A Majestic Affair

by Sharon G Clark

  "People?" The disbelief she must be experiencing, strengthened with the one word, as a smirk twisted Tiara's lips.

  "Yes, Slim, Aunt Edna..." Jayce hesitated, wondering if she should be completely honest. When Tiara rolled her eyes, she didn't debate the pros and cons of her next action. Jayce pulled Tiara up at her own eye level. Her gaze drawn to slightly tremulous lips, Jayce whispered, "I needed you, Red," before she brought her lips to Tiara's in a hungry kiss.

  Jayce felt Tiara lean into the kiss and answer with her own need. She gently thrust her tongue into Tiara's mouth, rewarded with the return thrust dancing against her teeth and the roof of her mouth. The sensations stirred had Jayce blocking out all else.

  Until she felt a sharp jab to her shin as Tiara kicked her.

  Jayce jerked back with a mumbled curse and reached for her injured limb as Tiara dropped onto her backside with a thud. "What the..." Then Jayce heard the frantic beeping of car horns from outside.

  Tiara stood and massaged the abused area. Jayce thought to offer assistance, but decided to leave well enough alone.

  "I have company," Tiara informed her coldly, spinning on her heels toward the hallway. She turned and flashed Jayce an angry glare. Tilting her head and looking to a point behind Jayce's shoulder, Tiara said, "The road traveled both ways, Jayce. I don't remember anyone driving to see me, either."

  Jayce stood statue-still in Tiara's kitchen and monitored the woman's retreat, not missing Tiara's hand rubbing an injured backside, knowing she should go after her, but unable to do so. Jayce didn't chase women, even when she owed them an apology. Tiara had hit the nail on the head, though. Both she and Slim could have brought Tiara back, ignored Angie's directives otherwise, and explained Tiara had a place here. Neither of them had done so, not after all Jayce's letters returned with hateful remarks scrawled on the unopened envelopes; or, after Angie managed to put a restraining order against her and Slim. Regardless, Slim kept track of Tiara during her absence: her accomplishments and her career; and, subsequently, shared them with Jayce and Edna. All of them had believed it enough, at the time. Could they have been wrong? Had leaving Tiara to make the decision, the effort, only increased the problem of her thinking that she didn't belong?

  No, it needed to be Tiara's choice. Had Tiara chosen to believe her father, Aunt Edna and Jayce had abandoned her? Apparently, yes. That's why her sorrow had never disappeared. Jayce had to explain, let Tiara know the truth. Maybe chasing someone wasn't a bad thing.

  Jayce charged down the hallway and out the front door, then stopped short. One car and two vehicles loaded with building material and other supplies had parked behind Tiara's truck. Jayce paid them a cursory glance. What had stopped her was the scene enacting on the concrete slab. A homely pregnant woman stood behind Tiara, a huge man beside her and both watched a young blonde boy give Tiara a more than friendly bear hug, and followed with spinning her in a circle and a loud kiss directly on Tiara's lips.

  Those being the same lips Jayce had tasted only a moment ago.

  Jayce recognized her inner rage to be jealousy. She hated that it was because of a kid probably barely out of high school. How could I have read Tiara so wrong? Had she misinterpreted Tiara's return kiss in the kitchen? Who was playing games now?

  "She felt abandoned, my Aunt Fan...Edna," Jayce mumbled.

  Quietly, so not to draw attention, Jayce retraced her steps and left out the back door, carefully closing the screen behind her. She'd just go around the back and head home. Obviously, not needed anymore, Jayce didn't intend to watch some kid manhandle Red.

  As Jayce crossed the back fence, Majestic whinnied loudly. For the first time in her life, she felt betrayed by a horse. The goose honked its own discordant broadcast.

  The cacophony caught Tiara's attention, "Jayce, where are you going?"

  Chapter Six

  TIARA COULDN'T BELIEVE Jayce tried to scurry away like the rat she'd been in the kitchen. "Come meet my friends," she ordered, waving Jayce over. She hoped Jayce felt horrible for the things she'd said, but Tiara doubted it, especially when she noticed what she supposed was ill humor emanating from Jayce's eyes and directed toward the group. Tiara's own aggravation billowed around her like a tarp caught in a strong wind. She wanted to fling it back at Jayce, but held it under control. Did Jayce feel guilty for what had transpired in the kitchen? That's what it had to be, slinking away because of guilt. Maybe a little constructive time with real people would level Jayce's attitude, not to mention cement the understanding that Tiara had done just fine on her own, and didn't need Jayce or her kisses.

