The Lonely Lady

by Michelle Sutton

  He glanced at her beauty license hanging on the wall, taking in the orderliness of her booth. Just like Tara. Neat and clean, and so very sweet. He couldn't contain the goofy smile that formed when he caught her staring at him. Man, how he'd missed her. Everything about her made his heart throb, from her incredibly feminine scent to her contagious giggle. Until now, he hadn't realized how much.

  Her gaze darted away the moment he stared back. He smiled again, hoping for a similar reaction. Instead, she nibbled on her lower lip and her chin trembled.

  After he sat rigid on the stool, she adjusted the height with several vigorous pumps to the chair. As she combed through his hair, he took in the red sweater that molded to her sumptuous curves and revealed a tiny hint of cleavage. It was uncomfortably close to his eye level, which didn't help him control his reaction, but made the tenuous situation even more delicate.

  He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her, or control his thoughts. The smock she wore pulled tight and tapered to her thin waist, but gaped just enough on top that he could see her reaction to the cool air. Or maybe it was his proximity that made her body respond. He wondered if she still wore that tiny diamond stud in her navel. He'd always found that incredibly sexy. The mental image of her bare, tan stomach made his body stir. He shifted in his seat. Not a good idea to be resurrecting images from their past.

  Though very sensual and feminine, Tara had always impressed him with the way she carried herself with respect and without flaunting her good looks. Even when she had donned only tee shirts and ripped jeans in high school, she still reeked of femininity. Suddenly he longed to start over with her and kiss her senseless. But he couldn't go back there. Not to the way things were, anyway. He had to remember she didn't share his faith.

  As she parted his hair, her brow furrowed as she snipped his hair into layers. She licked her full, pouty lips, deep in thought, like she took her skill seriously and didn't want to mess anything up. He supposed he should be thankful that she planned to do a good job and not screw it up on purpose because he'd hurt her.

  He watched her tongue sliding across her mouth and allowed himself to fantasize about kissing her again, of tasting her with abandon. They'd been so good together, even if what they'd done was wrong at the time. His heart and body felt super-glued to hers, and now he thanked God he'd avoided dating other girls in college. Tara had been his first love, his first intimate relationship... and his last kiss.

  Only the last time they'd seen each other they'd done more than kiss. He remembered how they'd lain together and she'd told him in that sexy breathless voice of hers that she'd loved him. He'd wanted so much to say the same thing back, but knew he couldn't do that and then leave her. So he'd remained silent.

  His pulse hummed at her nearness and her scent. He shifted uncomfortably. Maybe he should have waited until Tuesday. She was entirely too physically tempting. And if she was even half as kindhearted as she used to be, he'd be a goner for sure. In fact, he wanted her more now than he ever had before. She was the most amazing woman he'd ever known. So why wasn't she married?

  Lord, help me, but I want to start seeing her again. I want to touch her and love her with my whole being.

  He had to be honest with God and tell him how he felt even though he knew he couldn't see her anymore. Not even socially. Not if she still disregarded God as much as she had before he'd left her to attend college. He thought about asking if she'd changed her beliefs, but lost his nerve when she touched her full lips with her finger.

  "Please. Don't talk. I have a wicked headache."

  He swallowed hard, remembering the satiny feel of her warm lips against his, of their mouths exploring each other until they were breathless. Of sneaking into her bedroom after school each day. He suppressed a moan. This was torture, plain and simple. He didn't know how much more of her nearness he could take.

  She must have noticed him staring at her lips because she cleared her throat and asked with a shaky voice, "How short do you want it?"

  Warmth spread from his neck to his ears as she peered into his eyes. He fought to speak without his voice cracking. "Do um, what you... Do whatever you want."

  With a sly grin, she snickered and held up the electric clippers. "Shall I buzz it all off military style?"

  How like Tara. Always breaking the tension with a joke. He missed her so much. Until today, he hadn't realized how much.

  Reaching to cover his head, he pressed his hands over his thick, wet mop. "Not that short. Uh-uh. I'd look too ugly bald."

