Coulson's Crucible

by Anna J. McIntyre

  Coulson’s Crucible

  Anna J. McIntyre

  Robeth Publishing, LLC

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Coulson’s Lessons

  The Coulson Series

  Unlocked Hearts Series

  Bobbi Holmes

  Haunting Danielle Series

  Also by Bobbi Ann Johnson Holmes

  Coulson’s Crucible

  By Anna J. McIntyre

  * * *

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Robeth Publishing, LLC

  Copyright © 2013 Bobbi Holmes

  This is a work of fiction.

  Robeth Publishing, LLC, All Rights Reserved.

  For Mom, my greatest fan and cheerleader.

  Thanks for all that you do.

  Prologue

  He had finally stopped crying, but she knew he would start again. He always did. Vera made her way up the rear staircase of Coulson House carrying her three-month-old son, who slept soundly in her arms. Someone might see her if she used the main staircase.

  No one went to the third floor, except for the household staff, to clean the unused rooms. Speculation varied as to why her father-in-law had built such an impressive estate. Some said it was for his wife, Mary Ellen, while others insisted it was to show the world he was committed to his project—developing the resort community, which he founded and that bore his name.

  Her mother-in-law, Mary Ellen Coulson, had decorated the mansion. Just months after moving into the impressive estate, Mary Ellen had died in its library on the first floor. She was just forty-nine.

  Vera wanted to go outside, breathe in the fresh air. Walking into one of the rooms on the third floor, she paid little notice to the ornate furnishings and impressive artwork. Instead, she walked through the room to the French doors leading to the balcony.

  It was breezy outside. Vera held the sleeping bundle tighter. She didn’t want to wake Russell. Closing her eyes, Vera breathed in the crisp December air, escaping for a moment the prison that was her life. If she could just be free, fly far away from her pain, her sadness. Without thought, she climbed onto the wide banister surrounding the balcony and looked down. It took considerable effort to maintain balance, especially while holding the sleeping babe.

  “Mother!” Vera’s eight-year old son, Garret, shouted as he raced through the doorway onto the balcony. His sudden and unexpected appearance caused Vera to lose her balance for a brief moment, but she reached out with her free hand and grabbed the outside of the building to steady herself.

  “Please, Mother, get down, you could fall!” Garret begged.

  Vera looked down at her son and smiled. “Don’t be silly, Garret. I can fly. Come.” She reached her hand out to him. “Join me, and I’ll show you.”

  “No, please, get down!” Garret began to cry.

  “Here, you’ll see,” Vera said calmly.

  Turning away from Garret, she stood precariously atop the banister. Closing her eyes, she prepared to take flight when a gust of air hit the front of her body, sending her sprawling backward onto the balcony floor. The fall woke Russell, who began to cry, but he remained secure in his mother’s arms. Garret ran from the balcony.

  The abrupt fall knocked the air from Vera’s fragile body. Colliding against the balcony floor was painful, yet nothing appeared to be broken. Attempting to catch her breath, she held tight onto the squirming baby. Opening her eyes, Vera looked into the face of Mary Ellen Coulson. Transfixed by the apparition, Vera’s eyes widened. The next moment, Mary Ellen was gone.

  Chapter 1

  With one little foot in front of the other, she ran faster and faster. Her arms, bent at the elbows, pumped frantically back and forth, while the riotous beat of her heart pounded relentlessly. Barely able to catch her breath, she knew they wanted to kill her.

  A safe haven was almost within sight, and if she could just reach it in time, she might escape her enemies. Then she saw it and was relieved to find the door was already propped open. There would be no need to pause and take the time to pull open the heavy door and risk capture.

  Without missing a beat, Alexandra flew through the open doorway into her sanctuary, kicking the doorstop on her way in, closing the door behind her. She felt a momentary sense of relief. It was short lived, for after she entered the room and looked around, she discovered her protector was not there. To make the situation worse, she was not alone.

  Tears filled her hazel eyes as she stared into the frightening face of the stranger. Paralyzed with fear, she stood frozen to the spot and glanced back at the doorway, wondering briefly if it might be possible to escape without encountering the three thugs who vowed revenge.

  Looking back to the stranger, who sat quietly in the chair, studying her with serious blue eyes, Alexandra took a deep breath and rallied her courage. “Where’s my mommy?” she asked with a quivering voice.

  He sat there a moment longer, just staring, before he stood up and walked in her direction—more a swagger than a walk. Taller than many of the other high school boys, he wore faded Levi’s and a snug fitting white T-shirt, that accentuated instead of concealed the well-toned muscles of his chest and arms. His short dark hair wasn’t as conservative as a crewcut, yet not as brazen as the pompadour.

  “Is your mom Mrs. Chamberlain?”

  She gave a nod in the affirmative when the door burst open. Three of her brother’s classmates rushed in, bent on revenge.

  “Hey baby, your mama’s in the office and she ain’t gonna help you none!” Andy Smith threatened with a sneer.

