by Melody Anne
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Once Taken
Melody Anne
prologue
Jenna Pine stood on the balcony of her new lodge in the frigid air and felt her lips stretch slightly into a smile. Home. She was home, somewhere she’d never thought she’d be again—somewhere she’d vowed to never come back to after her heart had been shattered.
But life had a way of throwing up detours that gave a person no choice but to follow where the new road led. She was back home because her great-aunt—her last surviving relative—had passed away, leaving the dilapidated inn mired in a mess of taxes and ownership rights.
And though she’d been cleaning cobwebs for days, and though each time she took a step the boards creaked, she still felt a sense of peace knowing the building was soon going to be hers, knowing she would own something that would give her security.
She’d reopen the historic place in the spring. Jenna could practically smell the fresh buds of flowers in the air as she closed her eyes and imagined a gentle breeze blowing in from the mountains, sheer curtains rustling as she stood on the giant wraparound front porch and greeted her guests.
This place was going to give her a new life, and give her freedom. She was determined to let go of the past and give herself a fresh start. That was what adults did. A sigh escaped her as she looked out at the brilliant sky.
“Please let the pain fade. Please open my heart again,” she whispered into the night.
She stood there a few more moments, gazing at the bright stars and could’ve sworn one got just a little bit brighter. But she shook her head, knowing it was only wishful thinking.
This wasn’t a fairy tale where dreams came true. And she wasn’t Pinocchio about to become a real girl. She lived in the real world, where no matter how much time carried on, a person’s future was well into motion from the mistakes of the past.
one
The day had been long and hard, but Jenna felt a sense of accomplishment. Looking down at her filthy hands, she tried to wipe them off on her jeans, but that did no good. She’d been nailing down squeaky floorboards and scrubbing walls for what felt like forever, even if it had only been a week.
Stepping outside, she hoped the frigid night wind would blow away some of the dirt and grime coating her body before she headed inside to take a lukewarm shower. A new hot-water heater was on her checklist, and it was quickly moving to the top. She was tired of five-minute showers, especially since she never fully managed to feel clean.
When the cold was too much to take, Jenna stepped back inside, shivering as she moved over to her crackling fire. She loved her bedroom. It was the nicest room in the place. It was also the only room that was fully finished. Jenna was terrified of creepy-crawly things and she’d made sure every crack was sealed, every hole plugged, and every spider web sucked into a vacuum.
Throwing another log onto the fire, she took off her jacket to settle in, trying to think about what she needed to do for the rest of the evening.
Before she could organize her thoughts, the doorbell chimed. Glancing over at the clock, she wondered who would be showing up at almost seven at night, especially since no one even knew she was back in town. Heck, Jenna didn’t even know if she’d recognize her old neighbors. She hadn’t been back in Sterling, Montana, for ten years.
A slight tremor of fear rushed through her. She was off the beaten path, a few miles from town, surrounded by mountains, trees, and waterfalls. She was vulnerable and alone.
Before she allowed herself to get too carried away, Jenna shook her head. She couldn’t think that way. She was going to open her lodge and have strangers in her home every day. She couldn’t be afraid each time the doorbell rang. Pushing aside her fears, she quickly descended the stairs and went to the ten-foot-high double front doors, unlocking one and pulling it open.
“Hello, Jenna. We’d heard you’d come home.”
Jenna forgot how to speak as she stared at the three ladies standing on her front porch, wrapped tightly in their nearly matching red coats, each of them holding a bag. The smells wafting from them made her stomach rumble.
They looked like they hadn’t aged a single day since she’d last seen them. Maggie, Eileen, and Bethel had taken on the role of the town’s grandmothers some years back, and what a great job they’d done. But how could they even remember her, let alone know she was home? She’d told no one she was coming back.
“We were real sad to lose your aunt Laura. She’ll be missed,” Bethel said. “But it sure is cold out here. Are you going to invite us in?”
“I’m so sorry,” Jenna finally said, realizing she’d been in such shock she was just standing there with the door open. She stepped back and ushered them inside.
“Thank you, darling. The cold really gets to these old bones nowadays,” Eileen told her.
Jenna wasn’t buying the frail act—there was a youthful sparkle in their eyes that spoke of many more years to come for each of them.
The three ladies made their way straight into the dimly lit kitchen, and Jenna was left with no choice but to follow. Maggie went over to her stove and tsked.
“We should have gotten here so much sooner,” Bethel said as she opened the fridge and made an identical tsking sound.
“Yes, you’re trying to take on too much on your own,” Eileen piped in.
She left the room, and before Jenna could even turn around, she was back carrying a bucket full of cleaning supplies.
“Sit down, darling. You look like you’re about to fall over,” Maggie said as she pulled Jenna over to the huge kitchen island and plopped her into a high-backed chair. Jenna watched in amazement as Bethel opened her bag and pulled out several food items.
Eileen made quick work of scrubbing the microwave inside and out before warming the food, and then a plate was being placed before Jenna, the delicious smells wafting from it making her stomach rumble.
