When it’s my turn, I start to unload everything on the belt so that the cashier can ring me out. By the time I’m done, my bill is over $600. After getting out of the store and loading my vehicle, the only space empty is my seat. Putting the carts away, I hop into the driver’s seat and pull out. Looking at the gas gauge, I realize I better find a gas station and fill her up before heading up the mountain. It would be stupid to go up with only a half a tank. Pulling into the gas station, it’s even busier than Walmart.
I get out and start to pump the gas. In Ohio, you would have had to pay first, but not here in the small town. After I fill it up, I grab my purse and head inside the gas station; everyone is lounging around talking, drinking coffee before they go to work. I nod and smile. Everyone in this small town is so friendly as opposed to other places I have been. Grabbing a donut and a Pepsi, I walk over to wait in line at the counter.
“How can I help you?” the clerk asks, smiling. He’s a cute kid in his early twenties.
“I have gas on eight and a pop and donut,” I tell him. He starts laughing which makes me smile.
“What’s so funny?” I ask him.
“You mean soda, right?” he asks, trying not to laugh again.
“I mean pop,” I say, laughing at the look on his face.
“Lee, leave her be! You ass,” a gruff man tells him. I finally know what’s so damn funny.
“Ah, I get it, yes I’m from up north, and we call it pop! Maybe you need to go back to school and learn English,” I say laughing and wink at him. His cheeks turn pink, and he just smiles at me. I hear laughter behind me, and I know the other people overheard. Getting my card back, I turn and almost bump into the big harsh guy.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I better watch where I’m walking,” I say to him.
“You’re the one that bought the place up on the mountain, aren’t ya?”
Got to love small towns—news spreads fast.
“Yes, I am. I’m heading up there now.” I just want to get going, but this guy has other plans for me.
“I’m heading up that way too with some hay that the previous owners ordered. Getting some horses, are ya?”
“Apparently, I am. I’m Spring, by the way.” He sticks his hand out for me to shake. Grabbing hold, I shake his hand.
“I’m old Tom, ma’am. Nice to meet ya,” he says with a genuine smile on his face.
“Nice to meet you as well, Tom.” Looking over my shoulder, I see a few guys interested in our conversation. “Well, I better get going. See you later then?”
“Yes, ma’am.” With that, I head out the door to my SUV. Getting in, I head out of the gas station for the long drive to my new house and an uncertain future.
Chapter 4
Going over the bridge, I head up the long curvy road up the mountain. It’s still dark on this side since the mountain blocks the sun this early in the morning. The trees are enormous and beautiful—the leaves are starting to fall off. Soon, it will begin snowing for real, so I have a few weeks to get stuff outside done. After an hour of driving, I pull into the driveway. It’s at least a mile long to get to the house. Finally pulling up to the garages, I put the SVU’s gear into park and turn it off. Looking out my window, I look at the looming house in front of me. It’s huge. I sure didn’t need this big of a house, but it feels like home. It pulls at me.
Getting out, I open the back hatch and grab a few bags. Walking to the French doors, I unlock them and step in. Heading into the kitchen, I put the bags on the counter. I find a light switch and turn them on bathing the area with warm glow.
I’ve got a lot to get in here and phone calls to make to get the rest of my clothes here. Back at the SUV, I grab a few more bags. Hearing footsteps behind me, I whirl around almost dropping them, but hands shoot out and steady my load.
The guy who saved me has short brown hair, blue eyes, and a chiseled face. He’s wearing a tight t-shirt that clings to his hard-looking body perfectly. His jeans are hung low on his waist but fit him just perfect. He clears his throat; my eyes fly to his face. He’s smiling at me. Blushing, I see that he’s got a scar that runs from the corner of his eye down to his neck. It must continue further, but his shirt covers it.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I’m the groundskeeper, Mick. And you must be Spring?” he says.
“Yes, I am. Sorry, you just startled me, even though I received information that you would be here.”
“Let me help you get your stuff inside. We have a bad thunderstorm coming in later.”
