by Thianna D
Moving around her boxes, she walked from the living room into a large kitchen with deep red granite countertops and pine cabinets – though only the lower ones; there were no upper cabinets, which for her was a plus as she was only five feet, three inches tall. She hated having to get a stool to reach things. A large island sat in the middle and she smiled as she looked at it. A cook at heart, she could hardly wait to fix something amazing here. Though, as she only had herself to cook for, it would be stupid to cook anything too remarkable: to her, "amazing" meant sweet, and having sweets around was dangerous. She had an old-fashioned hourglass figure and if she did not watch it, she tended to balloon up quickly.
The side-by-side refrigerator-freezer was practically brand new, as were the eight-burner cooktop and dual ovens. As she ran her fingers along the stainless steel appliances, she could not help but smile. This kitchen could almost match the one she had had in her head since she was a little girl. Through a doorway that stood between the dual ovens and a small marble countertop, she found a huge pantry area that she planned to fill as soon as possible. It was autumn and at some point the snow would begin to fall. She had the feeling going to Denver to stock up on food would not be appealing to her at that point.
Moving back through the kitchen, she glanced at a set of French doors that led off it to what was undoubtedly her back yard. She would look at that later. Instead, she walked into the living room and down a hallway, passing a small room that she figured would work as a dining room. Hardwood floors and ornate wallpapered walls made her smile. This was a fairly new house, only ten years old, and yet the wallpaper looked like something that would have been used in the 1920s.
Moving to the end of the hallway, she turned right into her master bedroom. Her queen-size, contemporary bed was set up in the middle and, thankfully, they had taken all the plastic off of it before they assembled it. It was situated against a wall, right next to another set of French doors. Across from the bed was a large walk-in closet, which she figured she could use for storage, as she really did not have that many clothes. Turning to the other wall next to the French doors, she opened a door and found the master bath, complete with double sinks, a large walk-in shower, and a deep Jacuzzi-style tub. "Oooh, I'm using you tonight," she moaned, trailing her finger along the side.
The rest of the first floor consisted of a small office with tons of natural light filtering through a large expanse of windows facing due East, and a guest bedroom and bath… if she ever actually invited anyone to stay, and she did not see that happening anytime soon. A stairwell went up to the second floor, but she was tired and just wanted to get a few things done before she crashed for the night. Pulling out a notebook and pen, she began to make a list.
Sheets. Blankets. Food. Cleaning supplies.
Wrinkling her nose, she wondered if there was a closer shopping area that would allow her to avoid going all the way back to Denver. She could kick herself for not stopping there on her way, but she was already running late for the delivery truck and did not want to have to reschedule. Going into her bathroom, she splashed water on her face a few times and blotted it dry with the bottom of her overly large t-shirt before grabbing her keys and purse and heading out. Remembering something, she jotted down "new door locks" before climbing into her truck and heading back down the hill that set her house and property off from the rest of the development.
As she drove through the arch that separated Corbin's Bend from the rest of the forest, she spotted two women jogging along the road and rolled her window down. "Excuse me!" she called, and both women stopped and turned, confusion and then welcoming smiles on their faces.
"Are you lost?" asked the taller one, a leggy blonde with tiny hips and practically no chest who stood there jogging from foot to foot. Char was pretty sure this woman had never heard of sugar.
"No. I just moved in," she said pointing over her shoulder at the hill. "I was just hoping there might be a shopping center closer than Denver?" she said hopefully.
The shorter woman, a curvy redhead whose hair was turning gray at her temples, smiled pleasantly. "Not looking forward to heading all the way to Denver? I don't blame you. When my husband and I moved here last year, the last thing I wanted to do on move-in day was go anywhere." Sticking her hand through the truck window, she introduced herself. "I'm Kelli Stevens. My husband Lelo is on the housing board. This is Taylor Jennings." She paused and Char realized they were waiting for her name.
"Char Kendle. Just moved here from the East Coast."
"Well, we do have a small market," Tayler said thoughtfully. "It doesn't have a lot of stuff, but it'll get you through the next couple of days. But there's supposed to be a storm coming in this weekend. You might want to go to Denver anyway, just so you don't get stuck not being able to go."
"Drat. I was afraid of that. Okay. Thanks." They waved as she pulled out of the development and headed down to Denver. The two seemed nice enough, but after her experience with supposed "friends" back in her last town, she could not trust her own instincts. She had believed in them as well. And look where that got her.
It took the rest of the day to get the basics, and by the time she drove home, she was tired, achy, and looking forward to doing nothing the next day except get her internet hooked up and her newest articles to her editors.
When she woke up the next morning, at first she could not remember where she was, but then she opened her eyes and watched the sunshine that filtered through the windows next to her, and a small smile crossed her tired face. Colorado. Corbin's Bend. Right.
After sitting up, she made her way to the bathroom where she took an incredibly long shower. At any moment, she expected the water to go ice cold as it had in her tiny place back East, but it did not. In fact, she finally turned off the water – still hot as could be – when she noticed her fingers were beginning to prune. After wandering out to the living room to grab her suitcase and retrieve a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and her underwear, she padded into her kitchen, getting dressed as she went.