  Laughing, she said, "You could never look ugly."

  Silence reigned between them for a moment.

  "Thanks, Tara."

  She darted her gaze away and snickered. Setting the clippers down, she grabbed scissors and a comb and moved it next to his ear. "Are you sure you trust me? I might slip."

  The sound of laughter in her voice warmed him to his toes. Though he knew she teased him by the gleam in her eyes, for a moment he worried she might "accidentally" hurt him. Not that he wouldn't deserve a little physical pain after what he'd done. In fact, it might even make him feel better.

  Maybe he should bump her hand so she'd cut into his ear. The pain might distract him from the burning ache in his heart. No doubt she'd feel bad about it, even if he'd made her slip. Holding his breath for a moment, he forced out the words clogging his throat. "Tara... I'm sorry I left without calling you and staying in touch... and without telling you why."

  She stopped moving. Froze like a statue. Only her eyes flicked to examine his reflection in the mirror. Her shoulders straightened, and she resumed combing and snipping. "I know why you left. It doesn't matter anymore."

  "It matters to me." Reaching for her arm, he touched it gently and whispered, "Please, just let me explain."

  Backing away from him, she stared as if his hand had scorched her arm. "I can't cut your hair if you keep moving." She pointed the comb at his face and frowned. "Don't touch me and don't talk anymore. This is taking too long as it is."

  Pressing his lips together, he closed his eyes and decided not to argue with her. His thoughts were already in a jumble, and he worried if he forced the issue, he'd say the wrong thing and hurt her even more.

  So, she wasn't ready to talk about the past. He would honor that. The Lord would provide another opportunity for him to make amends. He was sure of it.

  Chapter Two

  Tara received a handsome tip from Josiah and offered him a polite smile. Somehow she'd survived the torture of being around him without saying something she'd regret.

  "Thank you."

  "No problem. Tara, I..." His statement drifted off when she looked up at the clock. "I'm sorry you'll be late getting home."

  "I'll manage." Under her breath she prayed he'd just hurry up and leave. She had to get home before her mom was alone for too long. She couldn't be left for more than a few minutes without supervision because sometimes she would do things that were dangerous without realizing it. Once she'd taken a shower and tried to shave her own legs, but she'd slipped and fallen. Tara came home and found her mother lying on the bathroom floor crying. What a bloody mess that had been. So now they had a no shower rule unless Tara was home.

  Her respite provider Jamie had reminded her several times that morning that she had a flight to catch in Tucson and would be leaving at 8:15 PM whether she arrived home on time, or not. Tara had reassured her that she would get there in time. So much for that plan. It was already 8:30 and she still needed to lock up and set the alarm.

  Josiah hovered and seemed to watch her every move. He made her nervous.

  "What?" She spun around and caught Josiah staring at her.

  "I don't want you walking home alone. Not when it's dark outside."

  She rolled her eyes. "Why should you care? I've been doing it for years. Besides, Mom and I moved from our old house and now I only live down the street."

  It was more like half a mile down the street, but he didn't need to know that.

  "
You don't have a car?"

  "No. Not since the accident."

  "Your mom's pickup got wrecked?"

  "Totaled. The money from the insurance paid the bills, or I wouldn't have been able to finish high school."

  "Seriously? When did it happen?"

  "A month before graduation. Now I need to go. Please don't follow me around. I don't want to miss anything when I lock up, and you're making me nervous."

  His shoulders slumped, but he turned and headed out the front door.

  She grabbed her purse and checked the door locks. While she was in the middle of setting the alarm, her cell phone rang. "Tara? It's your neighbor, Ella. I got home around eight and thought you might want to know that the person from respite care left about ten minutes ago. At first I thought you were home, but something told me I should stop by to make sure. I tried to check on your mom when you didn't answer the door, but the door was locked, and your mom wouldn't answer. I even knocked and called through the window."

