"I... forgot." He knew that sounded lame, but it was true.
"How could you forget?" She fisted her hand on one hip. "You're not an old geezer yet."
"No, no. It's not because of my age." He scanned her face from the corner of his eye and tried to avoid looking at her lips. "Being with you tends to make my mind freeze up."
She smirked. "Oh, really? Now why is that?"
He stopped walking and turned her to fully face him. His heart lodged in his throat. He had to tell her about his faith, but his voice seemed just as frozen as his mind right now. "If I have to tell you why, Tara, that's pretty sad. Have you looked in the mirror lately?"
She snickered. "You sure know how to make a gal feel good about herself. Can't you do better than that?"
"Better than you? Nope. Don't think so. Uh uh."
"Not me, silly. I meant, can't you compliment me better? Boy, I see what you mean about your brain not working."
He nodded and shifted his feet, his hands now stuffed in his back pockets.
The box that held the Bible and gun slipped from under his arm, but she caught it in time. With a chuckle, she handed it to him. "You're going to break this if you're not careful."
"That's just it, Tara," he whispered, his throat tight. "I don't know if I can."
"What are you talking about?" Her brow furrowed. "You don't know if you can what?"
He rubbed his thumb across the wrinkle in her forehead and moved it down to her cheek in an attempt to relax her. It must've done the trick, because she smiled and closed her eyes.
"Be careful... enough. I don't want to break your heart again."
Her eyes snapped open. "You won't."
"How can you be sure?" He watched the expression on her face change as he cupped her cheek with one hand and held the Bible with the other. He tried to gauge her feelings toward him. What he saw made his insides quiver and heated him to the soles of his feet.
She glanced at his lips and lingered. "Because I won't let you."
"You won't?" His breath hitched at the sight of such restrained passion in her gaze. She was so close he could smell the clean scent of her hair.
Her teeth scraped her bottom lip and tiny dimples appeared in her cheeks. "That's right."
Before he could talk himself out of it, he set the box holding the Bible on the sidewalk, then returned to capture her attention. His hands framed her face. "You sure about that?"
She swallowed. Her nod was so slight it was almost imperceptible.
He bent to kiss her, but she gasped and turned her face away.
"Don't."
"Don't?" Of course she meant he had no business wanting to kiss her after what he'd done. His behavior toward her when he'd left for college was despicable.
She heaved a sigh and muttered something quietly to herself as she turned and marched up the slight hill toward the shop.
Bending to grab his Bible, he berated himself for trying something so stupid. Now she might never trust him again. And for what? A kiss that never happened?
"Tara, wait..."
She clutched her skirt in her hands so she wouldn't trip as she ran away from him. As he examined her lace up granny boots, he wondered what life would have been like back in the days when Tombstone was a thriving city. Would she have even given him a second glance?
Probably not. He consoled himself with that thought. The more he longed for her to feel something for him, the more it bothered him when he seemed to have the opposite effect on her.
A few minutes later he stood outside the building as Tara unlocked the door and entered the salon. There didn't seem to be any damage to the door. Then again, it was an old-fashioned lock that a lizard could probably pick if it tried hard enough.
She waved for him to step inside, so he followed her and scanned the room. Nothing was destroyed or out of place, but the alarm had not been set, as he had suspected, or it would've gone off by now.
She stepped over to the register and opened it. Her choking gasp told him it was probably empty, as they'd suspected. He watched her face as she searched the large calendar with her finger and groaned.
"They've stolen four hundred and twenty three dollars."
"That's the total amount you're missing?"
"It looks that way, but it's minus what you paid me."
He stepped up behind her and glanced over her shoulder. The thief had left the change in the register, but other than several debit card slips tucked under the top drawer, the register appeared to be completely empty. He noted no damage to the register itself.
"Does that thing lock with a key?"
She frowned. "No, it's supposed to unlock with a pass code. But how would they know what the code is?"
"Is it hard to figure out?"
Biting her lip, she seemed to scan her memory. "No. Anyone could guess the number to unlock the drawer. Freida didn't want to forget the combo, so she made it something we all knew and would easily remember."
"Bad idea." He reached into his wallet and handed her a twenty and a five. "Here's what I paid you last night. Keep the change just like last time."
"Thanks. But what do we do about the rest of it?"
"I'll get it for you. Just give me a few minutes to raid my money box at home."
"Okay. How long will it take you to get back?"
"I'll be back as soon as I can. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes. Wait here."
She nodded and sat behind the desk. "Please hurry. I don't want to get caught here on a weekend when we're obviously closed."
Shouting over his shoulder, he said, "If anyone asks, I needed change." He took off at a brisk pace and practically sprinted to his truck. What he'd said didn't even make sense. Oh, well. He would make sure she wasn't waiting long because her boss could decide to stop in and then what would Tara do? He'd rather not take that chance.
She yelled something back but he didn't understand a word. He'd ask her what she'd said when he returned. Timing was critical. The less time she waited at the salon, the better.
As he walked up his driveway, he reflected on the vast difference between his resources and Tara's. There had always been a major rift between them when it came to money. No doubt one of the things that had made Tara so insecure with him back in high school had to do with his family's wealth. She never did believe him when he told her it didn't matter.
