by Alexis Lynne
Liz’s short blond curls shook when she laughed. “I am so glad you chose soap. I don’t know what it is about this age group, but it seems they all forget the importance of not stinking, bless them.”
“I’m glad I could help you out. If nothing else, the essential oils will mask the funk for a while.”
“I haven’t seen you around town much lately. Anything interesting going on?”
“Just working on producing enough pieces to sell during the busy season. I’ve been helping Lady in the shop quite a bit as well.”
“So no new man warding off the chilly October nights?”
Tara stopped arranging bottles and looked at her friend through slanted eyes. “Okay, what have you heard?”
“Nothing! I’m serious. I had not heard anything, but your reaction certainly has me curious.”
“There’s nothing to be curious about, unfortunately. I did have a date recently, but it didn’t work out.”
The fact that it made her sad annoyed the hell out of her. As she had predicted, her sisters had teased her mercilessly when she got home that night. Shelby refrained from calling her a fool for passing on a great guy for the sake of old hurts, but Tara could see the accusation in her eyes. Charlotte had, surprisingly, been more understanding.
“It’s not always easy to let go. Sometimes, whatever is blocking the road is just bigger than what’s on the other side.”
She was glad to have at least one person on her side. Brandon had texted an apology of sorts for letting her walk into the situation unaware, accompanied by another warning about her potential asshole-ness. It was only a matter of time before Lady joined the debate.
“That’s too bad. It’d be nice to see you with somebody.”
“What is it with you married people? You’re always wanting to see your friends get tied down, too.”
She smiled wryly. “Misery loves company? I don’t know but you’re right. I just don’t like the idea of anybody being lonely.”
“Why would you think I am lonely?”
Before Liz could answer, the bell rang, and the throng of students began lining inside from the playground. Tara moved behind the table and continued to set up her supplies as she watched the students come through the door. She remembered sixth grade too well. It was the year her parents divorced, and both split town soon after. She became a mouthy, moody annoyance, and if not for her grandmother’s attention, she would have likely traveled a different path.
A group of girls came in together, and Tara’s memories shifted to something far more pleasant—her sisters. Though these girls were all the same age, they had the same sweet mischievousness about them that she remembered sharing with her sisters. Just behind them was a small-framed girl with a look of longing that nearly broke Tara’s heart.
The girl was dressed in dark colors, contrasting against her pale skin and light blond hair. Her eyes were so dark they could have been black, giving her an otherworldliness that would drive the boys crazy in a few years. Now it just came across as awkward. Though the contrasting hair and eye color were reversed, Charlotte had that same type of look about her.
Her arms were crossed in front of her as she walked, and the stance went as well with her facial expression as her clothes did with her hair. Tara’s mouth formed a thin line as she went back to her task. Once everyone was seated, Liz introduced her, and she began giving oral instructions to go with the written ones Liz handed out.
“Two things you need to remember are that the soap base is hot, so please be careful. And also remember that with the essential oils you are using to scent your soaps, a little goes a long way. I’ve included some scent combinations on your instructions that you might want to use. The oils not only smell good but can also positively contribute to your moods. For instance, lavender is relaxing, and mint is rejuvenating.
“If you want to have the soaps for bathing, you should probably use the bigger molds, but if you prefer to use them to scent your drawers or closets, the smaller ones work well. We also have decorations you can add once your soap has hardened a bit. Dried flowers and citrus peels. There’s also small rubber ducks if you have younger siblings you’d like to give the soap to. Any questions?”
The kids all looked a little dazed, and she wondered if she had gone too fast. She wasn’t a natural-born teacher, though she did enjoy helping Liz with these projects. She had talked too much, she realized. Hands on was always best with kids and art.
“Why don’t you come up a few at a time to smell the different oils and get an idea of what you might like to use.”
Liz smiled in approval. “Good idea, Miss Tara. Let’s have the first row, please. And do be careful not to spill.”
Five at a time, the students came up, some enthusiastic, others not so much. She tried to teach the kids about scent and color combinations but could not tell if they were listening. How did Liz do this day in and day out?
“This age group rarely shows excitement about anything. It wouldn’t be cool,” Liz whispered to her as the last group lined up at the table. Tara saw the blond girl smelling the lavender with a grimace. Everyone around her was talking and giggling, but she held herself off to the side. As if anyone with her uniqueness could ever be invisible. Tara decided to dive in and talk to her.
“Do you have a question about something?”
“Um, yeah. You said lavender was relaxing. Is there anything that can do that but smells…more for a guy?”
“What’s your name?”
“Marley.”
“Marley, try this one. It’s bergamot. Not very exciting on its own, but it smells nice with sandalwood. Both can help with anxiety.”
The girl nodded and gave a small smile before moving down to look over the decorations. Tara thought she saw a playful gleam in her eyes as she looked at the rubber ducks, but it disappeared quickly as she turned to go back to her seat.