  Alexandra could no longer hold back the tears. They slid silently down her face, giving testimony to the fact Andy was right; Alexandra was a baby. She hated showing her weakness, yet she didn’t regret kicking Andy in the shins earlier, but now it was three against one—four if you counted the teenager—and that was simply not fair. Alexandra did not expect what happened next.

  The tall stranger turned and addressed the three boys, speaking in a low and menacing voice. “You boys bother this kid again and your mamas won't know what happened to your scrawny little butts. Kids like you can get lost real easy in the mountains. If I so much as hear that you or any of your friends ever bother her again, you'll hear from Garret Coulson, personally."

  Practically tripping over each other, the three boys hastily fled from the schoolroom, leaving Alexandra alone with Garret. Leaning down on his bent knee, Garret pulled Alexandra toward him and gently brushed away her tears with the back of his hand. He smiled at the trembling child.

  "Thank you," she whispered, blinking away tears, her thick dark lashes heavy with dampness.

  "My name is Garret, what's yours?" he asked in a gentle voice.

  "Alexandra Maria Chamberlain," she said, now smiling.

  "Whoa, that's some big name for such a little thing." He chuckled and then gave
her mop of dark curls a gentle rustle with one of his hands.

  "You saved me. They were gonna kill me.”

  "I don't think they would actually kill you, Alexandra Maria Chamberlain. But I do believe they were gonna pester you a bit. Don't worry; they won't be bothering you again. And if they do, you just come tell me. I'm in your mama's eleven o'clock class." Garret gave her a wink, his blue eyes twinkling.

  Without hesitation, Alexandra threw herself at Garret and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on tightly. She hugged him. Startled by the gesture, it took Garret a moment to gently release himself from her grip, yet not before she declared, "I love you, Garret, you're my hero.”

  Holding her at arm’s length, Garret studied her face.

  "You, Alexandra Maria Chamberlain, are going to be a heartbreaker."

  When Mrs. Chamberlain returned to her room a few moments later, Garret could tell his teacher was surprised to see him, in spite of the fact she had told him to wait in the classroom until she returned from the office. The Chamberlain family was new to Coulson, and it was obvious to Garret this teacher didn’t know how things worked in his family’s town. Sonny, his older brother, was certainly never reprimanded by a teacher, and he was no angel.

  By the expression on Mrs. Chamberlain’s face, it was apparent one or more of her colleagues had since filled her in. Earlier that day, when she initially demanded Garret return to her class after school, she wore a far more confident expression. Unbeknownst to the teacher, her students’ chorus of “Uh-oh,” following her demand was not a warning to Garret that he was about to get in trouble—but to her.

  Garret wasn’t a total delinquent. He never started fights in class and no one dared provoke him. It wasn’t just his name but his size and reputation. Instead of overt belligerence toward his teachers, he treated them dismissively. Blatantly ignoring seating charts, if he wanted to sit next to the prettiest girl in class, he did, often sending the poor guy whose seat he had just commandeered scrambling to find somewhere else to sit. If he wanted to wander into class five minutes late, then his teacher would have to deal with it. Garret Coulson had his own schedule.

  “Mommy!’ Alexandra raced to her mother and leapt into her arms, giving her a welcoming hug. “Garret is my new friend. He saved my life!”

  “Did he now?” Beth eyed Garret curiously. She set Alexandra on her feet. “Alex dear, please go sit very quietly at mommy’s desk. I need to have a private talk with your new friend.”

  Alex nodded energetically then raced across the room to her mother’s desk. En route, she flashed Garret a smile. Beth faced her student.

  “Do you want to know what happened?” Garret noticed his teacher appeared more confident than she had moments earlier.

  “You mean with my daughter?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, I imagine Alex will tell me all about it on the way home. I’d rather talk about you.”

  “Me?”

  “That’s why I asked you to come here today.”

  “Yeah, well I came. But I’m gonna get out of here now.” Tucking his hands in the back pockets of his denims, he shifted restlessly.

  “No, I’d like you to sit down, please.” Beth motioned to a chair.

  Prepared to ignore the teacher’s demand and walk out of the classroom, Garret glanced at Alexandra, who watched him with keen interest. He couldn’t bring himself to treat his teacher with disrespect with her young daughter watching. For some reason, that felt wrong.

  Shrugging as if he didn’t care one way or another, Garret sat down. Beth smiled and took the chair next to him.

  “I’m worried about you, Garret.” Beth kept her voice low, making it difficult for Alexandra to hear the conversation.

  “Worried about me?” It wasn’t what Garret expected to hear. Instead, he assumed she would begin with, you must respect my rules—follow the class rules—or something along those lines.

  “Garret, your last test scores were impressive, considering you whipped through them in a matter of minutes and didn’t bother to check your answers.”

  “You think I cheated?” Garret asked angrily. He might find such tests total bullshit, but he was no cheater.

  “That thought never crossed my mind.”

