SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (200 page)

Charlie returned with the vest. “Here it is, Jackson.”

That’s strange, Taylor thought, it looks just like the one he had on last night at the bar. Why would he special-order a vest that was exactly the same?

Jackson inspected the vest carefully as Charlie stepped away to assist another customer. She watched as he quickly located an almost invisible pocket built into the heavy lining. “Perfect,” he whispered, then called out, “hey, thanks, Charlie. Put it on my credit?”

“Sure, Jackson. Glad it meets with your approval.” Charlie waved and returned his attention to another customer.

Taylor watched as Jackson slipped the vest on and turned to leave. She shivered at his smile, this time more of a grimace. Her brow wrinkled into a frown and she shook her head. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

She made her way to the counter to pay for the clothing she’d chosen, keeping her head bowed, hoping to leave without any questions. With her purchases wrapped in brown paper and bundled up with string, she returned to the boardwalk to continue her journey to the Gaslamp Quarter Hotel.

Still deep in thought as she walked, Taylor looked up just in time to see the two-story red brick building on the corner. As Martha Reed had instructed, she went around to the back and knocked at the kitchen door. She stood for a moment, eyes closed, hoping a room would be available.

The door opened and her stare was met by the stern face of a large, Asian woman. Nearly as round and wide as she was tall, the woman’s small black eyes squinted at Taylor with distrust.

“Well, what do we have here? And what might
you
be lookin’ for?”

“Martha Reed sent me. Are you Maylee?” Taylor did her best to sound confident and friendly, though fatigue was setting in. More than anything she longed to rest and soak away her troubled thoughts in a hot bath.

“I am. And who are you?” Maylee stood motionless, arms folded on her chest, her ample bulk filling the doorway. She looked angry and unafraid, but still a little cautious.

“My name is Taylor Martin, and Mrs. Reed thought you might be able to find a room for me—I need a place to stay for…a few days.”

Maylee’s glare softened, her face breaking into a grin that instantly transformed her face into that of the Cheshire cat. “Ohhhhh. Well, if Martha thinks I can work a miracle today, I guess I just better try. You come in here and sit at the table. I’ll be right back.”

Taylor followed the woman into the kitchen and sat at the table.

Maylee returned in a moment, frowning. “I’m sorry, there just isn’t a spot I can put you here. Even the tiny room under the stairs is occupied. In a couple of days, though, some of the land speculators are planning to leave— they’ve filled us up for the last week and a half.”

Taylor looked away as her eyes filled with unexpected tears. Then she felt Maylee’s large hand on her shoulder.

“Taylor, you don’t happen to know anything about gardens and such, do you? Someone I know needs a caretaker for her flower garden—she just lost her regular man—and I know she let him stay in an extra room at the house.”

Taylor stared at the woman. “Sounds like a perfect solution. I’m sure I could handle a flower garden. Is it close by?”

Maylee grabbed her hat from a hook by the door and said, “It’s just next door, but I’ll have to walk over with you and talk to my friend. Let’s go.”

Taylor took a deep breath and gathered her things once more. She followed Maylee out the back door, struggling to keep up with the unexpected fast pace of the heavyset woman.

The two women hurried along the side of the hotel, then followed a narrow alley that led to a tall fenced area. Abruptly, Maylee stopped at the gate.

“Wait here.”

Taylor put her suitcase on the ground and hugged the bundled new clothes to her chest, wondering what she was getting herself into.

Maylee returned a few minutes later. A smile filled her face, and her eyes danced. “It’s all set. She’ll take you. The lady of the house will meet you in the garden and show you to your room. You just do as she asks, and you’ll be fine. Come see me in a couple of days if it doesn’t work out.”

Before Taylor could say much more than a quick thank you, Maylee was already on her way back down the alley to her kitchen.

Picking up her suitcase, Taylor pushed the gate open with her left hip, and backed her way into the yard. Then she put her suitcase on the lawn so she could re-latch the gate behind her.

Slowly, she turned around, her breath catching in her throat. Before her was more than just a garden space. It was an exact replica of the Victorian garden she had seen at the fair.

This can’t be real.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it Taylor?”

