Time Tantrums (17 page)

“Did you say something?”
 

“I’ll be right down. You can come in if you’d like.”
 
She quickly pulled her robe closed and raked fingers through her tangled hair.
She wanted to plunge her head into the bowl of water and drown herself. She didn’t even the correct answers to Frank’s questions and now she had a new bunch of strangers waiting to grill her.

He entered with huge smile on his face, seeming way too cheerful for so early in the morning. “It’s the Ladies’ Angelical Society. They’ve come to pay a visit to see if they can help out while you recover.”

“Ladies what kind of society?
I don’t even know what that means. And recover? I am recovered... well almost.” She plopped down on the bed and crossed her arms.

“Mariah, don’t getting’ your nose out of joint, and stop actin’ like a child. They’re your friends. You need to get dressed and come downstairs to the parlor.”

The parlor?
Thank goodness I dusted in there.

What did one say to strange women who apparently thought they knew her?
 
She felt like a child being forced to take a bite of a dreaded vegetable. She felt Frank’s impatience.

“Oh, all right!” she snapped. “Tell them I’ll be right down.”

Frank winked and left the room. She crossed to the armoire and selected a flowered print dress, pulled it on, then smoothed the skirt. Her gaze rested on the ridiculous selection of shoes in the closet. She certainly didn’t want to suffer the pain and agony of the high button ones. And she thought high-heels were torture.

She slipped her feet into the only pair of low tops there. “No one can see my feet anyhow,” she mumbled.

Even those were stiff and uncomfortable. Mariah certainly had no fashion sense or eye for comfort. In fact, her whole closet was a fashion disaster. Taylor snapped her fingers. “See, another clue I’m not Frank’s wife. I hate her clothes
and
her shoes.

She stood before the mirror, yanked a brush through her disheveled hair, then pulled it back and tied it with a ribbon that complimented her dress. She paused for a moment and stared at her image. Why couldn’t she believe it was her face she saw?
 
It wasn’t an ugly one, but one makeup could work wonders on.

She pinched her cheeks until they turned red, copying what she’d once seen in a western movie. The rosy color faded almost immediately, and with a sigh, she turned from the mirror and peered down at her dowdy attire. “Well, this is as good as it gets.”

Pausing for a moment, she grasped the railing at the top of the stairs.
God, help me say the right thing. The last thing I need is anyone else thinking I’ve lost my mind.
She descended, feeling as though she’d been sentenced to the gallows instead of having tea with Mariah’s friends.

She took a deep breath before walking into the parlor, and the moment she appeared, the women converged on her, asking a million questions. As each one hugged her, she tried not to stiffen. She reminded herself to act like she knew them, but wondered how when she didn’t even know their names.

Frank entered and put his arm around her shoulders. “Ladies, ladies,” he spoke over the chatter. “Give my wife a little breathin’ space. She’s had a bad bump on her head and you’ll have to excuse her if she doesn’t remember everything. The doc says it’ll take some time, but her memory’ll come back.”

Taylor released a pent up breath and smiled. God bless Frank for being home and not out on the range. He looked at her and winked. “How about if I go put on a kettle of water so you ladies can have some tea?”

* * * *

Taylor bid the women goodbye and thanked them for coming. Clare, Francis, Maggie, LewAnn, Sarah, Opal, Minnette and Sassy each waited her turn for Frank’s help to get back into the wagons. Taylor felt a little annoyed at the way some of them brazenly flirted with him, but then reminded
herself
he wasn’t her husband. Why did she care?

Once they were all aboard, they called out their good-byes and headed their wagons toward the gate. Taylor stood on the porch and waved until she lost sight of them in swirling dust. Exhausted, she plopped down in her wicker chair.
“Oh my lord.
That was tiring.”

Frank laughed and took a seat next to her. “Yep, I can imagine.
All that
hen cluckin’ wore me out just listening.”

She smiled. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. I don’t think I could have managed an explanation.”

“Glad I could help.”

“Well, your help is still needed.”

“For what?”

“Sassy forced me to promise we’d come to town for the next church social.”

Frank eyes sparkled.
“Really?
That’ll be great.
When?”

“Next Sunday.”
 
Dread sat like a stone in the pit of her stomach. The last time she’d gone to church was when she married David. She imagined people in hell putting on coats for the upcoming freeze.

Chapter Twenty-two

Mariah was almost asleep when the bedroom door opened. Frozen with fear, she lay perfectly still and listened to footsteps coming closer. She considered screaming. Instead, she waited, with breath halted, afraid to roll over and look.

 
The side of the bed sagged with the weight of another’s body. The fragrance of David’s after-shave wafted past her nose. She relaxed, knowing it was only him and not one of the intruders she’d heard about on the evening news. The world had turned into a much uglier place than she recalled.

He touched her shoulder. “Taylor, are you asleep?”

His warm breath caressed the side of her face. “Yes…no! What do you want?"

“I can’t take it any longer. Sleeping in the guest room is killing me. I belong in here with you.”
 
He stretched out next to her.

Moonlight filtered through the blinds, providing a dim glow to the room’s interior and casting striations upon his face. She sat, but inched backwards. “You promised you wouldn’t rush me.”

