by Livia Grant
Brent greets his host. “Hey, Traci. Char wanted to come over with me. She’s worried about you having an intruder in your house. There was just no way we could take Kayla out on a night like this. I told her you’d understand. She wasn’t so sure.”
Traci smiles. “I would have been so upset if she’d come out in this weather. I debated even calling you, but knowing you as I do, I knew you’d be upset if I didn’t. Still, I’d have been unhappy if she’d brought the baby out in this weather.”
“Damn straight. What the hell happened?”
Traci looks nervously at Troy, suddenly tongue tied at how to explain exactly what had happened here tonight. She looks away from both men and Troy can see guilt is playing on her face. Troy steps in to answer Brent’s questions. “Tonight, or should I say last night now, was Traci’s thirtieth birthday. I came over from Denver to surprise her, but she had already gone out for the night…” He glances at his sister before continuing. “…with friends. I had a key so I was waiting to surprise her when she got home. It was late. We were both up, here in the living room, when the young woman barged into the room.”
Brent has been watching them both carefully. He is a smart man. He has to have picked up on the fact Troy is leaving details out of the story. To his credit, he seems to be choosing his questions carefully. “I see. Did the intruder knock first or just come in?”
Traci answers quietly. “She didn’t knock, no.”
“Can I ask why the door wasn’t locked? It was after midnight, right?”
“Traci and I were… talking. She hadn’t been home long at that point and I would have secured all of the doors before we went to bed.” Troy’s answer seems to placate the tall man for a minute.
“Why didn’t you just call 911 to report the break-in?”
Troy is surprised. Calling the police had honestly never even crossed his mind. “If you’d seen her, you wouldn’t have called the police either. She’s a little waif of a thing. She didn’t have any weapons. She was shaking from head to toe. Frozen like a popsicle. It’s clear she needs help.”
“What is her condition now?” Brent has turned to Traci, wanting her to answer as the professional in the room.
“She’s asleep. Marcus gave her some pain meds. He’s gone to his office to bring back some additional supplies. We have her changed out of her wet clothes and are warming her with warming blankets. My guess is she wasn’t dressed to be outside, but must have had car troubles that forced her to walk for help. My house is the first one people come to when they come in on Spanking Loop and since we had our lights on, well I think she just was coming to get some help.”
The Corbin’s Bend founding father seems satisfied with that answer. Troy is relieved. He doesn’t really want anyone else to know about his sister’s foolish decisions last night and the punishment he had delivered. He still knows he had done the right thing, but that doesn’t mean anyone beside him and his sister need to be privy to it. Between her shower, punishment and the commotion, the effects of her alcoholic bender have dissipated.
“I’m gonna have to give my friends with the sheriff’s department a call and let them know this happened.” Troy is not happy and Brent holds up his hand. “I can see you don’t like that idea, Troy, but we need to get some help to find out who this young woman is. Her family might be looking for her. Wouldn’t you want to know your loved one had been found safe if you were expecting them and they were delayed like this?”
Troy hates to admit it, but Brent’s logic is spot on. Unfortunately, the thought of some abusive family member looking for her so they can have her home to hurt her more pisses Troy off. “You’re right. We do need to find out who she is, but we’re not going to just ship her off home. Did Traci tell you they found signs she had been abused before coming to Corbin’s Bend?”
Brent scowls. “No. That’s new info.” The front door opens and the doctor rushes in then slams the door closed quickly to stop more snow from blowing in. Brent then finishes his thought. “I guess it’s more important than ever that we get the police involved so we can find out who she is.”
“She’s Hallie Boudreaux. She is twenty-three years old and lives in Santa Monica, California.” All three people in the kitchen turn to stare at the doctor in shock before he explains. “I found her purse buried out in the snow. She must have dropped it before she came inside.” He holds up a wallet as if to support his claim.
