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Authors: Ginger Simpson

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BOOK: Time Tantrums
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“No problem. I was on my way to take a swim. Want to join me?”

“Swim?
Where?”

“We have a pool in the backyard, remember?”

Mariah hadn’t ventured that far yet. “We have a swimmin’ hole?”

He chuckled. “Where did this new language come from? I said pool... swimming pool.”

Her cheeks heated. The fact he found her speech so different only proved she wasn’t the same person. And was a pool the same thing as a hole?

 
David took her hand and led her to the curtained wall in the living room. He pulled on a piece of hanging cord and the material parted in the middle, revealing a huge window. Beyond was a large fenced area filled with plants, flowers and an expanse of green, all next to a large pond of crystal blue water.

 
She could barely wait for him to open the door. Once outside, she strolled from one end of the yard to the other, smelling the flowers and walking barefoot in the lush grass. She paused at the edge of the pool, knelt and wiggled her fingers in the water, then gazed up at David. “I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.”
 
The phrase rang all too familiar. Her days were filled with strange new things she’d never even imagined.

David took off his bathrobe and dove in, drenching her with the resulting splash. He surfaced, rolled over on his back and kicked his feet. “You always had your heart set on having your own pool. You were on the swim team in college, and you love water.
Logical match.
Go get your suit on and join me.”
 

Mariah wiped the back of her hand across her dripping face and pushed back a soggy strand of hair. She crinkled her nose at the strange almost medicinal smell hanging in the air. “What suit?”

She averted her eyes from the flimsy bit of material that clung to his evident manhood.

“Swimsuit.
You have twenty-five of them at last count.” He chuckled.

“I don’t know how to swim... at least I don’t think I do.” Her head ached from trying to remember.

“Taylor,” his voice turned stern, “believe me, you’re a swimmer. Go change. Once you get in the water, it will come back to you. It’s like riding a bicycle.”

“Bicycle?”

He rolled his eyes.
“Never mind.”
He waved her away. “We’ll talk about that later. Just go get changed. This will be good therapy for your sore muscles.”

She cringed at having to ask yet another question. “Where would I find my swimming clothes?”

“Bottom drawer, right hand side, I believe.”

She went inside, rummaged through the bottom drawer and pulled out tops and bottoms resembling pieces in the undergarment drawer. “Heavens,” she mumbled. “I can’t possibly wear anything so revealing—especially in front of David.”

 
But,
he expected her to join him.

Mariah tried on a few, but shed them quickly when she glanced in the mirror and saw how much flesh she exposed. Finally, at the drawer’s bottom, she found a single piece that covered more than any of the others. She put it on and turned in a full circle in front of the looking glass.

 
At least this one doesn’t display every part of me… but I still feel naked as a jay bird. I can’t go out there like this.

David called to her. She snatched the robe from the bed, wrapped it around her and stepped outside. “Here I am.” She ignored her thudding heart.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Take that thing off and come on in. The water’s warm.”

Mariah stood clutching her wrapper with white knuckles. David paddled to the shallow end and extended a hand. “C’mon. Just stand on the stairs until you’re ready.”

She dangled her foot over the side and tested the water, then stepped down. “Oh, it does feel nice.”

Mariah braved the second step.

“Take off your robe,” he said a second time. “You’re gonna get it wet.”

“I… I don’t know if I can. I’m not used to… exposing so much of myself.”

“Look, Taylor. I’ve seen everything you have. You’re my wife. I’ve made love to your body a thousand times.”
 
He waded closer and cupped his hand to his mouth. “This may come as a shock to you, but I’ve actually seen you naked.”

His words lit a fire that flamed her face. She lowered her eyes and fought the urge to argue. Her mind formed words she wanted to scream at him.

You have not seen me naked. You may have seen Taylor, but not me.

 
“Really,” David continued to prod, “come on in. You’ll enjoy it.”

She had no way out. With a deep breath, she flung the robe onto a nearby chair, scampered into the shallow water, and crouched beneath the surface until nothing showed but her neck and head. The water felt surprisingly warm. “All right, I’m in. Are you satisfied?”

Hopefully, she hadn’t revealed too much.

 

* * * *

 

After several futile attempts to move beyond the shallow end, and sinking like a rock, Mariah wondered why David still insisted she was a swimmer. Tired of gagging and choking on swallowed water, she’d reached her boiling point. Her jaw ached from tensing it.

She pushed saturated hair out of her face and glared at him. “See? Are you convinced? I do
not
know how to swim. You may find this fun, but I certainly don’t.”

With anger bubbling, she realized she stood in shallow water, bearing her body to him. It didn’t deter her. Her concern over modesty had shifted to surviving the swimming pool.

“I’m sorry, honey. I thought you’d enjoy it.” He covered his mouth.

Is he laughing at me?

When she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window, she understood. Rivulets of water dribbled down her face from hair askew and plastered strangely on one side of her head.

The sight only served to make her madder. “I don’t know what you think is so funny. I’m getting out.”

Scampering up the pool stairs, she grabbed her robe, threw it around her shoulders then flounced into the house. The sliding door slammed hard enough to shimmy the huge panes of glass.

 

* * * *

 

Despite David’s apology, Mariah sat on the sofa with her back to him.

“I don’t know why you’re so mad at me. I only laughed because you looked so adorable.” He touched her shoulder.

