Time Tantrums (26 page)

The sound of horses in the yard interrupted her ranting. The sun was already setting, and she welcomed the sound of Frank’s voice calling goodnight to his men. She’d managed to prepare dinner because she knew he’d be tired, and had fried up a slice of ham and boiled some potatoes. It was something she’d watched him do, so it wasn’t that difficult. This time, she tasted everything beforehand.

 
She turned from the stove when he walked in, and greeted him with a smile. “I thought you’d never get home. You must be exhausted.”

He hung his hat on the rack and sniffed the air.
“Smells good in here.
You’ve been cookin’?”

“At the risk of being insulted again, yes I have been. But I tasted it and
it’s
safe this time.”

Frank laughed, and bent to pull of his left boot. “I’m so hungry, I could eat jalapeño relish.”

Her laughter blended with his as she stuck her finger into test the water heating on the back burner. “I can guarantee you this is not a repeat performance of that night.”
 
She pointed to the steaming pail. “I knew you’d want a bath before eating, so I have water ready for you. Would you like me to heat more?”

“Nope, one bucket’s enough. I’m gonna get in, wash off the layer of dirt and get out. I’m starved.”

* * * *

Frank finished the last bite and leaned back in his chair. “That was mighty delicious. Thanks.”

Taylor smiled at his compliment. “It did taste good, even if I do say so myself.”

She pushed her plate aside and leaned on the table. “Who knows, if I ever get to go home, maybe I’ll start cooking for David more often.”

Frank noticed the sadness in her eyes when she mentioned home. “He’d probably like that. We men like to be spoiled. I have to admit I’d sure like to have Mariah home. No offense, but she’s about the best cook around. Besides, I really miss her.”

“No offense taken. We both know my cooking skills are dismal at best. She’s pretty lucky to have a man like you. If I had met you under different circumstances and didn’t love my own husband so much, I might try to give her a run for her money.”

He winked. “I know what you mean. You’re a fine and genuine person, Taylor, and you’ve come a long way since we met. Heck, I don’t think I’ve heard you cuss in… gee, I can’t even remember the last time.”

“I’ve been trying to stop. From hearing you talk about Mariah all these nights, I’ve done a lot of comparison. Don’t get me wrong. I’m fine with
who
I am, but there’s always room for improvement. One thing is never going to change though…” She yanked a long lock of hair forward and wrinkled her nose. “I’ll never get used to having red hair.”

* * * *

Taylor pulled the curtains back and stared into the darkness. Frank had already gone to bed, but sleep wouldn’t come for her. She pondered the events of the past weeks and wondered how David had spent the time. Her heart ached, longing to see him again. She willed her love for him to float up to the heavens and be delivered through the twinkling of a star. But she gazed up and saw no stars. The heavens were devoid of light much like her life without David.

Suddenly, the blanket of darkness came alive. On the far horizon, bolts of lightening illuminated the sky; resounding claps of thunder provided fanfare for the fantastic light display. The beauty of nature’s fury mesmerized her and held her rapt at the window.

As the storm moved closer, a brilliant bolt lit up the entire bedroom. It seemed to penetrate the glass. Its sudden surge of power frightened her and she backed away. Her hands tingled. She wrung them together, wondering why they felt so weird.

 
The strange sensation slowly traveled up her arms and throughout the rest of her body. The room began to spin. She perched on the edge of the bed and waited, hoping the dizziness would pass. “What’s wrong with me?” she mumbled.

Another clap of thunder resonated through the room. She leaned over and rested her head against the pillow. “I don’t feel very well.”

* * * *

Mariah pulled her vacant gaze from the television screen and checked the time on the clock over the mantle. The days since David had returned to work were long and lonely. Her only pastime had become TV, but that didn’t fill all the many hours she had to think about Frank, Cassie and Jacob. She fought every day not to give up on the belief that one day she would go home again.
 
Seeing it was almost time for David, she rose and meandered into the kitchen.

She so looked forward to him coming home every night, and always made sure he had a good dinner as a reward for his hard work. The time they spent talking was what she missed most. When she needed to stay strong, he’d always gave her hope. She checked on dinner and set the table.

The garage door opened and closed. She rushed to get the food served up, and eagerly waited for him to come inside. When he walked in, she ignored the slight fluttering in her stomach. He looked so handsome in his suit. She smiled at him. “Hi. How was your day?”

He loosened his tie.
“Same old thing.
Not bad, but not as much fun as hanging around here with you.”

“I miss your company, too. If I’m destined to stay here, I’ve got to find something to do. There’s nothing to keep me busy here. You’re too neat, and I don’t have children to pick up after and scold. I get so lonely. You’re the only person I know.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have cancelled our last appointment with Dr. Ramone.” David took off his sport coat, hung it on the back of the chair and went to the sink to wash his hands.

Mariah sat at the table. “No, I think we were right. There was nothing more she could do for us. We wanted an answer and we got one—just not the one I wanted.”

She, as usual, waited until David filled his plate before filling her own. When he took a bite of his dinner, his eyes lit up. “Taste all right?” She asked.

“Yummy. Who wouldn’t love fried chicken, crispy and brown?” He eagerly dug into his mashed potatoes.

“You act like you haven’t eaten in a week.”

He swallowed and laughed. “I keep thinking, one of these days you just might go home and I’ll be forced to fend for myself again.”

