Beauty and the Beastmaster - Linda Winstead Jones Page 0,40

to say, exactly how to touch her to chase the bad memories away. After they’d returned to the bed no other man, no bad memory, had entered her thoughts.

Would she ever have a full day where Blake didn’t intrude at least half a dozen times? Would she ever not be afraid? For a while last night she’d been free and fearless.

Silas had left without asking for another date, but he’d be back. He’d be back in her bed a time or two, or twenty. At least, she hoped so. Had last night been as special for him as it was for her? Or had he taken her momentary freak-out more to heart than he’d let on?

No matter what happened, she didn’t regret anything that had happened.

She could feel. She could connect with another human being. Her life had not ended the night she’d run from Blake, that last time.

Friday was usually a busy day for Gabi. She had three appointments on the books for the morning, and in the afternoon she’d visit The Egg and make herself available to the elderly men and women there. There was a small room set up for her in the retirement home, and for the manicurist who worked there weekly, usually on Tuesday.

During the past year she’d wondered more than once why everyone called the retirement home The Egg. The building wasn’t egg-shaped. She’d asked, once, while she was styling Helen Benedict’s hair, and had gotten several nonsensical explanations from the ladies present. They seemed to make a game of it, trying to outdo one another.

It had once been painted an awful yellow. They had eggs for breakfast every day. The building had been laid by a giant chicken. It was short for The Alabama Home for the Exceptionally Gifted, and since no one knew how to pronounce AHFEG they’d simplified. Whatever the reason, it was now and always The Egg.

Saturday was Gabi’s busiest day, most weeks. Sundays were an off day. Normally she didn’t do anything on her days off, but if the coming weekend was as mild and pleasant as today, maybe she’d brave a walk in the woods. Maybe she’d pack a picnic and walk all the way to the river.

Who was she kidding? She’d walk all the way to Silas’s place to check out where he lived. She’d use the excuse that Judge might be missing his old doggie friends, but the truth was she wanted more of Silas.

Did he want more of her?

Gabi unlocked the door of her salon and walked inside. An unexpected squeaking sound caught her ear, along with a rustling. She glanced to the back of the room, where the light from the front window barely reached. Afternoon sunlight reached the back wall, but in the morning, with the sun behind the building, it was a different story. In the dim light the walls seemed to move in a weird way that made her blink to clear her vision. Everything back there shimmered, somehow. She reached for the light switch, flipped it…

And screamed as at least a hundred mice scurried for the dark corners or climbed the walls.

Chapter 10

After getting a call from the ice cream shop Silas drove to town instead of taking the time to walk. Jordan Carter, ice cream maker, had been calm. The frantic woman he heard in the background had not.

He wouldn’t have taken Gabi for a woman to lose it over seeing a mouse or two, but she’d sounded as panicked as she had last night, when a bad memory had jerked her out of the moment and into the past. Maybe she was more delicate than she let on. Then again every woman, every person, had a right to their own fears. Apparently mice were one of hers. He’d take care of the rodent problem. As Mystic Springs’ critter guy, he’d done it before. Many times.

He parked directly in front of the beauty shop. Gabi stood by the window; Jordan was nearby.

In a matter of weeks Jordan Carter would become Jordan Benedict. She and Luke had been dating for a couple of months, and things were happening quickly with those two. He hadn’t heard many details about their wedding plans, but then again he was entirely out of the loop when it came to town gossip. He did know Jordan had been married before so she wanted to keep it simple, but the Benedicts had a tendency to do things in a big way. Maybe because there were so