Tara’s eyes roamed over the class, taking in some familiar faces, even if all she recognized were particular traits that were strong in the families she knew. The jet-black hair and green eyes that were common to all of Charlotte’s mother’s family were featured in the boy in the front row. There were kids whose parents she had known in high school, like Molly Taylor. Her parents were ahead of her, but she knew them through Shelby.
Tara realized she knew of most of these kids, but not Marley, though she did somehow look familiar. Once the soaps were mixed and poured, she had the students place their projects on the old radiator under the window and clean up any mess they had made. She used the opportunity to quietly ask Liz about the girl.
“I don’t recognize Marley from anywhere in town.”
“You wouldn’t. She just moved here from New York. Her mother died earlier in the year, poor thing, and her brother is now her legal guardian.”
Tara’s skin prickled. Justin had not said he was raising his sister. Perhaps he implied it, but she was too busy lusting after him to notice.
“She seems sweet.”
“Mmm-hmm. And rather shy. I’ve tried to encourage her and Molly to talk, but so far, neither of them have bitten.”
Molly’s stepfather had died earlier in the year as well. His cancer had come on fast and hard, and he was gone within months. Molly’s dad still lived in town, but her stepdad had been in her life since she was five.
Tara could not help but wonder about the girl. Perhaps it was just knowing she was Justin’s sister that had her curious, but she didn’t think so.
Soon, the bell was ringing to signal the end of the day. The soaps would need to set for several days, but then they could unmold them and take them home. She told Liz as much as she stacked up the things on her desk.
“I’m sorry to leave you to pack up by yourself, but I have carline duty. You probably want to wait until all that is over before you carry your things out to the parking lot. Give it twenty minutes or so, and then all that will be out there are teachers and parents waiting for their kids to get out of band.”
> Tara hugged her friend once more before Liz hurried from the room with a walkie-talkie in her hand. After she packed everything back into the box, she walked over to where the kids had placed their molds. Most of them were silicone and would release easily, but Tara decided to ask Liz if she could come back to help unmold and package the soaps in case there were any difficulties.
She leaned in to smell a few. Liz was right. In spite of her efforts to monitor the oils, some of the students had indeed been generous while pouring. Thankfully for Liz, the windows could open. She looked at one set of molds in various star patterns, the ones she had seen Marley use. Had she made these for her brother? She breathed in and could clearly pick up the scents Marley had used. Just how much did the man need to relax? He had not seemed overly anxious during their lunch, but she supposed he could just be good at hiding it.
The thought that he was keeping things to himself was far more comforting to her than the idea that he had been so comfortable with her that he spoke of his family issues and made her feel that nothing was more important in those moments than her.
She abruptly turned from the soaps to gather her box and head out the door, fiercely determined not to think about the man another minute, except to continue to hate him for stealing her future. That determination lasted all of two minutes. As she walked through the doors to the parking lot, she saw him leaning against an expensive foreign car, looking lean and gorgeous as the wind caught the waves of his hair. Marley’s hair was a few shades lighter and her eyes a different color, but the resemblance between them was easy to see. He caught sight of her and smiled before lifting himself off the car and heading her way.
“Let me help you with that.”
“I don’t need—” Her protest died as he took the box from her arms and looked down on her with an eager expression, like a puppy seeking approval. She resisted the urge to pet him and, instead, pulled her keys from her pocket.
“Thank you.”
“Do you work here, too?”
“No, I volunteer in my friend’s classroom a few times a year.” She didn’t offer anything further as she opened the trunk of her much older domestic clunker.
“Listen, Brandon told me about the farm, that it had been in your family and you had wanted to buy it.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked nervous enough now. Perhaps she should pull out the bergamot. “I knew there was another offer on the table. I’m sorry you were hurt by the deal.”
Tara closed the trunk. Hard. “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”
“It does matter because you despise me for it. Do I have to be the bad guy? Can’t I just be the man you got to know in the backroom of your aunt’s store. The one who thinks you are beautiful and fascinating and really wants to spend more time with you.”
He had taken her hand at some point, and his thumb, gently rubbing against her palm, sent jolts straight to her stomach. She pulled back in an effort to concentrate on her anger rather than the plea she saw in his eyes.
She nodded to his car and leveled as much of a glare as she could manage. “You’re also a man who throws money around to get what he wants, regardless of who might be hurt by it. I’ve had enough of that in my life.” She turned to open her door and got in, looking back up to him as she started the car. “Besides, you have enough on your plate. You have a farm to renovate.”
He also had a sister who looked as lost as a lamb without its mother. Marley’s eyes showed the same bewilderment when she asked about the scents as Justin’s had when he bought the bracelet. Even through her anger, Tara had a helpless curiosity as to why.
Chapter Eight
After dinner, Marley disappeared to her room, and Justin sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cooling cup of coffee and replaying his interactions with Tara over and over in his head, preferring to concentrate on their lively conversation the day they met rather than their encounter earlier that day. He told himself for the hundredth time that he was being ridiculous. He barely knew her. Still, disappointment curled through him.
