Unbroken (3 page)

Britney raised her gaze to his. 
“Good morning, Mr. McCoy,” she replied with staid professionalism.

Jake had to fight the urge to
groan aloud at the austere tone of her voice. 
Terrific! 
The Ice Queen was still displaying about as much personality as a rock, he thought to himself.  Making his way forward, he eyed the long leather couch positioned directly across from where Miss Taylor sat with an inaudible feeling of relief.

“Can we get you anything
, Mr. McCoy?” Allison asked, as she and Heidi followed doggedly in his footsteps.

“Something to drink?  A
snack perhaps?” Heidi offered.

Dropping onto the sofa, he looked up at
their eager to please faces.  “Actually ladies, it was a late night and I’m dead tired.  I think I’m just going to crash here on the couch for awhile.”  Their disappointed expressions were nearly identical.  “I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

“Of course
, Mr. McCoy.  I’ll let the captain know that we’re ready to depart then,” Heidi replied, moving away with obvious reluctance.

“If you wi
ll just buckle your seat belt for take off, I’ll let you know when it’s safe for you to lie down,” Allison told him, before she too moved away.

“Thanks, I
’d appreciate it.”  Settling back against the expensive leather, he tugged the lap belt across his midsection. When it was securely buckled he lifted his gaze to the woman seated across from him, repressing a weary sigh.  She looked exactly the same as she had the day before; the only difference was the color of her plain, shapeless suit, this one a steely gray. 

“Is there anything you woul
d like to go over, Mr. McCoy, before you… uh… crash?”  Britney asked, her fingers hovering over the keyboard of her laptop.

“
Nothing that can’t wait,” he answered.  “And since we’re going to be housemates for the next couple of months, would you mind if we dropped the formality, Miss Taylor?” he asked, quirking his brow.  “You can call me Jake.”

“Oh…sure…of course
.  Please, call me Britney,” she stammered awkwardly, dropping her gaze back to the laptop.  Shutting it down, she then slipped the computer back into her bag.

When she glanced up a minute later, Jake
had already dropped his head to rest against the back of the couch, his eyes closed.  She studied him for a moment, unable to help herself.  It was the first time she had looked at him,
really
looked at him, unlike the brief glances she’d sent his way during their previous meetings.  There was no denying it; Jake McCoy was as gorgeous as sin.  His tousled, light brown hair was slightly longer than Ian’s she noted, but cut in a similar, deliberately mussed style that just begged a woman to run her fingers through it, while a few wayward strands fell against his forehead, giving him a slightly rakish look.  Though closed at present, she knew that his eyes were a deep emerald green and framed by the long, dark lashes that now rested softly against the tops of his cheeks.  His chin was strong and well-defined, his cheekbones perfectly balanced and his lips were full and beautifully shaped.  His nose, though reportedly broken on more than one occasion, was remarkably straight considering, and seemed perfectly proportioned to his face.  Perversely, she searched for any sign of a flaw upon his handsome features, an unappealing scar, a blemish, an unsightly mole, but she couldn’t find a single thing that detracted from the sheer beauty of his face. 
Unbelievable!
 

Distracted
a moment later by the sudden ignition and gentle roar of the plane’s twin engines, Britney tore her gaze from Jake’s ridiculously perfect features and directed it out the window.  Watching as they slowly made their way to the runway, she felt an uncomfortable tightening in her chest.  Turning from the window, she leaned her head against the high seatback and closed her eyes. 
Breathe
, she told herself
, just breathe
. 

Keeping her eyes
firmly closed, she tried to focus on the simple act of forcing air into and out of her lungs as the plane taxied to the runway. Nonetheless, her fingers clutched spasmodically against the armrests just a few moments later as the engines revved and the plane began to shoot forward.  Then, as the sleek jet lifted into the air, she struggled to fight back the wave of terror that flooded through her as her last bit of safety and security abruptly slipped away.  

“Nervous fly
er?”

The sound of his voice s
tartled her and she jerked as if she’d received an unexpected shock of electricity.  Her eyes flew open and she turned her head in Jake’s direction.  His own eyes were open and he was staring at her questioningly.  “Sorry, what?” she asked, flustered.

“I asked if you were a nervou
s flyer,” he repeated, arching his left brow as his gaze moved pointedly to where her fingers were still digging into the armrests of her seat.

