Time Tantrums (11 page)

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Authors: Ginger Simpson

BOOK: Time Tantrums
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From the corner of her eye, the scenery outside seemed to move instead of the car. Her stomach rolled, and she felt ill. The feeling lessened if she looked directly through the front window.
 
She focused on the road ahead.

The landscape changed the farther they traveled. Houses rather than tall buildings now lined the streets. Beautiful homes decorated with shrubs and grass. She always thought her home beautiful, but these were very different. She looked from one side to the other, not wanting to miss a thing.

The car slowed before houses situated so close together, they reminded her of the buildings around the mercantile. David turned into an opening in front of a brick building and stopped. “We’re home,” he announced with a grin.

She stiffened at his announcement.
 

His was a two-story, just like her home on the Rocking C but larger. David got out
,
 
came
around ad opened her door. She stood, clutching her hospital gown, and stared wide-eyed at the sea of green, evenly cut and separated by a brick walkway that matched the house.

David looked at her. “If I’d known you weren’t going to wear your clothes home, I would have brought your robe. Let’s get you inside.”
 
He led her past a door labeled 1A.

He stopped at 1B, inserted a key, pushed open the door and stepped inside. With a bow, he made a sweeping gesture. “Here we are. Welcome home.”

Shouldn’t she remember this? Her mind reeled.
Cars, houses of all colors and sizes, buildings taller than the hills around the Rocking C.
Her hard swallow pushed down the lump that formed in her throat.

She reached out and touched the plaque on the door. “What does 1A and 1B mean?”

David’s lips thinned. “Those are the address numbers of the condos. There are two together. Next door is 1C and 1D and so on.”

Condos?
She wasn't asking. She'd just assume condo was a new word for home.

 
A shiny, marble floor greeted her in the entryway. She touched the small blossoms on the wall covering, then took two steps and sunk into a downy rug, the largest she'd ever seen.
 
It wasn't even braided and went from one wall to the other.

 
She looked at David. “This…this is breathtaking.”
 
She didn’t know what else to say. The room was full of beautiful things—furniture, paintings, plants.

 
Could they really be hers? How could she forget such lovely things?

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Colorado Territory--1872

 

Frank, already seated in the buggy, took Taylor’s hand and helped her inside. She tried to manage a graceful entrance, but the hem of Mariah’s long dress caught on the carriage step and Taylor nearly fell backwards. She flailed her arms and struggled to retain her balance, grabbing Frank’s hand in her panic. “Geez Louise, how in the hell do women maneuver in these things?”

He clasped her hand and steadied her. “Careful!”

Taylor plopped next to him, pulled her full skirt inside and tucked it under her legs. Once settled, she smoothed the material and folded her hands in her lap. “Okay, give it the gas, I’m ready!”

He tilted his head and gave her a sidelong glance. “I’m not even gonna ask your meaning. No doubt your answer’ll be just as confusin’.” Frank rippled the reins and the buggy began to roll. Gert’s slow pace was consistent with her age.

 
Taylor leaned back and relaxed. She’d never taken a horse and buggy ride before, and she inhaled a deep breath of fresh air. It felt good to be out of the house. Besides an occasional birdcall, only the slight creak of turning wheels and the clip-clop of Gert’s hoofs on the hard dirt disturbed the morning stillness.

A beautiful day loomed. Taylor straightened to view the breathtaking scenery. For endless miles, expansive fields of swaying grass and wild flowers colored the landscape. The sun, inching toward wisps of white clouds floating high in a powder blue sky, created the perfect backdrop. A cool morning breeze caressed her face, and her body moved in sync with the swaying buggy. For the first time in days, she found herself enjoying something.

Frank hadn’t uttered a word since they passed under the big C on the front gate. He leaned forward, arms resting on his knees, and held the reins in both hands. He stared straight ahead, seemingly lost in thought. Since the brim of his hat partially hid his face, she had difficulty determining his mood.

 
He'd talk eventually, she felt sure. He started the day in a good mood and she hadn't done anything to ruin it.

Craning her neck to see beyond the crest of the next hill, Taylor's breath hitched. “Oh, this is beautiful. I’ve never seen such a serene setting. Is all this land yours?”

As if her cheerful statement woke him, Frank leaned back and pushed his hat off his forehead. “Yep, this is all
ours
.”

For a fleeting moment, Taylor’s hackles spiked at his inference they were a couple, but she took a big gulp of fresh air and decided to ignore it. Her gaze roamed from side-to-side, her eyes widened. “It’s really beautiful. I’ve never seen such vibrant colors. How did you...we come to own so much property?”

He made a clicking nose to urge Gert up a small knoll. “My father started the ranch years ago, but it got to be too much for him. I’m an only son, so he passed it on to me.”

“Where does your family live now?”

Frank’s jaw tensed. “My father died a few years back.”

Taylor rested her hand atop his. “I’m sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine losing a parent. Mine are very dear to me."
 
Her heart ached at the thought of never seeing her own again.
 
She dismissed her worry and focused on Frank. "What about your mother?”

“I still have Ma.” The sparkle returned to his voice. “She shares a home with my spinster sister. We’ll have to pay them a visit.”

“Great,” Taylor mumbled far beneath her breath. The last thing she needed was more strange faces spouting memories of which she had no recollections. She simply smiled and nodded.

Frank stopped the buggy in a little valley and turned to Taylor. “Let’s get out. There’s something I want you to see.”

He jumped down and went around to her side of the carriage. Spanning her waist with his long fingers, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing and placed her on the ground. With his palm in the small of her back, he urged her toward the top of the hill. At the crest, he pointed. “What do you think?”