  Tiara shuddered. Gosh, I even think in building terms. "Everyone," she started when Jayce joined them. "This is Jayce Mansfield. She lives on the property joining Dad's and is helping with the horse."

  "Horse?" Darla exclaimed. "I didn't know your dad had a working farm."

  "He doesn't. Long story." Tiara assured her. "Jayce, Darla," then she pointed to the towering behemoth pussycat of a man, "and Mark Chester. They're expecting baby Chester soon."

  "Not too soon." Mark gave his haw-haw-haw and extended his hand in Jayce's direction. "Pleasure. Hope we won't disturb you too much with all the fixing Boss Lady's got in mind."

  "Nice to meet you, Mark, Darla," Jayce said. "It'll be nice to see some changes around here. If they're too good, though, we'll--she'll-- have to change the name of the place."

  "And this," Tiara said, indicating the youngest of her crew, "is Craig Walters."

  "Pleased to meet you, Jayce." Craig vigorously shook hands with Jayce and beamed an ear-to-ear smile. "Tiara's doing the fixing, so you'd better work on new names now," he stated, draping an arm across Tiara's shoulder.

  "Really?" Jayce sounded unconvinced.

  Tiara wanted to slap Jayce upside the head, would have if she could easily reach the eight-inch difference. Instead, she planted herself directly in front of Jayce and snapped, "Yes, really."

  Jayce gave a quizzical expression. "I never meant--"

  "You did. I can... Oh, never mind. We've covered this ground before."

  Jayce crossed her arms. "If memory serves, you had a closer acquaintance than I did, with the ground that is."

  Tiara's face fused with heat, whether with anger or embarrassment that the incident with the brute was brought up at all, she couldn't be sure. Either way, Tiara fumed. "That was low."

  "Then we're even," Jayce stated while glaring at Craig.

  "For what?" Tiara demanded. She wanted to demand a reason from Jayce just what Craig had done to warrant her obvious disfavor.

  "The chauvinistic crack, okay?"

  "Geez!" Tiara groaned, poking Jayce in the stomach with her finger. "I was talking about handling the repairs, not that--that--"

  "Horse," Jayce supplied through gritted teeth. "That's the second time you've poked me. Don't do it again. And Majestic is a horse."

  "It's a beast--just like you."

  Jayce's eyes darkened. "Better a beast than a foolish, heartless, munchkin female without a clue."

  Tiara gasped at the words. She felt the verbal blow as keen and biting as any physical assault. Words she'd told herself often enough, but it hurt painfully that Jayce would declare them to her face. "I guess you're right, Jayce," Tiara mumbled, turning to find three pairs of shocked eyes glaring at Jayce, then back toward her.

  "Who the hell does she think she is?" Craig spat. "Woman or not, she has--"

  "Whoa, pup," Mark grabbed Craig by his shirt collar. Mark stared at Jayce. "Tiara, I'd like to get my wife inside and settled outta the heat and all."

  The sting of Jayce's words drained her emotionally and physically, and Tiara willed her feet to move toward Darla. "I'm sorry. Let me show you inside."

  From behind, she heard Jayce's whispered plea, "Red, wait. Let me--"

  When her words cut off abruptly, Tiara twisted her head to find Craig and Mark blocked Jayce's path, Mark's huge hand on her shoulder. "I think you've said enough for now, Ms. Mansfield. Go on home and lick
your wounds. Darla will tend to Boss Lady's."

  "Yeah, but--" Jayce, a tall woman in her own right, had to look up at the towering man.

  Tiara knew Jayce had no way of knowing Mark's true nature. At this moment, she was uncertain she knew it very well, having never encountered this situation before. Mark shook his head, "But nothing, Ma'am." Tiara felt the urge to intervene. She stanched the impulse when Mark's voice dropped menacingly, as he told Jayce, "Don't ever talk to her like that again, in or out of my presence, being a lady or not... Understood?"

  Tiara winced at the antagonism lacing the words. She glanced at Jayce and saw what appeared to be frustration broadcasting from her eyes. Jayce met her gaze and the emotion softened for half a second, before she spun on her boot heels and stomped off in the direction of her home. Without completely understanding why, Tiara started after

  Jayce, but Darla halted her with a gentle hand on her arm.