To her it had always mattered. Probably because her mother had made it clear on more than one occasion that she thought he was using her daughter. Tara denied they were intimate. He'd heard her lie to her mother, and he didn't dispute that fact.
Had he been using her when they were young lovers? He didn't think so.
So why had her mother been so sure that he was?
Chapter Five
Tara heard the sound of a car motor purring in the lot. Not sure how Josiah had managed to get back so quickly, she peered through the window to check on him.
Nausea rose in her throat the moment she realized Josiah had not returned, but the owner of the salon. How would she explain why she was there? She glanced around the room and tried to decide what to do.
Lord, help me out here.
The bathroom.
She quickly set the alarm and ran and hid. She prayed that Frieda had stopped by for another reason. If she needed to use the bathroom, then Tara would be sunk.
Her pulse thrummed in her veins as she held her breath and waited, listening to Frieda move around as if searching for something. It sounded like she was also talking to someone, when an object fell and hit the floor.
"Here it is. I knew I left it at work. I should've stopped by last night. Then I would've slept better. Thanks for praying for me. See you in a few. Bye."
It sounded like she was on her cell phone. Footsteps plodded away from the bathroom and in the direction of the door. The moment she heard the alarm set and the door shut, she took a deep breath and sighed. That was too close.
She waited just a few more minutes and opened the bathro
om door. She had sixty seconds to turn off the alarm. With her finger trembling, she pressed the buttons and waited for the alarm to clear. The necessary beep emitted and she allowed herself to breathe again. She'd never been so scared in her life.
If Frieda had found her there, she might have thought Tara had stolen the money. That would've been a disaster, especially if she'd been arrested and sent to jail. Who would have taken care of her mother? She shivered at the thought of her mother living in an assisted living home, or worse, a nursing home. No, she had to be more careful next time.
A minute later Josiah's vehicle pulled up in the parking lot. He ran inside, his eyes wide.
"Did I just see that lady who owns this place driving away?"
Tara nodded, still terrified despite the fact that the coast was now clear.
"You're shaking."
She glanced at her hands and saw that indeed, she was, but couldn't seem to stop. Even her stomach was trembling.
"Come here." Josiah didn't give her a chance to protest, but pulled her into a warm embrace and whispered in her ear, "Everything will be fine."
Closing her eyes, she allowed her body to relax in his arms. She was safe now. There was no reason to still be shaking. As she took several calming breaths, she realized he gently rubbed her back. She sighed and leaned into him.
The faint scent of sweat mixed with soap on his skin brought her back to the last summer they'd been together. He'd been so sad that last time they'd shared her bed. She could almost smell the fear on him, so she'd done her best to relax him the best way she knew how. With affection. She resisted the urge to press her lips against his neck by holding her breath.
A lazy, warm feeling rose in her chest and she slowly stepped away from him. His face was so close. She could grab him and kiss him so fast, he wouldn't have a chance to object.
She shook her head. No. That would be the worst thing she could do, even though everything in her wanted to forget about their past and plunge into the future.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" He touched her chin and leaned forward so he could see straight into her eyes.
"Like what?" She raised her brows and tried to look innocent.
"Like I'm a snake ready to strike your heel at any moment. What are you worried about?"
"I'm not... worried." She swallowed hard. "A bit scared, though. Of... you."
He offered a sumptuous smile that made her heart flutter.
"Scared of me? Why? I'm a preacher." He stroked his chin and stepped back another foot. "I've gotta behave. I'm carrying God's Word and sharing it with the good citizens of this town. It wouldn't be proper to be sinning on the side."
A giggle crept up her throat and she felt her cheeks heating. "You've always been such a good actor."
The color of his neck turned pink. She'd embarrassed him. Good.
"Remember that time I messed up my lines?" His voice sounded hoarse. "And you improvised to save my neck with that kiss, but the teacher got mad?"
Her pulse raced as she nodded. Oh, she'd never forget that day. She'd kissed him during the opening performance of Romeo and Juliet at a time when it wasn't written in the script. It was their first kiss and she'd initiated it. Probably because he'd been caught off guard by her kiss, he started really taking notice of her. Some days she regretted that impulsive move, but other days she reveled in the memory.
"I'm not acting, Tara."
She searched his eyes and tried to read his thoughts "I'm confused. What are you saying?"
He shrugged and glanced at the floor. They stood in silence for several seconds.
"I--"
"Almost forgot." Josiah reached into his back pocket and extracted a wad of cash. Mostly twenties and a few fives and tens.
"How did you get that much change?"
"Sometimes my mom sells crafts and stuff, so we keep it handy in case people need change. Remember that art show in Sierra Vista last month?"
"I'd seen it advertised but didn't go."
"Neither did I. But Mom did pretty well and had this tucked away. She didn't mind me using it to help out a friend."
"Tell her thanks for me." Tara shifted her feet. His scrutiny made her nervous. She glanced over at the clock. It was almost nine.
Josiah followed her gaze and asked, "Have you visited the cowboy church?"
She wondered where he intended to go with that question. "No. Why?"