“You don’t need to do this,” Jenna tried telling them.
All that earned her was a humoring look from the three tornadoes as they chuckled. They continued doing exactly what they’d started as if she hadn’t spoken.
“We’re just so glad to have you back home with us, Jenna. We don’t like losing one of our own,” Bethel said as she took a break and came to sit next to her at the now-clean breakfast bar.
“I’m sorry the house is such a mess.” Jenna was horrified at what they must think of her.
Dust still covered the counters, her cupboards and fridge were bare, and she had hardly any furniture. When she’d arrived the week before, the house had been overwhelming, as her aunt had been in a retirement home for the past five years.
Apparently Aunt Laura had done an estate sale when she’d moved away, selling a lot of the old antique furniture. Plus, it appeared that the inn might have been broken into a few times since then, as some of the cupboards were damaged and there had been a smattering of graffiti on the walls.
She’d been ready to strike a match and let it burn, but instead she’d gotten an inspection and found out the bones of the house were in really good condition. Most of the repairs were more cosmetic than anything else, and that was good, because Jenna didn’t have a lot of money.
But she’d inherited a modest life insurance policy from her aunt, and the once-beautiful inn had potential
. There wasn’t anything like it for hundreds of miles. Trails stretched out through the mountains, a fairly large private lake was nestled into the woods, and in the winter snow coated the hills, making the inn a perfect getaway.
It definitely wasn’t ready for visitors yet, though—not even close.
“This place will look beautiful in no time at all. I still remember when I was a child and your great-aunt Carol ran this place. She’d throw the best lawn parties in the county and all of us kids would run around while the adults chatted beneath the shade of the willow trees, sipping on their sweet iced tea,” Eileen said.
“I barely remember her,” Jenna admitted. That had been a better time—a much better time, when her great-aunt Carol had still been alive.
“Of course not, darling. You must have only been seven or eight when she passed,” Bethel said with a sad shake of her head.
“Yes, I’d just turned eight.”
“Well, we don’t want to focus on such sad things,” Maggie said as she patted Jenna’s hand. “Have you found a handyman yet?”
The topic switched so quickly, it took Jenna a moment to keep up. The ladies might pause as they spoke to her, but they were still whipping around her kitchen. They must have possessed magic wands or something, because it seemed they were barely in a spot for more than a minute and then it was sparkling clean, the room smelling of Pine-Sol.
It was heavenly.
“Not yet, but I do need to get help. I don’t use power tools too well,” Jenna admitted. “I’ve managed to pound some boards back into place, though,” she added with excitement.
She’d watched many YouTube videos of how to be a do-it-yourselfer. She was actually quite proud of herself, to tell the truth. Jenna had always been a quick learner, but this house was showing her she was even more capable than she’d originally thought.
“That’s wonderful, my dear,” Maggie said with excitement. “And you don’t have to worry about it at all. We’ll find you the perfect handyman.”
“I don’t have a big budget,” Jenna hedged.
“Now, don’t you worry about that. Lots of people in this town are more than happy to use the barter system,” Maggie said.
“That’d be nice,” Jenna said, not wanting to get her hopes up.
“You’ve got us on it, so it’ll be done,” Maggie said. Eileen and Bethel gave her wide smiles.
“Well, thank you,” she told them, feeling nervous about the meddling threesome offering anything without a purpose behind it.
“Now that we have that worked out, we’ll come help you prepare the rooms, too,” Maggie told her.
Jenna tried to argue, but it was useless. The women had obviously made up their minds, and trying to stop them was like trying to suck a cyclone into a mason jar. It just wasn’t going to happen.
By the time the ladies left, her kitchen was clean from top to bottom and she had meals in her fridge that would last for days to come. The three women promised to be back, even though she insisted she was fine.
But later that night, as she lay in bed trying to fight back tears of gratitude, she felt a sense of happiness flood her. It had been so long since she’d been able to count on anyone, so long since another soul had seen fit to want to help her.
Jenna was happy to be home, even if the thought had originally terrified her. There was nothing to fear in being back. He was gone—long gone. And while that was exactly what she’d wanted, even thinking about it sent a pang through her heart. Ten years hadn’t dulled the pain of losing him—not one little bit.
two
Her nose was gone. Jenna was sure of it. She knew because she could no longer feel it. For the past fifteen minutes it’d been tingling—it was so cold it had almost felt like it was on fire. But now she couldn’t feel it at all. That meant it had frozen, fallen off, and was now lying hard as a rock on the snow-covered ground.
She’d love to check, just to be sure, but her arms were full of wood, and she could only move a couple inches at a time without falling on her behind . . . again. What in the world had she been thinking? She wasn’t going to be able to do this. She’d gotten used to the luxuries of the city over the past ten years: she didn’t know how to be a country girl anymore.
One thing she knew for sure, though, was that if she didn’t get this wood into the house, she’d freeze before morning. She should’ve stocked up yesterday, when it hadn’t been snowing nearly as hard. But she hadn’t thought it could be this awful.
