Twist of Fate

by Faver, JD

  A TWIST OF FATE

  by J.D. Faver

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  *****

  A Twist of Fate

  Copywrite © 2011 by J.D. Faver

  Smashwords Editions, License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  *****

  CHAPTER ONE

  Mel Hannigan was hanging around wondering how she could have been so stupid. Actually, she was hanging precariously by her seatbelt in her Porsche Boxter after missing the curve.

  She’d been admiring the picturesque rural upstate New York countryside and had missed the posted signage announcing the sharp curve and advising reduced speed. Ordinarily, the Porsche could run a slalom course and cling like Velcro, but the driver had to be paying attention.

  Now her shiny red two-seater was leaning on its side into a ditch filled with rank, smelly water. The ditch, not the car.

  “Here, lady. Reach for my hand. I will help you.” The deep, masculine voice held a trace of an accent, but Mel couldn’t place it.

  She espied a large calloused hand sticking over the side of the car. “My seatbelt is stuck,” she called.

  Her unseen Good Samaritan made a guttural noise of understanding. “I will be back to pull you out. Do not move.”

  “Okay. No probs...I’ll be right here.” She sighed and swatted the mosquito that lit on her thigh. Her yellow shorts glowed like neon in the bright sunlight.

  After what seemed like an eon, she began to think that she’d been abandoned. In the distance, she heard the distinct sound of a coffee-grinder motor chugging toward her. She tried to open her seat belt and found it still jammed.

  If I could just slide out of here. She struggled with the seatbelt again and it abruptly released her, sending her plummeting to the other side of the car. She hit the door and plunged into the unknown terrors of the ditch.

  She splash-landed on her hands and knees in a foot of dank water. A cold ooze of mud squished through her fingers. Her thunderous heartbeat pulsed her whole body.

  After the initial panic subsided, she realized she wasn’t injured. She released a deep sigh of relief. She glanced back over her shoulder when the car creaked and groaned.

  With a strangled shriek, she scrambled out of the ditch just as her precious automobile slid into the swampy water on its side.

  Howling in anguish, she stamped her squishy sandaled foot on the pavement. This car was her rolling trophy. She had paid cash for it out of the proceeds of her first big coffee table book of photographs published in New York City.

  The fire-engine red color made her feel daring. It made her feel beautiful. It made her feel powerful... well, not so powerful now.

  Mel whimpered as she stared at the undercarriage of her prized vehicle.

  “I told you not to move.”

  She whirled around to find herself face to face with a giant. A blonde Adonis in boots and overalls.

  The tall, broad-shouldered man climbed down from his tractor and strolled toward her, dragging a heavy chain behind him.

  Mel drew in a sharp breath as the man neared, glaring down at her from under the brim of a slightly crumpled straw cowboy hat, his eyes the color of the deepest part of the Caribbean. “Oh, my...”

  “Stand back, lady.” He wore no shirt under his overalls and the tanned muscles rippling in his arms and chest would make a personal trainer die of envy.

  Mel stepped out of the way as he attached a chain to her tiny bumper. “Are you sure that will hold?”

  The tall man turned and smirked down at her. “Are you so sure it will not?” He cast a look of disgust over her slovenly appearance and reached in the pocket of his overalls. He drew forth an immaculate white handkerchief and flapped it in the breeze to unfurl it before extending it in her direction.

  Mel bit her lip and reached for the handkerchief. She wiped ineffectually at the grime on her face before scrubbing at her hands and knees. When she straightened, she realized that the giant was staring at her cleavage.

  For the first time, she regretted her wardrobe choice that particular day. She’d opted to wear shorts and a knit tank top that clung to her curves. It was a good choice for driving with the top down. She’d gotten a little sun on her shoulders and the tops of her thighs.

  But she hadn’t counted on crawling around in a swampy ditch and she hadn’t counted on those deep blue eyes caressing her breasts as though she were naked.

  She raised her gaze to meet his and felt her lower lip jutting out.

  The giant grinned, not even embarrassed by his gawking, then returned to the tractor and climbed up on the seat. He glanced back at her before grinding it into gear, the muscles in his broad shoulders working as he propelled the machine forward.

  The Porsche groaned.

  Mel felt herself cringing all over. My poor baby. She closed her eyes and tried all the prayers from her years at St. Cecelia’s School. She heard a sickening crash and opened her eyes in time to see the Porsche bounce as it righted itself on the road.

  Mud and muck covered the entire passenger side. The giant stopped his tractor and unhooked the chain from the undercarriage.

  “Komen zie mir mit me.”

  “What?”

  He looked at her as though she didn’t understand plain speech. “Come with me...to the house. You can get cleaned up.”

  “I can’t leave the car. It cost over sixty thousand dollars. I can’t just abandon it by the side of the road.”

  The giant took another look at the car and emitted a low whistle. “That is a lot of money to pay for a thing that rusts.”

  Mel pulled herself to her full height. “It’s a fine German automobile. A precision instrument.”

  He made a scornful growl in the back of his throat.

