The Lonely Lady

by Michelle Sutton

  *****

  Josiah saw Tara speaking to some tall guy who looked vaguely familiar. He wished he'd had a moment to shake hands with the guy so he could place him, but for some reason he couldn't recall seeing the guy before. So how could he look familiar? He'd just ask Tara, who looked more than a little bit nervous. He couldn't help wondering why.

  He smiled and hugged Tara, who stiffened in his arms. Strange.

  "You smell funny... like sweat." She wrinkled her nose, which looked incredibly cute.

  "You're acting skittish. Why?"

  She shrugged. "I'm just a bit annoyed that you were late."

  "If you only knew how hard I worked to get here on time. My back is still killing me."

  Her lip curled down and she teased, "Aw, you poor guy."

  He couldn't help smiling, though his body ached and there wasn't anything funny about that. "My mother had a ton of things lined up for me to do on the ranch and I finally told her I had to meet you and I promised to be back as soon as we talked."

  "What kinds of stuff were you doing to make you this stinky?"

  "Moving stuff. Heavy things. Mostly my dad's belongings that mom didn't want lying around the house to remind her that he was gone. Not that she doesn't notice every moment of every day regardless." He frowned. "But I guess not seeing his things all the time helps. I don't see how, though."

  Softness filled Tara's eyes and she moved closer to him so she had to look up when she spoke. "I remember when I thought my mom was going to die. I used to hold her clothes under my nose and just inhale her scent. It helped me to remember she was still with me. I even slept on her pillow for months." A few tears slid down her cheeks.

  A knot formed in his throat. He'd abandoned her when she'd needed him. If he'd had any idea... Maybe if he'd kept in contact with his family more they would've told him. Then, what? Would it have changed anything?

  The memory of his mother crying and holding her husband's shirt against her face the morning after his father had died made Josiah's heart swell with emotion until he worried he'd start crying himself, so he focused on her pain rather than his own.

  He brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs and held her face. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

  She glanced at the ground. He could tell it still bothered her. Tipping his head down for a kiss, she turned her face before their lips connected. That hurt.

  He waited a moment to see if she would explain why she avoided him, before asking. It gave him a minute to cool his mounting frustration with himself and with her for brushing him off again. Great way to hurt a man's ego, and right now he already struggled with their relationship. What did they mean to each other? Could they last as a couple? Could he ever right the wrong he'd done to her? It was maddening. Maybe it would be easier to start over with someone else. The fact that the thought even ran through his head made his heart ache. He was losing her. He sensed it.

  "I'm confused." She peered up at him through her bangs, her eyes leery.

  "Confused? About what?" Josiah rubbed his forehead, dreading their conversation and where it might lead. Again.

  "About us." She sighed. "About everything."

  He tensed. Maybe it had something to do with that guy she was talking to. "Does that man you were chatting with have anything to do with your... confusion?"

  Her eyes snapped up. "No."

  She'd been too quick to deny it. That didn't sit right with him. "Who was he?"

  "Dakota. From high school. Remember him from when you were in track together?"

  Now that she mentioned some context, he realized why the guy looked familiar. He hadn't been friends with him back in school even though they were on the same team. Dakota had been into pot and Josiah had been into... Tara. A memory of her in bed lying beneath him flashed through his thoughts and gave him a small rush. He shook it off like a sudden chill.

  "Now that you mention it, I remember him. What did he want?"

  "He wanted to ask me out." She avoided his gaze. Not a good sign.

  "You said no, right?" He searched her eyes, which had yet to look directly into his. So he touched her chin and directed her attention toward him. "You said no... right?"

  She yanked her chin away. "I said yes."

  Clenching his fists, he stifled the urge to swear and act childish. That would not impress her. But how could she even think about dating someone else when they were... what? She hadn't said yes when he'd proposed. Maybe she never intended to say yes and was stringing him along. The fury filling him at the thought of being used and then dumped was near-blinding.

  "What do you see in him?" His scoffing tone grated his ears, but he pressed anyway. "You hardly knew him in high school. Right?"

  "We got high a few times with a bunch of other kids. We never did anything, though, if that's what you mean. I'm not like that with just anyone."

  He nodded, still angry, but mildly comforted by that comment. "I thank God for that."

  She slapped his bicep. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Shrugging, he said, "Nothing. I didn't mean anything by it."

  A skeptical look formed on her brow. "I don't believe you. You think I'm a slut, don't you? You have no respect for me." Her voice sounded strangled. "In fact, you never respected me, did you?"

  "Tara, that's not true." He reached for her as she swiped the tears from her cheeks, but she dodged him, her back stiff.

  She waved him off with her hand. "Go on home, okay? I don't need you here when I talk to my boss. If something comes up I'll let you know. I just want to be left alone."

  If he argued with her, he sensed he'd lose and just upset her more, so he conceded. "Fine, I'll leave. I'll call you later."

  She nodded, her eyes cast down.