The sea of grass had become fodder for a huge herd of cattle.
For as far as she could see, cows dotted the landscape.
Taylor’s mouth gaped. “I’ve never seen so many animals in one place.” She shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand and scanned the area. “Oh, Frank, it really is beautiful here.”

He smiled and draped his arm around her shoulder. “Does it jog any memories for you?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t. But that doesn’t make it any less spectacular. This is breathtaking.”
 

Uncomfortable with his show of affection, she took a step forward and bent to pick a wildflower. She held it to her nose and inhaled the faint sweetness. “Thank you for bringing me here. I’ve truly enjoyed the outing. I never would have guessed your ranch was this big.”

“Ours!” he corrected.

“All right,
ours
,” she relented. “I know what you’re hoping for, but it’s not going to work. I wish I could be Mariah for you… I can’t. I may look like her, but I’m Taylor and nothing is going to convince me otherwise.”

Frank’s stony gaze pierced her. He grabbed her upper arms and pulled her close. “I’ll never believe that you aren’t Mariah.”

He searched her face. His probing eyes mirrored the desperation she’d just heard in his voice. She tensed at his sudden change of mood and struggled to get free. “Let me go!”

Instead, he tightened his hold and crushed her against him. “You feel so familiar… so good.”

Before she could object, he bent his head and boldly covered her mouth with a searing kiss.

Taylor’s conscience screamed for her to stop, but her body argued. The feel of lips against hers stirred familiar sensations—ones she missed. He pulled her closer and trailed his hand along her back. Goosebumps peppered her arms; her nostrils filled with his manly scent. Blinded by need, she snaked her arms around his neck and leaned into him, pushing her mouth harder against his.

 
He’s not David. Stop!
 
Her conscience argued with her needs.

Her husband's name echoing in her mind brought her to her senses. She shoved Frank away, keeping him at arms’ length. “Stop, please. We mustn’t.”

He took a deep breath and stepped back. “You seemed to enjoy it. What’s wrong?”

She gazed into his probing blue eyes. “Don’t misinterpret what just happened. I shouldn’t have responded the way I did. It’s not right. I’m married to someone else. I got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

Frank adjusted his pant leg. “I’ll say it was a heated moment, and it felt good. No, damn it—it felt wonderful! I’ve missed your kisses. I’ve missed holding you in my arms and making love to you. It’s not right to expect a man to go so long without lovin’. You always welcomed my kisses and—”

“No! Mariah welcomed your kisses and shows of affection. I’m not her, remember?”

Frank shook his head. His lips pulled into a frown. “No, I don’t remember. I look at you standing before me and I see Mariah. I kissed you and tasted Mariah. How in God’s name do you expect me to think of you as anyone else?”
 
His shoulders sagged.

 
“I think we should go back to the ranch now. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Taylor abruptly turned and walked back toward the buggy, but glanced over her shoulder to see if he followed.

He took his hat off and slapped it against his leg.
“Fine!
Maybe you aren’t Mariah after all. She never ran from a fight and always faced problems head on. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m really who I think I am.”
 
He stomped down the hill, silently helped her to her seat,
then
took his own. Gert stepped lively at Frank’s hefty flick of the reins.

The ride back to the ranch was a quiet one. Taylor kept her head turned from him so he couldn’t see the tears of frustration running down her cheeks. Poor Gert was forced to endure a much faster pace, as it appeared Frank was eager to have the outing come to an end.

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Denver, Colorado—2002

 

David led Mariah to the bedroom and had her stand in front of two wide doors. “This is your closet.” He opened it and stood aside. “Find something comfortable to put on. You must be tired of holding that gown closed.”

Mariah stared at the clothing inside. She slid the colorful hangers apart and inspected each garment. Her armoire paled in comparison to the array of pants, dresses, shirts, and skirts she viewed.
 
Even a few things she couldn't identify as clothing.

 
She fingered a see-through piece of silk adorned with fluffs of fur.
Her eyes widened and she glanced at David but dared not ask where someone wore such a flimsy piece. “Someone certainly has a bounty of things.”

“Taylor, it’s your closet.”


Mariah
,” she corrected him. “And it’s not
my
closet. I’ve never worn anything like this before.” She thrust a pair of blue jeans toward him.

“Just try them on. You wear them all the time.” He reached up to the overhead shelf, pulled down a red shirt and handed to her. “Here, put this on with them. You like wearing jeans and a tee shirt.”

She held up the top and wrinkled her nose. “It just doesn’t seem proper.”

“Trust me. You’ll like wearing them once they're on. It’ll be better than the gown, I promise. He put his hand on the door knob. “I’ll leave you to change.” He left but the door re-opened slightly and he peered inside. “By the way, your underwear is in the top left drawer of the dresser.”

Alone in the room, Mariah clutched the clothing and looked around. Her gaze rested on the bed, with its huge headboard and ornate posts. A whole family could sleep in it.

She looked across the room, at a dresser covered with multi-colored bottles and jars.

 
Mariah laid the clothes atop the bed, walked over, and picked up one of the many different vessels. She wrestled with the top and jumped when a fine mist dampened the side of her face. A sweet aroma filled the air.

 
The squinted at the writing on the bottle's bottom, but the print was far too small to read.
Must be toilet water.
Sure smells good.

 
She turned the opening toward her neck and sprayed behind her ear, then examined the tiny pinhole in the cap. “Lordy, what will they think of next?”
 
For good measure, she sent another spritz wafting in the air.

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