Chapter One

Palm Springs, California

Frank Mosely stood to the back of the elevator as it conveyed him down to the lobby of the Grand Regency Hotel.  Ever laid back, he checked his watch, noting the hour and about how long he had before it was time to leave his friend's wedding reception and head on out to the airstrip where Jason O'Malley would be picking him up.  As an instrumental of a familiar Dean Martin song softly filled the elevator, he couldn't help but notice his own reflection in the highly polished surface of the elevator's interior.  The satin trimmed tuxedo that he had recently purchased, upon the insistence and with the help of Belle Jenkins (formerly Rogers), was truly transforming.   He had never before felt so dashing.  As he brushed a bit of lint from his lapel, he had to admit that he felt like some kind of spectacular in the tuxedo, a thought that caused him to smirk in chagrin at himself.

The elevator door dinged softly as it slid open after arriving on the third floor.  Frank looked up to greet the in-coming passenger to see that it was the attractive young woman from the reception he had been admiring from afar from the first moment he saw her outside the ceremony hall this forenoon.  She looked to be in her early thirties, her dark brown hair in an up-do which added to her height. She had fair skin and dark brown eyes, and was wearing an evening gown made of a shimmering black plum silk that swayed and flowed around her slender frame.  And she now held a modest, crocheted shawl in a color that didn't seem to go with her attire. 

Like I'm an authority on fashion, he teased himself.  I wear a tan uniform six days a week.

The pretty, young woman started when she saw him standing there in the elevator.  For just the briefest moment Frank thought he saw a softness in her expression.

Well, I asked You for an opportunity to meet her, Lord, and here it is, Frank smiled at her.  "Good evening," he said as she boarded the elevator.

"Hi," she replied rather curtly and turned around to face the now closed door, the softness completely gone as if it had never been there.

Maybe she's having a bad day, he reasoned as he attempted to engage her again.  "Are you enjoying the reception?" 

"Yep," she answered sharply without turning her head.

Strike two, he nodded.  Maybe I should just let this one alone, he mused briefly as he found himself giving her a compliment.  "That's a very pretty dress."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she turned her head and glared at him.

Strike three and I'm out.  "Nothing derogatory.  Just thought it was a very pretty dress and you look nice in it," he explained and then shut his mouth.

"Whatever," she said as she rolled her eyes and looked straight ahead once more.

Ding.  The elevator came to a stop in the lobby and opened the doors.

Saved by the bell, he thought as he followed her out of the elevator.  He saw her glance behind as she walked back towards the reception hall.  "Don't worry, lady.  I won't follow you or bother you any more," he said under his breath as he made a turn and headed for the front desk.

He didn't quite understand what had just happened there with her as he had beforehand only witnessed her kindness and friendly manner with the other guests at the reception, and had decided that she was the kind of gal he'd like to get to know. 

Maybe I look too intimidating or something, he wondered as he straightened his shoulders and then shrugged it all off when he saw the young bellhop he had befriended over the weekend.  "Trevor!" he called to him.

"Yeah, I mean, yes, Mr. Mosely?"

Frank smiled.  "I'm planning on leaving in an hour or so,” he said as he glanced up at the large clock that hung in the hotel lobby to check the time, “and I was wondering, when you have a few minutes, if you would bring down my bags from my room and have them waiting for me so I don't have to go back up," he asked as he handed Trevor the room key.

"Sure thing, Mr. Mosely," the bellhop saluted him and then took off to help a couple with their luggage.

Frank grinned after the kid and then finished his short walk to the concierge.

"May I help you, sir?" the silvery haired man in his mid-fifties asked him.

"Yes.  I would like for you to get my bill ready— room five-sixteen.  I'll be leaving in about an hour," he answered him.

"Checking out early, I see," the concierge commented.  "I hope everything was to your liking," he delicately inquired.

"Yes.  Everything was very nice," Frank consoled the man.  "But a ride is going to be coming this way and offered to pick me up, so I thought I'd take him up on it.  Get home a little earlier.  Monday cometh, you know," he smiled at him.

