Finding Floyd
By Melinda Peters
Copyright 2016 by Melinda Peters
Smashwords Edition
Discover other titles by Melinda Peters
Keeping Victoria's Secret
Taming Theresa
This eBook 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 your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is dedicated to the memory of Eric Stephen Fendley. One of the nicest people to ever live in a town known for its nice folks. He is sorely missed.
Special thanks go to my good friends in Floyd.
James and Stephanie Shortt were both helpful with answers to my legal questions in this series, especially information regarding the Floyd County Sheriff's Department.
John and Joanne Sholar provided useful information on the subjects of firearms, hunting, black bears, and local Floyd County culture.
Sally Sagebiel was a delightful source for information concerning the operation of a B & B. Her husband, Neil Sagebiel, a local published author and blogger, has been tremendously supportive to not only me, but to the community of writer's in Southwest Virginia.
Thanks everyone for helping to make Finding Floyd possible.
The cover is a picture I snapped of the view from our home. Floyd, Virginia, a beautiful place to live.
This book is a work of fiction. Any errors contained are my own. Similarity between the characters in this book and persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
"Come on, Colby-Jack. Come on inside kitty." Diane coaxed. "Here, kitty kitty. Come on Colby. You don't want to be out there in the rain and sleet, do you? Please come inside."
Lying along the porch rail, the big yellow and white tomcat stared at the girl suspiciously, his tail swishing. His large green eyes closed gradually to tiny slits, then opened wide reflecting the light spilling from the open kitchen door. Behind him was a curtain of inky black night, where a persistent pelting sleet coated the ground with an ice crust.
It was one of those early spring storms referred to as a wintery mix. It had started earlier in the day, with a steady rain that turned to ice as the temperature dropped. The cold sleet rattled on, unseen in the dark, ominously increasing in its intensity by the minute.
The cat didn't budge from his perch. Diane sighed and shivered at the back door. The cold was already finding its way beneath her skimpy pajamas and robe. I can't stand out here all night freezing to death, pleading like an idiot with a stupid cat. She took one tentative step onto the porch, feeling the cold through her thin slippers.
Glancing back longingly into the brightly lit warm house, she debated going back inside for her shoes and a coat. Flames flickered comfortingly on the hearth where Bella, the collie, was sleeping curled up in her bed near the fire. Smart dog!
Turning back to the stubborn cat, she stepped towards him, beckoning with the food bowl. "Colby, I've got stinky cat food for you," she cooed. "Come on in out of the rain, silly kitty."
Colby-Jack tensed his muscles, shifting his bulk away from her. Irritated, Diane took two more steps, to the top of the stairs and reached for him, but he leapt down and planted himself on the second step as ice rained down, clinging to his thick coat.
She felt the sting of sleet on her cheek. It was coming down fast, hard as buckshot, rattling on the frozen ground. The stupid cat was going to freeze to death. Shivering with cold, she reached out hoping to grab him by the scruff of his neck. Her foot made contact with the icy step and she went down hard, sliding down the porch steps onto the back yard, cat food flying everywhere.
"Damn! I knew I should have gone back in for my coat and shoes. I'm soaked already!" Miserably she tried to lift her wet robe out from under her. "I'm going to murder you; you stupid cat!" She grabbed angrily for Colby-Jack, but he leapt gracefully away from her and onto the porch where he turned his back and began grooming himself.
"Ouch!" She wasn't on the soft dried grass of winter, but on hard smooth ice. Reaching for the bottom step, she tried to dig her fingers in and climb back up, but slipped again, sliding even farther from the porch.
The lawn sloped gently away from the house. Screaming in frustration, she struggled to get up, but slid slowly down the slope. The cat watched curiously from above, framed in the rectangle of light from the open door. As she watched helplessly, Colby-Jack turned and walked regally into the house treating her to one last view of his furry backside and quivering tail.
Her downward progress was checked by a large woodpile stacked at the bottom of the hill. Annoyed with herself and the cat, she got to hands and knees and carefully began to crawl. Encouraged, she advanced a few yards toward the light, but with nothing to hold on to, she lost her grip. Whimpering in frustration, she slipped back to the wood pile.
Now she was miserable and angry. Her robe and pajamas were soaked through. Where her warm body came in contact with the ice, it melted just enough to wet everything. Pellets fell on her head, melting and dripping into her ears and eyes. Her hands and feet were growing numb.
Lights shone from the windows and the open back door. For a few yards around the house the lights revealed the glistening ice field. Far off down the road she could just barely make out pinpoints of light from neighboring houses. She looked over her shoulder to the gravel road that wound up the ridge to where that nice Mr. Evans lived. There was nothing in that direction but impenetrable darkness.
If I yell as loud as I can, will he hear me? Oh my god, I'm all alone. No one knows I'm out here. Suddenly, she was frantic with fear. This was such a big mistake. Why did I ever agree to come to this miserable place?
