Stranger in the Mirror [Shades of Heaven] (Soul Change Novel)

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Stranger in the Mirror [Shades of Heaven] (Soul Change Novel) Page 12

by Tina Wainscott


  “Well?” Jesse said.

  “Then we can leave? You promise?”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  She grimaced but stood anyway. He took her hand and led her toward the dreaded square. At his request, a slow song started, and he walked her out to the far edge. The square quickly filled with couples, making her feel less self-conscious. And more conscious of being in Jesse’s arms again.

  He still wore the black cowboy hat, which casted a shadow across his cheeks and nose. A cowboy fetish indeed. The hat made him seem taller and gave him a sort of refined roughness. His collar points, tipped in silver, caught the light as they swayed to the rhythm. And those boots made him taller yet. She stared down, watching them move in rhythm.

  The singer likened his love to Reno, Nevada, cold, heartless, and playing with his affections. Some men may have perceived Hallie of the past that way. She’d held the deepest, most vulnerably part of herself back.

  She pictured the scene earlier in Jesse’s living room, him moving close, her stepping away. Might he think she was still like that? No, that was uneasiness. Just like the hot flash at Helen’s house, she could explain that away, too. She’d think of something, if she gave it a minute.

  Jesse lifted her chin so she was looking up to him. His soft smile was more subtle than earlier.

  “You don’t have to watch our feet,” he said. “You’re doing fine.”

  She realized then that she had been staring at his boots while lost in thought. Better to let him think she was unsure of her footing than her heart. He tucked her hair behind her ears. The flower was smashed in the grass where she’d fallen off the bench.

  “Why do you keep tucking my hair behind my ears?” she asked, loosening it again.

  He shrugged. “Just seems like it should be.”

  “Did you do that with”—she glanced around—“the other Marti?” She wasn’t even sure why she wanted to know.

  “No. It was different with her.”

  “How?” She wanted to pull back the question.

  He tucked her hair again. “Well, for one thing, there’s something different about your eyes. I don’t see neediness there, but there’s still a wanting. Like you’re searching for something, but you don’t know what it is.”

  She glanced away, wondering how he could see something she didn’t even know was there. But she was searching, for a new life. A new identity.

  “I’m not looking for love, I know that.” It sounded hollow, but she believed in those words more than anything else.

  Warmth burned in his green eyes as he let go of her hand and trailed his finger up the length of her throat to rest under her chin. “It’ll find you someday, you just wait.” But not with me.

  Marti could hear the unspoken addition as clearly as if he had spoken them aloud. She searched for words to respond but couldn’t get past the disappointment. Why was she feeling that way, silly fool?

  “The song’s over,” she said, finding it hard to swallow with his finger still touching her.

  His hand slipped from her waist and took hold of her hand as he walked off the dance area. They wound around others who were line dancing to the jaunty tune.

  Oh, God, we’ve been slow dancing through part of a fast song. With half the town watching. They’ll think.... The words dropped down on her head. They’ll think you’re in love, too distracted to realize the slow dance was over. She shook her head, ignoring Jesse’s glance at her movement.

  Jesse pulled her around to various groups to say goodbye, then to thank Harry for his hospitality, burping, and boob cubes excepted. Good humor replaced the speculation at her earlier outburst. Hopefully they thought she was drunk. Or just stupid. Hopefully they didn’t think she was in love with her husband.

  Bumpus, like a child having fun, was reluctant to leave his canine pals. Still, when Jesse gave the word, he tromped over to them. All three walked down the drive in silence, except for Bumpus’s occasional slurping noises. When they reached the truck, she armed herself with the paper towels before she got in next to Jesse. With a tiny groan, the dog twirled around and settled down on the seat, nestling his head on her thigh.

  Jesse tilted his head at the cozy scene. “I don’t understand it, but that dog sure does like you.”

  She crossed her arms, careful not to disturb Bumpus. “What’s not to understand?” A warm feeling curled inside her as she looked at the dog, already half asleep.

