Complicated Matters Read online

  Is he jealous? She watched as he sipped the drink. “How much vodka did you put in that punch?”

  “Why, Miss Mathews.” He shot her a playful grin. “Do you think I’d serve vodka to an under-aged lady?”

  “I-I wasn’t suggesting anything.” She became agitated as she poured herself some of the punch.

  “You’re kind of cute when you’re not in control. What’s on the agenda tomorrow?”

  To get you out of my life. “I’m hoping that Mr. Winthrop will allow me back on my farm.”

  Taylor wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Why don’t you call him Deputy Winthrop?”

  “I don’t know.” The deep tone of his voice made her nervous. “I’ve always called him Mr. Winthrop.”

  “I guess you’ve known him for a long time, huh?”

  “He’s one of Dad’s friends. His daughter, Annalise, and I play--make that played-- basketball together. She’ll be a senior next school term.”

  “I guess around here, everyone pretty much grows up together and then marries their high school sweethearts.”

  She touched the tan line on his ring finger. “Is that what you did?”

  He stared at his hand. “Yeah.”

  “I see a tan line but no wedding band.” She watched his face, as he stared at his hand. “Are you divorced?”

  “Widowed.”

  Her stomach lurched. “I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t know.”

  “When?”

  “One year, six months, and nineteen days ago.”

  He counts the days? The house seemed to shrink. She wished she knew when to keep her mouth shut. Her mother would never had made such a stupid mistake.

  He got up and started loading the dishes into the dishwasher. “I took off my wedding band when I hit town. I didn’t want the local busybodies wondering where my family is.”

  She snapped the lid on the salad and set it back in the refrigerator feeling guilty about intruding on his private life.

  He turned on the dishwasher and headed for his bedroom. “I’m taking a shower.”

  She wandered into the living room and studied his guitar. How could so much passion come from six metal wires and a pile of wood? She wondered how much of Taylor’s soul was infused in that music. Lost in thought, she traced the smooth body of the instrument with her fingertips. She wondered what is was like to be cradled by Taylor. Would he bend me to his will? Could he ignite that kind of passion in my soul?

  Ted wanted her, but all she felt under his touch was “no”.

  “I left plenty of hot water.”

  Farrah couldn’t take her eyes off him when he returned wearing sweat pants, and no shirt. He wasn’t a big man, but his muscles were well defined. She let her eyes scan his hairless chest and follow his body down to his narrow hips. He was tan all over

  His face turned red. “I’m not used to anyone being around. Let me grab a t-shirt.”

  “No need to apologize.” She moved away from his guitar. “It is your house.” She backed into his couch. “Do you think you could teach me to play?”

  “Sure.” He grinned. “Just as soon as I get a shirt on.”

  She watched him leave. The lines defining his muscles reminded her of a roadmap. She wondered where she would end up if she followed that map.

  Feeling embarrassed about admiring him when she was supposed to be committed to Ted, she got off the couch and looked out the living room window. People walked up and down the sidewalk oblivious to her spying on them.

  Taylor came back into the living room and picked up his guitar. He sat down. “You’re going to have to sit on the couch with me.”

  She turned toward him, but didn’t come to the couch. Her fantasies had gotten way too out of hand for comfort.

  His eyes danced. “I’m not gonna try anything.”

  Without saying a word, she sat next to him. Her body stiffened when he put his arms around her. She felt intense heat radiating from his body and inhaled his scent. Unlike Ted, he wasn’t grabby. She wasn’t sure she’d object if he did put any moves on her.

  “Are you sure I’m the one who should be teaching you?” He put her left hand on the neck of his guitar, and put a pick between her forefingers and thumbs.

  His pulse was fast. Her back sizzled as his chest touched her. She wondered exactly what she wanted him to teach her. “I’ve never played an instrument before.”

  “And you’re not going to play one tonight if you don’t relax. He pressed the fingers of her left hand on the appropriate strings, and used her right hand to strum with the pick.