“Oh…um…
yes, just a little bit,” she lied, as she forced her fingers to relax their hold on the supple leather.  “It’s nothing really.”  She gave him a brittle, half smile and then turned her head back to the window.

Could have fooled me
, Jake thought to himself.  The Ice Queen looked like she was scared to death.  He watched her curiously for a minute as she gazed out the window, but after a while he allowed his eyes to drift shut once again.  A few minutes later, Allison tapped him on the shoulder to let him know that it was safe to lie down.  She handed him a pillow and a blanket, asking him if there was anything else he needed, before quietly moving away.  He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Much to Allison and Heidi’s noticeable chagrin, and Britney’s relief, Jake slept through the entire flight to Sun Valley.  Though less obvious than the other two women, her gaze had drifted in his direction more than once during the flight, her eyes lingering upon his handsome face and his large athletic body stretched out along the couch.  She waited for him to start snoring, secretly hoped for it even, but of course he didn’t, breathing silently in and out in a tranquil rhythm instead.  Perfect even in slumber.  Why wasn’t she surprised?

They were about fifteen minutes from the airport when Allison
finally woke Jake from his nap, lightly touching his shoulder as she leaned over him, speaking to him in a low voice.

Looking out the window
as they began their descent, Britney scanned the scenery below.  Sun Valley was one of the many domestic playgrounds of the rich and famous and the numerous, elaborate vacation homes sprinkled across the landscape attested to that fact.  Jake’s property was likely amongst the collection of grandiose estates they passed over, dwellings that only the super wealthy could get away with referring to as
cabins
.  The notion brought her a small measure of relief as the image of another cabin, this one small and crudely constructed, skirted darkly along the outer edges of her thoughts.

Once they’d touched down at the Sun Valley airport, retrieved their bags
from the plane’s storage compartment and picked up a set of car keys at the rental counter, Britney and Jake made their way toward a white Ford Explorer parked in the sparsely stocked rental lot located on the south side of the small airport.  Jake had a vehicle of his own at the house and the Explorer was to be for her personal use.  The Blades were covering all of her expenses and she’d reserved the vehicle with her corporate credit card the day before.  As Jake loaded their bags into the back, Britney peeked through the glass to make sure her one requirement had been met.  It had.  The navigation system was clearly evident, mounted in the center of the front dash.  She’d never been great with maps and the thought of getting lost on some random country road in Idaho was terrifying. 

“I’ll drive,” Jake said, shutting th
e hatch with one hand and holding his other hand out for the keys.  “It will give you a chance to enjoy the scenery.”

“Oh sure, that would be great,” B
ritney replied politely, handing him the keys and then moving to the passenger side of the SUV. 

She could hear the low vibration of Jake’s cell phone as he slid into the driver’s seat, but he ignored it, reaching instead to turn on the radio.  He scanned the stations for a
minute and then finally settled on a country western channel, glancing at her somewhat apologetically. 

“Sorry, but without a satellite tuner there isn’t a whole lot to cho
ose from around here.”

Britney
immediately recognized the familiar, melodious voice of George Straight as he sang Amarillo by Morning.  It had always been one of her mom’s favorite songs.  “It’s fine,” she replied.  “I like country music.”  She liked most kinds of music actually.

“Yeah, me too,”
Jake said, though he was a little surprised that she did.  He’d figured her more for the classical music type, or perhaps the easy listening stuff they played in elevators and doctor’s office waiting rooms.

When Jake pulled out of the parking lot a few moments later, Britney turned her head toward the window.  They rode in silence for several minutes as she studied the passing scenery, taking in her unfamiliar surroundings.  She was relieved to see that the simple, yet tasteful buildings that lined the streets were much like those of the small town atmosphere of Twin Springs, the sleepy little California town where she’d grown up.  They passed numerous ski and outdoor themed shops, a couple of gas stations, a bank, a few restaurants and the occasional fast food joint.  She caught glimpses of several large, beautiful homes tucked here and there within the foothills and nodded as Jake pointed out the ski slopes that were visible from the road.  Though it was summer, the wide paths cutting through the trees were easy to discern, as were the now stationary chair lifts, swaying gently in the breeze.

It brought to mind
the last time she’d gone skiing.  She and several of her friends had gone to Lake Tahoe during winter break, their senior year of college.  Was it only four years ago, she mused?  It seemed like a lifetime.

“How far is it to your cabin?” she asked absently.

“About fifty miles, give or take.”

