Closer To You (Tales of the Sweet Magnolia Book 1) (9 page)

“I’m being serious.” She faced toward the window, staring out at the barren desert. Heat radiated off the horizon, baking the ground until it cracked. Her soul felt just like that.

His gentle fingers touched her shoulder and she turned to him. She couldn’t look at him.

“Then again, I’m not sure that would make me very comfortable either.” “Don’t say such things when you don’t mean them.” She glanced at him.

He slid his fingertips under her chin. “Look at me.”

“You seem a bit confused about what you want.” She swallowed. A stinging sensation pricked the back of her eyes. She couldn’t do this.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. “What are you looking for, Lil?”

What the hell? Why not lay her cards on the table? “Well, it seems I have this problem, Sheriff. You see, I don’t want just
any
man.”

His gaze narrowed. He knew what she was about to say.

“I want
you
.”

She noted the slight bob of his Adam’s apple. “I never said I wasn’t attracted to you.” His calloused palm moved over her bare shoulder and slid without hurry up the curve of her neck to rest finally on her cheek.

She looked at his rugged, handsome face—a face she’d decided that she could get used to seeing every morning. But perhaps he wasn’t the one fate had in mind for her. “I understand, I do. Nevertheless, it’s only temporary. I know how you feel. I’m not the kind of woman you’d think of settling down with—raising a family, going to Sunday church.” She was challenging him, but better he accept how he really felt about her than to deceive himself or her with untrue feelings. “That’s not true,” he whispered and curled his hand around her neck drawing her forward to place a kiss on her forehead.

“You said as much to me not less than ten minutes ago.”

He rested his lips against her temple. “You make me crazy. I wasn’t expecting this.”

Heat radiated from his body, blocking the airflow between them. She could barely breathe for wanting him. “You make me crazy, too.”

“What did you mean with all that talk about being a librarian and wearing cardigans—what is all that gibberish?” Jake slid his hands to her elbows drawing her to the chair. He sat down and pulled her to his lap, looking up at her with an earnestness that made her hopeful that she might be able to explain to him her theory about the necklace. Maybe if he understood that being a Madam was only a fantasy in another life, not really who she was, he might feel differently about her.

“Okay, but promise me that you’ll hear me out with an open mind.”

He regarded her with his serious expression. “I’ll do my best.”

She took a deep breath as she smoothed her hand over his shoulder. “What if I told you that I really am a librarian from the future?”

He reacted far better to the news than she expected, or he was sidetracked with the heated kisses he was pressing to her neck.

“Right now you got my head in such a spin, I think I’d believe anything you told me.” He crooked two fingers over the edge of the towel covering her breasts and gently tugged it down, letting it fall around her lap. “Doc says I’m all healed.” “I’m serious, Jake.”

He stared at her and this time it was obvious he understood she wasn’t kidding around. “Listen I don’t know where all this came from, but I’ve always known you as—as, well, the madam of this, uh…the Sweet Magnolia.”

“I’m not making this up. I’m telling you the truth.” She searched his face, hoping that something would click and he would see with clarity why she was there—that destiny, fate—whatever it was called, had brought them together— that they were meant to be together.

Jake eased her from his lap and stood. A frown marred his brow and his lips

were drawn on a thin line. She’d seen that closed-down, stubborn look before. He didn’t believe her.

“Listen, I have some things in town that require my attention.”
Or you’re avoiding the issue
, she thought.

He bent down, plucked up her towel, and wrapped it awkwardly around her. She clamped her arms down, clutching it, confused by his strange behavior. “You might say something,” She insisted. 

He cleared his throat and stared down at his feet. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“That you believe me would be a good start.” She grabbed her robe, feeling far too vulnerable in the towel and slipped it on, cinching it at the waist.

He blew out a breath. “I’ve heard some pretty far-fetched stories in my life, but this one is a tad hard to swallow.”

“A tad...a tad hard to swallow?” She laughed. “I came home from a long day at work and peeled down to my skivvies to cool down from the heat of the apartment because the super hadn’t bothered to fix my air conditioner and for an instant, an instant…I close my eyes. The next thing I know I’m being was awakened by some cowboy who reeks of leather and horses, beating down my door to tell me that my girls are violating some rule about shopping in town.”

She took a deep breath, letting it out in a frustrated sigh. A palatable silence followed her tirade.