Troy is sure they are all four thinking the same thing. How the hell does a twenty-three year old woman from California show up on foot in Corbin’s Bend in the middle of the night? The one thing Troy is sure of is that Hallie Boudreaux is running from something… or someone. Troy had seen fear in her eyes and for some reason, it haunts him. Someone has hurt her and while he may not understand how or why, he does know that he’s going to have to find them and make them pay.
Standing to leave, Brent sighs. “All right. It sounds like the three of you have things under control here. Keep her comfortable and safe for the night, and I’m gonna go home and call my buddies with the sheriff’s department and get them working on finding out what they can about Miss Hallie Boudreaux. I’ll be back in the morning and we can hopefully talk with her by then and try to get to the bottom of what’s going on. Sound like a plan?”
Troy sees why the tall man is in charge. He would have done well in the military. The doctor is the one who responds. “It’s a plan, Brent. I’m going to get her IV going and then I’ll sleep here to keep an eye on her.”
Before he stops to check his tone, Troy butts in. “Thanks for starting the IV, but I’ll be sleeping in the arm chair in her room tonight. I’ll keep an eye on her and if I need help, I’ll wake up Traci and we’ll give you a call.” As the three other people in the room look at him strangely, he tries to downplay things. “Listen, I saw the fear in her eyes just before she collapsed. I don’t know why, but I feel like she came here for a reason and I’m supposed to protect her until she can be up and on her own two feet. Really. I was gonna sleep in the guest room anyway so let me do that and you two go home to get a few hours of sleep with your families.”
Marcus and Brent share a knowing look before agreeing. “Fine. We’ll be back in the morning then.”
Chapter Four
Pain is the first thing to pry Hallie awake, followed closely by an urgent need to pee. She opens her eyes for a split second before the light pouring through the nearby curtains feels like it’s burning her eyeballs and she snaps her eyes closed with a moan.
Her head is throbbing. She suspects the pain might be caused by more than just her normal morning caffeine addiction. Everything seems fuzzy and she takes a few minutes to try to piece together where she is. Memories of the car accident and being freezing cold come back to her followed by memories of a tall stranger with chocolate brown eyes. Unfortunately, she also remembers his brown belt that he’d wielded with practiced skill.
‘All men are assholes.’
As much as she dreads trying to navigate out of bed with her head feeling like a ticking time bomb, the urge to pee wins. Opening her eyes slowly, allowing time to adjust to the daylight, Hallie gasps when she realizes she’s not alone in the room. Propped up rather uncomfortably in the cushioned armchair at the foot of her bed is none other than the man of the house. What was his name again? Oh yes. Troy.
‘I wish it were Fred or something gross. I’ve always liked the name Troy, but now he’s ruined it.’
The sad thing is, he looks like a Troy. At least the kind of guy she would match with the name. She’s glad he’s asleep, not only because she wants no part of being in a room with him alone, but also so she has a few minutes to check him out without fear.
She remembers him being tall, but then again, at five foot one, everyone seems tall to her. She can see his long legs are stretched out as he lays his head on the back cushion of the chair. He doesn’t look so scary now. In fact, he looks peaceful in sleep. His strong jaw is covered with a sexy, scruffy beard and hi
s dark hair is cropped short. He’s still dressed in the mint-green dress shirt and dark slacks he had on the night before.
‘Definitely not a scruffy musician.’
That realization actually works in his favor with Hallie. She’s had her fill of musicians to last her lifetime. Then it hits her. She’d hoped getting away from Eddie and the band would help her feel safe, yet the very first people she meets in what was to be her new home town turn out to be in just as an abusive relationship as she had been in California. It’s just another sad realization that since she lost her grandmother, violence seems to follow her wherever she goes.
The need to pee jars her out of her trip down memory lane. As Hallie makes her first attempt to get out of bed, she realizes she’s tethered to an IV bag, courtesy of the needle lodged in the top of her left hand. She’s glad she’d been knocked out when the doctor put that in. She hates needles.
