Hey guys, I ended up
posted 2 excerpts, so after Full of Grace, the orig story I wanted to post is the second story, One of a Kind which has a paranormal/time travel theme. Let me know what you think.




Full of Grace
By Rachel Cade









“But I’m supposed to be going on vacation soon, for the holidays.” Claudia Johnson pushed her sliding horn rimmed glasses back up the bridge of her nose as she listened to her boss lay out all the reasons that it was completely her responsibility to head out to the middle of nowhere Minnesota in December to hand some poor old lady foreclosure papers.

“… you’ll be back in time to head out to L.A. for Christmas.”

Every fiber of her being was screaming for her to say no, to tell him to take the paperwork in his outstretched hand and shove them where the sun didn’t shine. She couldn’t stand him, from his shiny bald head to his lopsided grin.

Biting against a scathing remark, she accepted the papers, willing her audible sigh to retreat back down her throat. The repeating mantra ‘I am not a kiss ass’ playing in her head did not help the situation, nor did the fact that his gesture, holding out the stack of papers full of legalese that ultimately meant ‘get out’ was performed before he’d ever asked the favor.

A glint in his eye suspected that he awaited a challenge, she was after all Claudia Johnson. She didn’t necessarily have a reputation for being the friendliest person in the office. However, two back to back incidents that had forced her into taking anger management classes had almost cost her job. She had to tread lightly, and she was going to have to tread in (), Minnesota.

Home was the tiny overpriced apartment, her roommate was Serge, a Siamese cat who ruled the place with a claw filled paw – at least he thought so, despite being told daily that it wasn’t the case.

His highness was currently lounging on the back of the couch while Claudia chatted with her sister on the telephone.

“Have you ever heard of (), Minnesota?”

“Minn – what?”

Claudia pointlessly repeated herself as she tried not to get Chinese takeout stains on the paperwork. “Is it anywhere near St. Olaf.”

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“You know St. Olaf isn’t a real place.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m so done talk-”

Marie giggled. “You know Minnesota might as well be Alaska to me. What’s there?”

“Josephine Morgan.”

“Who’s she?”

A reasonable enough question, but Claudia found her lips pursed to the answer. To explain who she was would inevitably lead to why she was going to see her, if she were to be truthful. She felt guilty saying out loud exactly why she was going there. Two years ago Marie’s husband had lost his job, and soon after they lost their home. It was a horrifying time for her and she knew the mere mention would force her to relive it.

“She’s just doing some business with the firm.”

Of course she would wake up late. Leave it to Claudia to do just that, and almost miss her flight. By the time she realized what was going on she was looking crazy in the airport, wearing the suit she’d had on the previous day, trying, trying so damn hard not to yell at the woman across the counter as she was explaining her only bag had been lost.



By the time she arrived in Minnesota, she realized she only had enough money on her card to pay for the car rental she needed to get to (). Not enough money to buy a coat or the heavy boots that were in her lost bag.

In the car she was boiling angry, the only saving grace was the GPS system, so at least she wouldn’t get lost and have to bother to ask for directions. The idea of her personal things being anywhere just –

She really should keep her mind on the situation at hand. There was heat in the car too, that was a good thing, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen so much snow. Glancing around at the wide open spaces now that she got further from the city was strange but mesmerizing. She was the only car on a desolate but plowed road. For miles on both sides of her was nothing but white untouched snow, off in the distance along the horizon she could see mountains capped with ice and rimmed with clouds.

She felt immensely alone, then angry about her bags, and then guilty. By the time she arrived at the isolated cabin the sun had gone down.

“Great.” She mumbled, the first word she’d said aloud in over an hour. She scanned around before reaching in the backseat to grab her files. Adjusting her glasses she pulled her wool hat down over her head. Pointless to do a mirror check, she felt like shit and was sure she looked it.

The house was a lovely two story colonial, which was currently dark, at four thirty in the afternoon. This was nothing she was used to, there was no street no streetlight, no other houses. Just this place flanks by pine trees behind it, and miles upon miles of snow.