"All too well, sir," the man acknowledged with a nod and a grin.  "I'll have your bill for you when you're ready to leave."

"Thank you," Frank said and then headed back to the reception, noting the open door to the insurance convention across the hall and the roar of laughter from one of the speakers who had obviously just told a joke.

Stepping into the doorway of the reception hall, Frank took in the scene before him.  It didn't take him long to spot the lady in the black plum dress as she sat talking with an elderly, white haired lady who now had the light blue crocheted shawl around her shoulders. 

So, she had gone up to the older lady's room to get a shawl for her, he surmised as he noticed that the shawl went with the older lady's dress much better than with the pretty, yet angry, young woman's dress.  She seems so nice— from a distance, he thought as he watched her again, wondering what exactly he had done to disgust her so.  I guess I must really not be her type.  

"And where have you been?"

Frank turned to see a lawyer friend of his, from his time on the Sacramento police department in days gone by, standing next to him holding a glass of ginger ale.  "Packing and getting ready to check out, Bill."

"You're gonna leave already?" he seemed shocked.

"In a short while.  I got an unexpected flight out of town, so I'm gonna take the opportunity to get home sooner rather than later," Frank explained.

"You workaholic, you!" Bill reached out and wrapped his arm around Frank's neck and gave a friendly squeeze.

Frank laughed.

"It's probably for the best though," Bill took a sip of the golden colored liquid.

"Why's that?" Frank bit.

"Because my darling wife has been planning on introducing you to one of her friends."

"And what's wrong with that?" Frank wondered.

Bill took a breath and seemed to be trying to weigh some words.  "There's nothing wrong with it in and of itself, it's who she wants to introduce to you, my painfully single friend."

Frank chuckled softly.

"No, I am serious," Bill turned to him full on now.  "I have seen the scarred and bloody trail of men this woman has left behind her— Oh! here she comes," Bill said when he spotted his wife coming towards them.  "You might just want to run for it now."

"I'm not running, Bill."

"Suit yourself.  But remember, you were warned," he hoarsely whispered to Frank just as his wife stepped up to them.  "Hello, love of my life!" he greeted Myrna exuberantly.

"What have you been telling him, Bill?"

Bill's expression was that of a deer caught in the headlights yet he tried going with the innocence act.  "What do you mean?  I've just been talking to my old pal, Frank.  That's all."

"I know you were talking to him.  What I want to know is what were you telling him?"

Bill him-hawed and shifted his weight.

"You were warning him about Dinah, weren't you," she stated.

"Well—“ he shrugged his shoulders.

"I knew it," Myrna said and then turned to Frank.  "What did he tell you?"

Frank looked at Bill who was fervently shaking his head and mouthing "Don't tell her".

Frank grinned.  "He told me to run."

"Oh, thank you," Bill muttered.

Myrna looked up at her husband and glared.  "What am I going to do with you?" she shook her head.

"Sorry," Bill mouthed to his wife.

Exhaling sharply, Myrna turned to Frank and began to explain.  "Don't listen to what this knucklehead said, okay?"

"Okay," Frank nodded and smirked.

"Dinah is a really great gal—“ Myrna paused for a while.

"Am I sensing a 'but' here, Myrna?" Frank asked.

Myrna exhaled.  "Dinah is great.  A strong Christian.  Very thoughtful and sweet.  It's just that she's got this— little— hang-up."

"Little?" Bill asked incredulously.

Myrna swatted her husband.

Frank just waited.

"It all started when we were in grade school," Myrna began, causing a groan of anguish to rise from Bill.  "There was a boy she really liked but she said something wrong.  You know, she got a well known phrase twisted up, and it humiliated her, even though the kid most likely didn't even catch it, so that the next time she went to talk to him she was so nervous she started to come across as aloof and snobbish.  After that, with every guy she really liked, she would basically chase them away with her coldness."

"Basically?" Bill's incredulity increased.  "Myrna, honey, she leaves them scarred for life," Bill interjected.