The sincerity in his voice caused her icy anger to melt. She turned to look at him. “I don’t like people making fun of me. It seems you’re either annoyed with me or laughing at something I’ve done. I thought it was kind of me to even try your silly swimming hole… pool.”

He inched closer, his empty gaze focused beyond her. “I can’t for the life of me understand how someone forgets how to swim. In college, you were Olympic-caliber.”
 
A sigh escaped him. He swiped his hand across his mouth,
then
smiled at her. “But, you were a good sport and I’m sorry I laughed at you. It won’t happen again, I promise.

Mariah relaxed, letting the rigidity leave her shoulders. “All right, but next time I tell you I can’t do something, promise you’ll believe me.”

“I promise!”
 
He put his hand over his heart. “Hey, tell you what. To make up, how about I take you to a movie?”

           
Her smile sagged to a frown.

           
Oh, not again. You say something and I have to ask the meaning. I’m sick of this.
  

“Before you have to ask, a movie is like television only bigger, louder and with hot buttery popcorn.”

Mariah licked her lips. It’d been a long time since she’d had popcorn and then only once. “I’d love to go. Should I change clothes?”
 
She gestured toward the jeans and t-shirt she wore.

“What you have on is fine. Let me check the newspaper and find out what’s playing.”

Bigger and louder than television… and popcorn?
 
She released a long breath.
As long as there is no water involved, I’m ready to give it a try.

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

Colorado Territory—1872

 

Frank looked down at his dirty clothes and stained hands. “Well, before I fix us something to eat, I think I’d better take a bath. After mucking the stalls, I’m sure you don’t want to sit down to dinner with me smellin’ like this. Usually one of the hands takes care of that chore, but they’re tending cattle today.”

Bath?

 
She couldn’t believe her ears. “You have a tub? I’ve been using a pitcher and bowl to wash up everyday. You mean I could actually have been taking a
bath
instead?”

“You really have forgotten most everything, haven’t you?
 
The door next to the guest room hides my project in the works. Don’t you remember

I’m building a water closet... like those newfangled ones in the catalog? We keep the tub in there. I don’t suppose you recall when we went into town to order it?”
 
His eyelids fluttered. “We still have to haul the water upstairs, but someday, I may even be able to connect it to the pump outside.”

A relaxing Jacuzzi popped into Taylor’s mind. “Okay, if it’s 1872 and we don’t have running water, how come I remember sitting in a huge bathtub with jets and massager? Why do I even know what they are?

Frank’s eyes reflected that familiar confusion she’d seen so often; he offered no response.

Something was very wrong with this picture. Had she been kidnapped and a ransom demanded?
 
She dispelled the thought. A kidnapper probably wouldn’t draw her bath and make her dinner.

With no explanation of her mysterious flashback, she dared not try to explain it, but she certainly wasn’t passing on a real bath. “Lead the way.”
 

Frank grinned. “Judging from the smile on your face, I guess I should have mentioned the tub sooner. You go on up. I’ll put some water on the stove to heat.”

 

* * * *

 

Thoughts of dinner dimmed as she watched Frank empty the first bucket of steaming water into the footed enamel tub. Her tired body yearned for a relaxing bath, but like everything else, Taylor compared the antiquated fixture to the modern conveniences she yearned for.
Oh, for a hot water heater and running water.

 
The sound of Frank adding the second bucket interrupted her thoughts. She watched the rising steam. “I guess I should wait a minute or so until it cools a little.”

“Unless you want to
be
dinner, that’s a good idea.” He closed the door behind him, his laughter fading as he descended the stairs.

Taylor stepped out of her clothing and dipped one foot into the water. It felt hot, but the longer she wiggled her toes, the more comfortable and inviting it became. She stepped in, sat and leaned back, sliding her body down into the shallow water. Her breasts were barely covered and her toes stuck out at the other end.

“Gee, another bucket or two would have been nice, but...” she mumbled.
Stop griping, Taylor! Just enjoy the moment. It’s better than the pitcher and bowl routine.

She reached to a side table, picked up a bar of soap and rubbed it between her wet hands. A luxurious fragrance of lavender rose from the bubbles. The warmth already faded from the water, so she quickly washed then held her nose and submerged her head. After working the soap into a thick lather, she spread the foam through her hair, and dipped again for a quick rinse. Wincing at the soap sting, she knuckled water from her eyes and heaved a sigh.
I can’t believe I just washed my hair in the same water I bathed in,
and
with hand soap. God, I miss my Paul Mitchell shampoo.

She submerged one last time, hoping to remove the last traces of soap. Her hair was as clean as it was going to get, so she stood, and with water drizzling down her face, grabbed the towel hanging nearby.

“Crap!” She hadn’t remembered to bring clean clothing.

Taylor wrapped herself in the towel, opened the door and started to dash across the hall. To her surprise, Frank leaned against the wall next to her door. He held a clean towel and his change of clothes.
“Jes’ waitin’ my turn.”

 
“Uh... excuse me,” she said, her cheeks burning. She ran inside, closed the door, leaned against it, and took a deep breath.

 
Dumb, dumb, dumb. Taylor, if you don’t want to get yourself into a compromising position again, you’d better plan a little better.

 
She shook her head to dispel the images of Frank undressing for his bath and searched the armoire. She’d grown tired of wearing the same dress but in a different print and looked for something else. What she wouldn’t give for her jeans and a t-shirt.

BOOK: Time Tantrums
7.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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