Even though it will mean taking the long way around the bed to get out the door in search of a bathroom, Hallie knows she needs to stick with her IV stand. Pulling it out is the only thing worse than having it in. Pushing the warm covers off, she gets a look at the long flannel nightgown someone had dressed her in the night before. She’s praying it was the woman named Traci and not her husband, Troy.
Moving slowly, Hallie swings her legs over the side of the bed and struggles to push up into a sitting position. She has to rest a minute to let her body adjust to being upright. The pressure on her bladder in her new position has her rushing to find the restroom. The bed is so tall; her feet don’t reach the floor. She tentatively maneuvers her body into position to try to ease her feet to the carpet, but her foot gets tangled in the long IV cord, and she has to grasp the pole holding the bag in an attempt to stop her from falling forward. Unfortunately, the pole is on wheels, and too late, she knows what’s going to happen next.
‘Damn. This is gonna hurt.’
Moving like a ninja, Troy springs out of the chair at the foot of the bed and reaches out to catch Hallie, just before she would have face-planted onto the floor. She falls ungracefully into his outstretched arms face first, their chests slamming together, letting her know her first assessment of his athletic body had been spot on.
“Whoa there. You really shouldn’t try to get out of bed yet. We’re pretty sure you have a concussion.” He doesn’t sound like the devil incarnate, but then again, Eddie hides his temper well, too, when he wants to.
Trying to push away from him, Hallie awkwardly informs him. “I really need to pee.” By now he has her stabilized on her feet, and she’s wondering why he isn’t backing off. With their height difference, she finds herself staring into the buttons of his shirt. She tries again to push him back, but she might as well be pushing on a one-ton boulder for all the good it does. He has his arms wrapped around her, keeping her upright.
They stand there awkwardly until Troy uses a finger to lift her chin so she has no choice but to look him in the eyes. She sees him inspecting her forehead and remembers hitting the steering wheel. “How does your head feel today? You have quite the goose-egg, although it does look like the swelling has gone down some overnight.”
Why does he pretend to even care? And more importantly, why is he in here instead of the doctor or his wife? Allowing her anger to return, Hallie confronts him. “Listen, I need to go to the bathroom, and I’d like to do it without you pawing me, if you don’t mind.”
She sees a brief flash of something that looks like anger, reminding her how stupid it is for her to pick a fight with a guy twice her size. Under the best of conditions he could hurt her in a heartbeat. In her current condition, he could snap her like a twig. She’s relieved when his voice doesn’t betray any anger. “Okay, so you need to get to the bathroom. That’s fine, but you are gonna need my help. For starters, you have no idea where it is, but more importantly, you’re going to need help navigating there with this IV pole dragging behind.” He pauses to give his words time to sink in before continuing. “Come on, Hallie. Let me help you.”
She gasps. “How do you know my name?”
“Dr. Devon found your purse out in the driveway in the snow. You must have dropped it last night on your way here.”
Hallie doesn’t remember dropping her purse, but then again, she doesn’t remember much from that last leg of her journey on foot. Freezing, exhausted and wet, she had had to dig deep to just keep putting one foot in front of the other to try to get to safety.
She’s happy when Troy doesn’t dally anymore. He reaches out to grab the pole with one hand while allowing her to lean on his other arm heavily. They only make it a couple of steps, though, when they both realize this isn’t working. Obviously, his wife is much taller than Hallie because the long flannel nightgown is dragging on the floor, tripping her up with each step she takes. She has to choose between holding the gown up or holding onto Troy’s arm for support.
Taking the decision out of her hands, Troy scoops her up into his arms as if she were a rag doll. “Oh. Wait. Put me down!”
“Don’t be silly. You’re gonna trip and fall. Grab onto the pole.”
And that’s how Hallie travels out the bedroom, across and down the hall covered in photo frames of every shape and size and into a large bathroom, pulling her IV pole behind them. She wants to scream for him to get his hands off her. She doesn’t want or need help from a guy who takes joy in beating his wife until she cries, yet honestly, at this very moment, she wonders if her memory is playing tricks on her. Surely this handsome guy who is doing nothing but being kind to her couldn’t be the same man from the night before.