What if that woman wasn’t home? She could have called. That might have been bright, maybe too bright. Nose flared she opened the driver’s side door, it made it about six inches before cracking against a three and a half foot snow bank. A blistering wind rushed up her slack covered thigh, hissing, she quickly slammed the door shut and turned the car back on, welcoming the blast of blessed warmth.

This was not New York cold, she thought warily checking her gas hand. She had enough to make it back to the airport.

But coming all this was pointless if she couldn’t get out of her car.

There was hardly room to maneuver in the narrow pathway that was a mere few feet off from the front porch.

“God, why would anyone live out here?” She growled, swishing the steering when lack and forth trying to get enough room to open the car door.

The passenger side door began to hit snow she knew this was as good as it got and opened and turned off the ignition. The horizon was now tinged with the glowing blue of the long retreated sun, and a howling wind did nothing to ease her trepidation.

Once again upon opening, her door hit the snow bank far too quickly, and offered her about half a foot more room than it had before.

Frigid cold stabbed at her face as she squeezed through the tiny opening, balancing on one foot, trying not to lose her car keys or files.

Slamming the car door as hard as she could, the sound echoed on forever and she peered at the house for any sign of life. Now pinned between the car and a mini mountain of snow she had to sidestep to make it to the front of the car. Knowing her luck she’d scrape the finish and the car rental company would make her pay for it.

In mid mental tirade on the lousy shoveling job someone had done out here she realized there was no path dug from the car to the stairs that led to the front porch. The back of her black Donna Karan was already slathered in snow and presumably ruined. Now a four foot long three foot deep pile of this mess was in between her and the front stairs.

Her inappropriately covered feet almost wailed aloud in protest. She had half a mind to toss the papers over it, get back in her car and high tail it the hell out of here. Was this some type of joke? Was her boss somewhere laughing into a martini in some gloriously well heated restaurant?

Clutching the papers to her chest she weighed her options, as if she had any.

The theory that the snow was packed enough to just walk right over proved erroneous. On first step her foot went down and the ice immediately sank though her tights to the skin. Her muffled cry immediately morphed into an enraged growl. “Shit!”

It was a short distance, but none the less she almost feel twice, attempting to take huge steps, each of which landing like anvils in cursed ice. It seemed far more practical for them to rent reindeers and sleighs to commute around Minnesota over cars.

“This is some kind of joke.” She repeated, out of breath on all fours in the snow, she reached for the front porch banister like a hand extending from the heavens.

Claudia wiped snow from her glasses just to find her gloves was only putting more back on them.

Her nose was now running, and the thought of wiping it with a frigid wool sleeve almost brought tears to her eyes. She hadn’t even done what she was sent here to do, and all she wanted was to go home.

Licking dry lips, she reached for the doorbell. All guilt she felt for the old woman was gone. She was cold, tired and annoyed as all hell.

Swearing, she rang the bell again, following it by a knock that surely blistered her knuckles.

No one was home, she’d come out all this way for nothing.

“Oh God.” She breathed, she could barely see her hand in front of her face now.

Glancing around she saw that it had begun to snow.

“Th – there’s enough already - ” She whispered.

The massive front door swung open. Claudia covered her mouth against her startled scream.

From the darkness emerged a man. He rubbed his face and may have been sleeping, and looked none too pleased to be woken.

He was wearing an oversized gray hooded sweatshirt that marred most of his face in shadow, there were no lights on in the house behind him, and Claudia’s jaw tightened. Where was the old lady?

Bound and tied up in the basement?

Chopped up in the basement?

“Who the hell are you?”

Straightening she cleared her throat. “I’m Claudia Johnson from Stanley Higgins in New York City. I’m here to see Mrs. Josephine Morgan.”

“Are you?” The sarcasm in his voice didn’t go undetected, while she mentally went over her inventory of weapons. The car keys would have to do.

He leaned slightly and the porch light over her head popped on.

It barely revealed his chin and some of his bottom lip as he spoke. “Does this Stanley Higgins pay you a lot of money?”