“Great, thank you.” I walk toward the house and put more bags on the counter. Mick comes in with a lot more than I did.
“Why don’t you start to put your things away? I’ll bring the rest in.”
“Mick, I’m sure you have other things to do, and I don’t want to keep you from it.” Smiling, I start to unload the first bag.
“It’s no problem at all.”
A few hours later, I’ve finally gotten everything put away in the kitchen, but I still have things to put away around the rest of the house. Walking into the great room, I see that he’s piled everything there. Looking out the window, I see him working on something on the pool. He turns and waves. Smiling, I wave back. Having someone around all the time will take getting used to. Running my hands through my hair, I look at the boxes. Well, they are not going to get themselves upstairs. Walking over, I grab a few bags and pick up the first box.
I didn’t know which room I wanted when I started heading up the stairs, but the one I saw yesterday will do, so I head in there. I love this one.
Setting the stuff in the center of the room, I make my way down for another load. Forty minutes of going up and down the stairs, I finally have everything up here. I have hours of stuff to do up here. Hearing someone pull in the driveway, I walk over to the balcony doors. Pulling them open, seeing it’s a truck full of hay. It must be Old Tom. Walking back inside, I make my way down the stairs to the great room. It still takes my breath away.
When I get outside, Old Tom is talking to Mick. Tom gets back into his truck and backs it up to the barn.
“Morning, Tom. Where do you want me?” I ask him.
“Oh, ah, we can get this, Spring. I can’t possibly ask for you to help,” Mick murmurs.
“Oh, let’s not go there, I use to stack hay all the time. You know what, I’ll go up in the loft and wait for the hay to come up, and I’ll stack them.” Shaking my head, I make my way into the barn. God, I love the smell in here. Passing the stalls, I notice two are open. Making my way to the ladder, I climb up into the loft. I hear the conveyer turn on. Jogging to it, I watch as Mick starts tossing hay on it one right after the other. He looks up to discern if I can even pick up the bales. A typical guy, I see. Grabbing the first one, I lift it up off the belt and toss it back to the back of the loft. Grabbing the next, I do the same thing over and over. These are at least sixty pounds, and I’m flinging them like their nothing.
“I’m sorry, Spring, I didn’t think you had it in you to work this fast,” Mick says with a smirk on his face when the loft is full, and I’ve moved down to help him below.
“Told you I used to do this all the time.” Mick is staring at my soaked tank top since I shed the hoodie earlier. I Clear my throat to get his attention, and his eyes fly up to my face.
“Ready to start round two?” I ask him.
“Ah, round two?” he asks. Looking at him, I can’t help but start laughing.
“Yes, round two of hay, Mick.”
“You got it,” he says, hitting the stairs two at a time.
###
Finally, after three hours, we are done with the hay. We ended up putting twenty bales in the last stall because we didn’t have any more room up in the loft. There’s still thirty bags of grain to put away. After watching Mick talk to Tom for a few minutes, I walk over and pull a bag over to the grain room. Opening the door, the air that comes out smells sweet. I see where to stack the bags, so I drag it over there and pus
h and shove to get it to lie flat. Going back, I grab the next and do the same thing. Mick comes in with two slung over his shoulders tossing them on the pile. OK, I admit these are heavy. It doesn’t take long, with him helping, the work’s completed in no time. Looking at my watch, it's 12:30 in the afternoon. Mick hands me my hoodie, and I put it back on. The sky is turning black—a storm is rolling in. So much for a late-night swim tonight.
Shivering, I watch Mick walk out the back of the barn and disappear. Walking over to the other side of the barn, I watch as he leads two horses inside. One is giving him a hard time rearing and kicking out at him.
Thunder cracks and lightning lights up the sky. The horse breaks away, running straight at me. I hear Mick yell something, but I can’t make out what he said. As the horse runs straight at me, I throw my arms wide to stop him. He skids to a halt and rears in front of me.
“Oh, come on now, big boy, settle down,” I murmur. He rears a few times more. I don’t back up. He lunges a few times at me. Putting my arms out in front of me, I reach for him.