Troy setting her onto her feet next to the toilet jars her out of her thoughts. She looks up to catch him looking at her. “Okay, I’m gonna leave you in here, but I’ll be right outside the door so shout out if you need help. Okay?”
“I’m fine. You can just leave.” Her tone is sharp.
Hallie watches him closely, suspecting he’ll get angry, but surprised when Troy instead places his index finger under her chin, lifting her face up to make sure she is listening. Hallie flinches away from his touch and Troy doesn’t push her.
The look in his eyes is so intense. His words even more so. “Listen, Hallie. I have absolutely no idea what’s happened in your life that had you out walking in a blizzard in the middle of the night, but it’s clear you need help. I’m going to give you that help, whether you like it or not. So… use the restroom. Wash your hands. I’ll leave out a washcloth so you can wash your face and then you can call me back in. I’ll be outside the door and then I’d like to escort you back to bed safely.” If she didn’t know better, she could swear he is daring her to talk back. She has every intention to. Who does he think he is?
And then he does it. He breaks into a smile that could light up Times Square. The sexy dimple on his chin peaks through the scruffy beard and she suddenly understands what his wife sees in him. Abusive asshole or not, the man can melt hearts.
“Hallie? Will you call me if you need help?”
‘Tell him to fuck off… tell him to fuck off…’
“Yes, I will,” is what comes out of her mouth instead.
‘What the hell is wrong with me? Tell him to fuck off!’
The words are on her tongue when she hears his “Good girl.” Two deadlier words have never been spoken. They are her Achilles’ heel. That’s all she’s ever tried to be - a good girl.
Leaving her in stunned silence, Troy moves quietly to the door, closing it behind him. She barely holds it together, letting loose her pent up sobs the second the door clicks closed. She hopes Troy hadn’t heard her from the other side of the wood. She doesn’t want to give him any more power over her than he apparently already has.
* * * * *
Troy flips the bacon before loading the toaster with two slices of wheat bread. His thoughts are all over the place this morning, remembering the events of the last twelve hours. Is it really possible so much has happened in such a short period of time?
; After getting Hallie safely back into bed, he’d retreated to the kitchen to make breakfast, but more importantly, work on getting his emotions in check. First Traci and now Hallie. Both women bringing out the protective side of his nature Kathy had been sure to point out was so 1950’s.
For a while there, Kathy had managed to convince him something was wrong with him for being so behind the times. So old-fashioned as she called him. It’s taken him almost a year since their break-up to acknowledge their relationship’s demise had been the best thing for both of them. He’s spent the last year figuring out what was really going to make him happy in life and his move back to Colorado to be closer to his sister… and Corbin’s Bend… was a big part of his journey. He’d met so many couples during his weeklong visit last summer. He’d learned firsthand that he wasn’t the only one that believed in the power of domestic discipline (DD), as old-fashioned as some make it out to be. Old-fashioned or not, he’s seen it make for strong relationships. On the flip side, he sees examples every day in his co-workers and friends how messed up many relationships are without the kind of structure and intimacy DD provides.
It’s easy to get lost in thought as he puts on a fresh pot of coffee. He’s come to the conclusion that he’s a modern man in all things… except relationships. He works with cutting edge technology every day. The kind of stuff only those with a top security clearance like himself are privy to. He drives a new SUV with all the bells and whistles. Loves to snap up the newest gadgets the second they hit the market. Listens to cutting edge, new music of every genre.
There’s just one pocket of his life where Troy refuses to trade in his archaic views. Plain and simple, a man wears the pants in a family. Troy is more than happy to share leadership with women in all other aspects of his life, spare one. His home. His bed. As he has found, technically that’s two distinctly different things, at least according to every woman he has dated in the last ten years.