“Now let’s look at things with a clear head, here,” he suggested amiably, but Lil was far from feeling amiable. “It’s possible that what happened, you know, between us, maybe caused you to have these ideas, these,” he hesitated,

“hallucinations.”

Really? “No Jake, I am not hallucinating this.”

He continued as though he hadn’t heard her. “Maybe you need some rest from your duties here. A few days up in Carson City? Some fresh mountain air? Let

Paddy take care of things for a while around here….”

Lil stared at him, not believing what she’d heard. He thought she’d gone over the edge and was having a breakdown—because of him. Lord in heaven. “You listen here….” She walked up to him, squared her shoulders and looked into his fabulously, dark, yet, frickin’ amazing eyes. “If you think that I just made this up out of some delirious episode due to you and me—” she waved her finger under his nose “—well, you are not as bright as I thought.”
There
. She nodded punctuating her thoughts.

“Your need some rest. I can hear the tension in your voice.” His smile meant to be friendly irritated her even more than his cockamamie idea. The platonic pat on her arm made her thirst for blood. He sent her a pointed look. “Think about it.” He tipped his hat and quietly left, leaving the door open wide.

“You’d probably leave the seat up on the toilet…if you had one,” she called out angrily. He tossed her a casual wave but didn’t look back. Lil gritted her teeth and stormed back in the room, slamming the door so hard that it bounced back open, and she had to walk over and slam it shut again.

“The future?” Jake chuckled quietly, shaking his head as he glanced through the packet of papers he’d received by express from the state governor giving Jake his support for the appointment to Deputy Marshall. But Jake’s mind over the past few days since leaving Lil hadn’t been on his future. Though he ought to be ecstatic to have the governor’s backing, the truth of the matter was all he could think about was Lilly.

And his body burned.

Jake’s mind whirled in a sea of confusion. Lillian was like no woman he’d ever met. Being away from her had given him perspective. He realized that she possessed an inner strength that most women he knew didn’t seem to have—a fierce independence and yet she had a vulnerable side that didn’t always add up to the independent and bawdy image she tried to portray. The woman was a quandary, there was no doubt, and had a body for sin. Jake sighed and leaned back in his chair, exhausted from lack of sleep.

“Problem, Sheriff?”

Jake’s eyes sprang open. He didn’t remember seeing the prisoner in the cell when he’d come in an hour ago. Then again, his mind wasn’t exactly where it ought to be these days. He heaved a weary sigh and leaned forward, shuffling through the papers that he had little interest in reading. “Nothing that I can’t handle, old man.”

The prisoner sat on the threadbare cot, his hands fisted over his knees. He’d probably been a bit rowdy at the saloon the night before. Nate, his new deputy appointed while he was incapacitated at the Magnolia, must have brought him in.

He seemed fairly harmless.

Bored with his thoughts, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to stay on task, Jake spoke to the prisoner. Maybe idle chatter would help to take his mind off Lillian. “What brings you to my jailhouse, friend?” Jake didn’t look up. His eyes scanned one of the paragraphs outlining the Governor’s new plan to rid his state of unsavory types that would prevent the good citizens from settling peaceably and to forge budding new mining towns.

“I hear tell they found gold around here,” the stranger replied.

“That’s a fact. You looking to cash in on some of that by illegal means?” Jake shot him a side glance. The old man wouldn’t have been the first, nor would he probably be the last.

The old man chuckled. “Nah, do I look like an outlaw to you, Sheriff?”

Jake raised a brow. He had a point. He couldn’t have been over five foot, if that. His hair was silver and he wore it in twin braids, indicative of many of the older tribesmen who lived in the Sierra Mountains. His clothing was simple, though plain, with his baggy brown pants, a plain white collared shirt and a dark brown vest. And his leathery skin, etched by deep lines from weather and age gave him an unusual wide-appeal. He peered at Jake with eyes the color of a mountain lake, and his scruffy white beard parted when he produced a friendly smile. Not exactly the kind of face you saw too often on a wanted poster. Truth of it was, Jake couldn’t pinpoint why the docile-looking man was in his jail cell. Still, looks could be deceiving, Jake silently reminded himself.

He pushed from his chair and the squawk of old wood echoed in the silent jailhouse. In need of a good cup of stout coffee himself, he figured it wouldn’t do any harm to offer a cup to the old guy. He looked a little thin, like maybe he’d not eaten in a while. When Nate got in, he’d have him go over to the hotel and get the prisoner some breakfast. He pulled a tin cup from the nail holder on the wall and poured a cup of coffee. That should hold him until he got some food. “So how’d you land in here?”

