A Majestic Affair Read online

  A Majestic Affair

  Copyright © 2014 by Sharon G. Clark

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Other Titles from Sharon G. Clark

  Other Yellow Rose Books

  About the Author

  Visit Us On Line

  A Majestic Affair

  by

  Sharon G. Clark

  Yellow Rose Books

  by Regal Crest

  Texas

  Copyright © 2014 by Sharon G. Clark

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The characters, incidents and dialogue herein are fictional and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Print ISBN 978-1-61929-178-2

  eBook ISBN 978-1-61929-179-9

  First Printing 2014

  9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Cover design by Acorn Graphics

  Published by:

  Regal Crest Enterprises, LLC

  229 Sheridan Loop

  Belton, TX 76513

  Find us on the World Wide Web at http://www.regalcrest.biz

  Published in the United States of America

  Acknowledgments

  To my wonderful beta readers: Linda A., Hope V., and Nancy Hoist, my heartfelt appreciation and gratitude for your assistance and input.

  To my coworkers: Linda Matthies and Diane Busch, for listening when I vent about my writing (and other things)-- nothing to do with our jobs.

  Thank you, too, Patty and Judy Kerr. You're fabulous editors who managed to keep me on task--without cracking the whip too hard.

  Dedication

  Special love for Mi' Corazon, Hopi, you'll always be my Boo. Also, for my son Jeremy, my other heart.

  Chapter One

  THE SEVENTY OR so miles seemed longer than Tiara remembered. Stuck behind the numerous eighteen-wheelers and tractors chugging along at turtle speed on the country roads hadn't helped her get there any faster. Neither had stopping for dinner at the small restaurant boasting of pure country charm on a sign attached to its entrance door. Nervous energy had made her hungry. The meal was the first in eight months that wasn't from a drive thru or heated up in a microwave.

  Tiara turned onto the county road marked MM, wishing she had a bag of them right now, with almonds, and headed east. Her father's property was six miles farther. She let up on the accelerator when a tractor, this one with a large round bale of hay, came into view.

  She groaned loudly. All she wanted was to get to her father's place, preferably before Christmas, and make the trip a quick one. It wasn't that she didn't love her father. She adored him, but being with him made her feel awkward, as if she couldn't do anything right. And he would ask questions about Angie that Tiara didn't want to answer.

  Above all, she wanted to lessen any chance of running into Jayce.

  Dusk sped toward darkness as her truck's headlights brightened the path. The tractor in front of her slowed and she hoped it was about to turn off the road. It wasn't. Inching left, Tiara tried to see if it was safe to pass and instead, saw another tractor and an RV coming toward her. As she waited for them to pass, her mind flashed on the memory of the last time she'd seen Jayce.

  Tiara had been fourteen, with a big case of puppy love. Even at seventeen, Jayce was a fine specimen of what the female physique could achieve and still be sexy. Unfortunately, Jayce's brain hadn't caught up to her body. Jayce's ideas of being pleasant during that last particular summer consisted of such antics as giving her a fish-gut bath, locking Tiara in a storm cellar, and dowsing her with sticky horse feed and straw.

  Of course, there was also the incident of the kiss...

  The tractor and RV had gone by and she had a chance to pass. She pressed down on the accelerator and skirted around the tractor. Tiara had driven less than fifty feet in front of the tractor when she realized she'd almost missed the road to Falling Down Acres. She jerked the wheel left and made a sharp turn onto the long dirt drive. She barely missed the mailbox tilting to one side on a four-by-four post. In her rearview mirror, she saw the red tinged dust cloud churned up by her speed on the dry gravel road.

  A quarter-mile of road later, Tiara came upon the dark house. She wondered if her father had gone to bed early or was possibly out for the evening. She stopped on a concrete slab beside the house, which she'd never seen before, and guessed it to be a driveway. Tiara shut off the engine and sat.

  Since her father had mailed her a key, she assumed he had anticipated the probability he might be away when she arrived. She had no idea how long Slim would be gone.

  Tiara's options were simple. She could sit in the dark truck and wait for an unknown amount of time, or grab her gym bag and go inside the house. The smartest course would be the latter.

  She walked up the stairs and onto the porch, dropped her bag by the door, and fished the key from her jeans pocket. Her actions were rewarded with a bright beam of light directed squarely on her face before she could pull the key free.

  "What are you doing here?" asked a voice too sultry to be her father's.

  "Going blind," she said, raising a hand over her eyes to see beyond the light. "Could you lower that a little?"

  "You didn't answer my question."

  "I don't do interrogations."

  The beam, though lowered from her face, slowly ran over the length of her body. With no moon tonight, Tiara could only make out a silhouette of a shapely woman.

  "Red?" the voice asked. "Is that you?"

  Tiara felt as if she'd been doused with iced water. No one had called her Red since she was fourteen, and then only by one person. "Jayce. What are you doing here?"

  "Keeping an eye on the place while Slim's away."