She turned t
oward him, her eyes wide.  “But I…I thought you lived in Sun Valley,” she stammered.

Jake glanced at Britney from the corner of his eye, hearing the
shocked stutter in her voice.  Oh hell!  She looked like she was going to be sick all of the sudden.  What is with her, he wondered?  “No, I live in Stanley.  Well, about ten miles outside of Stanley, that is.”  When she didn’t respond he turned his head toward her, noting her sudden pallor.  “Are you alright?”

Keep it together, keep it together
, she told herself, fighting against her escalating panic.  Jake was already looking at her like someone who’d just realized that they’d made the incredibly stupid mistake of picking up a deranged hitchhiker.  Oh God, if she completely lost it, he’d probably dump her out on the side of the road or something.  “I’m fine, it’s nothing,” she managed, despite the crushing tightness in her chest.  Quickly she turned away, once again directing her gaze to the passing countryside. 
Breathe, just breathe.

They spent the next forty minutes in uncomfortable silence, with the exception of the radio and the occasional vibrating of Jake’s cell phone, which he continued to ignore.

“Those are the Sawtooth Mountains,” Jake said, sudd
enly breaking the silent tension within the vehicle and causing Britney to start. 

She’d been turned toward
the window, but lost in thought she hadn’t really noticed the large mountain range that had just come into view.  “Oh, wow.”  She focused her gaze on the jagged, towering peaks ahead, their tops still covered in snow despite the warm weather.  “They’re incredible,” she breathed, awed by the beauty of the craggy mountains, a breathtaking backdrop to the green grass and rolling hills that fronted them. 

“Stanley’s just ahead,”
she heard him say, as her eyes remained locked upon the majestic beauty of the mountain range. 

“The cabin is
about another ten miles down the road,” Jake added.

A couple
of minutes later they passed a green highway sign that read Stanley, Idaho, population one-hundred and twelve.  Britney blinked in surprise, doing a double take as the sign flashed by.  “One-hundred and twelve, seriously?” she asked, turning toward Jake, shock evident in her expression.

“One-hundred and twelve p
ermanent residents,” he told her.  “But Stanley draws a pretty big tourist crowd, especially in the summer.  There’s lots of fishing, hiking, river rafting, camping and that sort of thing around here.”

Sh
e could understand that.  The natural beauty surrounding her was impressive.  As they drove into town, she scanned both sides of the street.  There were several motels and lodges, nothing fancy, a couple of gas stations, a country cafe, a larger bar and restaurant combo, and a small grocery store.  They passed several cars and trucks, a handful of travel trailers, and a large group of motorcycles ridden by gray-haired men who thankfully looked more like retired bank managers than Hell’s Angels.  Within thirty seconds, they had travelled the length of Stanley’s bustling business district and were heading out of town.  Britney shook her head in wonder.  Compared to Stanley, Idaho, Twin Springs was an urban metropolis.  So much for needing the navigation system, she mused. 

A few miles outside of Stanley, Jake turned off onto a
narrow gravel road and headed east.  The winding country road ran alongside a wide, slow-moving creek and just around the third bend Britney noticed an old red pickup truck parked off to the side.  She scanned the area and spotted a pair of middle-aged men garbed in rubber waders, standing knee deep in the shallow water, fly-fishing.  She couldn’t help but smile, for the scene was reminiscent of days gone by and oddly reassuring. 

The men looked up and waved
as they passed by and Jake returned the friendly greeting, waving as the Explorer’s tires left a small cloud of dust in their wake and set the cattails that lined the creek bank swaying in a gentle motion. 

They drove for another five minutes before coming to a fork in the road.  Jake took the
unmarked road on the left and then continued on for a few more minutes.  She noticed that the road branched off in several locations and realized that the GPS might come in handy after all, though she wasn’t sure these backwoods roads would be included in the system’s data bank.  She did her best to pay careful attention to the route they followed, just in case.

Another coup
le of miles and Jake turned onto yet another gravel road, this one fronted by a metal cattle guard and flanked on either side by tall wooden posts that supported a wrought iron sign that read, Whispering Pines.  A small metal sign had been nailed to one of the posts, indicating that it was a private drive.  Britney felt her stomach muscles tense, but somehow managed to keep her expression calm. 