“Actually it’s not a re – Yes.”

“Well when you get back to New York, you tell him he sent you all this way to talk to a dead woman.”

She still couldn’t really make out his features and at this point she didn’t want to. She’d drive the rental backwards back to () if she had to.

The snowflakes grew heavier and thicker now.

Shaking her head she began to back up. “I- I’m sorry I came all this way...”

“Didn’t her lawyer call you? Her funeral was last week.”

“Funeral?”

“Yeah. She’s my – was my grandmother.”

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry.”

He offered no response to her condolences.

“What were you out here to see her about?”

“I had some paper work – that umm… concerned her.”

“Why would you have paperwork that concerned her if you didn’t know she was dead?”

She shook her head. “There was a grievous error made, I sincerely apologize.”

Leaning in the doorway he watched her with an unreadable expression.

“You can come in for a minute.”

She squinted behind her glasses. She thought he’d been standing on a stair all this time to account for her disproportionate height to him, but he wasn’t, and his shoulders almost spanned the massive doorway.

“I should be getting back.”

Again, his expression was unreadable.

At that moment, she realized she couldn’t feel her toes.

“Maybe I can come in - for just a minute.”







Chapter Two: Smoke And Ashes

Thankfully he turned more lights on. The house was full of contemporary furniture and there wasn’t a doily in sight. The living room was sunken in and here was a fireplace going. As tempted as she was to run over to it, she remained in snow-stained gear by the front door.

The warm air filled her lungs and she closed her eyes in silent thanks for the temporary reminder of modern civilization.

“You want to sit down?”

His hands were squished into the hoodie pockets and she was reminded of the jocks in college, he was wearing relaxed fit jeans that were fairly wrinkled and he was now barefoot.

“There’s a hook behind you.”

She was failing at remaining composed. Each sound of his voice brought a start from her, it was brutally quite in the house, even the fire barely made a noise.

Claudia removed her coat and almost yelped at the amount of snow heaped on it. She must have looked like a Sasquatch wearing it. The hat stayed on, there was no telling what the hair situation was at this point.

She continued to marvel over the home. It the center back wall of the expansive living space that was covered with plush earth-toned furniture was a white staircase that led to the second floor. It appeared very lived in. There were so many pictures around she began to feel guilty for staring.

“You wanna sit?” He appeared annoyed. She could make out fist marks in the sweatshirt from his hands. Maybe she didn’t want to.

But then again, she had woken him probably, and she guessed he didn’t have many guests out here to entertain. But she wasn’t really a guest, she was stranger, if he knew her true motives he’d probably never let her step over the threshold.

Unceremoniously he walked out of the room. She wondered if she should leave too. This whole situation was just bizarre. If horror movies and thrillers had taught her anything it was that people nothing good happened to people that lived out in the middle of nowhere.

She reluctantly sat down on a wide maroon couch near the fire. Her feet were still cold, but she refused to remove her shoes. Her keys were still on her person and spying the lamp next to her, she tested its weight in her hands in case it suddenly needed to be used for more than lighting the room.

“I put some coffee on.” She snatched her hand from the lamp as she watched him approach her.

He plopped down on the loveseat across from them, a brass coffee table separating them, which soon did double duty as an ottoman when he crossed his large bare feet at the ankles on top of it.

She glanced at his feet back up to his hooded face.

“… Thank you.”

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for more than a while, she looked at everything but him, and from the tilt of his covered face she thought he’d fallen back to sleep.

A quiet buzz from the kitchen caused him to bolt up in a rush that almost gave her a heart attack.

“Coffee.” He groaned, and stood up, as he walked back to the kitchen, she noticed that there was a limp in his walk, a definite limp, and she found it curious.

He came back with two mugs, and sat them on the table.

She thanked him again, and he gave no answer. The steaming cup called to her chilled insides, but warning signs went off again. “Well, I will be sure to tell my boss about this error as soon as I get back to New York.”

He was leaning forward, his head down as he sipped the coffee. “I didn’t know if you like cream or sugar, so I left it black.”