Her father’s voice reverberated inside her head as she walked up to a brand-new version of the same table and chairs she had seen in the exhibit at the garden pavilion.

The same two wooden chairs were there on either side of the table, though this time they were polished and new. A green leather-bound book was open on one chair and clean garden shears lay on the other. Exactly the same. A china tea set was on the table next to a plate of butter cookies. A vase held an enormous bouquet of flowers. Taylor picked up the shears, placed them on the table, and sat down, her stomach a little queasy from the impact of seeing the identical scene.

Taylor closed her eyes, and hoped her father was still with her.
Dad?

“You’re supposed to be here.”

A warm breeze blew and Taylor removed her hat. She ran her fingers through her hair and tilted her face to the late morning summer sun. She had to admit, she did feel safe in the garden.  And for no good reason, it
did
feel like she was supposed to be there.

A movement inside the house, caught Taylor’s attention and she stared at a woman peeking from behind a curtain. The face disappeared, then reappeared when she pushed open the door and made her way outside. The back door slammed behind her with a loud crack.

Taylor stood and quickly put her hat back on her head, watching the woman’s angry approach.

“What’s this—you put your hat
on
when a lady approaches? What kind of manners do you have?” The woman snatched the hat from Taylor’s head and tossed it to the ground.

Taylor’s gazed locked on the woman, studying her carefully. She was utterly stunning—with brilliant, glowing auburn hair carefully coifed in an elaborate style of waves and curls. The woman’s face was beginning to show the graceful signs of age, though not dramatically. The gown she wore was a rich, emerald green satin, with yards of black lace circling the hem. Her waist was tiny, and her generous bosom nearly burst from the low neckline. The woman’s complexion was pale and flawless.

“And you stare—lower your eyes young man, and let me see your hands.”

Taylor, still speechless, lowered her gaze a little and then obediently held out her hands.

“These do not look like the hands of a gardener.”

Pulling her hands away, Taylor looked up. “My father was an avid gardener and I grew up helping him—I know I can keep your garden looking wonderful. And I really need a place to stay.” Taylor met the woman’s gaze to gauge the response to her explanation and her plea.

“Well, sit down then, and tell me about yourself,” she snapped. “Maylee says your name is Taylor. So tell me, Taylor, exactly why a young woman like you is dressed in men’s clothing?”

Taylor gasped and stepped back, nearly falling over the chair behind her.

The woman quickly reached out to grasp her arm and helped ease Taylor into the chair.

“Relax. I’m ready for an interesting tale today. Have some tea and tell Ida all about it.” She smiled broadly, her gruffness disappearing immediately, as she poured two cups of tea, picked up her book and sat down.

“So far you’re the first to figure it out,” Taylor said, sipping her tea.

Ida laughed loudly. “Well, you might call me a specialist when it comes to men, and I’d have to say it’s obvious to me that you
aren’t
one. Are you running from the law, perhaps?” She smiled at Taylor over her cup of tea.

“No, no...nothing like that.”

Ida’s voice was tender when she spoke again. “Well, I truly need a gardener, Taylor, so I’ll let you stay for now. All I need is for you to keep the garden neat, weeded, and watered. It’s my greatest pleasure, to be able to come out here and enjoy quiet moments when I need them. Do you understand?” Ida smiled at Taylor and reached out to touch her cheek. “Now, don’t worry. You’ll be safe here.”

“Thanks—”

“I’m Ida Bailey,” she interrupted, “and I’m the proud Madame of Sherman House. I have thirteen girls working here in this class establishment.” She paused, then added, “Do you know what I mean, Taylor?”

“I think what you’re saying is—”

“Yes, Taylor, my girls are working girls. But they’re all good girls, and I allow no smoking or cussing in my house. And the men who come here are expected to be gentlemen, or I introduce them to the curb. We have an elite clientele—bankers, attorneys—why, even the famous Marshall Earp visits now and then.”

At the mention of Wyatt’s name, Taylor blushed and smiled. “I really appreciate your taking me in, Ida. I’ll work hard for you...in the garden, I mean.”

Ida smiled back. “I have a feeling you will. Taylor, you look to me like you might want to freshen up a little, so finish your tea and gather your things. Follow me.”