About a
mile down the road, she noticed a small dust cloud, similar to the one the Explorer was leaving behind.  As they drew closer, she could see that it was caused by someone riding a four-wheeler farther up the road.  Jake slowed as they came up behind the smaller vehicle and Britney could now see that an older gentleman with a thick shock of salt and pepper hair was driving it.  Behind him, in a large red plastic crate strapped securely to the vehicle’s frame, sat a small black and white dog wagging his tail and barking excitedly.  The gray-haired man brought the four-wheeler to a stop as they approached, turning with a smile as Jake pulled up beside him and rolled down his window. 

“Where’s the fire
, old timer?” Jake teased good-naturedly, resting his arm along the window frame.

“
About time you showed up, boy,” the man grinned in return.  “Rosie’s been pestering me all morning,” he said shaking his head.  “As if calling me every twenty minutes was gonna get you here any faster.”

“I’ll call her when I get to the ho
use,” Jake promised, with an amused chuckle.

“Y
ou can call her from my place.  We’ll have us a piece of banana crème pie and you can introduce me to your lady friend,” he said, glancing in Britney’s direction with a warm smile.  Before Jake could respond, he hit the gas on the four-wheeler and took off down the road.

“Do you mind if we stop?”  Jake asked, turning to Britney.

“No, of course not.”  She wondered if the man was a friend or relative, but didn’t ask.  She figured she’d soon find out.

“I could drop you at my place and come back, but I’d probably
catch hell for it,” he told her with a wry smile.

“No, it’s fine
, really.  I like banana crème pie,” she assured him.

“Thanks.  W
e won’t stay long.”

They followed a short
distance behind the four-wheeler, rounded a slight bend in the road a few moments later and then a welcoming, two-story white farmhouse with a wide wraparound front porch set snuggly amongst a group of towering pine trees came into view.  The structure was obviously old, but incredibly charming and very well-maintained.  In addition, it came complete with a large red barn with white trim and an old-fashioned wooden windmill painted red and white to match the barn.  It was lovely.

As Jake parked in front of the house, the older man stopped the ATV and climbed off, the little dog jumping down from its perch at the same time.   

“Hey, Rowdy,” Jake called, stepping from the Explorer.  He bent down to tousle the dog’s fur and was rewarded with another round of excited barking and tail-wagging. 

“Settle down
, Rowdy,” the gray-haired man chided as he ambled toward them.

“Hey
, Granddad, how are you?” Jake asked, throwing his arm around his shoulder in an affectionate greeting.

“Oh
, I can’t complain,” he replied with a grin.  “It’s sure good to see you, Jake.”

Stepping back, Jake noticed Britney as she stepped around the front of the SUV.  “Grand
dad, let me introduce you to Miss Taylor,” he said.  “Britney, this is my grandfather, Benjamin McCoy.  Ben, this is Miss Britney Taylor.  She’s going to be helping me out this summer.”

“It’s
nice to meet you, Mr. McCoy,” Britney replied warmly, extending her hand.

“You too young
lady, and call me Ben,” he said, shaking her hand with a firm grip.

Britney liked him at once.
Dressed in faded blue jeans, a tan short-sleeved button down shirt and a well-worn pair of cowboy boots, he reminded her of her own grandfather, a wonderful man with a jovial laugh, an easy-going nature and a heart of pure gold.  Sadly, he’d passed away when she was fourteen, two years before her grandmother.  “Thank you, Ben, and please call me Britney.”

Jake cocked an eyebrow at Britney’s warm tone and friendly greeting.  Was she actually smiling? 
He could hardly believe it.

“So
, Britney, are you partial to homemade banana crème pie?” Ben asked.

“
As a matter of fact, I am,” she assured him with an enthusiastic nod.

“Well come on in then,” he said
, smiling widely as he motioned them toward the house.

As they started up the steps, Britney’s eyes were drawn to the large wooden swing that hung from the rafters on the left side of the wide front porch. 
Two pillows with a bright yellow sunflower print rested in each corner and two large potted plants with pale green leaves and vivid red flowers flanked the sides.  It looked incredibly inviting.

Pulling open the old-fashioned screen door, Ben ushered them into the house.

Stepping into the small foyer, Britney was immediately delighted by her surroundings.  A narrow staircase with a beautifully carved wooden banister led to the upper floor, a large dining room opened to the right, and a warm, inviting living room was set to the left of the foyer. 

Let’s go on back to the kitchen,” Ben said
, moving into the living room and then heading toward the rear of the house.