  He shook his head as he put the truck into gear and pulled onto the dirt road. “You’re ornery, snobby, and you can’t cook worth a damn. I’m gonna have a talk with that dog. Maybe he can enlighten me.”

  She shot him a look then rested her hand on the dog’s head, feeling a sudden kinship with him. After all, it was safer to be around the dog anymore than it was to be with Jesse James West, the outlaw cowboy.

  Florida’s weather at least had the decency to get nippy two days before Christmas. When Marti thought the diner might be slower, it got busier. All the usual patrons came in with visiting relatives and introduced them to Caty and Marti like they were family, too. Even her own family hadn’t been that friendly.

  Tinsel and garland draped all over the walls enhanced the warm, country theme inside the diner. Chuck didn’t much want to perpetuate the Santa Claus myth, being much more religious than he let on. A manger with Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus sat in the corner, displacing one of the tables. Chuck’s usual sullen expression had lifted some; maybe he thought he was safe from her memory of the attack...if he had something to worry about. She hated thinking that way, but the fear lingered at the back of her mind.

  Ten minutes after closing time, Jesse knocked on the glass door. Marti felt greasy and shabby and didn’t want to see him until she’d washed up. She caught herself starting to smooth her hair back and stopped. It was just vanity, not any special desire to impress Jesse.

  She’d forgotten how cool it was outside. And overcast. Puffs of fog appeared when Jesse talked. He looked like a boy anxiously awaiting Santa’s visit.

  “Let’s go Christmas tree shopping, doll.”

  She glanced at Caty. “I can’t. Caty and I are going Christmas shopping when we’re done. I’m going to shower and change at your mom’s on the way to Ft. Myers.” When his smile disappeared, she added, “We can go later tonight.”

  His smile revived. “Caty, want to come along? You and Mom need a tree, too.”

  “Nah, she wants to put up that fake thing again. You know, she complains about the needles and everything.”

  His eyes lit with mischief. “We’ll get her one anyway.” He looked at Marti, still standing in front of him. “See you at home then.” He clicked his tongue and winked, then walked back outside and jumped into his truck.

  “He’s like a little boy,” Marti said with a smile.

  “This year, he is.”

  Marti ignored Caty’s wistful smile.

  Marti didn’t get home until six. She sneaked into the house with her packages and put them in the closet. She was enjoying Christmas more than usual, too. Family celebrations were something she could become accustomed to, although she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Still, she’d remember these days with a fondness that was lacking in her past holiday memories.

  “What’d you get, what’d you get?” Jesse whispered from the other side of the door.

  “Don’t you dare come in here!” she said, shoving the closet door shut.

  “Does that mean there’s something in there for me?”

  She threw a shoe at the door. “Only coal.”

  He was standing at the front door when she emerged. Wearing a white T-shirt and black jeans, his expression radiated joy. She couldn’t help but smile. Jamie had enjoyed Christmas, but not as enthusiastically as Jesse seemed to. Maybe that had been because of her, she thought with dismay. Hopefully he was having a wonderful Christmas with his new wife.

  “Hey, hey, what’s the frown for?”

  She pushed Jamie from her memory. “Nothing. I’m ready.�
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  “Good.” He took her hand but blocked the front door when they reached it. “Close your eyes.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”

  “Come on, trust me.”

  “Humph.”

  When she started to close them, she felt him move up behind her and clamp his palms over her eyes. He guided her out the front door and into the crisp air tinged with the smell of chimney smoke. Christmas music wafted over from the vicinity of his truck. He turned her around, and she thought she faced the house again.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Still, he waited, pressed up behind her with his hands firmly planted over her eyes.

  “What are we waiting for?”

  “I don’t know. I kind of like standing here like this.”

  She nudged him, and he removed his hands. The house twinkled every color of the rainbow, vivid against the night air. The lights on the roof spelled out, “Merry Christmas!” The bushes were sprinkled with tinsel, which sparkled as Bumpus rustled through them. A big plastic angel poised above the front door, holding a star in her hands. Marti caught her breath, taken in by the magic of the lights.