Taylor gulped the last of her tea, retrieved her suitcase, hat, and parcel, and followed Ida into the house. They walked through the large kitchen to a narrow staircase.

“These are the servants’ stairs. You can use them to come and go, and be out of view,” Ida explained as they climbed to the second floor.

The top of the stairs opened into an elegant hallway. “And this is the main bathroom.” Ida pushed open the large door on the right.

Inside, Taylor saw a large tin bathtub and a wood stove. There was a pump and sink next to the stove, and shelves stacked with thick, white towels.

“The water closet is in this other room,” Ida said, as she pointed to the narrow door across the hall. And your room is here, next to the bathroom. It used to be a storage room, but I think you’ll find it comfortable enough.” Ida pushed back heavy drapes that hung in the narrow doorway, and Taylor followed her into the small room.

“My old gardener left some clothes in the wardrobe. They’ll probably fit you—he was a small man.” Ida went to the window, opened it, and a warm breeze filled the room. “You can see the shed from here. You’ll find all the tools you’ll need in there.”

Taylor gazed at the garden. From here the flower beds looked immense, and she realized she had her work cut out for her.

“Oh my, the day’s already getting warm. Perhaps you should just acquaint yourself with the yard, and this afternoon you can enjoy a bath and a rest. How does that sound?”

Taylor put her suitcase under the small bed, then opened her bundle of new clothes. The cozy room would be just fine.

“I’ll go through my extra closet and see if we can come up with some dresses and pretty things for you—that is, if you want to wear something other than men’s clothing.” Ida squinted at Taylor, as though evaluating her figure.

“I’d like that. I did buy this skirt and blouse on the way over here, though,” Taylor said as she hung both in the wardrobe. Next she neatly folded the man’s shirt and slacks and placed them on one of the shelves inside along the right side of the wardrobe.

“Well, you’ll need something a bit dressier for dinner, at least. I’m sure I can find an outfit or two that I’m not using. We eat dinner rather early here—at five,” Ida said, “and our evening of business usually begins at seven or so.”

Ida and Taylor exchanged one last look. Taylor smiled her thanks feeling grateful Ida’s questions, at least for the time being, were minimal.

Taylor pulled a pair of thin cotton trousers and a lightweight tunic-styled shirt from the wardrobe, work clothes left by the previous gardener. Perfect for yard work, she thought, and undressed. She rolled up the cuffs on the pants and tucked in the loose shirt. Well-worn boots were on the floor next to the bed, which fit fine when she put on two pairs of her own socks.

She made her way down the stairs and out to the garden. Inside the shed she found a pile of dirt-caked tools, a watering can, and an old, battered straw hat. She put the hat on and carried the tools outside to clean. Finding a stiff wire brush in a wooden box behind the shed, she scrubbed each tool until they all gleamed. After discovering a hammer and some rusty nails, she made a place for each tool on the walls of the shed so everything could be neatly hung. There, she thought, now she could at least find what she needed.

“My, that looks wonderful,” Ida exclaimed.

Taylor jumped at the sound of her voice. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were there.”

“I’ve set the table with sandwiches and lemonade. Help yourself and enjoy the rest of the day, Taylor. You’ve earned it. Feel free to take a bath before dinner. Oh, and I’ve put some things in your room for you to try on.” Ida seemed quite pleased at Taylor’s efforts to put the tool shed in order. “I’ll see you at dinner, dear.”

Ida returned to the house and Taylor sat down to her lunch, surprised at her appetite. Thoroughly satisfied, she carried her empty plate and glass to the kitchen, then quietly made her way up the stairs back to her room.

As she reached the top of the stairs, Ida’s loud laughter rang through the hall.

“I declare, Jackson Hoyt, you’re the only man I know who only comes here for the hot water—and not to get in some.” Ida giggled at her own joke. “And you won’t even take me up on my offer of a free girl your first time. You are a strange one, Jackson.”

“Ida,” Jackson groaned, “all I want today is a hot bath and some peace and quiet.”

Taylor took two steps back down the stairs to stay out of view.

“Now, I know you are partial to brunettes, Jackson, so you just say the word when you get a hankering’.” Ida chuckled as she walked away.

Taylor heard a door open and close, then she noiselessly made her way to her room.