  “Well, in that case...” He started to climb back on the tractor. “Wait!” she shrieked. “You can’t just leave me here.”

  “Lady, I offered to take you with me to my home, but you wanted to stay with your expensive car. What more do you want me to do?”

  “Wait! Just wait while I call the Porsche dealer.” She turned around twice. “Where is my iPod?”

  The giant walked back to her side, all the while glaring down at her as though she had just popped out of her space ship.

  “Oh, no!” She pointed to her phone, sitting atop a patch of mashed reeds in the foul and putrid ditch.

  “Is that what you are looking for? That little red thing?”

  “My life is in that phone.” She leaned over the side of the ditch, reaching toward the object of her desires. Her sandals slipped and she started a slow slide into the mud and muck. Waving her arms wildly, she was brought up short when the giant wrapped his sinewy fingers around her forearm and jerked her back up to the pavement.

  “Just stay here. I will get it.”

  A muscle in the side of his jaw twitched as he began his descent. Somehow the ditch didn’t look so deep with the giant standing in it. He stomped through the quagmire and retrieved her phone, picking it up gingerly between finger and thumb.

  “Here is your telephone instrument.”

  Mel bent down to accept it, flashing him another shot of her boobs. She grasped the phone before glancing up to catch him gazing, transfixed at her breasts.

  “Please stop gawking at my boobs,” she snapped. “I’m not that well endowed.”

  He ducked his head.

&n
bsp; Mel took a bit of satisfaction in the tinge of red that appeared on the tips of his ears. He climbed out of the ditch, scaling it as a regular-sized person would take a step.

  “Not true,” he said gruffly, not meeting her eyes. “You are endowed.” He stomped over to where his tractor idled and climbed up onto the seat.

  Mel sighed. “Mister. Please wait while I try to reach my dealership.”

  He glared at her and nodded, leaning against the tractor. He raised one powerful arm and rubbed the back of his neck as though she had somehow stressed him.

  She tried several times to make the call and finally reached someone who promised to send a tow truck the next day. Her face crumpled and her lower lip quivered.

  The giant emitted a loud sigh and backed his tractor close to where she stood. He climbed down, squatting beside the small car and attached the chain to the front axle. “We go now. Come with me.” He pointed to the tractor and she fell into step beside him. He climbed up and held his arms out to her.

  Mel looked at him uncertainly, and he waggled his fingers in encouragement. She reached for his hands and he swung her up onto a small platform and seated her on one of his rock hard thighs.

  A flush rose from her core. The giant put both hands on the large steering wheel, and in doing so, he brought his arm around her in a seeming embrace. Mel swallowed, butterflies flying relay races in her chest.

  He shifted the tractor into gear and pulled Mel’s vehicle slowly down the road. Something had come loose underneath and scraped along the pavement, the metallic sound grating her nerves.

  Mel cleared her throat. “Thank you.” Her voice came out thick anyway.

  He stared straight ahead. “I did not mean to stare at your...your chest. I do not see many women around here with so little clothing. It’s unseemly.”

  “You don’t watch much television, do you?”

  “I do not have television.”

  Mel swallowed. That explains so much. They drove slowly for what seemed like miles before the giant turned the tractor onto a straight, well-maintained dirt road. The road cut through fields, lush with corn and sorghum on either side. Mel smelled the dark, rich earth...really smelled it.

  She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and lifted her nose in the air. When she opened her eyes, the giant was staring at her. At that moment the tractor hit a rut and she bounced from her perch, almost falling. She reached out to grab the giant’s arm, but he scooped her back onto his thigh and held her there, his hand at her waist. A warm glow radiated through her knit top, spreading throughout her body. She was afraid to breathe, afraid to lift her gaze. This felt entirely too comfortable.

  In a few minutes they reached a neat frame house and yard. There was a dark red barn and several out buildings. She saw horses and pigs and chickens.

  A large dog of indistinct origins came bounding up to greet them.

  The giant stopped the tractor and set her on her feet, before unhooking her car.

  “Your automobile will be safe here.” He stowed the chain on the deck of the tractor.

  She looked around, taking a few steps away and stumbled when she scuffed a pebble into her sandal. She balanced on one leg and then bent down, trying to dislodge the pebble. She was aware that her shorts were displaying way too much of her backside.

  Large fingers splayed around her arm to steady her and then he scooped her into his arms. His gaze flicked over her before he began to walk purposefully toward the house. The dog then fell into step beside the giant.

  She was slung across his muscular arms and plastered against his work hardened chest. He carried her effortlessly, but the heat emanating from his tanned skin was creating a strong reaction within Mel. She clasped his neck, aware of her bare thighs against his forearm.

  He set her down on the wooden porch. “Take off your shoes and go into the house. I will take care of the animals.” He strode off toward the barn.

  Mel glanced around. The house looked well cared for. It was freshly painted and a neatly manicured vegetable garden grew to one side.

  She approached the front door with trepidation, reaching out to knock on the doorframe. “Hello? Is anyone there?” No answer. She slipped out of her mud-encrusted sandals and knocked again before trying the knob. It was unlocked. Mel took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold.