  “Oh, Jesse, it’s beautiful! Like a fairytale.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Just for you.”

  She turned, suddenly finding it hard to breath. “Don’t say that. You do this every year.”

  The boyishness of earlier was gone, replaced by a masculine softness. “No, I don’t. I wanted to make this a special Christmas for you. I wanted to give you a good memory to think about next year.”

  She swallowed, feeling overcome by a barrage of emotions. At the moment, with the music and warmth welling up inside her, she couldn’t dredge up a foul, underhanded reason for his doing all this. He wasn’t tryingto get her to stay.

  Her voice nearly failed her. “I won’t forget you.”

  The lights twinkled in his eyes as they mesmerized her.

  He brushed her chin, then tucked her hair behind her ears. “Let’s get our tree, doll.”

  They stopped at the first lot filled with Christmas trees. There were still plenty to choose from under the yellow-and-white striped tent surrounded by bare light bulbs. Jolly music filtered through the air as they searched for the two most perfect trees left. The ones in the front were either crooked or had massive bare spots.

  “There’re more out back,” the young salesman told them. “It’s kinda dark back there, so watch for holes where the trees have been.”

  Beyond the last line of trees, the empty lot continued before turning into woods. The music was only faint, and she felt lost in a magical forest. One of the trees moved, and before she could mention it to Jesse, a man jumped out and threw a rope of some kind over Jesse’s head, pulling him back. A hand clamped over her mouth and a familiar voice whispered, “Don’t say a word, or your husband gets it worse.”

  Paul suddenly stepped out of the darkness to stand in front of Jesse, who was whipping his fists wildly at the man holding him from behind. Since the man, who she realized was Skip, was shorter, he had Jesse bent backward at an awkward angle. Paul slammed a fist into Jesse’s stomach, and he groaned before kicking. His foot connected with Paul’s knee, making him groan in pain. With more anger than before, Paul kicked Jesse in the gut, dropping him to his knees. Marti struggled, but Josh pinched her hands tighter behind her back.

  “Stop! Stop hurting him!” She felt every punch, every kick Jesse suffered.

  “I’m tired of you trying to pin Marti’s assault on me,” Paul growled. “Mack told me you were checking out my tee times at the golf course. People are starting to wonder what you’ve got on me, and you got nothing. I was at the course when she was attacked.”

  Paul slugged Jesse in his face. Marti bit Josh’s hand. He let go with a curse, and she spun away and screamed.

  Skip dropped Jesse, and both he and Josh tore off into the dark. Paul took a step back, looking down at Jesse. “Leave it alone. Consider this your final warning.” With that he was gone, seconds before the tree salesman came rushing over.

  She ran to Jesse, who was getting to his feet between violent coughing spasms. When she saw that he was going to chase after them, she pulled his arm back.

  “Jesse, no! There are three of them, and one of you. That didn’t work well the first time.”

  “Geez, are you two all right?” The young man’s face contorted with shock. “I know it’s dark back here, but I never figured it’d be dangerous criminally. Tell you what, I’ll let you have whatever tree you want, for your trouble. No charge.”

  Jesse started to say something, but she interrupted. “Thank you, that’s awfully nice. We’ll take this one here, and we also want that one, for his mother. She’s going to be so upset when she hears about this.” She added in a whisper, “She’s very fragile these days.”

  The salesman watched with growing concern. “Aw, you can have that one, too. I don’t want his mama bent out of shape. It is Christmas.”

  When the trees were loaded into the back of the truck, and the salesman had apologized for the fifteenth time and left, Marti reached up and dabbed at Jesse’s lip with a paper towel.

  He flinched. “You gonna swab me like you do Bumpus?”

  “Stop moving. You’re bleeding all over.”

  “Sons-of-bitches ambushed me. What kind of slime ambushes a guy when he’s Christmas tree shopping?”

  The true amazement in his expression made her laugh before she had the sense to bite her lip. “So you’ve been doing some snooping, huh?” She remembered Josh’s remarks at Harry’s but decided not to share them with Jesse right then. “Do you think he really did it?”

