by Thianna D
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 the 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.
His four-by-four was equipped with chains and he knew these roads, so rapidly turning around and heading deep into the development was not as crazy for him as it would be for anyone else. Once he reached the other houses, he slowed down just in case someone was out in the road, but thankfully the members of this little hamlet were staying inside. He made it to the home of the one doctor they had, Marcus Devon, without any trouble. After turning off the vehicle, he jumped out, gently picking her up and carrying her to the house, where he kicked the door three times.
The door opened to Marcus’s youngest son Brody, who grinned at him. “Hi, Brent.”
“Hey, Brody. Your dad here? We have someone who was in an accident.”
Alert, Brody nodded and opened the door wide to let Brent in, closing it behind him. “Take her into dad’s office. I’ll go tell him.”
“Thanks, son,” Brent called, walking down a long hallway and into a large room. He hit the light switch with his elbow and a doctor’s office lit up, complete with padded table. Laying her on top of it, he looked closely at the left side of her face, relieved to see the bleeding had stopped.
“Hey, Brent, someone have an accident?” Marcus asked, walking into the room and closing the door behind him as two of his sons were trying to see what was going on.
“Yes, her truck couldn't make the climb up to her house, and as it slid backward it crashed into a tree. Looks like she banged her head against the side window as well.”
Nodding, Marcus washed his hands before coming over. “So this is the woman who bought Jessup’s place,” he said calmly as he began to examine her. “Rather startling with her deep black hair. What color are her eyes?”
Brent responded before he thought about it. “Brown.”
“Hmm,” Marcus responded conversationally. “How long has she been out?”
“Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.”
“Well, I would like to—” He stopped speaking as Charmagne groaned. “Ahh, the patient is alive,” he said in dry amusement.
****
Blinking her eyes open, Char moaned as she grabbed her head. A dull pounding came from her left side and she just wished it to go away. Surely she had not hit the seat that hard? Blinking the haze out of her eyes, she was surprised to find herself not in the cab of her truck, but lying flat on her back looking up at two men, one of them Brent Carmichael. “Uh… what am I doing here?”
The man she did not recognize chuckled. “Ms. Kendle. My name is Dr. Marcus Devon. Do you remember what happened?”
“My truck hit a tree.”
He smiled and nodded. “And what date is it?”
“You have got to be kidding me.” Wasn’t that the kind of question they asked on television?
Brent coughed and she felt her hand squeezed. “Marcus rarely kids. What date is it?”
Sighing and rolling her eyes, which made her wince, she told them. “And I just moved here and it snowed more than I expected, and my truck decided not to make it up my hill. Any other stupid questions you want to ask?” Immediately she regretted her tone. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so…”
Marcus patted her shoulder. “Quite understandable, my dear. I'm not exactly partial to accidents either.” He placed a hand in front of her face. “Follow my finger.” She did everything he asked, no matter how stupid it sounded, and finally he nodded. “Well, you don't seem to have a concussion, which is good, but if you begin to feel dizzy or have trouble seeing, please call me right away. We have an air lift service that can take you to Denver if you have problems,” he explained, going over to a set of drawers. “Are you allergic to anything?”
“Uh, no?”
“Good. I will give you a shot for the pain and for inflammation. Then I will bandage up that cut and you should be ready to go. Do you have someone to stay with you tonight?”
“No, I moved here on my own. I’ll be fine.”
“I can stay with her,” Brent said. She turned her head sharply to glare at him and then moaned as the world began to shift. “Don’t move quickly,” he said in a kind voice. “You did hurt your head.”
Duh, she thought, but did not say it aloud. A low chuckle came from Marcus’s direction.
Brent and Marcus spoke in quiet voices as she was given two shots and four stitches. When he finished the tape on her bandage, she was glad. Doctors were not her favorite people.
“I would like to see you tomorrow,” Marcus said as Brent helped her to her feet.
“I’m sure I’ll be fi—”
“I'll bring her by. What time?” This time she did not swing her head to look at him, but she glared daggers at the floor, imagining it as his face. How dare he just lord it over her?
And worse, how dare it make her body tingle in a way she had not felt in a very long time?
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said after he insisted on carrying her back out to his huge monster truck and setting her in the passenger seat as gently as if she were a baby. “I’ll just go to bed the moment I ge—”
“No, you won’t,” he said firmly as he put the key in the ignition and started up the beast with a mild roar.
“You were in an accident, Ms. Kendle, and hit your head. You need to be watched tonight and, as you don't have someone else to do it, I will.”
The words should have set her off, but strangely she felt taken care of. She was not sure how to feel about that and, as she was not sure how to respond, she changed the subject. “There's all sorts of food in my truck. It's probably frozen by now.” Great, she’d just purchased all that food and it would probably be unusable.
“I texted Lelo to check out your truck. Knowing his wife, Kelli, she would have noticed the food and put it somewhere safe.”
That was… strange. Nice, but strange. Who goes out of their way to look after their neighbors like this? What was this? The twenty-first century version of Leave It To Beaver?
Even with the pain medication, her head still hurt and she found herself squinting since even though it was dark, there was still a tremendous amount of snow falling and, combined with what was already on the ground, it was rather blinding in the headlights. As Brent turned onto her drive, she tensed, sure that at any moment they would slide backward and this time she would end up in the hospital.
Surprisingly, his vehicle never swerved or slid once, just made slow and easy progress up the hill. When they pulled around the trees, it was to find her truck and a tractor parked in front of her garage. “I’ll get you inside and then talk to Lelo about your truck.”
Okay, so that was taking things a bit too far. It was obvious he was a nice guy, but he was also a bit of a Neanderthal. She could take care of herself; she had been doing it for close to thirty years. The problem was fighting the person inside who was shouting Let him do it, dummy!
Between the day she’d had and the meds the doctor had given her, she was actually stunned when he suddenly appeared on her side of the truck, quickly undoing her seatbelt and lifting her up just as gently as he’d put her down.
“Hey, Lelo,” he called to a small man with short gray hair and a thin mustache. “Can you bring me her keys?” Before Lelo could answer, her front door opened.