Stormy Passion (29 page)

Chapter One

February 8, Hollow Ridge, N. C.

Brenna Fox wiped the frosty window pane with
a dishtowel and peered out at the fat snowflakes falling rapidly,
almost as if they were dancing to their own tune while the radio
behind her announced, “Cuddle up and snuggle under. ‘Cause we’re
expecting snow . . . snow ... and more snow, folks!”

Brenna smiled as she moved to the coffee
machine and poured herself a cup of coffee. She couldn’t be more
pleased with the forecast for fresh snow. It was something that
every ski resort prayed for.

Where most people thought of the icy stuff as
a real bother, she saw it as beautiful and clean. She only had two
rooms vacant at her Sleepy Hollow Inn, but with the forecast of new
powder, they'd be booked by tomorrow. And she needed the money
since her summer business had been so slow.

Taking a seat on the stool, Brenna spread the
newspaper out on the bar in front of her as her cook, Geraldine
Spencer, washed dishes.

“
Whatcha plannin' for
supper tonight?” Geraldine asked as she wiped her hands on a
dishtowel.

Brenna smiled at her beloved cook.
Geraldine's crisp white apron displayed stains from the blueberry
pancakes she'd made this morning, and her gray-streaked hair was
pulled into its usual bun. “How does a standing rib roast and
boiled potatoes sound for a Friday night? And maybe turkey and
stuffing for another choice.”

“
Easy for the cook.”
Geraldine laughed.

“
I thought you might like
that idea.” Brenna took a swallow of hot coffee, thinking of the
first time that she had laid eyes on Geraldine Spencer. Brenna had
tried to conduct her interviews professionally, and things had gone
well until she'd met Geraldine. Brenna still wasn't sure who had
interviewed whom that day ....

Geraldine had marched up to the table where
Brenna sat. At first, Geraldine hadn't said a word; she just
stared. In spite of that, Brenna had sensed there was something she
liked about the woman. Maybe it was her motherly appearance that
drew Brenna, or her understanding, soft brown eyes, or the fact the
woman was big enough to take on two men.

Geraldine had cleared her throat and quickly
told Brenna that she had nine children, been through two husbands,
and there wasn't anybody going to tell her what to do.

Evidently, she'd seen Brenna's startled
expression because Geraldine broke out in a hearty laugh and said,
“Hell honey, you're a greenhorn in these parts. The way I see it,
ya going to be needin' lots of advice, and being as I was born and
raised on this mountain, I can steer ya in the right direction.
Besides, a hotel needs a cook and, honey, one thing I can do is
cook.” She slapped her hand on the table, causing Brenna to jump
and ask, “When do I start?”

The only thing Brenna had managed to get out
of her mouth that day was, “Tomorrow.”

That had been three years ago, and now
Geraldine was family.

Geraldine shook Brenna's arm. “Where is ya
head at this mornin'?”

“
Huh?” Brenna blinked
several times before she realized she had been staring at Geraldine
with and odd smile. “I'm sorry, I was thinking back to the first
time I met you.”

“
Wasting time. That’s what
you’re doing. Why would you be thinkin' of such things
today?”

Brenna shrugged. “I don't know.” She slid off
the stool to freshen her coffee, feeling a little melancholy by old
thoughts.

“
Well, I do.” Geraldine
chuckled as she broke out in a wide grin. “Today is our
anniversary.”

Brenna turned and looked at her. “It is,
isn't it? Can you believe it's been three years?” She put a
spoonful of sugar in her cup and stirred the dark liquid. Maybe
that's the reason for the strangeness she felt today. “There have
been times when I thought we would never survive.”

“
How can ya have such
little faith? When I do your cookin'.”

Brenna smiled at the woman she loved so much.
“That is a big plus.” Her friend had lifted her up many times when
she had been down, especially the first year, when Brenna had
desperately needed to escape her tragic past. She had fled from her
hometown having been left little choice and ended up in Hollow
Ridge. Thankfully time healed most wounds or at least made them
bearable.

