Time Tantrums (10 page)

“Well, you certainly are a good cook.” She wiped the edges of her mouth with her napkin and took another bite.

“So are you... or you used to
be.
”

Taylor wiped a gravy drip from her chin and burst into laugher. “There’s even more proof I’m not who you think I am. I can burn water.”

The silence deafened her.
 
She glanced around. “Where are the children?”

“I had my foreman take them to my mother’s house this morning. I figured it would be a little easier for everyone if
the they
spent a few days away.”

Her mouth turned to cotton. “Frank, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to run the kids away from their own home.”

“Kids?
 
Oh, you mean the younguns."
 
He blinked away his confused look. "It’s not your fault. Hell, I don’t even know whose it is. Let me tell you, I’ve played this over in my head a thousand times since you woke up. I’ve tried being mad at Jacob for having to pee. I’ve tried being mad at the rattlesnakes. And I’ve definitely been mad at you a few times.”

Taylor chuckled. “I can imagine. David says I’m not the easiest person to live with.”

A lump formed in her throat. Mentioning her husband reminded her how much she missed him.

Frank took the last sip of his coffee and stood. “How about I get the buggy and pick you up out front? I had Lloyd bring it back when he dropped off the…
kids
.”

She pushed her melancholy thoughts aside. “You’ve got a deal.”

He flashed a boyish grin and removed his cowboy hat from the rack next to the back door. Placing his hat at a jaunty angle, he stepped onto the porch. Taylor scurried to the counter with her dirty plate and peered out the window. Frank paused for a moment, unbuckled his belt and tucked his denim shirt in more snugly. She released a long, slow breath.

 
As if sensing she watched, he turned around and caught her gaze. She lowered her eyes and backed away from the window, too late to avoid his subtle smile and the flush creeping up her neck. Why did she feel like a child caught opening a Christmas package?

Unable to resist another peek, she waited a moment then leaned her head over just enough to see out. Frank ambled across the yard and into the barn. Damn, he was a good-looking man; there was no doubt about that. His blue jeans hugged an ass tight enough to bounce a quarter off, and shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows gave him a rugged look. With the black hat as a finishing touch, she considered him very, very sexy.

 
“Girl, you have a husband at home,” she chastised herself. “Stop slobbering over someone else’s man. You’re thinking thoughts you ought
not
be thinking, Taylor Morgan.”

She turned somber again.

 
Did she really have a husband at home, or was she making up a whole other life?

* * * *

Taylor inspected the quaint little carriage. “So, this is the buggy we’re riding in,” she said with trepidation.

“Yep.”
 
He leapt down and came around to her side.

“And… this is your horse!” She cautiously approached the animal and stood close until its eerie stare made her shiver. “I don’t think he likes me. He’s looking at me like I’m dinner.”

Frank’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he threw his head back and laughed. “Don’t worry
,
 
ol’
Gert wouldn’t hurt a fly.
She’s
the best trotter I’ve got.”

Taylor stared at the yellow, spoked wheels. “What’s the difference between a buggy and a wagon?”

“A wagon is much sturdier.”
 
He patted Gert’s muzzle. “The wagon would have been my first choice for the rough ground around the ranch, but I haven’t gotten it fixed since…”
 
His voice faded into a whisper until he cleared his throat. “I should have replaced the wagon wheel by now, but I’ve been distracted by other things.”

“I wouldn’t be one of those other things, would I?” she cooed, holding her head in a coquettish tilt.

Chapter Twelve

With the nurse following, David wheeled Mariah into the hallway. She held steadfast to the arms of the chair and glanced down the long corridor stretching in front of her. The ceiling lights reflected in the highly polished floors and sparkled like a nighttime sky. As David pushed her along, she peeked inside each open door. She wanted to ask questions, but the answers to previous ones only made her more confused.

David maneuvered her chair around the corner, toward two large doors. He stopped in front and pushed a button on the wall. She sat silently, wondering what would happen. When nothing did, she glanced up at him. “What’s the button for?”

“The elevator.”
He responded like she should know.

“Elevator?”

 
“Yes!” The annoyance in his voice smacked her like a slap in the face. “It carries people from floor to floor—we’re going down.”

Although puzzled by his attitude, she was more interested in this new-fangled lift. How did someone get carried from floor to floor by it?

The massive doors slid open to reveal a strange little room. Without a word, David turned the wheeled chair around and, tugging at its resistance to a raised threshold, bumped her up, over, and inside. After the nurse entered, he pushed another button, and the doors came together and sealed them inside. The metal prison sucked every bit of air from Mariah’s chest. She panted in quick gasps, detesting the feeling of confinement in such a small area. David seemed unaffected and obviously didn’t notice her state of panic.

 
She struggled to regain control of her breathing and composed herself. The movement stopped with a thud, but her stomach didn’t. She swallowed the bitter taste of bile and took a deep breath when the doors opened. No longer afraid of using up all the air inside the cramped quarters, she exhaled and willed her body to relax.

When she focused beyond the doors, Mariah gaped in awe. Before her was not the long corridor, but a large, open, airy room busy with people. David pushed her out into their midst and she tightened her grip on the armrests of her chair. Small and unobtrusive, she sat while people passed all around her. Her head whipped from side-to-side, taking in the wonder of the different styles of dress, hair, and skin color.

