Time Tantrums (20 page)

Frank heard only bits and pieces. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing.
Doesn’t matter.
I was complaining again. Did I mention I also hate wind?”

He chuckled, but kept a wary eye on the sky. He wondered where they might seek shelter if it became necessary. There wasn’t much between them and home.

The force of the wind grew stronger, swaying the buggy from side to side. Gert struggled against the headwind. Frank reached under the seat and grabbed the poncho. “Here, you’d better put this on. It looks like I misjudged the storm’s arrival.”

Taylor pulled the heavy woven material over her head. “This isn’t exactly the fashion statement I wanted to make.”

“Well, it’s only you, me and Gert, so I wouldn’t worry about it. You might wanna fetch the blanket and wrap it round your legs.”

He’d barely finished his sentence before the rain started. Blowing in front the front, it drenched Taylor’s face and soaked the blanket, but at least the poncho afforded some protection. Ahead, Frank spied an outcropping of rocks just high enough to provide some respite from the torrential rain, or so he thought. Despite the canopy, the wind continued to blow rain in from front and side. Water drizzled from the brim of his hat. “Well, this wasn’t a great idea. I hoped to keep you from gettin’ wetter, but I see there’s no reason to sit here. We may as well keep movin’. At least we’ll be getting closer to home.”

Holding his hat with one hand to secure it from a sudden gust of wind, he snapped the reins with the other.
“Giddyap, Gert.”

* * * *

Frank reined Gert to a halt next to the porch. “Go ahead and get out. I’ll be in after I dry this old mare off a bit.”

Taylor threw off the soaked blanket and, wrestling with her drenched skirt, tried to alight. It was as though her legs had developed a second skin. The poncho had provided little protection from the driving rain. Water cascaded from her soaked bonnet and sent little rivers of water snaking down her face. She stood in a puddle on the porch and laughed. “I appreciate the courtesy, but I don’t think walking from the barn would have made much difference.”

 
“Well, give me credit for
trying
to be a gentleman. I’m sorry the ride home was so awful.”

Leaving a trail of water in her wake, she stepped inside the house, stopping on the braided rug inside the door. She hugged herself.

Oh thank goodness.
To be warm again.

 
She stripped herself of her wet garments where she stood then carefully carried them across the kitchen floor, and put them in the laundry tub. Grabbing a towel, she bent over and let her wet tresses hang free while trying to remove the excess moisture. “The only thing worse then red hair is wet, red hair,” she mumbled.

“Ahem,” Frank announced from the back door. “You do know I’m in the house?
 
I have to admit I like the view.”

His voice startled her. The chemise she wore left very little to the imagination and her position obviously displayed far too much. She quickly straightened and wrapped herself in the towel. Her cheeks heated.

 
“Well, I do now. Please take your wet stuff off before you cross the floor. Remember, I just mopped.” Listening to herself speak, she wondered when her personality changed to fit her new face.

He stepped out of his boots, stripped off his blue jeans and shirt and stood in his long johns. “What do I do with my wet clothes, ma’am?” he asked.

“Put them here in the wash tub—and be careful where you drip.” She tried not to laugh at him.

He tiptoed across the floor. “My, my, haven’t we changed. I can imagine what you would have told me to do with them a couple of weeks ago.”

“I told you I’m mellowing. I figure I can’t explain what’s happened and I can’t control where I am, but I can try to keep my sanity. There could be worse places to be.”

“Well, thanks a lot.”

“You know what I meant. I’m very thankful you’ve been so supportive. I know this has been just as hard on you. Every morning, when I wake, I wish I could explain all this away.
I’ve run everything through my mind a million times and still come up with
nada
, nothing, zip!”

“I suppose all three of those words mean the same thing?”

“Oh dear, you’re starting to figure me out.”
 
She chuckled. “You do have to agree since I’ve been
here,
you have learned some new words.”

“That’s for sure, but some I prefer not to use.”

“Listen, I’ve toned it down a lot.”
 
She reached for a kitchen towel and wrapped it around the ends of her drippy hair. “You have no idea how bad it could have been.”

They both laughed. Taylor gazed into Frank’s eyes and realized they’d just shared something. “Look at us. We’re laughing like nothing is wrong.”

“I know, it actually felt good, didn’t it?”

She nodded. “But that doesn’t change things, does it? We can enjoy each other as long as we understand we’re married to other people. I know it must be hard for you because I look like your wife, but as handsome as you are, you aren’t my David—and I miss him.”

“Believe me, I do understand. You may look like my Mariah, but I’m finally seeing you’re really nothin’ like her.”

“Really?
 
And how are we different?”
 
She was pretty sure she already knew.

“Mariah is a prim and proper lady. I’ve never heard her say a cuss word. Even when she’s mad at me, she won’t argue. You’re a tad bit too spirited and mouthy.”

Taylor put her hands on her hips. “Mouthy? You haven’t even seen the real me.”

“From where I’m standing, I see quite a bit of you.”

She glanced down and realized her towel had fallen to the floor. “Gee, I guess I have become way too comfortable with you.”

He chuckled. “It appears that way. Why don’t we change into something comfortable, have a bite to eat and talk a little more? This is nice.”

“Okay, deal. Last one up the stairs has to cook.” Before she finished the challenge, she darted for the staircase, leaving Frank standing in the kitchen.

“Hey,” he called after her. “I said we could have a bite to eat. I didn’t say I would cook.”

Taylor reached the landing, laughing and out of breath. He had no idea how lucky he was to lose the contest.