  The feel of his touch made her clumsy. Her clumsiness embarrassed her to the point where all she could think about was putting distance between them. Why can’t I be like a normal woman and enjoy this experience?

  Her mind argued with her body. She wanted to stay next to him. To bask in his warmth and his scent. But her reflexes were to run.

  He removed his hands from hers. “Maybe, I should just draw you a diagram.”

  “What’s wrong?” Farrah attempted to press the strings the way he showed her.

  “Nothing, except you’re wound tighter than my guitar strings. Keep practicing while I try something else.” He got up and started drawing on some computer paper.

  “There you go.” He presented her with all the cords complete with hands showing which fingers go on which strings. “All the knowledge and none of whatever is making you so tense. Good night.”

  “Good night, Heath.” She practiced for a few hours and went to bed. The wall separating the two bedrooms was paper thin. She listened to him moan throughout the night.

  She managed to get a little rest, but woke up when she heard him screaming, “Lianna.”

  The pained tone of voice panicked her. She squinted as her eyes adjusted to the light she had turned on her bedroom.

  Taylor’s screams became louder and more agonizing.

  Farrah made her way to the bedroom next door. She turned on the living room light and opened his door. In the dim light, she could see him thrashing about in a bed of tangled sheets.

  Tears streamed down his cheeks from closed eyes. He wore no shirt. His half-naked body was sweaty from his uneasy slumber as he hugged his pillow.

  He called out Lianna’s name, asking her why she left him, as he held his pillow.

  “Heath, wake up.” Farrah eased her way to his bedside to wake him. She read somewhere it was dangerous to wake a person from a nightmare. But he seemed to be in so much agony she couldn’t let him stay in that torturous dream.

  “Come on, Heath.” She shook him. “Wake up.”

  “Lianna.” His eyes opened, but it was as if he were looking right through Farrah. “You came back.” His smile was gentle. His expression softened. “I missed you.”

  He reached out and grabbed Farrah’s hand. As he pulled her closer, he encircled her waist with his arms. “Promise me this is forever.” He engulfed Farrah’s mouth as his rough hands. “I love you, Baby.”

  Goosebumps covered her body as he explored her body and tore at her clothing.

  This wasn’t how she wanted her first time with a man to be. He was talking to his dead wife. “Heath, wake up.” She pushed against him with all her strength.

  He kissed her neck.

  She freed one of her hands and started slapping him. “Wake up, Heath. I’m not Lianna. I am not Lianna. I am not your wife!”

  “Farrah?” He released her. “I would have never--” He touched his hand to the stinging side of his face.

  Farrah stood in the corner of his bedroom trembling as she attempted to readjust her clothing. In the living room, she fantasized about kissing him. But knowing he was so much in love with another woman, all those feelings were obliterated.

  “I thought you were--I’m sorry.” He ran his fingers through his hair as he took a swallow of whiskey. “The dream was so vivid. I thought you were her.” He set the bottle back on his dresser.

  “You were having a night terro
r. I tried to wake you up.” She placed a chair next to his bed and sat down. “Waking you was a stupid, but you looked like you were in so much pain.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that. I nearly r--”

  “But you didn’t. Would you like to talk about her? Sometimes it helps.”

  He picked up the whiskey bottle and gulped it. “She was killed on our six month wedding anniversary. I called to say I was getting off at midnight, so she went out to get some rocky road ice cream.”

  He rubbed his face with his t-shirt. “Some repeat drunk was out getting more beer. They met at the intersection of Hell and Damnation. He was driving a Suburban and she was driving a Camry. She had the green light, and he plowed right through the red. And it was all because, of that damn ice cream.”

  “Why was the ice cream so important to her?” Farrah wasn’t meaning to pry. She was just trying to understand.

  “We were young, married, and in love. Sharing a bowl of rocky road ice cream in bed was one of our little traditions.”