It wasn’t only physical, though there was a good deal of lust present in his musings. She was beautiful, sexy, the kind of woman who walked into the room and you could immediately hear the Commodores playing in your head. Her appeal was so much more than that, though. His cousin Josh had teased him about mountain women, that they’d be all resilience and little grace. From what he saw, Tara had plenty of each along with a humor and warmth that made him want to laze in her presence, like a cat stretched out by a warm fire.
Justin rolled his eyes and rose to put his mug in the sink. Anyone reading his thoughts would think he wasn’t a grown man but some silly teenage boy pining for his first love. He had enough to think about without obsessing over a woman who was determined to hate him. Like the sister who was determined to hate him, or at least dislike him enough to flee from his presence as much as possible. It annoyed him almost as much as it frightened him.
Defiantly, he yanked a permission slip off the fridge and sat down to fill it out. Marley’s class was going to Green Energy Park the next week, and they needed chaperones. Though she was likely to shoot him the stink eye the entire time, he would take her and as many classmates as he could fit in his car. This wall between them had to come down somehow, and more time together could only help expedite it.
Just after he signed the bottom of the form, a ping sounded from his phone, alerting him to a text. He rose again to retrieve his phone from the counter and smiled when he saw it was from Ann.
“I assume that if you’ve been kidnapped by banjo-wielding mountain folk to be used to provide additional DNA, I would have heard about it on the news. Since I haven’t, you must be alive and well???”
Justin shook his head and hit call. Such willful ignorance deserved a conversation.
“Hello.”
“You of all people should know better than to perpetuate such stereotypes.”
Ann laughed, and Justin felt his spirits somewhat lift.
“I’m sorry. Are the inbred now on the list of things we can’t tease about? Society will soon crumble if we can’t make fun of the world we live in.”
“And you believe I live among the inbred.”
She laughed again. “Josh was over for dinner tonight, and we talked so much about you behind your back that I thought you deserved a little of it to your face, er, over the phone.”
“I appreciate you keeping me in the loop, Annie. How are you feeling?”
She groaned. “This baby has no idea that morning sickness is supposed to be confined to mornings. I can’t seem to go two hours without feeling the need to hurl. My doctor says I shouldn’t let my stomach get empty. Garret calls about fifty times a day to tell me to get an apple.”
“Why does that annoy you?”
She sighed and was quiet for a moment as if trying to find the right words. “Okay, you are probably the only person in the world I can say this to without sounding like a complete bitch. He’s driving me crazy, Justin. He is treating me like the most fragile thing in the world, and you know how I hate that. When did my Gucci-wearing husband turn into an alpha male hell bent on protecting what is his?”
“Maybe this is just the first time you’ve let him protect you. You are so used to fighting for yourself that you don’t always know when to accept help.”
“You know that for me, help often comes with tags like ‘pity’ or ‘admiration.’ It’s just easier not to deal with it.”
“And has Garret ever once treated you like that?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t have married him if he did. I’m just saying I’m not in the habit of needing a protector. I don’t think I need one now, but he is determined not to see me upset, and nothing upsets me like my mother. He could tolerate her before, but they argue all the time now. Justin, I think she’s sneakily trying to move in here. She keeps leaving random things behind when she visits—everyday. Scarves, her special anti-aging shake powders. I even found a toothbrush that did
n’t belong in the guest bath.”
Justin could not help but laugh. He could see his aunt doing exactly that. She had never accepted Ann’s independence, preferring to think of her as a delicate thing that needed constant supervision. It sounded as if she and Garret were fighting for the role of supervisor.
“I don’t envy you, Annie, though I do have my hands full with Miss Silence.”
“She’s still not talking much, huh?”
“No, but I did see her laugh today. It wasn’t with me, but at least it did happen.” They had been painting the attic when a drop of paint landed in Marley’s hair. Brandon told her not to worry about it, that it wouldn’t show up in her white hair anyway. Marley laughed then. At Brandon.
“And she’s taken a real interest in the house. I can’t get out of her if she’s made friends, but her teacher says she’s always polite, if not talkative, and that it will happen eventually.”
“What does her new counselor say?”
“That Marley is progressing at her own pace.”
“Hmm. Are you getting impatient?”
“No! No, Marley can take all the times she needs as long as she is getting better.”
“What about you? Are you making friends?”
“Yeah, sort of. The guy helping me with the house is…interesting. And, uh, there’s this—” He sighed. “—girl.”
He heard Ann’s quick intake of breath and immediately regretted saying anything.
“I apologize for not supporting your move. You’ve barely settled in, and you’ve met a girl! Tell me all about her.”
“Don’t get too excited, Annie. Right now, it’s all one sided.”
“What? How could that be? You’re the nice guy. The one every girl wants to marry. You’re Henry Tilney bought to life for heaven’s sake.”
He had no idea who that was, but he knew that if his cousin wanted to insult him, she wouldn’t be so vague.
“Doesn’t do me much good when in her eyes I’m the villain. Hell, Annie, she’s got cause.”
“You can’t have messed things up already. You’re not as smooth as Josh, but you’re no heel either.”