  Her heart hammered. While she'd told her mom never to answer the door when she wasn't the one standing behind it, she couldn't help worrying that something might be wrong. "Thanks. I'll be right there."

  As she locked the salon's front door, she took a deep breath, hoping to calm her nerves. Her mom was probably sitting in front of the television watching her favorite sit-com right now, oblivious to the nervous wreck Tara had become from hearing the concern in her neighbor's voice. Some days the responsibility of caring for her mother was too overwhelming.

  She turned and ran smack into Josiah.

  A scream escaped her lips before she could stop it and she punched Josiah's chest. "What are you doing out here? You scared me half to death."

  "I'm sorry. It's just... well, it's dark out and I'd feel less than chivalrous letting a beautiful young woman like yourself walk home without an escort."

  As Tara exhaled, she snorted, "Oh, please. This isn't the old west and I don't need an escort home. You're just being paranoid."

  "I'm not, though. See? You're trembling." He reached for her hand and she stepped back.

  "That's only because I wasn't expecting anyone to be out here. You're throwing off my routine. Now, please, just leave me alone and go home to your family."

  "Not until I walk you to your place." He stood in her way.

  "Why? So you can see how bad off I am? I don't think so." Josiah had not only been the most popular guy in his graduating class, but his family was the richest in the area. His parents had millions, while her mom had raised her in a little two-bedroom house and without a father. They'd been mismatched from the start.

  Josiah captured her gaze. "You know I never cared about that."

  Probably because he knew whenever her mom was at work that they'd have the house to themselves. No need to romp in the back seat of his car or grab a hotel room when he could just crash in Tara's bed, right? Her mom had worked second shift at the local diner so they'd literally had the place to themselves every day after school.

  "Yeah, I know what you cared more about..." she muttered.

  "Hey. It wasn't like that." His eyes now held a tinge of sadness and she'd grown tired of arguing.

  "Fine. Walk me, but don't talk. I'm already late."

  With that, she stomped away from him, not caring how juvenile she might look. He was not going to mess with her feelings. She had responsibilities now, none of which included him. And with her mom being so child-like herself that she was unaware most of the time of what was going on around her, Josiah would be wise to stay out of the apartment she shared with her mother. She didn't want history to repeat itself.

  She heard his feet scurrying to keep up as she speed walked down the hill to her place, but refused to look over her shoulder. Soon, she felt his large hand on her back.

  "Please don't touch me."

  "Sorry." He pulled his hand away and she felt an overwhelming sense of loss. This must be why God told people to wait until marriage to have sex. She had a strong bond with Josiah because they'd shared their bodies and their hearts. Could that bond ever be broken? Would she always hurt like this when she saw him?

  As she walked briskly toward her place, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and made up her mind. She couldn't get back together with him. It would be too hard. He was her ex and that was all he'd ever be. They couldn't even be friends.

  "What are you thinking about?"

  Tara ignored him and kept walking.

  "Please, talk to me, Tee." This time he grabbed her elbow, forcing her to pause.

  Why not lay it all out there?

  "Okay, fine. I was thinking about how we'd spent so much time in bed together in my old house. Then I was reminding myself of why that would never happen again. Not with you."

  He winced, but didn't respond.

  Fine, let him chew on that awhile.

  He didn't say another word as she arrived at her apartment door and dug in her purse for the key. She slipped it in the lock.

  "I'm sorry, Tara." His voice was so low that she almost didn't hear him.

  Unable to help scowling, she turned and glared at him. "For what?"

  "For sleeping with you. I should never have talked you into it. I know that now."

  "Yeah, well, it was a mutual thing. I wanted it as much as you. But it's too late to change the past. I just want to move on with my life. Thanks so much for walking me home."

  She knew the ugly truth of why he'd left her. Of why he regretted sleeping with her. She'd told him the last time they'd had sex that she'd loved him. He couldn't handle it back then and he'd left her, so she would never again entrust her heart to him.

  He touched her chin so she had to look up at him. "For what it's worth, I loved you so much. I've always loved you, Tee."