  Beth Chamberlain’s talk turned into an impassionate plea, urging Garret to recognize his untapped talents. She insisted he was only hurting himself and that he was better than what he presented to the world, and she wanted to see him succeed not because his last name was Coulson—but because he was a unique, intelligent, and talented young man fully capable of succeeding on his own merit.

  He might have tuned her out, had something about her passion not sparked a distant memory. In that instant, she reminded him of his grandmother, Mary Ellen Coulson.

  Garret was not quite five years old when his grandmother died. While his memories of her were fleeting and faint, he could still recall quite vividly the day she had died, for he had been the one to find her.

  At first, he thought she was sleeping, curled up on the small sofa in the library. He tried waking her, but when she wouldn’t stir, he climbed up with her. He removed the pillow she was clutching and tried to take its place. There wasn’t much room on the compact piece of furniture, but the two managed to fit.

  Fortunately, his father found them before rigor mortis set in, which would have made it necessary to pry Garret from his dead grandmother’s arms. The young child didn’t understand immediately; his grandmother was never waking up. Weeks after her funeral he would still ask when she was coming home.

  Garret did not believe in dwelling in the past or obsessing over what might be lacking in his life. Because of this, he didn’t consider—or remember—it was his grandmother Mary Ellen who had petted and adored him, frequently telling him he was both special and bright. It was a conversation he never had with his own mother, who seemed at times to loath her middle son.

  Garret patiently allowed Beth Chamberlain to have her say, and when she was done, he told her he would consider her words.

  “So tell me about your new friend,” Beth asked her daughter after Garret was gone. Alexandra watched as her mother straightened the classroom so the two could go home.

  “Andy Smith and his stupid brother and that stinky Craig Michaels wanted to beat me up. But I ran faster than those stupid boys. And when I got here Garret told them never to bother me again or he’d make them get lost in the mountains.”

  Beth turned to face her daughter. “Oh really?” She raised a brow. “You know I don’t like you calling people stupid—or stinky for that matter. But what is this about some boys wanting to beat you up? Aren’t those boys in your brother’s class?”

  “Yeah.” Alexandra shrugged.

  This was the first Beth had heard about bullies from the elementary school next door picking on much younger children.

  “Those boys are two years older than you. Why in the world would they pick on a little girl?”

  “I’m not some baby,” Alexandra protested.

  “Why were they chasing you?”

  “Well,” Alex began, guiltily looking down at her feet. “Maybe ‘cause I kicked that dummy Andy Smith.”

  “Oh, Alex, why did you kick Andy?”

  “He said he was glad Tommy was sick today and hoped he would never come back.”

  “That’s not a very nice thing for him to have said, but you shouldn’t have kicked him. From now on, you need to ignore those older boys when they say mean things. He was just trying to upset you.”

  “Well, I kicked him good.”

  Chapter 2

  She was probably the hottest thing he had seen since coming to Clement Falls. By the way she was dressed he doubted she was a local. The woman had class. She reminded him of that broad whose husband was running for president, Kennedy. Of course, this dame was a redhead, but her hair was fixed the same way, and she had a similar look and body type.

  “Gina, any idea who that broad is, the redhead?” Anthony nodde
d toward the dirt parking lot, where the woman stood by a white Cadillac, speaking to several other women.

  Wrestling with her squirming toddler, Gina looked to see whom her brother was talking about. Gina tired easily these days. She had begged Anthony to stop a moment after visiting the small market so she could rest.

  “Yes I do. That’s Vera Coulson. But you stay away from her, you hear me. You don’t want to get in trouble.”

  “What’s so special about her?” Anthony took a drag off his cigarette, still eying the woman.

  “Her family are big shots. Her last name is Coulson. Coulson, Anthony. She is a very important woman.”

  “You mean like that town near here?”

  “Yes. She’s married anyway, so leave her alone.”

  Gina stood up, the child in her arms. “Come Anthony, I’m ready to go home now.”

  “You go. I want to finish my cigarette. Leave the groceries, I’ll bring them.”

  Gina glanced warily from her brother to Vera Coulson. Her little girl started to fuss; it was time for her dinner.

  “Okay Anthony, but please, don’t do anything.” Holding onto the handrail, Gina carried the toddler, as she awkwardly made her way down the wooden steps. It would be a short walk to the boarding house she owned with her husband.

  Anthony Marino leaned back in the Adirondack chair, enjoying the view. It wasn’t the quaint, rustic décor of the mountain market or the thick pine forest he found interesting, it was the woman. This might be just what he needed to ease his boredom while things cooled down back home.

  He had no intention of following his kid sister’s advice. No one told Anthony Marino what to do. The fact the woman was married didn’t discourage his interest; it simply upped the ante and made the game more challenging. The redhead laughed at something one of the other women said, and it looked as if they were preparing to get into their vehicles. Disappointed that she was leaving, his hope was renewed when she began walking toward the market as her friends got into their cars to drive away.