  “But why?” Farrah put her hand over her mouth as soon as she asked the question. How stupid can I get?

  “Do I really have to connect the dots for you?” He reached for the whiskey, but she slapped it out his hand. The amber fluid spilled onto the carpet.

  “I need you sober.” She kicked it under the bed. “And Lianna deserves better than this.”

  “What do you know about what she deserves? You don’t know her at all.”

  “Your wife was killed by a drunk, and her husband has become one. Is that any way to remember her?” She stared at the picture of a beautiful Spanish lady that sat on his nightstand. A knee-length white dress clung to her body as the wind blew her long, black hair. She wore no veil. A single lily flower adorned her hair. “That’s her wedding picture, isn’t it? Are you folded underneath?”

  “You don’t know a damn thing.”

  “Don’t I? I could feel the love in your touch when you thought I was she.”

  He got up and looked out the window. “Go back to your room, girl.”

  Farrah removed the picture from its silver picture frame. He and Lianna were standing on a powder white beach. Greenish-blue water lapped at their bare feet, and seemed to touch the azure sky at the horizon. They looked so happy; she in her white dress, and he in his Hawaiian shirt and white jeans. “You two had so much together.” She forced him to look at the picture.

  A single tear fell from his dark eyes onto Lianna’s beautiful face. “And now I have nothing.”

  Farrah wiped the tear with an old napkin. “Yeah, living is the hard part.” She dried his eyes and cheeks. “You said we were friends. Friends help each other.”

  “And just how are you going to help me?” His voice was harsh and unmerciful.

  “I can listen to your insults as the alcohol leaves your body. I can hold your hand if you need me to. If you’ve been doing this for long we’re in for a hard night.” She straightened his covers for him to lie down. “And I can watch over you, while you sleep.”

  He sat down on his bed. “And how are you gonna fight me off when the dreams come back?”

  “I won’t have to.” She smiled and sat the chair closer to his bed. “You won’t let it get that far again.”

  He lay back down. “You sure have a lot of faith in one drunken cop.”

  “I have a lot of faith in my friend.”

  All night long she watched him wrestle his demons. Sometimes he screamed for Raf, but mostly he called for Lianna.

  Farrah wiped his face and body with cold washcloths and turned up the air conditioning. She realized the most she could do was cool him off. The demons were his to fight alone.

  He seemed to be getting better after sunrise. He thrashed about less and slept more peacefully.

  She went into the kitchen and made toast and coffee, then brought the food to his room. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better.” He sat up. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

  “I was hungry and needed some coffee.” She set the tray down on the nightstand. “Do you want some?”

  He reached for one of the coffee cups with a trembling hand.

  She helped him steady the cup. “I didn’t know how you took it.”

  “Usually with a shot of whiskey.” He smiled. “But somebody decided to use my bottle for carpet cleaner last night.”

  “Yeah, about that.” Farrah sipped from her own cup.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He returned his coffee cup to the tray. “Is some of that toast for me?”

  “Yeah.” She got up to leave. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

  “Please don’t go.” His face turned red. “I mean, we can finish our breakfast together. It’s been so long since I’ve talked with anyone this early in the morning.”

  She nibbled on a piece of dry toast. “I assumed the only time you woke up alone was when you chose to.”

  “You give me way too much credit. How did you know how to handle the situation last night?” He swung his legs off the bed and put his feet flat on the floor. His boxer briefs pulled tight against his muscular thighs.

  She gulped her coffee trying not to look. “I have an uncle who likes to show up to get a little help in that particular area.” She finished her coffee. “Do you think I’ll be able to go home today?”

  “What’s wrong? Are you getting tired of my company already?”

  His smile gave her an uneasy feeling.

  “Of course not. I just get the feeling that you would rather find some more pleasant company. I overheard you ask Mr. Winthrop about where to look for a good time.”

  “I thought we were having a pretty good time last night. I even enjoyed our little exchange of insults.”