  She turned her face away. No. It was too late for them. She opened the door and slammed it shut in his face before she started bawling. How dare he stroll back into town and play with her feelings? Didn't he realize how much pain he'd caused? Obviously not, or he wouldn't be saying things to make her remember things she wanted to forget.

  As she leaned against the door, she closed her eyes and willed herself to stop crying. After a full minute, she finally calmed her breathing. That was when she heard the blood-curdling scream.

  *****

  Josiah swallowed the bullet-sized lump in his throat. Why had he told her that he'd loved her? Was he that self-centered and cruel that he wouldn't consider the impact his words would have on her heart? At first he thought they would soothe her, reassure her even. But the look of horror in her eyes told him he'd said the worst thing possible. She'd looked like how he imagined a woman about to be burned at the stake would look as she approached the pitch-covered wood.

  Maybe she didn't love him anymore. Maybe she regretted ever loving him and telling him that. Had she dated anyone since he'd left for college? What might it mean if she had waited for him? Did any of that matter now? She wasn't a Christian, and he couldn't risk his heart with someone who didn't share his faith. Part of that was his fault. Actually, most of it was. The guilt from knowing he'd contributed to her lack of faith destroyed any hope he might have for them.

  When he'd returned from camp the summer following his senior year, he should've told her about the Lord. Told her about his change of heart, and his newfound faith. Instead he kept on seeing her and sleeping with her just like they had before he found Christ. Every time they'd had sex that summer made it that much harder for him to bring up the subject of his new faith in Jesus. And the guilt had become unbearable. He could tell she knew something was wrong, but she never asked. Maybe she'd been afraid of losing him, which had happened anyway.

  The more he saw her, the more he wanted to marry her instead of going to Bible College, even though he clearly knew God had called him to the mission field. He thought again about how he'd agonized over their relationship and finally contacted the youth pastor at his church. He advised Josiah to cut off ties to anything that was going to get in t
he way of God's calling on his life. And he hadn't even told the youth pastor about their relationship. Maybe he should have told him the truth. Might that have made a difference? He doubted it.

  So what had he done? He'd wimped out and sent Tara an e-mail telling her he was going to college to become a missionary. She'd responded with shock and horror and had essentially called him a liar when she told him there was no way it could be true. Her heartfelt plea to reconsider and come to his senses arrived in his inbox the next day. He struggled with his decision and started doubting his calling, so he deleted his e-mail account and never responded. Now she may never have faith in Christ, and he could only blame himself. What a lousy witness he'd been.

  But man, seeing her again brought those heart flutters back as if they'd never parted ways. She was so tempting. Memories from their past relationship rose to the surface of his mind, making the images difficult to ignore. But he'd have to deal with her every time he participated in shows or acted the part of the preacher. When he wasn't running his parents' ranch, he planned to be in the thick of things in town. His goal to become a missionary had vaporized the minute his parents coerced him to return to Arizona after his father's heart attack. So he fell back on acting for entertainment. It was all he had left.

  While still deep in thought about all that he regretted about his past, Josiah strolled by the salon. Someone must be inside because the light was on. Had another employee returned to pick something up? He slid against the side of the building and peeked inside, careful not to reveal himself. The person's face was concealed by a dark ski mask.

  He'd stumbled upon a burglary.

  His heart now racing, he closed his eyes and prayed for wisdom. Should he startle the burglar? Wait until he left the building and then tackle him? Was the man armed and dangerous or just an amateur? The outfit suggested this wasn't his first burglary, but it looked so Hollywood he couldn't help wondering if it was the burglar's first time. The setting seemed surreal as he waited.

  Reaching for his cell phone, he decided to dial 911 and contact the police before he did something stupid and got himself killed. As the operator answered, the burglar came flying out of the building. Without thinking, Josiah hung up the phone and took off running after him. But the burglar was as quick as an Olympic runner and took off so fast, Josiah lost track of him as he rounded the corner and disappeared into the night.