The night before, she had been too tired to put all of her food away, so she had packed the frozen stuff in the freezer and the cold stuff in the fridge and left the rest sitting on the counter tops. After plugging in her new cappuccino maker, she put in a packet and a cup underneath the spout, and started carrying the rest of her groceries into the pantry. She thought she had bought a lot, but looking at how much room was left along with how little she had actually purchased, she wrinkled her nose even as the wonderful scent of caramel reached her and she trotted out to take her first sip of pure pleasure.
The coffee definitely did her good. By the time she drank the whole cup, her eyes were fully open and she felt alive. Deciding to make lists for food runs later, she attacked the boxes in the living room. The first ones she grabbed said "Office" in bright pink marker on the top, and she carried them to her new office, setting them onto the desk the delivery men had put together for her. As usually happened, once embroiled with her computer, she lost track of time as she hooked up her router and began her usual work process of downloading her email and getting her social networking out of the way.
A bell made her jump as she was reading the latest news briefs. At first she was not sure what it was until it happened again. "Doorbell." She laughed softly to herself, getting up and padding across the hardwood floors to her front door. Unsure of who would be there, but pretty sure a thief wouldn't come all the way up to her house to rob her, she unlocked and opened the door, momentarily stunned as she caught sight of the five men standing at her door.
Ranging from five-foot-eight to just over six feet, they held the kind of presence she usually associated with bad boys. But these men did not look like bad boys. For one thing, every one of them was in a three-piece suit; for another, they were clean-shaven. There was a definite sense of alpha male about them, which she found odd. Could you put five alpha males in one area and not have them kill one another?
"Good morning," said the man in the
middle. At just under six feet tall, he was slightly stooped from old age. Receding gray hair and soft blue eyes were a startling combination, especially when joined with the pure dominance he radiated. "My name is Jason Rolson. Myself and the five gentlemen here make up most of the board for Corbin's Bend, and we wished to come welcome you and your husband to our corner of the world."
Five other gentlemen? Looking further, Charmagne had to stifle a gasp at the man who stood further behind the others. The tallest and most striking with dark blond hair and inset gray eyes, he set her heart to hammering and she quickly looked back at Jason. "Thank you," she said, offering the elderly man a smile. "My name is Charmagne Kendle. No husband, just me." Her eyes almost strayed to the gorgeous man in the back again but she managed to stop herself. The last thing she needed them to do was think she was husband shopping. Plus, with a body and face like that, he was sure to either be married or have several women falling all over themselves for him.
Feeling it would be rude to keep the security door between her and them, she opened it up, but leaned on the doorjamb, trying to convey cautious friendliness, but not willing to invite them in. The blond in the back's lips twitched.
"Welcome," Jason said again, his eyes twinkling. "Have you had a chance to read any of the paperwork we left yesterday?"
"Paperwork?" she asked in surprise. "I didn't see anything." She hoped she had not missed anything important. "Was there something I should have filled out?" she asked quickly. "The paperwork the title company gave me explained my house was not a part of the housing development, but I wasn't sure how things were run."
The five in front glanced at one another, looking vaguely unsettled by her question, but the blond answered. "No, Ms. Kendle. Technically your home does not belong to Corbin's Bend, though we have tried for years to get the former owner to tie his home within it. It would give you better coverage for things like the fire station and police, as well as some of the community events we host just for our citizens." He walked to her right, bent down, and picked up an envelope that lay on her porch. "Looks like the paperwork blew away a bit yesterday." Standing up, he strode straight up to her and handed a large tan envelope over, offering his hand as well. "My name is Brent Carmichael. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Shaking his hand was a little like putting her hand into an electrical socket. She could practically feel his energy field radiating from him for several inches. "Likewise. I probably won't get the chance to read any of this for a while. I still have tons of unpacking to do and have to make another trip to Denver for supplies." And she really wanted him to leave because as he removed his hand from hers, her first instinct was to grab it back. And that would be bad. And embarrassing.
Nodding slowly, his gray eyes captured her brown ones for a moment. He seemed vaguely startled for some reason before he backed up to where he was to begin with.
"Ms. Kendle," Jason said, handing over a card. "Please feel free to call me at any time if you have questions. Or any one of us," he said waving at the others. "There is a full list of board members inside that envelope."
"Thank you." She was not sure what else to say, and was relieved when they said their farewells and left. Closing the security door – something that made her feel safe, which was stupid considering it felt like she was in the middle of nowhere – she left the inside door open, as it was in the fifties outside and the fresh air helped clear her head.
After placing the tan envelope on her desk, she went back to unpacking. She actually had very little as she was in too much of a hurry to bring everything with her, and there was now a very full storage space several thousand miles away filled with items she now realized would be useful. Especially in a house this size.