  "Give her a chance to cool down," Darla said with gentleness.

  Tiara gave a wry smile. "No, she isn't wrong."

  Darla stared at her for a long moment, as if gauging adequate words by gleaning hints from Tiara's features. "Then you both need to let it all sink in and cool off." Tiara gaped, disconcerted that Darla read too much. Darla laughed pleasantly and nudged her up the porch steps. "Come on, show me around. If I know those two," she said, inclining her head in Craig and Mark's direction, "they want to see how much can be unloaded before lunch."

  Tiara paused. "Oh, lunch." Honesty being best from the get-go, she explained, "Junk food is about all you're going to find in the kitchen, right now. Dad doesn't appear to be much into culinary arts." After her argument with Jayce, not being straightforward seemed to have consequences of their own. Well, they'd learn soon enough. "Darla, I...I can't--"

  "I need to ask a favor," Darla interrupted, her brow puckered. "I appreciate you allowing me to join Mark and this invasion on your home."

  "I didn't give you much time to give the decision any thought. And I don't mind. It'll be nice to have another woman...um...have you here."

  Darla continued, "It's nice to get out of the apartment, sort of a vacation in the country. But I wouldn't feel right if I didn't contribute in some way, and since you'll be working, I'd like to do the cooking."

  Tiara laughed nervously and cast a glance at the two men unloading the trucks, hoping they weren't listening. "I appreciate the offer, Darla, but I certainly don't want you overdoing it, either, not in your condition. Cooking isn't exactly my strong suit." She hoped glossing over the topic didn't constitute lying.

  Pushing the front door open, Darla stepped inside. While giving a quick look around, she said, "Actually, I believe you've forgotten your bad case of flu last winter. I stopped by with homemade chicken soup."

  Tiara remembered, but didn't understand the correlation. "I've seen your refrigerator and cupboards." Darla caught sight of the couch. Sitting down, she patted a spot and Tiara joined her. "Except for munchies, you had the Old Mother Hubbard look going on."

  "I eat a lot of take-out," Tiara explained.

  "Maybe, if you have a bit of time while I'm here, I can work with you on easy recipes that don't take much longer than nuking something in the microwave."

  "I'd like that."

  "Well, it's the least I can do, seeing what a great boss you are to Mark, and the others. The barbecues, the Christmas parties, and never forgetting anniversaries--"

  "Gotta keep up morale." Tiara shook her head. "Besides, I'm simply assuring my company does well. It's good business."

  Darla frowned. "You don't recognize your place in this 'family', do you?" Tiara must have made an expression she was unaware of. "I didn't mean to upset you," Darla said.

  "You didn't."

  "Yes, I probably did, but we'll move on. For now."

  Darla hit the proverbial nail squarely. Tiara didn't know how to behave or react. With Angie, she was a sounding board for drunken rage, depression and disapproval. With Slim, the early years, anyway, she was the clumsy child who couldn't do anything right, though he patiently looked on. With Jayce, she wasn't a strong enough woman. Jayce may have kissed her less than an hour ago, but, similar to the summer ten years ago, found Tiara lacking. Jayce proved it by not returning to the antics she played, or spending time alone with her while she lived in Silver Waters. Something about those memories felt wrong, but would have to wait until later to give more thought. The part she played in people's lives had her feeling like...well, like the redheaded stepchild. When it came to family, Tiara didn't belong, didn't fit into any picture of the average expectations.

  Unable to meet the disappointed stare in Darla's eyes, Tiara stood and tugged her hands free. "You're probably tired after the ride down. I'll show you to a room. All the bedrooms are upstairs," she explained, "but there's a den. I could bring down a bed and make it more comfortable and convenient for you not to have to climb."

  Darla sighed wearily. Tiara wasn't sure if it were exhaustion or acceptance at the change of topic. Either way, it would be best to get the woman settled and herself outside and working, as work was the only cure for her bad mood.

  "Upstairs is fine, I can use the exercise. If we need to adjust rooms later, we will."

  Half an hour later, Darla set up in Slim's room for a nap, Tiara made her way to the side of the house and the rhythmic pounding of hammers. They'd started on the obvious points of neglect and Tiara pulled Mark aside to explain the ideas she had and to formulate a plan for basic time scheduling. When they'd finished their conversation, she began to fret they hadn't made adequate accommodations for Darla's condition and nap time, and brought it up to him.