  As he turned and walked toward his house, he couldn't help wondering if he'd made a mistake by letting go without putting up a fight. Would she want him to press her harder to stay, or did she really want him to let her go? Women were so confusing.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tara couldn't seem to find the right way to broach the subject of the missing money, and oddly enough, the register was full and the balance matched the previous day's total, or at least that was the impression she got from Frieda, who seemed totally fine with whatever she saw inside. Maybe the burglar hadn't stolen from the salon but another place, and when he came to burglarize this place he was caught, so he took off running before he got into the till. Of course. That had to be it.

  A loud gasp made her look up. "Dakota, what are you doing here?"

  Tara watched as Frieda approached her nephew and held his red cheeks, obviously embarrassing him. "I thought you were supposed to be in rehab."

  "I was. I graduated." He darted a glance in Tara's direction as she rang up her customer and received the tip with a smile.

  She had no more appointments for the day, so maybe Frieda would let her go home early.

  Dakota's red face calmed a bit when he smiled at Tara. "Do you have a spot open today?"

  "For what? A haircut?"

  He nodded, his smoldering eyes making her tremble a bit. The only man who had ever looked at her like a hungry wolf before had been Josiah. But she'd known him and understood him. This guy was a virtual stranger. Then again, if he was Frieda's nephew, how bad could he be? At least that was how she reassured herself. For now.

  "I think I can fit you in." She glanced at Frieda, who nodded and quickly rang up the elderly woman whose hair she had freshly permed.

  "You go right ahead and take him. I've gotta leave early tonight. Can you close up the place for me? I have a doctor's appointment in fifteen minutes."

  "Sure. I can do that."

  Frieda handed Tara the keys and grabbed her purse. "Thanks. You're a doll." As she reached for the door, she glanced over her shoulder, "We'll talk later, Dakota."

  Tara watched the door click shut and looked at the clock. She still had almost an hour until closing time. It shouldn't take more than thirty minute
s to cut his hair. If that.

  Suddenly nervous because she was now alone in the salon with Dakota, she tossed the keys from one hand to the other.

  "Anxious about something?"

  She stopped jangling the keys. "No."

  He grinned. "You're lying. Why do I make you nervous?"

  "You don't. Now let's get started." She laid the keys on the counter by the register and reached for a black bib to tie around his neck. As she tied it, she smiled, remembering the night Josiah had come in for his haircut, and how that initial contact had brought them back together.

  "You're smiling. Are you looking forward to touching my hair?" A wicked grin covered his face and she could see that he was teasing.

  "Don't forget, I'm the one with the scissors here."

  "Ooh, I'm scared." He shuddered, and then laughed.

  "You should be scared." She pointed toward the chair by the sinks.

  He went over and sat down, resting his head back as he sighed. "I love getting my hair washed. Especially by a hottie like you."

  She ignored his comment and turned on the water, then poured shampoo in her palm and worked it into his hair until it built up a healthy lather.

  His goofy smile made her giggle. His sighs and moans made a hearty laugh burst from her until she started snorting. Not pretty.

  "You like that, eh?"

  "You're cracking me up. Most people love their hair being washed, but few sound like they're in the throes of passion... you know, when they get shampooed."

  His eyes opened and he captured her gaze with his. She'd never seen such light brown eyes before. They were almost golden. Not waiting to hear what he might say next, she rinsed his hair and massaged in some conditioner. After rinsing it out, she tossed a towel over his head and started patting it dry.

  While he didn't say anything for the next few minutes, she could tell by the look in his eyes that his mind was reeling. A few times he looked like he wanted to say something, but then he'd clamp his lips shut.

  She combed through his long, blond hair and enjoyed the silence for another moment. "How short?"

  "What do you suggest?"

  "Young Brad Pitt short?"

  He laughed. "No, that's not me. Maybe a few inches longer, and layered a bit."

  "You look a little like Brad. You sure you want it longer?"

  "I'm most definitely sure."

  "So what are you doing these days, besides getting out of rehab?"

  "I haven't decided yet. I used to work for my uncle in his garage, but it's closed now. I was also a waiter at the Longhorn for about three months. Maybe they'll hire me back. I never caused them any trouble before."

  "Is that how you ended up in rehab? By causing trouble?"

  "You could say that."

  She snipped away, trying to finish quickly, but not trash his hair at the same time. He had a lot of hair and as she cut his locks she saw a transformation that reminded her of when he was on the track team with Josiah and she used to attend their home meets.

  "How come you never went to college?"

  "Who says I didn't?" He grinned at her.

  "I just assumed--"

  "I went to ASU on a Track and Field scholarship. Couldn't stay away from the drugs, though, so I bombed after my second semester and dropped out."

  "That's too bad. You were a good runner."

  He smiled and closed his eyes. "That's not all I'm good at."

  She didn't want to have him elaborate, but something told her he was talking about sex. He'd always had plenty of girls in high school. She'd heard he was pretty experienced back then, too. Not that she wasn't...

  About twenty-five minutes later, she finished styling his hair and held a mirror up to help him see the back of his head. He peered at his reflection, but several times she caught him also sneaking glances at her.

  "You like it?"

  He held her gaze. "I love it."

