did you
know
, Zane?
Nobody
knew that.”

“Cause I know
your heart, Tara. You pick up baby birds and put them
back in the nest. You bottle feed abandoned kittens. You rescue every wounded
thing you’ve ever seen. Except
yourself
.”

Her breath
shuddered out slowly. “Zane, you’ve changed so much. I like this version of
you, but I don’t recognize you. I want to believe what you’re saying, but I
still betrayed you. There’s no going back.”

“You came by
your scars in the most loving way you could. You had compassion for another
human being.” He paused. “Like I have compassion for you, right now. You’re on
fire and I’m gonna put it out. There may be no going back, but there’s
forgiveness, Tara. Drink up my forgiveness and we will
go forward. Together. You’ll never get another offer like it.”

Her lips
trembled and she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed once. “Zane! How can
you forgive me so easy?”

“Because the
alternative--no forgiveness--means I lose you forever and ever. I’ve been two
years down the road of being furious with you. And now, I’m done with my anger
because it’s keeping us from mending this mess we call our lives.”

***

Zane peeled off
the rest of Tara’s clothing – her black clothing – and
at her nod, dumped them in the kitchen trash. He near-gasped at the sight of
her rail-thin body, every rib showing, every bruise on her white skin
increasing his concern at her frailty.

He shed his own
clothing right into the washing machine. Naked, he picked up Tara
and carried her into the master bath. He stood with her in the shower,
supporting her weight against his body as the hot water cascaded down. He was
careful not to let the spray hit her face, especially the ridged, rippled scar
that marred her former rodeo-queen-perfect beauty.

He soaped up a
sea sponge and washed her body as she leaned into him, astounded at the visible
knobs of her spine and her sharp collarbones and shoulder blades. He shampooed
and conditioned her tangled long blonde hair and took inventory of her cuts and
bruises, her purple, twisted ankle. When they were both clean, he carried her
from the shower to the heart-shaped red tub and gently laid her in the rising
water.

“Too hot?” he
asked.

“No, it’s
perfect. I was really cold when you found me. Despite the dogs. By the way,
where are Ty and Fly?”

“In the barn in
the remodeled tack room. I’ve got a heater going and they have a doggie door if
they want to go out.”

“Wow, you
thought of everything.” She smiled as he opened the bathroom cabinet and pawed
through an array of Bath and Body
Works products.

“Where did you
get all this?”

“Internet. We
have an air card now. It’s a whole new world for me…I like bubble baths in this
tub. Don’t spread that around.”

She giggled and
sank down further into the tub. He squeezed some bubble bath into the tub but
didn’t get in himself. He wrapped a robe around himself and made to leave the
bathroom.

“Don’t go,” she
said. “Come in with me.”

He chuckled.
“You sure are in a hurry to get me inside of you.”

Tara
blushed.

“Patience,
darlin’. I’m going to fix some supper. And then I’m gonna make love to you
until the sun comes up. I’m going to kiss every soft place,
every
one. So you just take your time in
there in the tub and rest a bit. Enjoy the moments.”

As he stepped
away, she said, “I missed you so much, Zane.”

“Likewise,
princess.”

He left the
bathroom.

Tara
almost dozed in the tub as she heard expert chopping in the kitchen and then
something crackling. Then she smelled toast and bacon and coffee and was
suddenly ravenous and wide awake.

***

Just as he
dished out the omelets and bacon and toast, she hobbled into the kitchen, using
a cane.

“Hey, you found
my daddy’s cane in the closet.”

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all.
And I think Daddy would be amused to see you using it.”

“Well, I can’t
have you carrying me from room to room. On some level, I need to be self
piloting. This is the only thing I could find to walk from the bathroom to the
kitchen. By the way, I had a gander at the master bedroom. It’s breathtaking.”

Zane nodded.
“It should be. You designed it. And you’re the Martha Stewart of Wyoming.
Are you hurting still?”

“Feeling less
pain now that the dental drugs and a good long soak in the tub fixed me for a
few hours. I’m sure I’ll be whining come morning and want you to take me for
x-rays.”

“Of course I
will. But for now: pray, eat, love.”

She smiled at
him. “You saw the Julia Roberts movie,
Eat,
Pray, Love
? A chick movie?”

“A great story
about transformation though her wanderings seemed a little like that
Family Circus
comic and Billy’s
roundabout trails everywhere. At the end of the movie, to me, she was still
lost in my opinion. Like a hound dog with pepper on his nose.”

Tara
laughed.

“It’s good to
hear you laugh, honey.” He buttered the toast. “Not scared to face me now?”

“No. I don’t
know why I went off the deep end. It’s just a face. My arms and legs still
work. My mouth, too. And I guess my brain. You make a lot of sense, Zane.”

“That’s why you
like me.” He paused, blackberry jam jar in midair. “You do like me, don’t ya?”

“I never stopped.
Not for a minute. I just didn’t know how to fix it all. What I did.”

“
I
know how. We’re gettin’ to that part
of the reunion. I promise. Patience will be its own reward.”

She lifted her
eyebrows as he splashed milk into a tall glass and handed it to her, a tiny bit
sloshing over onto her hand.

“Are you
secretly angry with me?” Tara asked.

“Oh, it’s not a
secret. I’m going to punish you with my tongue until you beg for mercy and cry
out my name to the mountains, and to the night, and to Jesus himself.”

Her
eyes misted with unshed tears. “OK, mister. The jig is up. Who are you and what
have you done with my ex-husband?”

Zane laughed
and fed her a bite of toast with jam. “I just gave myself a makeover, just like
in them women’s magazines and self-help books that kept coming to our PO box.”
Zane cleared his throat. “I’ve been sober for an entire year. I just wanted to
tell you that, straight up, so you don’t think I’ve been possessed by aliens.”