Sucking in a deep breath he smelled the coffee like it would bring him back to life, and she wondered how long he’d been asleep, in the middle of the afternoon.

Deciding that pretending to drink would suffice and at least give her warmth and focus to get back on the road the brew barely touched her lips while the heated smoke singed her nose with delightful fire and the rest cascaded over her cheeks like a lover’s breath. Maybe she held the hazelnut liquid too her face for too long, when she finally lowered the mug it she frowned at the coolness as her wet hair brushed against her chin.

The steam covered her glasses and she suppressed a laugh as her world went foggy and she used a still chilled fingertip to wipe away the residue. A tendril of curled dark hair surfaced, a pale slice of cheekbone. He’d taken off his hood, and still hovering his face over the mug. He must have felt her eyes on him.

“How was it?” He asked.

Claudia hunched forward, sinking her back into the chair, trying to get a better angle of him over her top of her slipping glasses.

Slashes of bright green eyes caught her in the telling position. The grim turn of his full lips made her say quickly. “It was fine.”

Claudia brought the mug to her lips which were almost scalded, completely forgetting that it was steaming hot.

“Are you alright?” He asked, not an ounce of real concern laced his tone.

“Sure.” She placed the cup on the table, licking her mouth. Her cool fingertips were quite welcome just then, as she touched the pads over her lips, praying she hadn’t burned them.

The deepness of his voice should have given it away but he was older than she’d guessed originally. The worn sweatshirt and his build had led her to believe he was a college student. But now as she looked at him, he appeared to be in his early thirties. He was extremely pale, not that he could get much sun in this desolate state. His eyes were very … she couldn’t really figure out a word to describe them just then. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about them on her.

He stood up and moved to the window. Pushing back the curtain he said. “Did you know a storm was coming before you drove all the way out here?”

“I’m sorry?” She winced at the wetness of her shoes against the soles of her feet and went to stand by him at the window.

He eyes widened at the same speed her heart sank in her chest. “Oh my God.”

Claudia scrambled to the front door to get her coat. She was tearing at her pocket for her keys when he said. “Are you joking?”

“What?”

Catlike eyes narrowed on her. “You can’t drive in this, you can’t even see off the front porch!”

“I don’t have a choice-”

“You’re right, you don’t.”

College boy moved toward her, she slid back five steps. “What are you doing?”

“Give me your keys.”

Laughing, Claudia shook her head. “You have to be out of your mind.”

“And driving out into a blinding snowstorm in an area you aren’t familiar with, that’s completely sane?”

“I’m not giving you my keys.”

“Fine, but you’re not leaving.”

She swallowed. Her face was hot, of course she knew it wasn’t safe to drive out there. But how safe was it to stay here?

“Do you have a TV, so I can at least see when this mess will be over?”



Fuzzy lines on a fifty two inch screen stared back her. Frowning, she heard him say behind her. “The storm must have knocked out the signal.”

“This is bullshit.” She ripped off her hat, and her glasses fell as she buried her face in her hands; trapped with no communication, middle of nowhere – middle of a storm. Surely the crappy phone system and her cell phone would fail her – and they did.

His half snide remark about exactly what the police were going to do if the phone had worked, hadn’t helped her demeanor.

How long had she been sitting in the dimly lit study when she heard his voice. “I’m cooking something, do you wanna eat something?” The awkwardness in which it was spoken made her briefly wonder if he had any type of etiquette whatsoever.

Claudia found him in the kitchen, a huge pot of what smelled like stew was on the stove. She was hungry, she had to admit. It was a fairly large kitchen and carried the latest appliances, and a well stocked refrigerator she hoped. After the smells of soup whet her appetite she noticed him to her right. His back was to her and her presence hadn’t been detected. The pleasantly warm kitchen had caused him to take off the large sweatshirt, so he only wearing a well washed t shirt and the faded jeans.