Concentrate, she advised herself as she shuffled along. She’d already fallen down twice, and she really didn’t think three times was the charm.
When a shuffling sound to her right startled her, Jenna looked up, knowing that was probably a mistake, as her equilibrium would be thrown off. But she had a vivid imagination, and the sound could have been that of a bear ready to strike, or a killer raccoon. Those things were deceptively cute, but she’d watched enough Animal Planet to know they had deadly claws and razor-sharp teeth, and if they were traveling in a pack, she was done for.
Her heart was racing, and suddenly it felt like it stopped in her chest when instead of a bear she saw a gigantic mountain man standing no more than ten feet away. The guy was massive, covered in snow from head to toe, his nearly black eyes contrasting with the frosty white flakes that concealed his features.
Her precarious balance thrown off, she took a quick step, but though she tried to stop it, she was certainly going down. She felt like she was in a cartoon as her feet windmilled out in front of her, sliding back and forth as if she were running in place. Forgetting she had an armful of wood, she thrust her hands out, and the carefully stacked wood flew outward, hopefully far enough not to land on her face when she plowed into the ground.
Jenna wasn’t sure if she blacked out or if the falling snow blanketed her vision, but as she refocused, she suddenly wished she’d taken those self-defense classes years ago when she’d had the opportunity.
The behemoth of a man was on the ground next to her, his face only about a foot away from hers, his dark eyes unreadable as he brushed some of the snow away from his chiseled features.
“Breathe, Jenna,” he said, his tone commanding.
She startled as his words and voice sank in. One more swipe of his hand and his features were clear. She was afraid she was going to cave in to the blackness on the outside of her vision.
Suddenly, his arms wrapped around her, lifting her off the ground as his hand slammed into her back. The hard slap caused her to take in a much-needed breath on an outraged gasp.
“That’s better,” he said with far too much confidence.
Ten years hadn’t been enough time, she realized as she tugged against his hold. There was an intense awareness in his eyes. She wondered what he was seeing in her own expression. Jenna wasn’t sure.
“We need to get you inside,” he said as he released his hold on her.
As the fog cleared, the voice that spoke to her was one that could never be forgotten. He’d shattered her heart so completely that, to this day, it still wasn’t fully healed.
He reached back out to her and she flinched. But her eyes remained glued to his and she wondered what he was thinking. As usual, his expression gave nothing away. If anything, his face had become harder over the years. She wondered what had happened to the young boy she’d once been so in love with.
“Come on, Jenna, you need to get out of this snow before you freeze,” he told her. There was no longer indulgence in his voice, but a soft click of demand.
He reached for her again, but this time when she moved away, he ignored it. She couldn’t seem to find her voice as he lifted her from the snow. Until she was pressed against the solid heat of his chest she hadn’t realized how cold she really was.
Shivers wracked her body as he stepped with confidence along the slick path. He wasn’t slipping and sliding the way she had been. The snow most likely parted for him, nothing daring to stand in his path.
His pace didn’t slow as he
climbed the steep stairs to the inn and twisted the doorknob, using his foot to kick the door open the rest of the way. Jenna couldn’t even feel the warmth of the room on her flushed cheeks. All she could feel was the raw masculinity exuding from the man holding her—the man she’d never thought she’d see again.
When he didn’t put her down right away, she began to grow nervous. As she took a breath, she braced herself to look back into his eyes and what she saw there this time had her stomach tightening. He wasn’t as cold as he’d been trying to make himself seem.
“You can put me down,” she said, hating the shakiness in her tone.
“I did that once. I’m not so sure it was the smartest decision I’ve ever made,” he told her, his voice a low growl, surrounding her, making the large room suddenly shrink in on them.
This wasn’t a discussion she was willing to have with him.
“I haven’t seen you in ten years,” she said, her voice gathering strength. “What are you doing here?”
He stood still in front of the blazing fire, seeming to clutch her a bit tighter. She knew she needed to get out of his arms and fast, because the longer he held her, the more she didn’t want him to ever let her go.
A dark eyebrow rose and his lips turned up the slightest bit as if he had a secret he wasn’t willing to divulge. Ugh. Only this man had been able to stir things inside of her no other could ever hope to reach.
“Seriously, you need to put me down,” she said.
His expression didn’t change, but he moved over to her couch and dropped her on it, her body bouncing up before settling down. He plucked the blanket off her favorite chair before tucking it over her shivering body. No matter how much she commanded her body, she couldn’t stop the shivers wracking her small frame.
“If you had a bit more meat on you, you wouldn’t be so close to hypothermia,” he said, stepping away from her.
She stared at him as he removed his coat and moved back to the fire. His shoulders had almost doubled in size over the past ten years, sinuous muscles clearly visible as he rubbed his hands together. His dark brown hair was cut short, allowing the hard angles of his face to be that much more recognizable. His eyes—those dark chocolate eyes with endless depths—were aware of everything, and his chest and stomach were solid. She’d felt as if she were pressed up against a wall when she’d been in his muscled arms.