SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (213 page)

“So, you grew up with only a father. Was this...close by?” he asked.

“Jackson, I can’t tell you where. In a different place, though. That’s why I find this place so interesting. And why I ask so many questions.”

“Yes, you do.” He chuckled. “Well, tell me about you, then. What does your future hold? Do you plan to stay here or go back home—wherever that might be?”

She paused a long moment before answering him, saying, “I’m honestly not sure. My stay here depends on…lots of things.” Her voice grew softer as she added, “Right now, all I care about is today. Here and now. And getting to know more about you...and about us,” she continued, her tone a bit tenuous.

Us
. The word settled in the air between them as she declared her intentions. Or had she?

Jackson stiffened in response to Rose’s affirmation. Ida was right, he thought, she certainly is different. Fast moving. Unpredictable. But was she trustworthy? Honest? Time would tell.

In the silence, Rose’s stomach rumbled loudly. Jackson laughed in response.

“I’m famished. Are you ready to go back and see if there’s anything left of the picnic?” she asked.

“Sure, let’s go.” Jackson helped her to her feet and stepped forward, clasping her body close to his. Perhaps it would be his final opportunity. If so, he refused to miss it.

As she relaxed into the cushion of his arms, he was almost painfully aware of where his flesh touched her skin. He dropped his lips to her neck, then kissed a path to her cheek, and finally to her mouth. As he caressed her lips, she returned his kiss, lingering, as though savoring every moment.

Breathless, Jackson pulled away, his heart thundering madly. Explosive currents raced through his body, ending where his groin throbbed agonizingly. The degree of desire she created in him was downright intimidating. How could he be so undisciplined? A warning voice whispered in his head and aroused old fears and uncertainties. He had to remember who...and what...she was. After all, making a man crazy with desire was her expertise. Enjoy what you want, he commanded himself, and keep her at arm’s length.

Clearing his throat, he hoping to at least gain control of his voice before speaking. “We’d better go, or they’ll wonder where we are.”

He was hungry for her all over again. His body told him that. His brain told him to convert his appetite to one for information, instead. What he needed more than anything else was learning more about her.

Perhaps it was Ida’s turn to answer his questions.

Forever Rose: Chapter Seventeen

“Well, here they are after all. The girls and I were just about ready to come searching for you.” Ida inspected both Jackson and Rose carefully, noting her rosy pink cheeks and his pleasantly tousled hair.

Rose sank down on the blanket next to the picnic basket, reaching inside for a napkin. Ida had placed the food on the blanket next to it—thick slices of bread, canned preserves, chunks of cheese, crisp apples. Quickly, she made a cheese sandwich and sunk her teeth into it as though she hadn’t eaten for a week.

Ida turned to Jackson, suppressing a grin. “Been doing some exploring, Jackson?”

Jackson’s face colored fiercely and he sighed with exasperation.

“Perhaps you had better tell me about it...come over here and sit with me. I’ve made an extra sandwich.” Ida wrapped her arm around his elbow, firmly directing him to a blanket a few yards away. “No arguments, now...”

Jackson passively allowed Ida to lead him away, but not without glancing over his shoulder where Ida noticed Rose was gaily chatting with two of her girls.

“So, tell me, Jackson. Have you and Rose finally become friends?” Ida watched Jackson carefully for reactions. She observed his hesitation, but also how his mouth curved into an unconscious smile. She knew his answer before he spoke the words.

“I suppose so. But, I don’t really know much about her. Ida, how well do you know her?”

She watched as he involuntarily clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes and smiled to herself as he spoke. Their recent lovemaking hovered around him like a cloud of expensive perfume. She’d been right. These two were meant to be with each other. Alone together, their attraction had been impossible to resist it seemed. She envied the potency of the sensual energy they had shared. Still, she sensed Jackson’s reluctance to believe in his emotional response to Rose. She also sensed an underlying anger. In an instant, his expressive face had changed and become almost melancholy. Something was wrong.

“Ida, tell me about Rose. What do you know about her? Where did she come from?”

Ida forced a demure smile. “And just why do you want to know?”