“Stop it. Come to me,” I whisper.” He gradually settles down and moves slowly toward me. He walks right into my hands. Rubbing him, he comes to a stop, shaking.
“Hey, big boy, easy there,” I purr. Running my hands along his mane, I whisper, “Show me.”
Tied to a post. There’s a guy with a long whip. He pulls his arm back and lets the whip fly. It goes across him over and over cutting him open, but that doesn’t stop the guy from hitting him. He falls to the ground. Too weak from being beat.
The illusion clears as I shake my head. Tears run down my face. Running my hands around his neck, I lean into him. He nickers softly at me and rests his head around me. Hearing footsteps behind me, I feel him tense up.
“Who the hell beat this horse?” I ask angrily. Mick stops in his tracks and looks at me.
“How did you know?” he asks.
“It doesn’t matter how I know, what matters is that I do.” The horse snorts and stomps his foot behind me.
“Spring, you better let me take him before he goes crazy again. I promise you I have never treated him poorly,” he says, looking at me than the horse.
“I’ve got him and will take care of him for now on. It seems he doesn’t trust men. What’s his name?” I ask.
I see something flash across Mick’s face, but he hides it quickly. “His name is Storm.”
Grabbing the lead, I start forward. Storm follows me but is skittish around Mick.
“Oh, come on now, big boy, he’s not going to hurt you,” I murmur. We get in front of his stall, and I reach up to take his halter off. Turning around, I look at Mick.
“Mick, has this ever been off?” I dangle the halter in front of me. Storm starts rubbing his face along my back, pushing me forward with each time. Grabbing the bars on the stall, I hold on so that he can itch his face. Pushing his shoulder, he walks into his stall and goes right for the water.
“No, I couldn’t get close enough to get it off. Spring, I’m sorry,” he says, looking at the ground. I grab a few flakes of hay and toss them in. Walking over to the other horse; he sticks his head outside of the stall. Rubbing his nose, I toss a few into him too.
“Don’t be sorry; you didn’t hurt him. Someone else did.”
We walk out of the barn and toward the house. The wind has really picked up. “Why don’t you go take a shower and come in for lunch?” I ask, smiling at him. “I’m going to run and shower too, you know where the kitchen is, so I can make us a couple of sandwiches, there are other things in there as well.”
“OK, see you in a little bit,” he says, walking away. Shaking my head, I head into the house and up the stairs into my new bedroom.
Grabbing my robe from a box, I grab my cell phone and see I missed a call. Taking it with me to the bathroom, I turn the water on in the shower and let it warm up. Hitting the voicemail, I listen to the message. The rest of my things will be here in two days. Well, at least I have clothing to wear in the meantime. Taking off my dirty clothes, I head into the shower. It’s like being under a waterfall.
Showered now, I dress and brush my hair out. The carpet is so soft on my bare feet, as I make my way down the steps. Hearing noises in the kitchen, I realize Mick must have beat me. Smiling, I run my fingers down the banister. The woodwork is exquisite. His back is to me as he makes sandwiches, I enter the kitchen.
“Looks good, and, man, am I starving,” I say.
Mick jumps a little, and I laugh. Turning, he brings two plates to the counter and sets them down. Pulling out a tall chair, I sit at the island. There’s iced tea in a glass already. Grabbing mine, I take a drink.
“Hope you like what I made,” he murmurs.
“I’m sure it will be fine,” I say, taking a bite. It’s impressive, or I’m just really starved.
We make small talk while we eat. Mick’s a Marine and has been back just a little over a year. I tell him about myself and how I came to find this house. After we finish, I grab the plates and put them into the sink with the water running. Mick leaves and goes into the great room. I finish up with the dishes and put them away. Hearing the doorbell, I turn off the kitchen lights and head in the great room. Seeing Mick at the door, I go over and sit by the fireplace. He must have started one while I was cleaning up the kitchen. Looking into the fire, I watch as the flames lick at the wood.