It was supposed to be so simple. All I had to do was to come down and house-sit Sandy's B & B. It's closed, so there are no guests to deal with. All I have to do is hang out and take care of the dog and that stupid cat while Sandy takes her mother on a two week cruise. It seemed like such a good idea to get away for a while and have some time to myself. Now, I wish I'd never left Pippin's Grove.
The nearest neighbor, Mr. Evans, had come by yesterday with homemade blackberry jam and a frozen lump of his own, as he called it, whole hog sausage. "Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything at all while Sandy's gone," he'd said, slapping a post-it note with his phone number on the refrigerator. A lot of good that's doing me now. Will he think to come down and check on me in the storm? Oh my god. No one knows I'm out here; I'm going to freeze to death and there's no one to come and help me.
Desperately, she tried to crawl again. As before, she made some progress toward the house and safety before sliding backwards coming up hard against the wood pile. By now she was shivering uncontrollably and her teeth were chattering. Crying softly, her tears mingled with the icy rivulets coursing down her cheeks. Oh God, I'm going to die. They say freezing to death isn't too bad. It's just like going to sleep.
With renewed strength born of fear, she made a third attempt to claw her way up the slope getting a little farther this time. Come on Diane. You can do this. She dug into the ice with her fingernails and tried to make careful indentations with her knees to gain traction. Inch by painful inch, she crawled closer to the light streaming from the house. If they weren't already numb from the cold, she knew her hands and knees would be aching. Almost there! Only a few more yards to go.
"Oh no! Oh my god no!" she wailed, as she felt herself slipping backwards. In a few seconds she was back where
she'd started, up against the wood pile, sobbing with fear and frustration. I can't believe this. I'm going to freeze to death out here. I'll be covered in ice. They won't even find me until spring.
Then she heard something that wasn't her chattering teeth or the hissing sleet. It was an engine. Slowly, it was coming this way. Yes, a car or a truck was coming slowly down the Christiansburg Pike. The road must be treacherous with the ice. Yes, there it was. She saw the gleam of headlights.
"Help!" Crazy with fear, she screamed at the top of her lungs. "I'm out here! I need help! Please, oh please, help!" To her amazement, the headlights turned and the car pulled carefully into the driveway next to the B & B, slowing to a stop. The lights flicked out and she heard a car door slam.
"Help me! I'm down here!" she yelled.
Moments later, a figure appeared, framed in the light of the doorway. "Hey, is anyone here? You left the door wide open."
"Yes!" she called in a quavering voice. "Please help me. I'm stuck out here and I'm freezing!"
"What happened? Sandy, are you hurt?"
"Please hurry!" she screamed shaking with cold. Her wet hair was ice encrusted and her knees, hands and feet felt like they were burning.
"I can't see you. Where are you?"
"Here, by the woodpile," she stammered, weakly. "I slipped on the ice and can't get back up. Please hurry, I'm freezing."
The figure on the porch moved away from the light. As she watched, the man tentatively tried the steps and slipped himself, grabbing for the porch railing.
"Holy shit," he growled. "Man, this is slick. I've never seen anything like it."
"Be careful!" Diane whimpered again, despairing. The guy wasn't going to be able to save her in time.
"Stay put. I'll find a way to get to you."
"Hurry!" Diane said, through chattering teeth. "I'm going numb. C-c-can't feel anything." She looked up at the warm inviting lights of the house and suddenly everything went black. She screamed, sure that she was dying.
"Looks like the power went out. Must be because of the storm. I'll be right back."
Diane heard his footfalls on the porch again, then crunching on the ice beyond. She heard a heavy thud and he swore angrily. A car door opened and slammed shut a moment later. She saw the dancing beam of a flashlight coming around the house. From the porch, the beam played over her.
"Okay, I see you. Now listen carefully. Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to get down there somehow and bring you back up. Do you understand?"
"Yes, please hurry!"
"All right, stay put."
She heard him rooting around on the porch. The flashlight beam danced crazily and she heard a dull chunking sound as something bit into the ice.
"Hold on. I'm cutting footholds with an axe. Be there in a minute," he called, but she didn't answer.
She heard grunting and thudding. What was he doing? Digging with an axe? The sounds seemed far away and time slowed. The sleet continued pelting down. She was thoroughly soaked, her hair, robe, and pajamas were slick with a crust of ice. When he finally reached her, she was vaguely aware of the flashlight beam playing over her face.
She started when the ax slammed into the woodpile over her head; and then she was lifted onto his back with one swift movement. His powerful muscles moved smoothly and she felt light as a feather as he carried her inside.
She was barely aware as he stripped the sodden clothes from her body. Grabbing a quilt from the couch, he wrapped it around her, and dumped her shivering into a chair.
“I’ll get some towels.”
Then he was back, rubbing her with dry towels. She watched mutely as he went to the hearth and tossed wood onto the fire, building it to a roaring blaze that lit up the room. The heat from the fire felt wonderful.
"Diane? What the hell? What are you doing here?"
She knew that voice. With an effort she opened her eyes and saw, in the light from the flickering flames, the handsome face of Christopher Owen.