She opened her mouth to announce herself but nothing came out. She tried again, but still nothing. The white shirt revealed shadowed plains of muscle on top of muscle along his shoulders and back. Layered black hair nipped at the back of his neck, he opened a cabinet in front of him and reached to the top of it to get something. The shirt rolled up and a three inch flash of the smoothest skin she’d ever seen greeted her.

He turned unexpectedly and she was forced to lift her eyes up to meet his face.

Stunned to see her he said. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

“I didn’t really have a choice.” She tried to laugh off a matter that wasn’t laughable. He didn’t follow suit. “You know I know this might seem weird, but I never asked your name, or rather, you never introduced your-”

“Phoenix.”

“Th-that’s you na-”

“Yes.” He answered sharply, peering at her for a retort.

“Ok.” She offered quickly.

This was definitely not how she was used to dealing to with people. In her professional life she used to having the upper hand. In her personal life she was used to being comfortable. This didn’t fall into either of those categories. This was her in Minnesota with a silent recluse whose face would probably break if he smiled…

Thank God he wasn’t looking at her just then, the thoughts on her face would probably betray every emotion she was feeling. His eyes appeared to get greener each time he looked at them. In the bright kitchen light beneath his strong jaw line she could see a cleft in his chin. His lips were a gentle rose pink, the bottom slightly larger than the top. Just then though they were creased in a slash while he chopped celery.

***

Solitude broken, Phoenix was forced to associate with an actual person. The last thing he’d expected as he slept through yet another day was having to wake up to the sound of a doorbell. The sight of a snow saturated woman shivering in ice covered glasses was not what he was expecting to find. And now, thanks to the God forsaken weather he’d previously been grateful for, she was stuck here.

Stuck.

Now he was cooking for two instead of one. Why did she keep staring at him? Not that there was much else to do, but he was tempted to leave her here and retreat back to bed upstairs.

Soon after they’d eaten, he did just that. He got back under the covers in his clothes and lay with his eyes closed, in futile attempt to pretend she wasn’t there. Then it dawned on him, she would have to spend the night and had no change of clothes. Part of him thought to close his eyes tighter, but instead he groaned, jackknifed up, stalked to his door and opened it in pursuit of her.

He found her downstairs sitting near the fire, looking like she’d been caught with her hand in a cookie jar. She still wore the glasses and knitted hat.

Shouldn’t he have been used to the sight of her by now, common sense telling him he should find her here?

And yet, he still felt irritated, shaken even, to have her in this house, forcing him to speak and interact with another human being, was he even on the verge of being hospitable? The thought made his chest sink.

“Uh, there’s a guest bedroom upstairs, there’s probably something you can sleep in.”

She nodded. “Ok. I appreciate that.” After a brief uncomfortable silence he did what may have been perceived as a curt nod before returning upstairs. The crackling fire the was the only noise between them, and the intimate firelight cast moving shadows off his hand as it slid up the banister. She was watching him again.

He glanced at her. He head was in the direction of the fireplace. “You want me to show the room or somethin’?” Accusation lanced his voice, mixing with his feeling of irritation, swelling as he said each word.

“No. I’ll find it.”



Phoenix’s head crashed against the pillow, all he could do was stare up at the ceiling, waiting for his sleeping pill to work. Check the clock? Pointless. Out here, time didn’t matter, the days and nights didn’t matter.

When he slept, he could forget.























Chapter Three:

Nightminds



Phoenix woke up with a start. Covered in sweat, he felt like he truly had risen from the ashes. Jaw set, he pulled his legs up and rested clammy hands on top of his knees. Darkness consumed his bedroom, the silence broken by a wailing wind that surely chilled down to the bone.

Head down, with several deep breaths he willed himself into the present and away from vivid nightmare that had once been a reality. One he was doomed to relive every night. He got up, still forcing air into his lungs, letting the slight chill in the air sink into his skin.

Slipping down the stairs with the intention of turning up the thermostat, he paused on the bottom landing. Curled into a ball on the loveseat was his unwanted guest. Now wearing a white nightgown, he watched the firelight dance against her side as it rose and fell with her slumbered breathing. Wrapped in her arms was a chocolate brown throw, a few shades darker than her skin, her face was buried in the leather, and he briefly wondered if she planned to smother herself.