He swallowed and avoided her gaze. "Just wondering. Well, I'll catch up with you in a couple of hours. I've gotta run."
Tara nodded. "Okay. I've got to meet with some ladies this morning. I'll see you in town." She reached for his arm as he started to turn around. "Thanks. For everything."
He tipped his hat like a cowboy from the old west. "No problem."
As she watched him leave, she thought about what he'd just said. Had he thought about inviting her to go to church with him? If he had asked, she would've said yes. But since he hadn't, she'd go to her ladies Sunday school class at the church on Fremont, and then to the service. Several of her friends dressed in costume on Sunday mornings so it wouldn't be weird for her to be dressed like a woman from the 1800s.
Sometimes she even turned a few heads when they had visitors. It always felt good to know she still had something about her that attracted men. Granted, most of the time when she caught attention she was dressed as a socialite, well, actually a spinster. But her dress was stunning and even women couldn't help staring.
But when she dressed like herself in a plain shirt and jeans? No one looked her way.
Not until Josiah had returned.
She smiled as she arranged the money in the cash register and set the lock. She turned and made sure everything was in place before she set the alarm and left the building. For now she'd just pray that Frieda didn't notice anything amiss when they reopened the shop on Tuesday morning. No harm, no foul, right? The money was secured and everything should return to normal.
But with Josiah back in town and in her life, she had a feeling that things would never be the same again. Part of her welcomed that, and the more sensible part wanted to avoid him at all costs. Good thing she wasn't all that sensible when it came to love.
*****
Josiah left the church ready to head for his skit. He glanced around but didn't see Tara anywhere. Crowds of spectators lined up along the boardwalk for the costume parade. He started to step down and search for her, but decided to begin his skit instead. No sense looking desperate if it wasn't in God's plan for the day.
If he was supposed find her that afternoon, he would. Didn't he just tell the Lord during communion that he would surrender his own desires, and allow God to lead wherever he was supposed to go from now on? If God wanted him to see Tara, He was capable of getting them together.
He turned and approached a group of tourists. "Do you know the Lord, sir?"
Just like what typically happens with street preachers, he received nervous glances from the people. Did they think he was allowed to preach for real? He wished he could. But that was against the rules. So he started again.
"Sir, do you know the Lord?"
The middle-aged man stopped and said, "Don't know Him and don't want to."
"But sir, do you want peace in your life?"
The man frowned. "What kind of question is that?"
Josiah grinned. "Do you want peace, or a peacemaker?" He flipped open the box and showed the spectators the gun inside, catching them off guard. No doubt they expected to find the Scriptures inside, since it had the words Holy Bible painted on the cover.
Piercing laughter erupted from the man and his friends. While it was funny, he didn't find it nearly as humorous as they did.
Wiping his eyes, the man said, "Oh, you really got me there, preacher. That was good. Real good." He grabbed a young woman who was walking up. "Hey, Jenny, check this out."
So Josiah played his part over and over for several more hours that day with an occasional improvisation used as needed. One you
ng man actually said, "Yes I do, praise the Lord," as he shook Josiah's hand. Josiah suddenly felt like a jerk.
The skit was cute, but the more he thought about what he'd come up with to use for his lines as he acted his part, the more it seemed sacrilegious. Maybe he could talk to the people in charge about changing his lines so it felt less awkward for him to perform them. No matter what they suggested, he planned to write something different for the next skit.
He turned, and nearly collided with Tara. "My word, but I've just bumped into an angel." He winked at Tara and removed his hat as he offered a gentlemanly bow.
The cowboy next to her, a guy named Chet that he's recently met when he'd signed up for the acting group, said, "Hey there, Miss Beasley. Looks like you got yourself a Holy admirer."
Cowboy Jimmy stood next to Chet and elbowed his friend. "Think maybe we can finally get Miss Beasley a husband? It's gotta be mighty lonely living as a spinster and taking care of nothin' but liberry books every day in this here scourge of a town."
"Got that right." Chet grinned and said as he elbowed him back, "The real thing is much better than an old dime novel, right you sly cowpoke? Or should I say slow cowpoke? If you weren't so pokey yerself, you'd find yerself a good woman to warm yer bed at night."
Cowboy Jimmy glanced over at a gorgeous blonde in a blue saloon girl outfit he'd met the previous weekend at orientation named Sammie. She was flirting with some tourists several feet from them. She glanced in their direction, but then frowned at Jimmy and quickly looked away.
"If'n my gal over there wasn't mad at me, I might git my wish tonight. Ever since I asked her to leave the oldest perfession and stick with me, she done give me the evil eye. Breaks my heart, it does."
"If'n you didn't gamble and drink your money away as soon as you git it, she might say yes, you ornery fool." Chet removed his hat and popped Jimmy upside the head, which sent the cowboy's hat crashing to the ground.
"Excuse me," the saloon girl announced as she strutted over toward the group. An awkward hush consumed the actors as everyone paused and stared at Jimmy's hat. She bent to pick it up and her breasts nearly fell out of her costume as she grabbed it and held the hat below her rather large chest like a prized possession. With a saucy smile, she said, "I do believe you lost your hat, cowboy."
The Lonely Lady Page 5