  “I—ouch. I don’t know. He left work at noon. Apparently he called the course and arranged a tee time of twelve-thirty. Nolen said he found you at around one o’clock, and....” He stared into the distance for a second before looking back at her. “Marti was already dead. But she hadn’t been dead for long, so that means the assault happened just before one. Paul checked in at twelve-twenty, but Mack didn’t see Paul and those two boneheads start the first hole until about twelve-forty-five. That leaves Paul twenty minutes to drive down the road and find poor Marti stuck. It doesn’t exactly prove he’s the murderer, but it doesn’t clear him either. Apparently that dumb-ass Mack mentioned my inquiries to Paul, who had to get his buddies to help him out.” Jesse placed his palm on his flat stomach and grimaced.

  “Are you all right? God, I was so scared.”

  His expression was dark. “So was I. For you.” He took her face in his hand. “Marti, I wouldn’t have let them hurt you. I can take my punches, but if they’d tried to hurt you, they would have been dead.”

  “I know,” she whispered. Somehow, she did, and she knew how important it was for him to protect his own.

  “I’ve got to find out who did this to you. To Marti. I don’t want them to hurt you again.”

  “How can you hide your anger and determination so well? Like with the racing. And that Sunday when I told you about the indent and Paul’s pendant; you just went about the rest of the day like normal, then you confronted Paul.”

  He looked off into the distance again. “When my pa died, I wanted to scream and yell and never stop crying. He was everything to me, my whole world. Billy withdrew, and Mom had so much to deal with, I couldn’t dump her with that burden, too. So I put it aside until after the funeral, when I could deal with it alone. I do it when I have to.”

  She put her hand on his arm. “Please don’t get crazy. I know you’re mad, but remember, he might be a killer.” She smiled, trying to make light of what she was about to say. “What would I do without you? I can’t have this baby alone. He needs a father.”

  And a mother.

  She pushed that errant thought away.

  He turned and started the truck. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.” Then he laughed. “My ‘fragile’ mother?”

 
She shrugged. “Got us another tree, didn’t it?”

  “You are one clever girl, you know that?”

  She couldn’t help but beam at his compliment.

  They dropped one of the trees off at Helen’s. She was more annoyed at Jesse’s bloody lip than she was at having the live tree forced on her. When Jesse and Marti pulled back into their drive, her heart tightened at the lights. Caty had confirmed what Marti didn’t want to know: Jesse had never decorated his house full tilt before. Just a paper Santa on the door and a few strings of lights. She bit her lip. How could his decorating touch her more than a long-ago gift of a red Porsche? He was so sweet.

  Damn him.

  CHAPTER 9

  During the entire Christmas Eve day, Marti was surrounded by a flurry of activity. First work, where Chuck gave them fifty-dollar bonuses and let them go home early. He’d actually smiled.

  After cleaning up, Jesse locked himself in his bedroom while he wrapped packages. Dressed in a red and black flannel shirt, he looked like a misplaced lumberjack. Handsome, but misplaced.

  “I won’t tell Caty what you got her,” she’d teased.

  He had pinched her chin. “But you’ll tell Marti what I got her, so scoot.”

  She had turned crimson, realizing for the first time that Jesse had actually bought her something for Christmas. It was the perfect time to wrap her own presents, and she scrounged up a pair of children’s scissors with green plastic handles and some tape. For once, the country music took a backseat to traditional Christmas music by Bing Crosby and Johnny Mathis. It filled the house with the sweet warmth of anticipation.

  All those empty Christmases with her mother slipped away with every song, with every package she wrapped in red and gold foil. This year she would spend the most special day of the year with a real family. As Jesse had said, she would treasure the memory when she was alone in California. She shook her head, flinging the lonely thought from her mind.

  Marti saved Jesse’s presents for last. They were more expensive than the other gifts put together, but it would be worth it to see his face when he opened the box and pulled out the gray ostrich-skin boots. The other box contained a gray cowboy hat with a matching ostrich band. She’d known the moment she saw them in the window that Jesse must have them.

 

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