“Same I suspect as others that come through here. Just a might unruly.”

“Unruly, eh?” He had a mental picture of what kind of unruly behavior the little guy could muster. Jake smiled as he handed him the tin mug. “Here, this might help take the edge off last night.”

“Much obliged.” He took a careful sip and smacked his lips. “That’s hits the spot. Mighty fine cuppa joe, sheriff.” The old man studied Jake. “It would appear that you’ve got a lot on your mind. Anything you care to talk about? Sometime it helps to talk to a stranger ‘bout your problems.”

Jake blinked from the man’s mesmerizing gaze. “I haven’t got any problems.” Not any he wished to discuss at any rate.

“I can understand your denial, my friend. I’ve seen many like you in my travels.”

Jake did a double-take. Who was this guy? “So you’re some kind of doctor, then? A medicine man?” He could see that now as a possibility in his speech and eccentric hair and clothing.

“I’m a musician…a piano man.”

“Is that right?” Jake’s mouth curled in a wry grin. Yeah, there were a lot of dangerous, unruly types in Deadwater.

“I’m not the person most people see me as, Sheriff.”

His body came to a sudden halt and Jake spun on his heel, starting at the man.

“What did you say?”

The old man shrugged and his long white braids shrugged with his shoulders. “Guess most folks have more to them than one side. Leastways, I’ve found it to be true. How about you? Would you say there are sides to you that no one knows about?”

“What are you getting at?” Jake had the odd feeling this man was tapping into his thoughts.

“No need to get riled.” The man smiled pleasantly.

Jake sensed that “riled” was exactly what he’d hoped to achieve.

“A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do, I guess.” The old man took a sip of his coffee. “Good brew—stout, the way I like it.”

Jake studied his prisoner, trying to remember where this conversation had gotten turned upside down.

“I suspect the same goes for anybody—male or female. But having another side doesn’t necessarily make ‘em a bad person, now does it?” The stranger kept a steady gaze in what seemed a powerful duel of wills. An uncomfortable niggling assaulted Jake. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the old man knew what had happened between him and Lilly. But that was absurd; Jake had never seen the strange man in town before. How could he know? It was simply coincidence, nothing more. “What’d you say your name was?” he asked.

“Got any more of this? I need just a splash more if there’s any left.” The prisoner held his cup through the bars.

Jake walked over, picked up the pot, and poured the man a refill, shooting him a curious glance.

“You see, I’ve always believed that sometimes we get so caught up in what we want, that we sometimes can’t see what’s best for us. Does that make a lick of sense to you, Sheriff?”

Had his father planted this guy to remind him of his responsibilities to his office after his three-day hiatus at the Sweet Magnolia? To be sure, tongues had been wagging around town about the incident. Most of the townsfolk had nodded their hellos and increased their pace, but he’d heard the muffled snickers behind his back. And although he hadn’t stepped foot in his father’s church yet, he was sure that his recuperation story had found its way, somehow to the pulpit. Though Jake considered many times going to speak to his father, there was always a better reason for him not to. Not that Jake felt what he had to say to his father would have any bearing on the preacher’s view of the Magnolia. Its residents had been the fodder for the cantankerous old preacher’s sermons for years. His father, it seemed had spent most of his clerical life driven to destroy everyone and everything connected to the Sweet Magnolia and more than once in his life, Jake had questioned his father’s vehement pointing out of its sins to the exclusion of all others.

He returned the pot to the wood stove and was about to ask the old man how he knew so much about people for just a piano man, but was interrupted when the front door burst open and Nate Stiles stood in the entrance with an enthusiastic grin plastered on his face.

“Sheriff? Got a minute? I just got the list for the dinner with them big wigs up in Carson City. Thought you might like to see who’s on it.” Not only had Nate been commissioned as his deputy, but had become one of Jake’s strongest supporters in his bid for Deputy Marshall. Knowing the right people, having a stellar record as sheriff, and a willingness to uphold the law was monumental in the appointment process.

His mind still in a tangle from the cryptic conversation with the prisoner, he held out a hand and took the paper from Nate. Focused on the impressive list of dignitaries, Jake walked back to his desk and sat down. A dull ached throbbed at his temple and he kneaded it gently trying to find relief from it. These people held his future in their hands and he’d worked long and hard to get their approval. His dedication and perseverance had garnered the backing of the Mayor and his followers and they too, looked forward to claiming that one of their own had achieved the status of Deputy Marshall. 