"He's exaggerating," Myrna came back.

"Yeah, but not much," Bill retorted.

"But that's why I thought that you'd be perfect for her, Frank," Myrna defended her position.

"After all, what are friends for, Frank, but to set you up with someone who seems to enjoy using her claws at the drop of a hat," Bill's sarcasm was more than evident.

Frank laughed at these two who seemed to enjoy picking on each other.  "Why do you think that I'd be perfect for her, Myrna?"

"Because you are so laid back.  Things just roll right off you.  You don't hold on to anything nasty that people say or do to you.  You let the bad go.  And I figured that, if she liked you, you'd be able to hang on long enough to get to actually see her for who she is, and not for the nervous habit she's developed—“

“—And perfected," Bill threw in.

“—Over the years," she finished with another glare at her husband though she let a slight smirk escape.  "Besides, if she's not interested in you in that way, you won't have anything to worry about.  She'll be just as lovely as can be, won't she Bill?" she turned to her husband for confirmation.

"Definitely," he agreed.  "I'm just concerned if she does like him that way, Dearest."

"What do you say?" Myrna asked Frank, unsure of his answer after all this discussion.          

Frank smirked as he thought about it for a moment.

"Please?" Myrna had her hands clasped in front of her as she beseeched him.

Exhaling, Frank nodded.

"Oh!  Thank you!" she said as she took off before Frank could change his mind.

Bill put his hand on Frank's shoulder.  "You're a better man than I, my friend."

"I know," Frank smirked over at his friend who laughed.

"Come on," Bill started pulling him in the direction of the refreshment tables.  "I'll buy you a ginger ale.  You're gonna need it."

Within a couple of minutes, Frank had his ginger ale and was sipping it while talking some more with Bill when Myrna came up behind him.

"Here she is Frank..."

Frank started to turn around when Myrna began the introductions.

"This is Dinah Kessler.  Dinah, this is Frank Mosely," she finished as Frank and Dinah recognized each other.

"Oh, it's you," the woman in the black plum dress flatly said.

Bill snorted into his glass.

"We meet again," Frank smiled.

"You two already met?" Myrna asked.

"In the elevator not too long ago," Frank explained.

"Oh," was all Myrna could say for a moment.  

"I went and got Grandma's shawl for her," Dinah quietly explained to Myrna.

"Oh, I see.  Well, at least you know each other's names now," Myrna was looking on the bright side of things.  "That's good, right Dinah?" she said cheerfully.

"I guess," Dinah shrugged, looking less than thrilled at their meeting.

Frank looked over at Bill who gave him a thumbs up and mouthed, "You are in, my friend."

As Myrna took Bill and conspicuously excused themselves to go and talk to some other people, Frank took that time to ask his Heavenly Father for some help, fully realizing that he had not struck out with her in the elevator as he had originally thought.

"Could I get you a glass of this evening's finest?" he offered as he indicated the stemmed glass of ginger ale.

"No.  I hate ginger ale," Dinah said flatly.

"Ah. Well, can I get you anything else?" 

"No."

"Alright then," he said as he took a sip of the fizzy drink.  "It was a nice wedding ceremony, wasn't it?"

"Yeah.  Except for the wailing kid over in the groom's section," Dinah crossed her arms in front of her.

Frank nodded.  LORD, I don't know what else to say right now, he prayed as he glanced over to see Bill and Myrna across the room.  While Myrna was talking to some friends, Bill was watching him and Dinah, and trying not to laugh which caused Frank to smirk.

"What's so funny?" Dinah asked sharply.

Frank looked over at her.  "I was just thinking of the time I gave Bill a black eye.  All accidentally, of course," he finished.

"Of course," Dinah nodded.  "He probably had it coming," she muttered.  "So, Myrna tells me that you're a cop, in a town called Waterloo, Kansas?” she inquired in a demeaning manner that was easy to see how a man could get a complex.

"Jubilee, Texas," he gently corrected.

"So-rry," she rolled her eyes.  