* * *
The sleet continued so furiously he could hardly see. It landed in his hair and on his collar, melting against his warm skin and dripping under his jacket, but he didn't dare stop slicing his way down the slope. The girl had stopped calling to him and she wasn't moving anymore. What if I don't reach her in time? The ice was thick, but the axe blade broke through as stroke by stroke, he worked his way toward her. When Chris reached the girl, he shone his flashlight over her and saw she was covered with ice. I've got to get her inside fast!
Lifting her onto his back in the fireman's carry position, he carefully retraced his steps following the holes he'd cut into the frozen slope. When he reached the back steps, he hauled them both up by the railing with his free hand. Kicking the door closed, he rushed her to the hearth and stood her in front of the fire.
Propping her up with one hand, he stripped her soaking wet clothes off. Tossing her things aside, he grabbed a blanket from the couch, wrapped it around the naked girl and pushed her into a chair.
“I’ll get some towels.” Sprinting from the room, he returned with a stack of towels and dropped them on the floor. Lifting the trembling girl, he wrapped a large one around her dripping hair. Draping another around her shoulders, he rubbed her down like a child after her bath. Then he fed the fire until it blazed high, lighting up the room. That was when he recognized her.
"Diane? What the hell? What are you doing here?" He pulled away to stare at her in amazement and the towel slid down, pooling around her feet. The flickering glow of the flames danced on her wet skin. Light played over the swell of her breasts, down her stomach to the golden curls that topped her long legs. His eyes roved over her gleaming body slowly until they met hers again.
“You’re beautiful,” he said softly. He rose up slowly, breaking the spell, and then enfolded her naked body into a soft quilt.
Shivering, she stammered, "How did you know I was here?"
"I didn't."
He kicked off his boots and began to undress. She backed away, as he unbuttoned his shirt, tugged it out of his pants and shrugged it off. He pulled his undershirt over his head revealing broad shoulders and soft brown hair across his muscular chest that tapered nicely to his trim waist. Finally, he unbuckled his belt and stripped down to his boxers, tossing his clothes beside her wet robe and pajamas. He threw the quilt over the recliner and reached for her, but she drew back.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
“I’m going to hold you for a while,” he said ignoring her protests. Lifting her, he sank down in the large easy chair, wrapped the big blanket around them both, and held the shivering girl in his arms to warm her. “There’s no heat. Power's off, remember?”
He was instantly aware of her nakedness, cold against his warm skin.
“I’m okay,” she said struggling to sit up, but his strong arms held her.
“Sure you are.”
“Honestly, you don’t have to do this.”
“Diane, give me a break. You're freezing. There’s no heat. My clothes are drenched and I’m not going out any time soon to get my stuff from the car.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry,” she said weakly. She leaned stiffly against him, not relaxing.
“What’s the matter? Do you think I’m going to bite?”
Diane turned and gave him a cool look. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
Grinning, he tucked her head under his chin and hugged her. “Smart girl.”
Chapter 2
When she woke, Diane was alone, swathed in blankets before dancing flames in the big stone fireplace. Snuggling into the big comfortable recliner, she stretched her feet towards the fire and sighed. Chris had held her, warming her with his body until she began to relax and fell asleep.
She touched the towel he'd wrapped around her hair. I must look like a mummy, but I don’t care. It feels so good to be warm. Even the burning and tingling sensations in her hands and feet had subsided.
She looked around for Chris, and then
heard him in the kitchen. She'd met the handsome FBI agent the previous October while helping with her friend, Victoria’s, wedding. He'd been in her home town to arrest a drug dealer, but his crazy female partner, Agent Rodriguez, had arrested her instead. I know Chris only pretended to be interested in me so he could catch that guy. He was probably seeing Rodriguez the whole time. She looked toward the kitchen. So, what’s he doing down here in Floyd?
"How do you feel?"
She turned to see him filling the doorway to the kitchen, concern on his handsome face. "Much better, thanks." She tilted her head to study him. Why did he have to be so nice and so good looking? He was square jawed with beautiful blue eyes and blond hair. Well over six-feet tall and powerfully built, his muscular arms stretched the shoulders of his red flannel shirt. Her heart gave a little flutter, just as it had when she first met him.
"What do you take in your tea? I made you a cup."
"Thanks. There's a jar of honey on the counter. Could you put in a spoonful?"
He was back in a moment setting a steaming mug at her elbow, then tucked the blankets more snuggly around her legs. "Warm enough? You really scared me. I was going to call 911 if you didn't wake up soon, but I don't know if they could even get here with all the ice."
"It's okay. I'm fine now." She sipped at her tea.
"Just a minute," he said, and returned with a mug of his own. "Are you hungry?"
"No, I had dinner already." She met his concerned look. "Thank God you came along. I was really frightened out there alone in the dark. I thought for sure I'd freeze to death."
"I'm just glad I got here in time." He sat down next to her.
Finding Floyd Page 1