“Spring, you got a package,” Mick says, walking over to me with a wooden box in his arms. He sets it down, and I walk over then sit down on the ground and open the lid. It’s wine—six bottles of it. Pulling out the card, I open it up and read it.
Welcome to your new home. Enjoy and drink while thinking of me,
With all my love Maddox.
Setting down the card, I pull out a bottle of wine. Turning it over in my hands, it’s the same wine I was drinking the night before. Whistling low, I look over at Mick.
“That’s like $1,500 a bottle. Who gave that to you?”
“Oh, a guy I met at the bar last night, when I went out to dinner with Ruth,” I say. Standing up, I grab the box and walk into the kitchen. Going to the wine cooler, I put the bottles in the racks.
Back in the great room, Mick says, “I’ll be leaving now if you don’t need anything else. Oh, before I go, I could get a fire started in your bedroom if you like. It gets chilly this time of year at night.”
“You know what, that would be great. Thank you.” I hear him go up the stairs, so I sit back down by the fire with a magazine that I begin to flip through the pages. It’s not even ten minutes, and he comes back down.
“Make sure to add some wood to them, so they don’t go out. I will bring more wood in the morning. Good night, Spring.” He heads out the double doors. Watching him, he walks around the pool and heads to a path that leads into the woods. I know there’s a little cottage back there that he stays in.
It’s so quiet now that I’m alone. The only thing that I hear is the fire hissing and crackling. Throwing some pillows on the floor, I make myself comfortable and listen to it storm outside.
###
Jerking awake from the thunder cracking, I rub my eyes. Stretching, I look around the room, then I put the pillows back and turn the lamps on next to the couch. It gives a soft glow in the room along with the fire that needs more wood. It doesn’t take long for the flames to catch on the logs I’ve put in.
After refreshing my tea in the kitchen, I head up the stairs. It’s dark up here, but I make my way to my room. Turning on the lights, it’s nice and cozy in here with the fire going. I add some more logs, and the flames flicker with life. Making my way to the boxes, I start grabbing the clothes out of them and take them to the walk-in closet.
It’s humungous with shelves all along the walls. There’s a shoe rack that spins around with little cubbies to put shoes as well. Hanging the clothes that I have, I go and drag the boxes inside, putting my shoes where they go and purses too. I know I will still have some room after my stuff gets here in a f
ew days. All the clothes that I have are all new. Grabbing the bags, I start to hang all that stuff as well leaving the tags on them. There’re no dressers in the bedroom, but they are in here.
When I’m finished putting everything I have away, I decide to take a hot bath then make dinner. Before I do that, I grab a coat hanging in the laundry room. I have to feed the horses. I know Mick would but since Storm is the way he is I’ll do it. Slipping into my old boots, I head out in the storm. It’s coming down in buckets. Running to the barn, I flip the lights on. I get a nicker in greeting.
I throw hay to the other horse and make my way to Storm.
“Hey there, buddy,” I say. Tossing some hay in, I go to the grain room and fill a bucket with three scoops. Walking back, I open the first stall and scoop some into the first bin. She snickers and pushes me aside to get to it. Laughing, I close her door behind me and open Storms. After putting a scoop in, he does the same thing. Setting the bucket down outside the stall, I walk over and pet him as he’s eating. Going to the tack room, I grab a brush. Storm’s still eating by the time I come back. Slowly, I start brushing him. At first, he’s tense but relaxes after a while. Grabbing a comb, I start on his mane and tail—they are a knotted mess. I can see why because no one could get around him. That’s going to change. I think in the morning, I’m going to ride him. Not with a saddle, at least not yet.
Storm’s ears perk up. Taking a step back, I watch him. He circles me and puts his body in front of the stall door, watching the aisle. I can’t look at him because he’s too tall, so I go to his neck and peer under it. Mick walks to the stall door, and Storm gets antsy.
“Hey there, boy, it’s OK,” I murmur. Mick looks over at me seeing me for the first time.
“Hey, didn’t see you in there.”
“Yeah, Storm here decided to go between me and the door when he heard you come in,” I say, laughing.
Spring's Destiny Page 3