* * * *

After dinner, Mariah sat with David in the living room. He was immersed in watching
Cops
on television, while she was lost in thought. She sat on the
sofa,
legs folded under her, and stared through the sliding glass doors at the lights illuminating the swimming pool. It started to rain. Droplets gently pelted the still water of the pool sending ripples across the serene surface. How she wished she could find serenity. There was no peace from the haunting faces of her family—those she loved and missed terribly.

A sudden clap of thunder startled her and sent a shiver racing through her body. She glanced at David, still engrossed in his program and oblivious to the noise. Lightening silhouetted the trees in the backyard as a brilliant bolt lit up the sky behind. Within a few seconds, she heard another roar of thunder and saw the rain’s intensity increase. The pool water changed from gentle ripples to a frenzied display of dancing bubbles. Another bolt of lightning seared across the sky. The living room went dark.

Before she could ask what had happened, a clap of thunder shivered the plate glass doors as though they were nothing more than a muslin sheet; the vase sitting on the table next to her crashed to the floor.

Mariah heard David fumbling in the dark. Her body felt strange—prickly shocks surged through her hands and arms, and she suddenly became very lightheaded. She straightened her legs, put her feet on the floor and leaned back against the soft velour pillows of the couch. “David… there’s a candle in—”

* * * *

David struck a match and put it to the wick of the candle. “Voilà, we have light!”

Not hearing a response, he glanced over at Mariah. “Are you asleep?”

She didn’t answer.

 
He crossed to the couch and sat next to her. “Mariah, are you all right?”
 
When she didn’t respond, he gently tapped her cheek. “Wake up!”

Slowly, her eyelids opened. She squinted at first then blinked several times; candlelight reflecting in chocolate pool. Her gaze roamed the dimly lit room then returned to him. She flattened her back against the sofa and blinked a few more times. “David?”
 
Her tone held a definite question.

“Yes. Who else were you expecting?” He laughed.

“Oh, David!
My God, is it really you?” She threw her arms around his neck and smothered his face with kisses. Pulling away, she studied his face then snaked her arms around him again.” It’s really you, David. It’s really you,” she crooned.

Her sudden show of affection perplexed him. He reached behind his head and unclasped her arms from around his neck, then holding her hands in his own, asked, “Mariah, did you have a bad dream or something?”

She lunged forward and covered his lips with a passionate kiss. Her probing tongue encouraged him to part his lips and allow her access. He complied, although with eyes wide open. Their tongues intertwined in a long overdue, but oh so familiar kiss.

 
David pulled away and held her at arm’s length. “Taylor, is that you? I mean
really
you?”

She giggled with heartfelt delight. “Yes, my darling. It’s me. I’m home!
Finally.”

* * * *

Mariah rolled over to see the sun filtering into the room through the thin curtains. Minute dust particles floated in the rays, dancing until they disappeared from sight. She wondered how long she’d slept.

The bed seemed more comfortable than she remembered. She stroked the covers and fingered the intricate patchwork stitching. Her eyes widened. “It can’t be.”

She pulled the corner of the bedding up to her face.

My quilt! Lordy, it’s the quilt Grandma made me.

Mariah bolted upright and scanned the room. Her gaze locked on her familiar washbowl and pitcher, the oval mirror on the wall. “Dear Lord, don’t let this be a dream.”

She ran to the armoire and threw open the doors. Her own familiar clothing greeted her. She pulled the hem of her cottony nightgown to her face. “It’s mine…this is all mine.
Thank you God, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

She bolted through the bedroom door and sprinted into the hallway. “Frank, Frank,” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Where are you?”

When there was no response, she raced downstairs, her feet barely making contact. “Frank,” she continued to shout. “Where are you?

Finding the kitchen empty, she hurried to the window and scanned the yard. At that very moment, he sauntered out of the barn.
Her wonderfully handsome husband, Frank.

She burst through the door and onto the porch—her wonderful porch with climbing vines and rocking chairs. She paused to inhale the delicious aroma of honeysuckle for validation before she crossed the yard and bounded into her husband’s arms. She sent his hat flying. “Frank, oh my darling Frank. It’s me, Mariah. I’m home.”

Epilogue

Taylor

Denver, Colorado—2002

A million thoughts ran through Taylor’s mind. Had it been a dream or had it really happened?
 
David slept next to her—she heard his gentle snores. She looked around for verification. Yes, she was in her own tastefully decorated bedroom.

But, what of Frank, the Rocking C and Colorado Territory?
 
Everything seemed so confusing at the moment.

She reached out and gently touched David’s backside for assurance he was real. She remembered making love last night. That certainly wasn’t a dream. She still basked in the afterglow. Was everything else she remembered just a figment of her imagination? She pondered waking David and asking if anything strange had happened.

She rolled onto her back and pulled the blankets up.

Sure, wake him up and ask if you came home from 1872. If it was a dream, he’s going to have you committed.

Maybe when he woke he would broach the subject, and then again, maybe not. She locked her hands behind her head, stared at the ceiling and replayed the dream: Handsome Frank Cassidy, the beautiful porch with the fragrant honeysuckle, the horseback ride she hated. It all seemed so vivid in her mind.
And what about the church social?
How in the world could she have dreamed that? She never went to church. A glance at the clock on the night stand showed the time was five thirty. What woke her so early? Usually she had to have an alarm. Was this a workday?