“I need to know who she is, that’s all. Nothing sinister. It’s just that I feel she’d hiding something, something important. I don’t want to get mixed up in anything right now that...”

“Ah, but you already are, aren’t you?” Ida responded matter-of-factly.

When he spoke again, his voice was tender, almost a murmur. “I just need to know what I’m getting into. She’s different, like you told me before. I don’t need this kind of...distraction right now.”

“Perhaps you do, Jackson. I’ve never seen you this content before. You come to Sherman House a couple times a week, and I’ve never seen you smile like you do when you look at Rose. Think about it. What are you afraid of? Happiness? Having a little fun? Falling in love?”

Scowling, Jackson stared back at her.

Ida waited in silence. She’d finally struck a nerve in the secretive Jackson Hoyt.  Seemed to her he was the one doing the hiding. “Jackson, tell me what’s wrong. You know me. You can trust me.”

“I know, I know. Nothing’s wrong. It just seems awfully peculiar that she just showed up, you know? She told me that she didn’t know you until you offered her a room. Then she said something about not planning to be here at all, that being here was some kind of mistake.”

“What else did she say?”

“She told me her mother died when she was a baby. Her father died some years ago. She learned gardening from him. That’s about it.” Jackson paused, finally taking a huge bite of the sandwich she had handed him. He may not know many details about her, but she would gamble Sherman House that he knew Rose’s body intimately, and she guessed maybe the imbalance bothered him.

“That’s about all I know as well,” she told him. “But…you see the two girls she’s talking to?” Ida nodded toward Rose. “Audrey told me that Rose healed her burn with ice chips instead of butter. Lizabeth was there and confirmed it all. She thinks that Rose is some kind of healer, though when she asked Rose, she wouldn’t admit to it. Maybe she’s afraid to let on what she is or who she is. I don’t know. I do know that I like her, and I agree with you. I think she’s hiding a great deal, but it doesn’t seem like it’s dangerous.”

When Jackson turned away from Rose she noticed his expression relax at least a little. He stared out to the sparkling water that was softly lapping at the sandy shore. She hoped he believed her and would let whatever was bothering him go. The man deserved a little happiness.

Ida continued, saying. “I went to her room the other night because I heard her sobbing in her sleep. I stayed with her for a long time, until her breathing deepened and her crying ended. Perhaps she’s run away from someone who’s abused her, mistreated her in some way. Maybe there’s some kind of sadness she feels. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I think you should just follow your heart, Jackson. You don’t get many chances for real joy in life.”

“Have you noticed how she asks a lot of questions? Like she’s investigating, almost. And she doesn’t know things that she should. Tell me you haven’t noticed that.”

“I know what you mean,” Ida agreed. “I still say there’s nothing to worry about. Enjoy yourself. Enjoy each other.”

Jackson stood up abruptly, brushing the bread crumbs from his legs, then walked away from Ida without a backward glance.

Ida sighed, a heaviness settling in her chest. Her instincts warned her that Jackson’s struggle to admit he cared for Rose was his worst adversary. She hoped Rose would persist and draw out the secrets that Jackson, too, concealed.

* * *

“Audrey, your face looks fine, just a little pink. You should keep a hat on today, though, to keep the sun from the area.” Taylor inspected Audrey’s face. The ice had been successful in keeping her fair skin from blistering.

“I’m extra careful now with the hot water,” Audrey reassured her, “and I’m so grateful for what you did for me.”

Lizabeth nodded in agreement.

Taylor smiled at the two girls. They couldn’t be more than eighteen. Audrey was the depiction of femininity; her long blonde hair flowed from a center part and tumbled carelessly down her back. Lizabeth, in contrast, had a wealth of dark coffee-hued hair that hung in long graceful curves over her shoulders. They were beauties. Very young beauties.

Taylor leaned forward, and asked in a hushed voice, “Will you tell me something?”

Both nodded.

“Why do you do what you do?”

“You mean...with men?” Audrey blushed and then giggled. “It’s not so bad, really. And what else could we do, anyway? Lizzie and I came here to be in the theater. When it didn’t work out, Ida rescued us right off the street. She’s good to us, too. We make a good salary and she doesn’t let any of the men take advantage of us.”