Her eyes fixed on one certain woman. She wore something very similar to the scant piece of material the nurse had provided as clothing. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

 
"Oh my goodness
.
That
was
the bottom part,” she whispered, aghast at so much exposed skin.

Mariah’s gaze dropped to the shoes the woman wore.

 
Father in heaven, she thought. How did someone walk on
toothpicks.

 
She vaguely heard David say something about leaving the wheeled chair at the front desk, and looked up only long enough to wave as the nurse walked away. Her attention snapped right back to the amazing sights.

Beyond the crowd, Mariah noticed another bustling world of people outside huge windows. Her heart raced as so many of the colorful vehicles David called ‘cars,’ whizzed by. They looked quite different from this angle--moved by themselves, without horses or mules.

 
She looked up at David and put her hand to her bosom. “Do we have a car?”
 

“Yes, we do. We had two before your accident. The Lexus was totaled, but thank goodness we have good insurance.”

“Lexus?
Insurance?
He might as well speak in gibberish.

He clenched and unclenched his lips. “I keep forgetting you don’t remember things. Lexus is the kind of car you had. Don’t you recall? You loved driving it so much.”

Mariah lowered her head. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t have any recollections of a car. I can tell by the tone in your voice you’re tired of me asking so many questions, but try to imagine what it feels like to be in my place. I don’t remember
any
of this and it scares me to death.”

“I’m so sorry. I should be more considerate.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I want so badly for you to remember."
 
His fingers clamped into her skin as his remorseful tone turned urgent. "I want you back the way you were.”

She understood his distress, but had no idea of his meaning. She’d always been Mariah and she liked herself… but in the place and time she remembered.

 
Her life couldn't be only a dream. Every part of it was etched in her memory--Frank, the kids, the ranch—how could she make it all up?

She looked at David through teary eyes. “I’m trying. That’s all I can say for now. I’m trying. Please be patient a little longer.”

He bent and brushed her lips with his. “I know you
are .
I am, too. We have to give it more time.”

Startled by his spontaneous kiss, Mariah pressed back in the chair. Before he attempted another, she turned her head and stared out the window.

Kisses?
 
Definitely not, but time?
 
She could give him that.
 
In fact, time was about the only thing she had left.

He steered her chair to a counter and stopped. She glanced up at him. “What now?”

“You sit tight and I’ll go get the car.” He pulled keys from his pocket. “I’ll park in the loading zone and come get you.”

At the thought of being left alone amidst strangers and riding in a strange conveyance to who knew where, Mariah’s heart rate quickened. “I’ll be right here,”
 
 
she responded with a bravery she didn't feel. Besides, where
else
 
could
she go?

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth,
worrying
 
about
what was yet to come.

* * * *

David wheeled her outside into the brightness. Despite the sun peeking through the tall buildings, the air felt crisp and cool. David's narration got lost in the loud din of the city—a city of which she’d never seen the likes.

 
He pushed the wheelchair toward a shiny, black
car
, and after pushing the brake lever on her chair forward, helped her stand. “Here we are. Let me get the door.”

Mariah held her hospital gown closed, bent, and peered inside.

 
Her eyes widened at a big round wheel, levers on the floor—more strange gadgets. "God, please help me," she whispered.

A shiver of apprehension quivered through her as she sat on the seat's edge, turned and put her feet inside. David leaned in, stretched a belt across her body and locked it into a coupling of some sort. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and closed the door, sealing her inside. She prepared for the same feeling she’d experienced in the new-fangled elevator, but the surrounding windows provided a much more open feel.

Afraid to move, she scanned the interior further. She touched the soft material overhead with one hand, while her other one caressed the seat cushion. She splayed her fingers against the cold glass window,
then
eyed the meters and knobs before her. How could someone forget such things?

David interrupted her inspection when he slid in beside her. “Are you ready?”

“I suppose.” Her heart pounded, partly in anticipation and partly from fear. He pulled his own belt across his lap and locked it, then inserted a key into a slot and turned it. The conveyance came alive. The hair on the back of her neck bristled and she jumped. “What’s that noise?”

“Don’t be scared, it’s just the engine.” His laughter began to annoy her. She saw nothing funny in her logical questions.

“Is it supposed to sound like that?”

“Yes, dear, all cars sound this way.
I just had ours tuned.
Remember?”

Remember, remember. Is that all you can say? If I remembered, would I ask? I’m going crazy. I don’t remember, I don’t, I don’t,
I
don’t.

Using both hands, she pushed her hair behind her ears and forced herself to be calm.
“No, but it’s not important.”
  
She blew a silent blast of air through pursed lips. Cars, Lexus, tuned:
 
too much to consider.

David’s foot applied pressure to a lever on the floor. He looked over his shoulder and pushed harder, and they surged forward into the line of other cars. Mariah held her breath and grasped the side of the seat. She forced herself to keep her eyes focused straight ahead as they approached the car in front of them.

The ride wasn’t as scary as she’d expected, in fact, a lot smoother than a wagon, and David appeared to know what he was doing. Despite wondering how they moved so fast, she sagged into the seatback, loosened her grip and relaxed.