"Yes.  I'm the sheriff there," he ignored her attitude.  "It's a nice little town," he smiled.  "Have you ever been there?"

"Never even heard of it."

"Well, that's not surprising.  As far as the life of a town goes, we’re fairly new.  Gonna be celebrating our fifteenth anniversary next year."

"Humph.  It is pretty new," she said in an almost civil manner.  But not quite.

"Are you from around here?" he asked her now.

"No." 

Frank waited for more but then realized that there was to be nothing more forth coming until he asked.  “So, where do you hang your hat?"

"What?" she asked irritably, looking at him in a way that made him feel rather stupid.  

"That's just an expression for, 'Where do you live?'"

"Oh.  Cowboy talk, right?" she now understood.  "I'm from Minnesota."

Frank whistled.  "Long, cold winters there," he commented.

"From what I understand, Texas has cold winters too," she defended.

"I didn't mean it as a put down, Dinah," he explained.  "Texas does have cold winters, but they're not as long, or as snowy, as a northern winter."

"Oh.  Right.  Sorry."

"So," Frank ventured out for more.  "What do you work at in Minnesota?"

Dinah exhaled as if she was bored.  "I'm working as a receptionist in a travel agency.  At least, I will be until Monday."

"The day after tomorrow?"

Dinah nodded looking a little more glum than perturbed.

Did she get fired? Frank wondered.  "Moving on to better things?"

"I don't know," she shrugged.  "I was just filling in for someone on maternity leave there anyway."

"Did you like it there?"

Dinah looked at him as if he had grass growing out his ears.  "Yeah, I guess.  I like the whole travel thing.  It was kind of up my alley.  But I guess I'll be looking for something else when I get back," she seemed to open up just a tiny bit but then closed back up.

"Maybe you could work there in a different capacity," he wondered.

"I already asked.  They don't need any more people there," she returned to her angry, blank wall personality.

"Hm," Frank nodded as he glanced around the room at the dancers on the wooden floor.  Why not, he submitted to the idea.  "Would you care to dance?"

Dinah looked at the couples dancing with something akin to wistfulness.  Just as quickly the look was replaced by the "nervous habit" that Myrna had warned him about.  "I don't like to dance."

"Oh.  Okay," he turned and set his now empty glass on the tray of a passing by waiter.  He could see out of the corner of his eye that Dinah was watching him closely.  LORD, help her, he prayed. 

Frank saw her open her mouth to say something but then changed her mind.  He could actually see what Myrna was talking about.  He could see her nervousness and how it was translated into sharp rudeness and an air of superiority.  She was scared and hurt, and just needed a break.  I did like her right off when I saw her with her family and friends, he told the LORD.  Maybe Myrna was onto something.

"So, how long have we been talking?" Dinah asked.  "Long enough to suit Myrna?"

"Huh?" Frank was thoroughly confused.

"You can go if you want to.  It should satisfy Myrna that you gave it your best shot," she said in that stuck-up way.

Frank was speechless.  Looking over at Dinah he couldn't help but feel sorry for every guy she'd ever treated like this.  He also couldn't help but feel sorry for her.  At this rate, she'd more than likely end up alone, and that was, he figured, what she was scared of the most.  But how could he continue trying to get to know her when there was so little time before he was to leave and she was so unwilling to give an inch?

"I don't want to go right now."  His answer seemed to shock her.  "But I do have to leave," he checked his watch, "in about ten minutes.  I've got a plane to catch."

"Oh," she quietly said.  "Well, it was— something to meet you," she said and then abruptly turned and walked away.

"Wait—“ Frank started but then stopped and sighed.

"Having lady troubles, friend?" Bill plopped his hand on Frank's shoulder.

Frank looked over at his friend.  "Apparently."

"You know that I'm impressed though, right?"

Frank raised his eyebrows.  "How so?"

"She was the one to walk away," he patted his shoulder.  "And you don't look the worse for wear either.  Very impressive."

"I do what I can.  Unfortunately, it wasn't enough," Frank watched where Dinah went to.