“Ida’s taught us what to do and what to say,” Lizabeth added. “She has rules and she makes the men follow them—not like in the Stingaree district. Gambling house whores aren’t classy like us.”

“But, what else do you want to do with your life? You know you can’t do this forever, right?” Though Taylor empathized with the girls’ plight, her stomach still soured at the sound of the easy acceptance of their circumstances. It seemed as though they honestly didn’t know what else to do.

Audrey shrugged dismissively.

Lizabeth, though, squared her shoulders and said, “This is only temporary. And we’re saving our money, all right.”

“To do...?” Taylor leaned forward, trying to make the girls feel comfortable, hoping they would feel that her questions were less an invasion of their privacy and more an illustration of her concern.

This time, Audrey replied, saying, “The truth is, we’re really not good at anything else.”

“I can’t believe that’s true. Tell me about what you enjoy. What do you like to do when you’re not working? We’ll start there.”

“Well, Audrey sings like a bird,” Lizabeth volunteered. “That’s why we thought we could be in the theater here. The day we tried, though, there were a hundred other girls who sang just as well. And, truth it, most of them didn’t last anyway. Most of them are working just like us.”

“Audrey, what were you good at when you were younger?”

“When I was in school, I used to help my mother keep the books for my father’s laundry business. I guess I’m good at...numbers?”

“Good. And you, Lizabeth. What are your dreams?” Taylor watched as her face began to glow, and a secretive smile softened her lips. Instinctively, she felt that with a little encouragement, long-ignored aspirations might surface again for the two girls.

For an instant, a wistfulness stole into her expression and with a deep breath, Lizabeth began to speak, her voice hushed, saying “Back home in San Francisco, I used to help my uncle in his photography studio. I learned everything from him—using the camera, posing the people, developing the film. It’s the only thing that I really miss.”

“So...one of your dreams is to be a photographer?” Taylor observed the shock of realization sparkle in Lizabeth’s eyes.

“But, I’m a woman. I can’t—”

“Nonsense. You’re a perfect pair—two beautiful and talented business women. You could open a photography studio, maybe specializing in women’s photos. Audrey, you could handle the accounting and the appointments. Lizabeth, you could make
anyone
look beautiful. I’m telling you, people would be happy to pay for a flattering photograph. What do you think?”

Audrey and Lizabeth exchanged looks of interested amazement, then looked at Taylor in surprise.

“Rose, do you really think we could do it? Have our own business? Be our own bosses?” Lizabeth said the words tentatively as if testing the idea.

“But how would we get started? It still sounds impossible to me—I just figured if we could save enough to go back to San Francisco, that’s all we had to look forward to.”

Taylor knew it was difficult for the girls to see further than that simple plan. Just trying to get back home must have seemed hard enough. “First of all. Tell Ida what you have in mind,” Taylor began.

“But, she’ll laughs at us,” Lizabeth interrupted.

“I guarantee you she won’t. She’ll be sorry to see you go, but I’ll bet she’ll help you. She knows people. She’ll probably know of an empty storefront you could use.

Both girls stared at Taylor as they clenched and unclenched their hands nervously.

Next,” Taylor continued, “why don’t you go into town and talk with Mrs. Reed at the café? She runs the restaurant with no man around, and I’ll bet she would be willing to give you some good start-up advice. My father taught me to reach out to successful people and ignore those that discourage you. You’ll be surprised at what you can accomplish when you just make up your mind to try.”

“Rose, you’re wonderful!” Lizabeth declared. “I never would have reached so high. It just never crossed my mind to think we could own a business.”

Audrey lifted her chin, and tossed her hair back in a gesture of assurance. “Let’s go for a walk, Lizabeth, and talk about our future.”

Taylor watched as the girls ran to the water, bursting with upward spiraling confidence.

“Pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

Startled to hear her father’s voice, Taylor almost choked on the last bite of her sandwich.

“Those two young ladies are going to go far. You’ve kindled quite a flame.”

Taylor felt, rather than heard, her father’s voice fade into the distance—just as though he had walked away from her toward the shoreline.

Grabbing the last apple, Taylor walked to the sand, hoping she could reconnect with her father.
Dad?