Thankfully, she had brought everything from her old kitchen, so after surveying the new one, she figured out where the best places to put everything would be and set about making it into a more workable space. Three hours spent first cleaning it and then unpacking left her sweaty and realizing it was now early afternoon. "If I don't get down to Denver now, I might not be able to," she whispered, annoyed. Going into the pantry, she made a much longer list than she had the day before and headed out to her truck. She was glad she had a garage, as at least she would not have to clear her truck off when it snowed. That had always been a pain.
Deciding she could get much of what she needed at a warehouse store, she went there first and packed the back of her truck with copious amounts of food. Maybe if she was lucky, she would be set for winter. Then she went to a grocery store and picked up things she did not need in huge amounts. By the time she exited the store, light gray clouds were building over the mountains and the breeze carried along a crisp coolness.
Snow was most definitely coming.
She was halfway home by the time it began to snow, and it fell hard and fast, whipped up by a strong wind. It did not take long before she cut her speed in half because it was getting difficult to see. There were snow tires on her truck, but even then she occasionally felt it slip and slide, which made her hands grip the wheel tighter and tighter.
Unfortunately her hill was a bit steeper than the mountain she had just driven up and she knew the moment she turned into her long, steep drive that her truck was not going to make it. "Shit," she hissed as her wheels began to spin and she felt the truck begin to slide backward. She was halfway up the incline and at this rate, by the time she reached the bottom, she would be going very fast and would be likely to shoot past the road and over the cliff on the other side. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" she cried louder as training kicked in and she yanked the wheel to the left. Immediately her truck fishtailed and turned, her head slamming into her headrest as she hit a tree.
Her last thought before she went unconscious was that the universe had a sick sense of humor.
Chapter 2
Tossing his gloves back into his truck, Brent glanced up and grimaced. Yep. Snow. From the feel of it, it was coming sometime this afternoon.
"Brent!" The call made his lips twitch in wry amusement, but he managed to keep his face clear of emotion as he turned toward the voice. The woman walking toward him was tall for a female, with soft auburn hair, deep blue eyes, and absolutely no figure at all. She did not even have any padding on her derriere, as he could attest to from the one time he had spanked her. Hurt his hand on her tailbone. In her hands, she carried a bag. "Thank you so much for fixing my power," she said, giving him her most winning smile. "I just don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come along."
"You would have been fine," he said calmly. "Judy or Eletha would have been happy to feed and house you." The women who lived on each side of Carla Methon would have thought nothing of taking in their poor single neighbor, and probably would have invited one of the few single men over for her to talk to and possibly develop a relationship with. Of course, Carla and he knew something Judy and Eletha did not. She had her sights on Brent, and until he either died or got married, she looked at no other man. He, on the other hand, was not attracted to her at all. She was just so… predictable.
She laughed, a very careful laugh that made her look and sound her best as she turned slightly at the waist to show off her very thin figure. "Well, as a thank you, I wanted to give you some of my homemade cinnamon cookies. And if you don't have anywhere else to go, I would be happy to make you dinner."
Inwardly grimacing at her blatant behavior, he took the bag of cookies and placed them in the cab of his truck. "Thank you, Carla, but with snow coming, I need to check on a few things. Thank you for the cookies, though." With a nod, he turned and quickly climbed inside, shutting the door before she could find another way to keep him there. He wondered just how dumb she thought he was. Her power was supposedly out all day, and yet he got here fifteen minutes ago only to find her breaker had been thrown and the cookies she handed him were still warm.
Shaking his head, he drove down her lane and turned right, heading down the longest street they had. Spanking Loop started at the beginning of t
he development, looped around, and joined up with itself. He knew if someone needed him, they would come out of their home and wave, so he went the speed limit of fifteen miles per hour as he went along.
Snow began to fall just after two in the afternoon, and by five it was a total mess. Leaving his truck at home, he brought out his four-by-four and drove around looking for accidents, lost animals, or any of the other number of problems that occurred during the first rough snow storm of the season. He was no stranger to this kind of thing since he was a New York City police officer for fifteen years before retiring due to a shooting that brought things into sharp focus for him. This was one of the things he actually enjoyed doing. The list also included helping the widows who made their homes here and making sure the youth were doing something productive rather than dangerous.
As he slowed at what was both the beginning and end of Spanking Loop, he paused as something caught his eye. The snow was falling hard and the addition of the wind made it difficult to see, but he clearly saw a truck slide backward down Kendle's hill, turn, and crash into a tree.
"Damn!" Pressing on the gas, he pulled over at the bottom of her drive, jumped out, and hiked as quickly as he could uphill through the snow, slipping and sliding even with boots that were made for this kind of weather. "Ms. Kendle!" he hollered. He did not recognize the truck, so he assumed it was hers. "Ms. Kendle!" There was no response and, even worse, no movement from the cab.
He went quickly to the driver's side door as soon as he reached the truck and assessed the situation. She was leaning against the headrest, passed out, and there was blood on the left side of her face and the window. Yanking open the door, he lightly felt around her back and neck for any injuries, and, when he felt none, unlatched her seatbelt and pulled her out. Cradling her against his body, he made his way down the hill and deposited her beside him in the cab.