  Mark relieved her worries. "Boss Lady, she'll sleep through anything. Any noise we make will be a lullaby to her."

  "Then I'll finish the corral." Tiara realized she hadn't thanked him for earlier. Whether she deserved his concern or not, she appreciated the protective gesture; and wondered if the mixed elation and discomfort was how sisters felt when brothers defended their honor. "About Jayce--um..." Tiara wasn't sure how to begin or exactly what to say.

  Mark smiled and bowed his head closer to her. "She probably could have whipped me. I may be a lot taller than most, but I can't fight a lick. My size usually scares most folks off. Besides, I couldn't hurt a woman."

  "Thanks," she said. "Jayce wouldn't hurt me." Not physically at least.

  "My pleasure. Now get to work, slacker," Mark said.

  "Yes, sir, Boss Gentleman." She gave a mock salute and hustled toward the fence.

  The brute greeted Tiara by trotting closer and stomping a hoof soundly against the sun-dried dirt, his tail swishing. "What?" she barked, releasing a bit of tension. He replied by craning his neck over the wood rail, mere inches from her face, and exhaled a warm breathy snort. "I hope that's an apology." The horse whickered. "Don't play dumb," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "If you had let Jayce sneak out, I wouldn't have introduced her to my, well, my friends, I guess. You're at fault, too, you know. Not to mention your peanut gallery." Majestic tossed his head. "All right, we're all at fault, but you're not totally forgiven."

  Majestic's snout was close to her face. Hesitant and slow, she raised a flattened hand toward his nose so he could sniff her. She'd seen it done in the movies, but didn't remember the actors trembling like she was. The horse sniffed with flared nostrils and Tiara brought the hand under his jaw and rubbed. He was soft and coarse at the same time and he seemed to like the attention, staring at her sideways with a huge and very dark-brown eye. "I wonder if this would work on Jayce?"

  With a nudge of his long face into her chest, Majestic applied enough force to send her back a step. "Okay, bad idea." Tiara shook her head and continued to rub. "Don't know what I was thinking, either." The horse stared at her, so she stared back and the realization of the last few minutes hit home. She dropped her hand and slapped it against her leg. "What am I doing? I'm talking to you as if you understand every word. You're just a dumb animal
."

  The horse didn't take the insult well. Neither did his commando goose. Tiara knew she should prepare herself for their rebuttal, but stood watching, like a dope. Majestic stomped his hoof as he leaned a shoulder...or were they flanks...whatever, into the wood rail and, with entirely more force than necessary, head-butted her solidly in the chest. For the second time in one day, she landed with a hard thud on her buttocks. The goose took advantage of the opportunity, and bit her thigh. "Geez!" Tiara scowled at the massive animal and then at the fowl. "Jayce teach you that move?" she growled. "You could just as easily be someone's supper," she cautioned the goose when he came in for a second nip.

  Being short, Tiara hadn't had far to fall, but it still hurt. She got to her feet and slapped at the dirt coating her jeans. "I suppose when Jayce comes to feed you, you'll all have a good laugh over this. Now, if you don't mind, I'll finish your fence. I hope the spaghetti guy does come and that he makes you into a plow horse. You're a pain in my..." she groaned, both instances too vivid in the throbbing of her backside.

  Not only was she still talking to them, she'd threatened both animals. "Congratulations. Now I'm a raving lunatic."

  Chapter Seven

  JAYCE POKED TESTILY at the baked potato on her plate. She wasn't hungry. The usual satisfaction she received from the succulent aroma of Aunt Edna's pot roast only made her nauseous tonight. Eating seemed to be out of the question.

  "Something wrong with supper?" Edna asked. Her tone implied it more for dialogue than any actual concern. Of course, there was never a thing wrong with the meal and her aunt knew it, having almost cleared her own plate, and Edna's palate being more culinary sensitive.

  Jayce expressed the expected compliment. "No, it's great."

  "Don't know how you can say that. You've hardly taken a bite." Edna pushed her chair back with a loud scrape against the hardwood floor. Jayce understood that Edna was peeved at the inattention. "Work my fingers off, cleaning and cooking, and what do I get? Heartache, that's what," Edna sobbed in mock misery.