  As he stood, she watched him warily. Part of her was flattered that he thought she was pretty, and part of her was nervous about being alone with him. He was obviously interested in her. While she thought he was handsome, that wasn't a good enough reason to date him. So why had she given him her address? Stupid, stupid thing to do.

  "Why are you frowning?"

  "Huh?" She glanced at him.

  He plunged his hands into his pockets and watched her. "I want to kiss you."

  She was so taken back by his direct comment that she froze, gaping at him.

  He must've taken that as permission because he plucked his hands from his pockets and cradled her face, then placed his lips on hers. Coming to her senses, she tried to push him away, but he was too strong. He deepened the kiss and she started to enjoy it. Oh, what was she doing? She couldn’t kiss another guy. Not when she was seeing Josiah.

  She grunted this time and pushed a bit harder. "What are you doing?"

  "You didn't say no." He smiled shyly.

  "I didn't say yes, either. How dare you assume that about me."

  "I figured you liked me and I liked you. It's no big deal."

  "To me it is. I don't kiss just anyone, you know."

  He scanned her face. "I'd heard you slept with Josiah. Was he any good?"

  "How would you hear something like that?" He had to be lying. Josiah wouldn't tell his friends they'd had sex, would he? He wouldn't be that cruel.

  "He used to talk about you when we were in the locker room after working out. We'd be all sweaty and nasty and while we showered we'd talk about our girlfriends."

  "What did he say?" She couldn't tell if Dakota was lying from the innocent look on his face. She could only assume he was telling what he remembered.

  Dakota shrugged. "Just that he used to go to your house every day to get a piece. Said you were really good, too." He chuckled. "Made me want some, but I didn't want him to kick my ass, so even though you were tempting, I left you alone."

  "He told you that?" She clenched her hands and resisted the urge to punch something. While not normally prone to violence, she had a sudden urge to call Josiah and rip him a new one. How dare he talk about their sex life with his peers.

  "Yep." Dakota stepped closer. "That was rude, huh? I would never do that to my girl."

  She glanced at him. He was nice-looking, and he wanted to kiss her again. She could sense it. Part of her wanted to kiss him again to get even with Josiah for being a blabbermouth.

  Before she had a chance to talk herself out of it, she stepped toward him and kissed him again, plunging her fingers into his freshly cut hair. While he was a great kisser, it just didn't do the same thing for her that Josiah's kisses had. He must've sensed it because he pulled back.

  "You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

  "Who?" She nibbled on her lip. Could he really read her mind?

  "Josiah. You're distracted."

  She shrugged. "I guess I'm not over him yet."

  "You two broke up?" He raised his brows as if he didn't believe her.

  "Not exactly. But we're not engaged or anything." She peered over her shoulder and saw how late it had gotten. "Oh my gosh, I've gotta get out of here. Can you help me clean up?"

  "Sure." He grabbed a broom and swept the wet hair into the dustpan, than knocked it off into the trash.

  As she quickly finished the rest of her closing activities, she realized she didn't want Dakota walking her home. But how could she brush him off without upsetting him?

  "Anything else you need help with?"

  "Yeah, you still need to pay me."

  "Right. Almost forgot." He reached into his pockets and removed a role of quarters from each one. "Keep the change. It's my tip."

  Her heart felt lodged in her throat. What was he doing with quarters? Hadn't Josiah said he'd been hit with rolls of the same kind of change? And if Dakota didn't have a job, what was he doing with rolled coins in his pockets?

  "Is everything okay? You look kinda pale."

  She blinked and tried to calm her breathing. Was he the
burglar?

  "I'm okay." She rang up the haircut, put the rolls in the cash register, and then pulled out the difference for her tip.

  "Good. I'll walk you home."

  "You don't have to do that."

  He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I insist."

  She decided not to argue with him as she reached for her purse and waved at him to wait for her outside.

  "I know how to set the alarm. You just grab the keys and get ready."

  He punched in the code and they both walked briskly toward the door.

  She was so shocked that he knew the alarm code that it rendered her speechless. Was he the burglar? And if so, why would he make it so obvious to her. She had to be mistaken.

  "Why are you looking at me like that? I used to help my aunt close up years ago. I figured she hadn't changed the code, and I was right."

  "I'm just surprised, is all."

  He shrugged like it was no big deal and started walking toward her house.

  Maybe she was being paranoid. He wouldn't steal from his own family, would he?

  "You coming?"

  She shrugged off the chill that went straight to her bones and smiled. "Right behind you."

  *****

  About nine o'clock that night, though he was bone-weary, Josiah decided to pay Tara a visit. He would've stopped by earlier, but he'd spent the early evening consoling his mother who had gotten a phone call from her doctor that afternoon stating they wanted her to come in the next day for an ultrasound of her breast.

  It wouldn't have been that scary, except that her mother had died from breast cancer. His mom had always worried the same thing would happen to her. He'd held her and prayed with her until she finally fell asleep on the couch. How much more pain could she take? He'd asked God that question over and over as he walked to Tara's, but he'd gotten nothing but silence. He just hoped and prayed that when he brought his mother in tomorrow for the procedure they wouldn't have any concerns.

  Please, God, let it just be a routine test. A safety measure.