  "I thought--" Tiara wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer, but asked, "For how long?"

  Jayce didn't answer, but asked a question of her own as she turned the flashlight beam on Tiara's gym bag. "Do you plan on staying?"

  "I don't think that's any of your business."

  "Look, Red..." A heavy sigh. "I can let you inside."

  "I have my own key."

  "Maybe we can talk," Jayce said as if uninterrupted. "You can tell me why you're here."

  Tiara pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked the door. Twisting the knob, she pushed the door open, kicked her bag into the hallway, and turned to face Jayce. The last thing Tiara wanted to do at this moment was talk to her. Hit Jayce, maybe. Yell at her for making a fool of Tiara that summer ten years ago, definitely. Invite her in? Not if Jayce had a plate full of chocolate chip cookies.

  "Come on in," she heard herself say. Tiara mentally groaned. Why didn't her mouth ever agree with her brain? Maybe because Jayce knows more ab
out your father than you do, right now. Darn, she hated when common sense won over emotions.

  Jayce strode past her and entered the house first, switching on lights as she went. Tiara followed more slowly. Everything appeared to be about the same as when she'd lived here. Surprisingly, the inside was clean and in much better repair than the outside, especially for bachelor quarters.

  The living room consisted of a sofa and a matching chair in a burgundy striped design, a low oak coffee table, a worn leather recliner, and a large fireplace in the back wall. Above the fireplace sat a thick mantel cluttered with framed pictures coated with a fine layer of dust.

  One snapshot in particular caught Tiara's attention. She stood in front of it and stared. The picture was from their last summer as a family unit. Her father wore a broad smile with an ever-present toothpick poking out of his mouth and her mother showed her usual deadpan expression.

  Tiara pulled the frame down for a closer look. Her own eyes, they looked so--

  "Sad, weren't you," Jayce said from over her shoulder. She made it a statement, not a question.

  "I never realized it was this obvious." Stunned that Jayce had seen the expression too, Tiara was unaware of Jayce's hand on her arm until she leaned forward to replace the frame on the mantel. When Tiara turned to face her, Jayce let the hand drop back to her side, but Tiara could still feel the warmth left by the contact.

  "It hasn't changed," Jayce said in a low tone.

  "What?"

  "The sadness. It's still there."

  "Thank you, Dr. Mansfield, but I beg to differ. I'm happy and have a good life."

  Jayce tilted her head and studied Tiara. "Maybe," she said, after a quick assessment, a review that made Tiara's heart rate increase. "But you're not happy with your life, are you?"

  Tiara did her own evaluating. Jayce's eyes, still the same incredible blue, gazed directly into hers. She wore faded jeans, weathered cowboy boots, and a cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled above her wrists. Her dark brown hair was longer than Tiara remembered and neatly combed back and over her ears. She had a thin nose, slightly curved at the tip from being broken when she was sixteen, and sensuous full lips.

  Tiara didn't want to think about Jayce's lips. Thinking about them started the memories. Memories she desperately wanted to forget. Didn't she?

  Clearing her throat, Tiara moved away from Jayce and plopped down on the sofa. "I thought you wanted to talk, not analyze." She groaned. "You know, I think I like you better with a bucket of fish-guts. Why don't you tell me where my father is, so you can go away?"

  "I'm not that easy to get rid of, Red."

  Or easy to forget. Tiara shook her head roughly. "Don't call me that, I hate it." She closed her eyes, laid her head back against the sofa and threw an arm across her face. If Tiara ignored her, maybe Jayce would take the hint and go away.

  JAYCE HADN'T MEANT to annoy Tiara, but she'd given her the nickname over a decade ago. It suited her then, but as Jayce stared down, she realized Tiara wasn't a girl anymore. She'd grown up. Her height hadn't changed much, she was still petite. Her strawberry-colored hair had more gold than when she was a kid. Though Tiara had flung an arm over her eyes, Jayce could see the mass of freckles had disappeared, only a couple of strays remained on skin tanned a beautiful honey-brown.

  Until Jayce witnessed the sadness in Tiara's eyes a few minutes ago, she had forgotten about the gold flakes scattered in the gray depths. That wasn't right, exactly. She hadn't forgotten. Jayce had only let the memory hide away. Tiara's eyes were striking reflecting her every emotion. If the eyes were the mirrors of the soul, Tiara Summers had come home with the same personal inner-demons as those from many years ago. It wasn't Jayce's job to chase them away, so it might be better to find out how long Tiara planned to stay and then go home.

  "Okay, I'm sorry I called you Red." Jayce sat on the coffee table facing her, pulled Tiara's arm away from her eyes, and gave what she hoped passed for an apologetic expression.

  It must have worked, because Tiara grinned. "Apology accepted."

  "Now," Jayce said, "I don't know specifically how long Slim will be gone, so you don't need to stay here." What Jayce didn't say was how much she had missed her, how fantastic she felt seeing Tiara, and how much she wanted to beg Tiara to stay. "He asked me to watch over the place until he got back. I'll do just that."

