Of Yesterday
Authors: Alta Hensley
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic, #Western, #Westerns, #Romance
Of Yesterday
by
Alta Hensley
Table of Contents
Of Yesterday
ISBN-10-1612580645
ISBN-13978-1-61258-064-7
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Copyright © 2012 Alta Hensley
Cover art by Bret Poinier
No part of this book may be used or
reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission from
the publisher LazyDay, with the exception of quotes used in reviews and
critical articles.
Dedication
I dedicate this book
to all my fans. If it weren't for you, I would not be able to continue my dream
of writing. I am forever thankful for everyone I have met along the way of my
journey.
Taylor McKnight made her living, as small and pathetic as it
may be, convincing people she was a modern-day witch. She had grown a pretty decent
reputation and had a fairly large client base. It was not that she truly knew
any real witchcraft, she had just mastered the illusion. It was all image,
staging, make believe. But for the sake of her pocketbook…she created the
atmosphere of magic.
She took a match and lit several candles to help set the
mood. A puff of smoky aroma danced its way upward in small spirals. A fusion of
vanilla, cinnamon, and rose mixed with the already heavily-scented room. She
had learned that smell helped sales. If people liked the aroma, they would seek
to purchase the same scent for their homes.
Taylor looked around the store at all the people browsing
and decided it was time to work her so-called magic and try to make her
commission in sales. She ran her hand through the haphazard brown curls that
she allowed to cascade down her back, adjusted her cleavage in the tight-fitting,
leather bustier, and smoothed her ankle-length skirt. She definitely dressed
the part.
She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "If
there is anything I can help with, let me know." She knew it would only be
moments before she was surrounded by people who wanted to be "cured."
Taylor offered her clients her diagnosis, her witchy insight
and her advice as to what would fix all their problems. Whatever reason brought
them to her, Taylor tried her best to give them their money’s worth. She did
not see it as a con. She saw it as a way to give them hope and positive
thought. If it eased their fear, anxiety, and pain, then Taylor more than
fulfilled her job.
A frail woman was the first to approach. She quickly began
to spew her entire medical history before Taylor could even open her mouth.
Clients like these made her job easy. She would not have to be as vague or open
with her so-called supernatural powers. Getting this woman to buy any tea,
potion, or crystal of Taylor’s choosing would be a walk in the park. If she was
really good, she would manage the sale of all of the above.
As the woman continued to talk, Taylor could not help but
notice a man wearing a cowboy hat in the corner of the store. A quick glance
showed the curve of his lip lifted in amusement. Could he see through her
guise? She could have ignored him, but it was people like him that were bad for
business. He needed to be addressed.
She quickly guided the frail woman in the direction of the
most expensive herbs in her store and snapped her fingers, with her bracelets
jingling, to get her shop assistant’s attention to help close the deal. Her
assistant could handle this one blindfolded. Taylor had a skeptical cowboy to
deal with.
Gliding her way as seductively as she could, she made her
way to the man in the corner. He was fingering one of the glass balls with laughter
in his eyes. Without a word, Taylor lifted his rough-callused hand with hers.
The size and strength of his made her own seem elfish in comparison.
He seemed startled for a mere moment, his eyebrows
questioning. She had dealt with men and women like him before. She had found
that facing them head on usually caused them to back away and ultimately leave
the store. Her confidence was always too much to bear.
Releasing the cowboy’s hand, she acted as if she had been
burnt. "Oh…ahhhh…there is a fire within you." Keeping the drama was
crucial.
She swayed her hips and softly closed her eyes. "I can
feel the burn. I can almost taste the liquid heat that is melting your soul."
She almost giggled as the sentence left her mouth. Taylor knew she was laying
it on thick, but she needed to make this skeptical cowboy uncomfortable so he
would leave her store. She had clients anxiously waiting for her attention, and
money to be made. The last thing she needed was to have this man mess with the
mystical vibe she worked so hard to keep.
The cowboy snickered brashly enough to be heard by all. Taylor
opened her eyes and swallowed down the anger building inside. Damn, this was
not going to be as easy as she thought. She could see in the corner of her eyes
that customers were watching her every move. She could not let this arrogant
ass win.
She let out a soft moan. "The pain…the pain is in your
back." It was a good guess on her part, considering it was obvious he was
a working cowboy. The mud on his boots and the dust on his jeans were a real
giveaway.
"No. The pain is in my ass," his husky, abrupt
voice cut in.
Taylor tried not to let the hint of intimidation win over.
Six feet of rugged, tightly muscled man with dark wavy hair set against sun-kissed
skin was not going to do her in. Although his piercing blue eyes that looked
more dangerous than welcoming may just do so.
