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And she kept on unwinding.
And unwinding.
Until the last thin band of gauze that covered her breasts slid down the tawny stem of her like the skin of an asp to reveal the most perfect, ripe fruit.
She cupped her breasts happily in her hands.
I was lost, wanting the taste of them. I went to her as her slave and knelt at her side, and she wound her arms about my neck. I lifted her out of the trough and onto my lap. Her fingers tangled in my hair, and she drew me to her and captured my lips with hers. My tongue explored and found no resistance, and I took her mouth as mine. She tasted of exotic nectars and smelled of spices. I wanted to dissolve and be a part of her.
“Rid me of the rest of these rags,” she breathed against my lips.
I heard pounding. For a moment I thought that sound was my heart, but then the source became clear. Someone was beating on the door.
I pulled away, confused, shaking, guilty—found out in my sin.
“Open up in the name of the law,” demanded a stern voice.
26
PAY HIM NO MIND,” GRUMBLED Tauseret. She reached for me, but I held back. A whimper came from the hayloft. I felt like whimpering too. Did Mink stand outside with the sheriff?
Miss Lightfoot appeared beside me. Without batting an eye, she helped Tauseret off my lap to a seat on the side of the trough. She took a garment from her shoulder and laid it in Tauseret’s arms. “Honey pie, I do believe you are in need of this.”
My cheeks flamed.
Tauseret exhaled audibly and rolled her eyes. She held up the offered chemise to examine it. Sleeveless, shapeless, and white, it did not appear the garment of her dreams.
“Open the door, Abel,” Miss Lightfoot said. “We must deal with this inconvenience.” I could tell from the fear in her eyes she expected Mink to be outside, but she pressed her lips firmly together and helped pull the shift down over Tauseret’s head.
I tugged the barn door open, my innards in shock at my rapid change of emotions. An annoyed man, a silver star on the lapel of his tightly buttoned blue jacket, with nightshirt cuffs apparent under the sleeves, walked inside. Mr. Webster, with a lantern, entered behind him, accompanied by his wife, clad in a voluminous wrapper, her children clustered around her. Mr. Webster shot me a look that accused me of betrayal, and I felt ashamed and injured.
I looked beyond our visitors but saw neither Mink nor any of his henchmen. This had to be his doing, however. Had he bribed this lawman to be his dupe? A sense of doom suffused me.
A row of scared faces now peered down from the hayloft— some little, some big, one hairy. Mr. Bopp had either not heard the ruckus or ignored it.
Mr. Ginger joined us. He appeared rather odd in his underdrawers and a hastily donned hat. “What is your business here, Officer?” he asked.
Tauseret favored the sheriff with a radiant smile from her perch on the trough. The sheriff smiled back, then examined his boots, cleared his throat, and took on an official glower once more. “There’s a feller at my office claims you stole his wagon and a valuable exhibit, and abducted children in his care.”
“Would that be a Dr. Mink?” Mr. Ginger asked.
“That would be the feller,” agreed the sheriff. He looked like he had smelled something bad when he said it, and my hopes returned.
“Dr. Mink owed us salary, Officer, and refused to pay,” I explained. “We decided that we had better seek our fortunes elsewhere. A wagon hardly covered what he owed us.”
The sheriff nodded as if he could well see our case. I could tell he didn’t like Mink at all. “But there’s a matter of a …” He paused, as if what he had to say was too unbelievable. “An Egyptian mummy,” he concluded.
Mr. Ginger glanced at Tauseret, now a stunning little beauty in a long white chemise. “Search the whole place, if you like,” he said. “You will find no dried-out ancient lady here.”
“Go ahead, Eli,” said Mr. Webster. “Might as well.”
The sheriff poked in corners, turned over hay, and examined the inside of the wagon. At one point he let out a yelp that sounded most undignified. A familiar growl followed his cry, and I knew he’d found Mr. Bopp.
My heart thumped when he approached the water trough. What if he found the wrappings? The sheriff might overlook the wagon, but if we proved to have taken something else, the situation might not go well for us. Tauseret chose that moment to slide backward into the trough and recline. She yawned like a cat and patted her mouth with her fingers most prettily.
“Sorry to disturb your night’s rest, young lady,” the sheriff said, and turned away, looking flustered.
“Well, I see no sign of antiquities here,” said the sheriff, “but what about the children?” He looked up. “Mink says you kidnapped them.”