  "I plan to stay as long as it takes to get a few answers," Tiara replied, jutting her chin defensively. "When I get those answers I'll go, but not until then."

  Jayce was confused. "Answers to what?"

  "The stuff in the note he sent."

  "You've heard from him?" That explained Tiara's return after so many years. "When?"

  "I don't really see where it's any of your business."

  "I do." Jayce shook her head slowly. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

  Tiara jumped up from the sofa, but the distance between them was minimal. All Tiara achieved was to shove her breasts into Jayce's face, not that Jayce minded. Tiara smelled good, like jasmine.

  Jayce slid sideways off the coffee table and stood. Tiara's face was deep red. The courteous thing to do would be to pretend the contact hadn't happened, but Jayce couldn't help herself. "That was great for me. How was it for you?"

  IF TIARA COULD'VE crawled into a hole at that precise moment, she would have; but the floor didn't open up and swallow her. "I've had a hard day and a long drive, and don't feel like playing games with you."

  "Then tell me about Slim's note."

  If it would make her leave, she'd tell Jayce anything--almost, anyway. "He said he's in trouble and mentioned a horse."

  "What horse?"

  "He doesn't have a horse?" Tiara gauged the answer from the surprised look. What game was her father playing? Could he have lied about his trouble, too?

  "He didn't last I checked. That was about fifteen minutes ago." Jayce grinned and Tiara wanted to slap the smile off her face. Tiara had left work for a wild goose--no, make that horse--chase.

  "Then I guess I can answer your earlier question. I'll be leaving in the morning."

  "It's probably best that you do," Jayce said.

  "Yeah, right." She moved to the front door and stopped. "Look, Jayce, I'm ready for sleep." Tiara had never gone to bed this early, at least not since she was a pre-teen.

  Jayce took the hint. She opened the door herself and stepped onto the front porch. Tiara was about to close it when Jayce turned around and stared at her. "Will your next visit be this long in coming?"

  Tiara clenched her teeth and bit back the response she wanted to shout. Jayce shrugged and stuffed her hands into her jeans pockets. "I know, I know, none of my business. Have a good night, Re--Tiara."

  "Whatever." Tiara watched Jayce disappear into the darkness. Then she shut the door and leaned against it wearily. What she needed was a hot bath. No, she needed cable, and wondered if her father even had a television. Was there one in the living room? She didn't remember seeing one. Then again, other things had been on her mind when she'd entered the house. What about munchies? She'd run out of Twizzlers on the drive here. Food of any sort would do. This would be a very long night if her father didn't have either.

  She knew of only one way to get answers and that was to search for them.

  Tiara went back to the living room. An old television sat in a walnut cabinet located beneath the picture window. "Yes. One quest down." She headed for the kitchen and pulled open the first set of cabinet doors. Numerous cans of tuna were stacked in rows of six and piled four high. Her father obviously liked tuna. She moved to the next cabinet and found canned soups, stews and spaghetti, three boxes of Corn Flakes, and a super-sized jar of green olives.

  "Gosh, Dad, now I know where I get it." She was about to give up and check the refrigerator when a pastel blue Post-it note on the pantry door caught her attention. Moving closer, she read: Tiara, for you. Love Papa Slim.

  She doubted he'd put the mysterious horse in there, but was hesit
ant to open the door. Finally, curiosity got the better of her. Inside was everything from cases of soft drinks, to cookies and chips. Tiara shook her head. How did he know she'd come? Or did her father eat like this regularly?

  She grabbed a bag of ruffled chips and a can of soda and closed the door with a quick swing of her hip. If Tiara didn't know better, she'd believe her father had set this whole visit up. Why?

  The answer came quickly and she didn't like herself for it. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't be here. He was probably as nervous as she was about their reunion, though she didn't understand the elaborate charade. Why didn't he just call?

  As if the thought were an omen, the phone by the refrigerator rang and she jumped, dropping the items in her hand. The chips fell with a crunch, the soda can a thud before spraying its contents wildly over the kitchen.

  Tiara cursed the disaster anticipating it would take the better part of a half-hour to clean up if she expected to avoid a sticky floor in the morning. She lifted up the receiver. "Hello?"

  Silence was her only answer.

  Chapter Two

  TIARA LISTENED FOR breathing or even some kind of background noise from the caller. She heard nothing.

  "Hello?" she repeated loudly into the receiver, in case of a poor connection.

  "Princess? You really came?" Her father sounded shocked. He shouldn't have been, not after the letter he sent. "I've missed you," he said.

  She missed him, too, but didn't have the courage to tell him. "Dad, please tell me what the heck is going on. You're not here, and neither is the horse you mentioned."

  "I know. He arrives tomorrow."

  "And when do you arrive?"

  He cleared his throat and Tiara could tell he was stalling. His next statement confirmed it. "I saved your collection."