“
Why don't you go on home,
and I'll pick up the groceries this afternoon,” Brenna suggested.
“Since it's our anniversary, let's give everyone a free glass of
wine.”

“
Ain't a bad idea. But ya
go gettin' fancy, and ya won't be needin' me 'round
here.”

Brenna laid a hand on Geraldine's arm. “That
will never happen. Believe me, you have a job for life.”

Alone, Brenna shook off her gloom and started
reading the River Run Gazette from back home. Funny how she still
thought of the larger town as home after what had happened.

Every year she swore she was going to stop
getting the newspaper, Hollow Ridge was her home now, but she
always found a reason to put off canceling her subscription.

She scanned the Society Section first for the
marriage announcements, convincing herself she was keeping up with
old friends, but knowing
he
was the reason ...
he
was
always the reason. At first she'd hoped Taylor would try to find
her, but after the second year, Brenna had given up hope. Still,
she just had to know if Taylor had found someone else.

Oh, she knew she was being stupid. The man
wouldn't be waiting for her after three years. He probably hated
the ground she walked on, and she really couldn’t blame him. So
many unspoken questions stood between them.

She wanted to forget about Taylor completely.
God knows she’d tried, but somehow she couldn't.

The pain never got any easier.

Hollow Ridge, North Carolina wasn't
overflowing with men, but there were a few between twenty-five and
eighty. She had dated other men; but none of them made her feel
like she'd felt when Taylor had held her. They had had something
very special. Now Brenna wondered if she'd ever feel that way
again.

Did people experience one great love in their
life, then never again?

Running her finger down the page, she
breathed a sigh of relief. Good. No mention of Taylor's marriage.
Turning the page, she stopped upon seeing in big, bold print ...
TAYLOR ROTHSCHILD ELECTED TO FIRST CITY BANK'S BOARD OF
DIRECTORS.

So, Taylor was doing well. His mother must
have finally turned Rothschild Savings and Loan over to her son. It
was hard to believe that woman would relinquish any of her power to
anyone.

Brenna shoved her long hair over her
shoulders and looked out the window, trying to picture his face. It
seemed to get harder every year to remember those vivid blue eyes.
She shook her head. There was too much to do today to start getting
mushy, especially on a hopeless cause.

It was over . . . it had been from the day
she walked out on him and fled to the Sleepy Hollow Inn. She and
Taylor had spent many a romantic weekend in the mountains because
they both loved to ski, but they had never been to Hollow Ridge.
Brenna had come to Hollow Ridge because of a famous hip surgeon
that she was sure could help her sister walk again. Fate must have
been smiling on Brenna for once in her life because the Sleepy
Hollow Inn was for sale and at a price that she could afford. So
they had found a home and a doctor and they began the task of
putting their lives back together.

Enough of the past, she thought as she placed
her cup in the stainless-steel sink, then she opened a drawer and
removed a piece of paper so she could start making a grocery list.
Just as she wrote the last item down, the back door flew open.

Her sister grabbed the handle and flung the
door shut with a loud bang. “Brenna, wait till you see how they've
decorated the town for the Snow Bear Festival. It's better than
Christmas. We're going to have a blast.” Lisa stopped long enough
to hang her coat on a peg, and then blurted out, “I can't
wait!”

“
Stomp the snow off your
feet, young lady.” Brenna watched as her ten-year-old sister
obeyed. Lisa's unruly brown hair framed her chubby face, and her
hazel eyes glistened with excitement. She was like any rambunctious
ten-year-old and thank God she walked without limp.

Lisa grabbed an oatmeal cookie and sat on one
of the stools. “You
are
going to the festival, aren't
you?”

“
Yes. But that's tomorrow,
and I have a ton of things to do today. And so do you, I might
add.”

“
Oh, Brenna,” Lisa said,
making her sister's name sound like a groan.

“
I don't want to hear it.”
Brenna held up her hand. “Work comes first, then playtime. I'm
going to buy groceries.” She grabbed her purse. “While I'm gone,
get Nell to cover the front desk and reset the dining room tables.
I want you to make up the beds then dust.” Brenna slipped into her
apple-red coat. “And don't forget your homework.” She smiled at the
frown on her sister's face as she left out the back
door.