  The last rays of sunlight filtered through sheer curtains at the windows. Everything was neat and tidy, but the house held a sense of being closed up, as though no voice had been raised in laughter here for a long time.

  Mel ventured further inside, then realized she was holding her breath. She relaxed her shoulders and straightened her spine. Not going to get spooked over an old house.

  Heavy footsteps sounded on the steps and the giant burst through the door, his arms filled with wood. He hung his hat on a peg by the door and dropped the wood on the floor beside a strange looking stove in his kitchen.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. “It’s a little early in the year for a fire, isn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “I did not know the lady wanted a cold bath.” His voice dripped sarcasm.

  “Cold? No, I...”

  He shot her a long look before loading the wood into the cast iron stove and setting it alight. He turned to the sink and pumped water into two large galvanized pails, then set them directly on the stove. “The water will be hot soon. You had best get ready.” He pointed toward an open door.

  Mel stared through it uncertainly. “What’s in there?”

  He put his foot on a bench and started unlacing his boots, the muscles working in his bare arms. “It is your room.”

  “My room? I can’t stay here!” She gaped at him, open-mouthed. “Not the two of us...here alone...all night.”

  He slipped his boots off and set them outside the front door. “Where, then?”

  “There’s not a hotel in town?”

  “What town? The nearest town is thirty miles in that direction.” He pointed out the doorway. “Start walking, if you wish to make it by nightfall.”

  Mel swallowed hard. “It’s just that...”

  “Do not worry about me. I am a perfect gentleman.”

  A smile twirked the corners of her mouth. She visually cruised the tall, broad-shouldered man standing before her. Not her idea of a gentleman.

  But he was her idea of a real hunk. In his stocking feet he stood about six-foot-five or six, at least a whole foot taller than her. “I see. Well, thank you for your hospitality, Mister...Mister…?”

  “Engle. My name is Helmut Engle.”

  “Mel. Melanie Hannigan.” She held out her hand to him.

  He glanced at it and then enveloped her hand in his much larger one. It was warm, dry and rough, similar to having one’s hand wrapped in a well-used baseball glove.

  “Please call me Mel.”

  A flicker of amusement in the depths of his eyes. A dimple showed beside his mouth. “I will.”

  Oh, my God! He’s cute! A bigger, badder Brad Pitt with his longish sun-washed, dirty blonde hair and dimples. I’m in so much trouble here. “Uh, Helmut. Can I borrow a bathrobe?”

  “I do not have a bathrobe, but I will lend you a towel.” He left and reappeared with a large rectangle woven of thick linen fibers.

  It was soft and worn but, Mel figured it would be absorbent. She swallowed as his hand brushed hers. “Thanks. Thank you. Where is your restroom?”

  “Behind the house.”

  “Where am I going to bathe?” Her voice crept up a whole octave.

  He pointed to a corner of the kitchen where a large oval galvanized tub with straight sides sat gleaming. Mel envisioned the entire length of Helmut Engle in the tub and smiled in spite of her discomfort.

  “Out here in the open?”

  He expressed a loud sigh. “I will fix it. Just get ready. The water is almost hot.”

  Mel turned and entered the small, sparsely furnished bedroom. No particular color scheme dominated, but the bed was neatly made with
a dark colored patchwork quilt stretched over the top and tucked in tight. No photographs or personal mementos were visible. The top of an oak chest of drawers and a plain nightstand stood empty.

  She closed the door and shed her muddy clothes, wrapping herself in the large sheet of fabric.

  She stood with her hand on the doorknob, gritting her teeth and giving herself a stern talking to.

  What kind of woman would strip naked with a strange man on the other side of the door? What kind of woman would contemplate taking a bath in a metal tub in the middle of the stranger’s kitchen? What kind of woman would look at this stranger with lust in her heart when she had barely learned his name...She sighed. A really dirty woman, that’s who.

  A sharp knock interrupted her thoughts. “Mel?”

  His deep voice sent a skittering of gooseflesh over her bare skin. She gathered the cloth around her shoulders and opened the door a crack.

  “Your bath. It is ready.” He stared into her eyes, then let them trail down her shrouded body, as though he possessed x-ray vision. He turned toward the kitchen and she followed, feeling as though she was headed for the gallows.

  When he stepped aside, she saw that he’d strung a rope across the corner of the kitchen and hung a couple of quilts with old-fashioned clothes pegs.

  He was looking at her for approval.

  A wide grin spread across her face. “Thank you, Helmut. That’s just perfect.”

  He smiled again; the flash of his dimples warming her insides. He pulled a quilt aside for her to enter and she saw that he’d lit a candle in the quilt-darkened corner.

  There was a wash cloth of the same rough linen weave and a large bar of waxy-looking soap atop a small stool beside the filled tub.

  Mel turned to face him, gazing up at the handsome face. “I appreciate all the trouble you’ve gone to for me.”

  He swallowed hard and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “I will leave you to it then.” He dropped the quilt into place and Mel took a deep breath and then let it out. Whew! This guy makes me ache and it’s not from pain.