"What do you mean?" Bill asked.

"I told her I didn't want to leave but that I had to in order to catch my flight out tonight."

"Ooo," Bill flinched.  "She didn't believe you."

"Most likely."

"Mm.  And when do you have to go?"

"Right about now."

"Ah.  Well, at least it will look good if she sees you leaving.  It will give what you told her a real air of authenticity," he nodded his head.

Frank chuckled.  "It was nice seeing you again, Bill," he shook his hand and ended in a man hug.

"You too."

"Tell Myrna," Frank said as he looked to see her across the room talking to some other people, "that I did my best."

"Will do, my friend.  Will do," he promised.

Taking one last look at Dinah who now sat at her grandmother's table, he took his leave and headed for the front desk.

Once checking-out was completed, he turned to see Trevor coming from outside and heading in the direction of the other conference hall and calling out a name.

"Bernie Gimble!  Paging Bernie Gimble!"

"Trevor!" Frank called to him.

"Oh, hey there!" he hurried towards Frank.  "I just set your bags out front with Carl.  He'll take care of you from there."

"Thanks Trevor," Frank said as he handed him a tip.

"Thank you, Mr. Mosely.  I hope you had a good time," he spoke as he pocketed the tip.

"I had a very good time," Frank smiled.  "It was nice to meet you," he offered his hand to the boy.

"It was nice to meet you too, Mr. Mosely," Trevor said as he started on his way again.  "I gotta go.  Have a safe trip," he waved to Frank and then disappeared down the hall calling out for this 'Bernie Gimble'.

As he stepped outside the hotel under the large awning, he spied the older, dark skinned gentleman who hailed cabs and helped load and unload guest's luggage with a smile.  "Afternoon Carl," he greeted.

"Good afternoon to you, Mr. Mosely.  Leaving us so soon?" Carl returned the greeting as he looked up and down the street for an unoccupied taxi.

"Yeah.  I got an offer to get home earlier and so, I go," Frank smiled.

"Well, I hope you enjoyed your stay with us," Carl spoke as he stepped over to the area where Trevor had left Frank's bags.

"I did have a good time," Frank nodded.  "Thanks for asking."  

"Hey!"

Frank turned around to see Dinah hurrying towards him.

Carl looked at Frank with a grin.  "Looks like you had a very nice time here, Mr. Mosely," he said as he wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

Frank looked back at Carl.  "Uh— no comment," he smirked.

Carl just chuckled.

"Hello again— again," he smiled as she came to a stop in front of him.

"Yeah," she said softly, a bit out of breath.  "You're really leaving," she stated more than asked.

"Yeah," he nodded. "A friend of mine is swinging by to pick me up and take me back home."

Dinah looked puzzled.  "Driving?"

"No.  He's got a charter plane and he's coming back this way."

"Oh.  Well," she seemed to be wanting to tell him something.  "Um, I didn't, I mean, I just wanted to, uh—“

Frank had decided he was going to wait patiently for her to finish, but as it happened, he suddenly spotted a full sized black van with it's side door already slid open that had pulled out into traffic and was heading towards them, wheels squealing.

"Seriously?  Can you not at least give me the courtesy of looking me in the face when I'm trying to apologize to you?" Dinah sounded more than a little miffed.  Again.

"Sorry," Frank absently offered as he kept his eye on the van.

"Sorry.  Really.  Okay," Dinah's sarcasm meter went off the chart.  "You know what?  Forget it.  I was—“

"Get inside!" Frank cut her off and turned her around and tried to propel her towards the hotel doorway when he saw the van come screeching to a stop in front of them.

"What are you— What is—“ Dinah's eyes were large with alarm as she tried to hold her ground only to be grabbed from behind by someone else.  

"Hey!" Frank heard Carl call out as Frank fought to get Dinah freed before she was shoved into the black interior of the van only to suddenly feel a sharp and intense pain on the back of his head just before the whole world went dark.

End of sample.

Just In Time

Copyright © 2013 Jae Blessing