“I know I did, but I can’t take it any more. It’s been over a month since we last made love. It’s never been this long before. Hell, you were always the one all over me. I never knew how much I’d miss that.”

His description was unthinkable. “I would never make the first move. It isn’t ladylike. My mother taught me better than that.”

He reached for her hand. “Taylor, even your mother jokes about you about being so sexual. Just relax and let it happen. Maybe it will help you remember how much we love each other.”

He attempted to pull her closer.

Mariah stiffened and put her hands against his chest. “My mother would never joke about something so personal. I can’t make love to you, and I won’t. Please, David, just stop.”

He sighed. “Taylor, I love you.”

Mariah held him at arm’s length. “You just don’t understand, David. I am
not
Taylor! Why can’t you understand that? I’ve never been with anyone except my husband, Frank. Making love with you would be a betrayal, not to mention a sin.”

“But what about me?
Don’t I matter? You tell me you aren’t Taylor, but every time I look at you, that’s who I see.”

“I can’t help that. I’m sorry. Honestly.”

He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his groin. “Feel that? You make this happen. My body wants you. Let me love you, Taylor. Don’t push me away, I’m begging you.”

Mariah jerked her hand away from his hardness and scrambled from the bed. Her body shook with anger as she glared at him. “I want you to stop, David! I mean it. For the last time, I am
not
your wife.”

A dejected look, visible even in the dim light, crept over his face. He sat up. “Okay, okay. I know I promised not to push myself on you and I’ll keep that vow. Really, I will. You can trust me.”

Mariah took a breath and plopped back onto the bed’s edge. “I know this is difficult for you. It is for both of us. If I let you stay here, can we just talk about Frank and Taylor? Then you’ll see just how real Frank is… and I’d like to get to know Taylor better. Can we just talk?”

A half-crooked smile formed on David’s lips. “Well, it’s better than being all alone across the hall.”

The both stretched out, but left ample space between their bodies.

Mariah inched beneath the covers, pulling them up beneath her chin like a protective barrier. She turned to her side and rested her head on the pillow. “Tell me what you miss most about Taylor... other than intimacy.”

Still atop the blankets, he folded his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles.
“Hmm!
That’s a hard question. My life with Taylor is intimacy. Like I said, she’s a pretty aggressive woman and not just in the bedroom. I think I miss her sassiness the most.”

“I’ve never been a sassy woman, although I do know one with that name. Sassy Clinton, she’s part of my church group.” Mariah chuckled.

“I’m not sure I believe in your fantasy world, but I’ll play along. Frank must be quite a man to hold your heart so dearly. What do you miss about him?”

“Oh, he is quite a man. As honest as the day is long, strong, yet
gentle,
and he makes me laugh. He’s great with the children. I think what I miss the most are the evenings we spend on the front porch after the children are in bed.”

David cocked his head to the side. “Taylor and I plan on having children someday. I’d like it to be soon, but she’s got other plans right now.”

Detecting his sadness, Mariah reached out and touched his arm. “I’m sure you’ll have lots of children, and you’ll probably be a wonderful father.”

He studied her face for the longest time then shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. You almost make me believe that Frank really exists.

* * * *

Sunlight flooded through a gap in the vertical blinds on the sliding door. Mariah turned away from the glare and glanced to the other side of the bed where David still slept. They had stayed awake, talking until almost dawn. After everything he’d shared with her, she was beginning to know Taylor quite well. She wished David believed in Frank as much as she did Taylor.

True to his word, David remained a perfect gentleman and had even asked permission to climb under the covers. His soft snore sounded in the silence. She gazed upon his sleeping form, appreciating his good looks and understanding how a woman could be attracted to him. Did Taylor love him as much as he loved her?

The constant rise and fall of his chest coincided with little snorts that flared his nostrils. He stirred unwelcome feelings that Mariah knew were a result of missing Frank. Still, she had an urge to reach over and touch his cheek, to brush aside the one lock of hair resting on his forehead. She reminded herself David was a good friend and nothing more, and she didn’t want to make him believe otherwise.

Being careful not to wake him, she edged off the bed, went into the bathroom and quietly closed the door. Her body ached from lack of a full night’s rest. A shower seemed like a good idea. While waiting for the water to warm, she searched for her toothbrush. She stood before the mirror and pondered the face staring back at her, and again wondered about Taylor’s feelings for David. “Wherever you are, Taylor,” Mariah whispered, “I hope you know how much David misses you. You’re a very lucky woman.”
 
Strange, but talking aloud to Taylor seemed almost normal.

Mariah opened the shower door and stepped into the steaming mist. The hot water soothed her body and relaxed her taut muscles. By the time she finished shampooing, the water had turned cold. She dried off, wrapped herself in the towel and tiptoed back into the bedroom. While opening the drawer to get clean underclothes, David stirred.

He stretched his hands above his head and opened his mouth in a half yawn, half sigh. Acting as though seeing her in a towel was normal, he smiled. “Good morning, sunshine. You’re up bright and early.”

She modestly clutched her wrap tighter and sidled toward the closet. “Guess I had enough sleep.” Why hadn’t she taken her clothes into the bathroom with her?

David sat and ran his hands through his thick hair. “You look fresh and clean. A shower might be just what I need, too. Tell you
what,
afterwards I’ll take you out for breakfast.”