Her reputation was on the line. Taylor had no choice but to
continue on, "An old injury made worse by your daily living." She
could feel his gaze burning right through her. She had no choice to avoid eye
contact as a shiver worked its way through her. He was winning. "Being a cowboy…"
she paused to sneak a peek at his rigid jaw line.
He crossed his arms against his chest and took two steps
toward her. Closing any distance they had between them. "Lady, how much of
a fool do you take me for?" He looked around the store and laughed. "You’re
full of crap."
"What?" she gasped, throwing daggers with her
eyes.
A wave of fury coursed through Taylor's body as she stared
into the most unyielding pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen. He was winning, and
she had no choice but to turn her back on him and offer her assistance to her
other clients.
"Sweetheart, if you’re a witch, then I’m Jesus himself."
He followed her as she tried to escape his hostility. "What you are is a
liar. You manipulate your way into their wallets and cheat good people out of
their money." His voice was stern, but never once was he yelling.
Taylor fiddled with the ruby pendant around her neck. Her
hand shook as she tried to regain some composure. "Sir, I’m sure there is
a…saloon down the street that may be more your style." She smirked. "If
you don’t believe in witches, spells, and magic, why are you here?"
"Because I’m here to give you a warning." His
voice lowered. "You picked the wrong person to try to con, and I won’t let
you fool an innocent girl."
"What? Who is this girl I supposedly tried to con?"
she asked.
"My sister, Mandy Winters. She’s…naïve. You stay away, ya
hear?"
Stepping closer to him, she stood within inches of this sexy
yet infuriating man. Masculinity overpowered her senses, a crisp smell of pure
testosterone. "If I can remember correctly, your sister is a grown woman. I
will do, and say, whatever I choose. Ya hear?" She could not help but give
a contemptuous sneer.
"My sister is easily taken advantage of and I’ll not
allow someone like you to do it. This is the only time I’m going to tell you.
Leave my sister alone, or I’ll make sure your little fairytale shop is closed
down."
Taylor no longer noticed or cared about the patrons that
were staring in awkward silence. Any hope of rebounding from this day was
futile, but she was not going to let this man bully her.
"And how do you plan on doing that? I’ve committed no
crime. I have done nothing wrong. The only thing I’ve done is wasted my time
talking with you. So if you don’t mind, I would like you to leave my store.
Now," she demanded.
For the first time since meeting, his face softened. There
was a twinkle in his eye as he took a step closer. He reached his hand out and
slowly ran it down the length of her arm. His touch caused her long-denied body
to shudder. What was it about this man?
"Darlin’, I don’t take demands from a phony, a cheat,
and a…witch." He leaned in and softly whispered in her ear, "You
don’t want to mess with me. You may think you’re strong. But I’ll always be
stronger."
With one last glance of the store, he strolled out the door.
Leaving nothing behind other than the desire that lingered in Taylor’s body.
Jason Winters knew his sister believed everything anyone
said. Sheltered, gentle, and fragile ever since the death of their parents,
Mandy was Jason’s responsibility. She had never recovered after the boating
accident fifteen years ago. Repeated doctors had said that the trauma had been
too much for her. Her mind had shut down in such a way so that she could cope.
She lived in a self-created world with no hate, no fear, no sadness, and no
harsh reality. Mandy laughed, she played, and she lived life as if she were
still a child. Facing the world as an adult was too much, so Jason had no
choice but to face it for her.
As she heard Jason walk in, Mandy looked up from the velvet
poster she liked to spend hours coloring with her markers. Her tiny body seemed
dwarfed by the huge oak table she sat at. "Hi, brother!"
He sat down in the old, wooden chair across from her. He
smiled at her angelic appearance. Dressed in a white, summer dress with her
blond hair resting on her shoulders, she seemed so soft. As much as her mental
condition could frustrate him, he almost envied her pure joy in the simple
things. She was lost in reality and needed constant direction. But in all actuality,
it was Jason who truly needed Mandy. He would be lost without her kindness and
her unconditional love.
"What are you doing home so early?" Mandy asked as
she focused her attention back to her coloring.
"I went to that witch’s den."
Mandy’s head snapped up and her light blue eyes stared with
shock. "Did you see the…" Mandy looked around the room, leaned
forward on the table and whispered, "the witch?"
"Yes."
"She’s really pretty, huh? I thought all witches were
ugly."
"Pretty" was an understatement to describe that
woman. Even in her ridiculous costume, her curves made Jason’s mouth water. Her
curly hair made her appear sensual and seductive. Her perfect pouty lips just
screamed to be kissed. His loins throbbed as he remembered the way her green
eyes darkened with her anger. Her temper was undeniably sexy.