Finally, Taylor Rothschild was free of his
past.

His silver BMW handled like a dream, hugging
the mountain roads as a child would his mother. The cellular phone
rang and Taylor reached down to get the phone. Business didn't stop
just because he drove his car.

“
Just open another
account,” Taylor instructed the voice on the other end. “He's our
largest customer, so handle him carefully.” Taylor said goodbye to
his bank manager, then laid the phone back on the
console.

“
I thought this was our
weekend to be alone,” Carol Holland said, looking at him with
accusing eyes.

Taylor reached over and gave her hand a
squeeze. “You're absolutely right. This is our weekend. No more
work.” To prove his point, he switched off the phone and tossed it
into the back seat.

“
Thank you.”

Taylor propped his elbow on the Corinthian
leather armrest and set the cruise control. “Look at those
mountains. I had forgotten how pretty they are.” The tree-studded
peaks wore a coat of bluish-white powder that clung to the bark and
branches of every tree, producing a fragile beauty. It was
breathtaking, clean, pure, and peaceful. Exactly what he
needed.

“
I know you didn't take a
vacation last year or the year before that. Just how long has it
been since you've been on one?”

He thought for a few moments before
answering. “Three, maybe four years.”

Carol stared at him with disbelief. “Why so
long?”

“
I was going through some
bad times, so I buried myself in work. After a while it just became
routine,” Taylor's voice trailed off as he stared out the
windshield, knowing he couldn't tell Carol the whole truth. He'd
just gotten the black-hearted witch out of his system. A part of
his heart would always be dead because of Brenna Fox. She had the
face of an angel with her porcelain skin and peach-colored cheeks
framed by the thickest black hair he'd ever run his hands through.
He swallowed hard, seeing red instead of white. His jaw clenched at
the thought of his former fiancée. Like a fool, he'd looked for
Brenna, refusing to believe the story he'd been told, but the
search turned up nothing. How could the woman he'd loved slip away
during the night without saying anything to him?

No letter.

No nothing.

He shook himself. Brenna was in his past.

Dead.

Buried along with the hurt. His new life sat
next to him, and if she agreed ... Carol would be his future wife.
Taylor knew he didn't love Carol the same way he’d loved Brenna,
but he liked her a lot and that would be a good start. Some people
started with less. His father once told him that you always had one
great love --maybe he had had that love, but it ended badly. So
he'd given up ever finding the right love.

He had that once.

“
What a quaint little
town.” Carol opened the glove compartment and pulled out a paper
towel, then began wiping the fog off her side window so she could
see better. “Everything looks like it's been dusted in powdered
sugar, and look at that old country store. Did you see the
name?”

“
Hollow Rid-,” Taylor's
voice broke off as the radio faded and the car began to lose power.
“What the hell!”

“
What's wrong?”

“
If I knew, I'd fix it,”
Taylor snapped while he fought the steering wheel with no power
stering. Looking up, he breathed a sigh of relief. A service
station lay just a few feet ahead. “This doesn't sound
good.”

The car lost power just as they reached the
station. He glanced over at Carol, who sat staring straight ahead
and pouting because he'd been so abrupt. “I'm sorry I snapped at
you, but car trouble is the last thing we need.” He reached over
and kissed her, tenderly tracing a finger across her jaw. “I’m
still a little uptight. I should have taken the car in for service
before we left but somehow it got shoved aside, so I guess this is
my fault and I was taking it out on you. I’ll try and do better.
Stay here and I’ll talk to the mechanic.”

Carol smiled. “Don’t worry they will have it
fixed in no time and we’ll forget all about it.”

A half-hour later, the mechanic ambled into
the little office where Carol and Taylor sat drinking coffee out of
styrofoam cups. “Afraid I got bad news, folks.” He wiped the grease
from his hands with a red rag. “I can't get the part ya need 'till
next Tuesday.”

“
Surely someone has a
part.” Taylor stood.