“Mind if I have a cup of coffee, Sheriff?” Nate asked.

He didn’t bother to look up. There were only two mugs in the jailhouse and he’d given the other to the prisoner. “Sure you can rinse out my cup, and Nate, we can let this guy go when he’s finished. Make sure you take him over to the hotel and get him a hot meal.” Jake frowned, his thoughts drifting to something the old man said.
“I’m not the person you see
….”

“Um, sir?”

Pulled from his reading, Jake raised is head to meet Nate’s and follow it to the cellblock. It was empty. Jake’s gaze shot to the where one cup hung on its hook.

“The old man? Where’d he go?”

“Sir? What old man?” His lanky deputy walked over to the cell and scanned the inside. “There’s no one here, Sheriff.”

He leapt from the chair and strode to Nate’s side. “I was just talking to him…just before you came in.”

Nathan shrugged. “I can’t say, sheriff.” He shrugged. “I just know that I haven’t made any arrests since you been out there locked up at the Magnolia.  “I wasn’t ‘locked’ up. Besides, Doc gave the orders.” His deputy nodded, but hid his smile.

Jake scanned the room, looking for some reliable evidence that he wasn’t going crazy.

“Maybe its residual delusions from your injury,” Nate offered.

“I was shot in the
ass
, Nate, not my head.” Where the devil did that old man go? The barred window, too high and far too small to crawl through, was intact. It would take a stick of dynamite to free a man from this cell. “You’re sure you didn’t lock up an old guy with silver braids? He wore a vest and baggy pants— called himself a piano man?”

Nathan eyed Jake as though he’d grown another head. “Pretty sure. I’d

remember a guy that sounds like that.”

“Dammit, this has been the strangest damn week. You’ve no idea.” Jake paced to his desk and then to the front door.

“Well, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so, I heard tell that when you jumped that gunman, you whacked your noggin’ pretty hard in the fall. That’s got to jar a fella’s thoughts, don’t you suppose?”

Jake glanced over his shoulder, considering the truth of Nate’s words. In which case, he had no business being back to his duties. And if he wasn’t on duty then that meant he could go talk some more to Lil and see if he could make any sense of what the hell was happening to him. He grabbed his hat and left his gun on the peg by the door. “You’re in charge, Nate, until I get back.”

“But what about your response to this dinner?” Nate called after him. “It’ll have to wait.”

***

Lil had had about all of this bizarre fantasy that she could stomach. An afternoon storm, matching her mood. It rumbled through the valley, darkening the skies. The air was thick and hot as the black clouds began to roll in, blotting out the sun. Lil fished through the trunk that held her few clothes and found her leopard print ensemble that had caused Sheriff Sloan’s eyes to fill with lust the first time he saw her. She stood for a moment, breathing once more the sweet scent of prairie grass before a rain, and then closed the window and pulled the shade. Methodically, she moved about the room returning it as best she could to the day she awoke at the Magnolia. She folded each piece of additional clothing she’d acquired since and tucked it in a trunk that she hid behind her dressing screen. There was no guarantee that her plan to return home would work, but she had to try. She plumped the red satin pillows, stopping a moment to inhale the exotic scent Jake left behind on the fabric. Perhaps this had all been a lovely dream, kept alive by her desire to win Jake’s affections, but it was clear where they stood with each other. Without hope of a future with him, what reason did she have to continue in this blissful dream-like state? It was time to let go.

Shrugging off her robe, she draped it carefully over the end of the bed and crawled onto the mattress, sinking into the cloud-like softness of the array of pillows. A sudden panic jolted her upright and she looked around the room in a last ditch effort to capture these memories, hoping that she would be able to hold on to them. She wanted to remember each moment with Jake, knowing that they might be all she had to keep her warm when she was old. Gooseflesh rose on her skin, and she squeezed her eyes shut; her hand clasped around the amulet at the base of her throat. Her scattered thoughts found solace when she pictured Jake’s gentle eyes, the warmth of his skin against hers. If there was ever someone that could fill all her specifications of a lifelong mate, it was Jake Sloan. Her breathing slowed, her fear slipped away as she focused on his face, and she wished with her entire being that things could be different.