Chapter Twenty-six

Dr. Ramone pulled the draperies closed, making her office even darker. She showed Mariah to the chaise along the wall. “Please lie down and get comfortable.”

Doing as instructed, she reclined but fidgeted, trying to find the right position. She gazed up and grimaced at the ugly painting hanging above her and wondered why someone would frame a bunch of circles and splashes. With eyes closed, she willed her heartbeat to slow.

At the sound of the doctor pulling her chair closer, Maria stiffened. She expelled a silent breath. What had she agreed to?

“Now, my dear, I want you to listen very closely.”
 
The woman’s tone helped Mariah relax. “Are you comfortable?”

Mariah opened her eyes and nodded. “Yes.”

“Listen to my voice and do as I say. I want you to focus on deep and even breathing, feel each inhalation flowing through your entire body.
Starting with your toes.
Pictures them in your mind, then sense the muscles under the skin relaxing, and let your toes feel free.
Now moving up to your ankles.
Notice any stress in that part of your body, and as you listen to my voice, feel that tension go away.”

“Now, we’re traveling up your thighs, into your hips. Let any tightness fade away as you relax your muscles. Everything is limp. Feel that sensation moving up, up, up your body. When I count to three, I want you to close your eyes and be totally relaxed. You
will
 
answer
my questions freely, without fear. You’re safe and nothing can harm you.
One… two… three.”

Mariah wasn’t sure she wanted to proceed. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but they obediently closed. The doctor’s voice commanded and Mariah’s body obeyed. She couldn’t move her arms, and her legs felt leaden.

“Mariah, do you hear me?” Dr. Ramone asked.

“Yes.” Her voice was a mere whisper.

“We’re going to travel backwards. Time is reversing before your eyes—rolling back. Still relaxed and safe, I want you to look closely as the years pass and tell me what you see.”

“Frank. Oh, Frank darling.”

“You see someone named Frank? Who is he?”

“He’s my husband.”

“What’s he doing?”

“He’s helping me into the wagon. We’re going to town.”

“Are you alone?”

“No, our children, Callie and Jacob, are in the back.”

“What year is it now, Mariah?”

“It’s 1872 of course.”

“Where do you live?”

“In Colorado.”

“Are you in the wagon?”

“Yes, and we’re leaving the yard. We’re leaving the Rocking C.”

“The Rocking C?
Is that what you call your home?”

“Yes. The C stands for Cassidy.”

“Okay, Mariah, you’re in the wagon and you’re going to town. Tell me what’s happening?”

“Jacob has to go to the bathroom.”
 
Fear gripped at Mariah. “Oh my goodness, he frightened some snakes... The horses…the horses won’t quiet down. Frank, make them quiet down. It’s scaring me.”
 

“Relax, Mariah, you’re safe. Relax and tell me what you see,” Dr. Ramone spoke in a soothing voice.

Mariah took a deep breath but her heart pounded like the hoof beats in her mind. “The horses…they’re running... running fast. Frank can’t stop them. Yes, yes, Frank, I’m holding on. Hold on, children. Oh dear God, we’ve hit something. Help me...”

Dr. Ramone touched Mariah’s arm, “Deep breath, Mariah, relax. We’re going to stop now. When I count to three, you’ll open your eyes and remember everything we’ve talked about, but you’re going to feel fine.
One… two… three.”

Mariah blinked a few times.

Dr. Ramone put her pad and pen aside, got up and opened the draperies. Muted light filtered in through the sheers. She turned to Mariah. “Do you remember what we talked about?”

Mariah sat, put her feet on the floor and fluffed the back of her hair. “Yes, my heart is still pounding like a hammer on an anvil.”

Dr. Ramone looked at David, sitting quietly in the corner. “Mr. Morgan, what do you think about what you heard?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes wider than usual. “Her recounting sounded so real, even my heart is pounding. There’s no way she could imagine all this, is there, Doctor?”

“Not in my opinion. Hypnosis is usually very hard to fake, and people in a total state of relaxation tend to be very truthful—even if they don’t want to be.”

David stood and walked to the window. Pushing the sheer curtain aside he peered out for a moment then turned to face Dr. Ramone. “What do you make of it? What’s your opinion?”

The therapist sat back down. “I’m not sure I have one yet. This is even a little startling for me. In Mariah’s mind it really is 1872. I think I need to digest this a little more. What say we stop for today and make another appointment to take Mariah back where we left off?”

* * * *

David pulled the car into the garage and hit the button to close the door. As usual, he came around to let Mariah out. “Well, here we are. How are you feeling?”

She planted both feet firmly on the cement and stood. Her knees still felt weak. “No more confused than I was, but no less either.”

He opened the back door and followed her inside. “Do you think Dr. Ramone helped at all?”

“Do you?”

David went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of beer. “I could use one of these. Would you like one?”

“No thanks. I tried one.
Don’t
much like the taste. I think I’ll stick with Pepsi.” She reached around him and grabbed a can. “So, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Think Dr. Ramone helped the situation?”

“I’m not sure. It was certainly… stimulating to watch you undergo hypnosis. I’ve never seen it done before. How did it feel?” David popped open the beer bottle and jumped up to sit on the counter.

Mariah filled a glass with ice and emptied her soda into it. After a drink, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “It was strange. I heard her talking to me, saw everything so clearly in my mind, yet I could only do what she asked of me.”

“Do you have a problem going back again?” he asked. “Remember, we have a second appointment day after tomorrow.”