  Feelings emerged inside her she didn’t think she had any right to feel. She picked up the tray and started for the door. “It’s getting late.”

  “Farrah?”

  She flinched when he grabbed her wrist.

  He let her go. “Are we okay?”

  “Yeah.” She left the room.

  *

  “He isn’t yours,” she told herself as she thought about the way he held her during his dream. “That was all for his wife.” She dressed in her loosest shirt and a pair of old faded jeans. She tied her hair into a work braid and donned a pair of dirty sneakers.

  A loud crash came from Taylor’s room.

  “Heath.” She raced to him.

  He stood next to his bed facing a wet spot on the wall. A smile covered his face making him more handsome than normal.

  The room reeked of the stench of whiskey.

  “I had one last battle.”

  She knew he was going to be all right. She packed her things and carried them outside.

  The sky seemed a little bluer as she waited for Taylor next to his patrol car with her bags on the ground at her feet. Nothing was going to be the same as it was before. She was never going to be the same again.

  Chapter 13

  The sun glistened on her golden-blonde hair. It was the color of hay. “Is this your way of telling me to stand down?”

  “An AC-DC t-shirt, and old sneakers?” She flashed him a weak smile. “Sheriff Taylor, why aren’t you in uniform?”

  “I have the day off, and thought I might be able to give you a hand.” He grabbed her gear and put it in the trunk of his Camarro.

  She got in the passenger’s side of his car. “You don’t know the first thing about farm work.”

  “You could teach me.” He looked around and noticed he had forgotten his computer and jacket. “I better lock the patrol car.” He tossed everything in his gym bag and put it in the trunk of his Camarro.

  She turned toward the window. “I imagine there’s very little I could teach you.”

  Things between them had to be settled. If she wasn’t going to say something, he’d do it. “Farrah, about last night.”

  “I realize you weren’t doing that for me.” She turned her back to him. “Could we just dr
op it?”

  “You can cover up everything about yourself, but that doesn’t change who you are.”

  She turned back toward him. Anger flashed in her blue eyes. “Don’t pretend to know who I am.”

  “I know you showed me how strong you were last night.” He touched his hand to the side of her face. “Then you demonstrated how compassionate you could be. That says a lot.”

  She lowered his hand.

  “And just in case you think you’re so great at hiding things, I also know you don’t want to stay stuck in this town.”

  “That’s one option I don’t have.” She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles. “Mom and dad are counting on me to do the right thing.”

  The previous night he thought he was kissing Lianna. One taste of Farrah’s lips told him they were two entirely different women. In his heart he still loved his wife. His body wouldn’t let him forget how good Farrah felt. “You don’t even talk like the locals. How can you want to be here?”

  “Hello?” She snapped her fingers in front of his face. “I don’t have a choice. Alex and Jess deserve better than foster care.”

  “Surely you have other relatives.”

  “We were never close to any of them. I’m all my brothers have.”

  The car felt too small. The ride felt too long. He had to get out of there and wondered if Farrah felt the same way.

  They arrived at the farm and Farrah grabbed her stuff and tossed it on the front porch. Without a word to anyone, she raced to the tractor.

  “You two not getting along?” Winthrop asked Taylor.

  “Wrap it up, Deputy. I want a detailed report this afternoon.”

  The old deputy saluted Taylor. “Sir, yes sir.”

  Chapter 14

  With all the key players under his personal surveillance, Taylor decided to visit the swamp. He pulled off to the side of the road and retrieved his gym bag from his trunk. His entire life, he had been fascinated with gadgets. A long time ago, he invested in a GPS blocker. If anyone needed him they were going to have to take his word for his whereabouts.

  The swamp made him uneasy. Unusual sounds surrounded him.

  Taylor knew the difference between an alligator’s call and a bullfrog’s croak. The latter was somewhat amusing, while the former sent blood-curdling chills down his spine.