Apparently he’d been too adamant in watching, and he winced as his shin hit a small decorative table, causing a ruckus that would wake a bear.

Startled, Claudia came to, looking all around the room before settling on him.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” She started.

“Nothing. I just wanted to turn up the heat. It’s cold upstairs.”

“I know. That’s why I came back down to the fire.” She swung her legs down, letting her bare feet hit the rug.

Phoenix continued on his way to the thermostat, skidding on his own feet. His eyes shifting back to Claudia as he did a double take that pulled the muscles along his neck. Brown skin turned a yellow red hue as it glowed in the firelight, the abundant cleavage that almost spilled over the cotton sweetheart neckline caused his nostrils to flare.

Her deep-set dark brown eyes appeared blacker than the night that surrounded them, like raven’s eyes, luminous and shrewd. Black hair, previous bunched under a hat, cascaded down her back and shoulders.

“Is it still snowing?” She got up from the couch and moved over to the window. Phoenix’s eyes followed each motion, the cotton flared out just under her breasts, it was actually a simple innocent garment. What was not innocent was the abundant unexpected curves that it clung too.

From the open curtain she murmured. “I can’t even see my car.” She turned her head back to him. “When does it stop?”

“March.”

Eyes widened, she turned fully to him. “You’re joking.”

The sky must have cleared, behind her, beyond the backdrop of the window, lazy snow flurries cried from the darkness, and moonlight struck the frame.

Subconsciously, Phoenix licked his top lip. His tongue held there for the space of two breaths before sliding back behind his teeth. “Do I seem like the type of man that would joke a lot?”

“I’ve known you for a day… not even.” She added lowly. “How do I know what kind of man you are?”



Claudia kept her eyes focused on his face. The task sounded simple, but in actuality he made it more than difficult. It appeared his agenda for the day was to make sure that each time she saw him he would have to peel off a new piece of clothing, because now he stood in front of her shirtless, wearing nothing but faded jeans that hung off sinuously lean hips. So low in fact, she was surprised she didn’t see an underwear line. Was he wearing underwear?

“Oh my God. This is just ridiculous.” She pulled from the window, her cheeks flaming before her unintended outburst and more after. There was no where for her to go. This place versus a snowy wilderness, sudden death. If she’d been another type of woman she’d just have taken advantage of the situation, jumped his gloriously sturdy bones and went home with a smile on her face. But that wasn’t her, no, she had to be awkward and shy and in total recognition that her life just didn’t roll that way.

“What’s ridiculous?”

With a thud she plopped back down on the couch like an impetuous child. Gravity forced her to do a boob check as she felt her cleavage shift uncontrollably against the tight fabric.

Glancing at his bare feet she began. “ – How hard it is for me to see without my glasses.”

She began to pointlessly fix the scattered magazines on the table in front of her. Before she knew what was going on he was holding her black frames between his index and middle fingers. He must have thought she was looking for them, she hadn’t been.

“Thanks.” She said, tightly, taking them.

Now the dilemma, if she put them on, she’d be forced to see him in digital pixel like clarity. Down to the color of his nipples…

She inhaled deeply through her nose, cursing her endlessly wondering mind.

He doesn’t have any nipples, she thought wildly, don’t think about them!

The three foot proximity the coffee table gave them was hardly enough space.

She ignored the blue jean covered silhouette of his thighs in her peripheral. Regardless of his expression, regardless, it was best if she didn’t look up at him, however rude it may have appeared.

But soon he was walking away, back up the stairs, not looking at her either.

“A-aren’t you going to turn up the heat?”

He muttered something, not stopping.

“Do you want me to do it?” She offered.

He was gone.











Chapter Four:

Cabin Fever



The longest night he’d endured finally ended with the arrival of a gray dawn. He’d spent in how in bed trying to will away an erection, that was almost painful. He’d been far too stubborn to take a cold shower. Damn that. And damn her. What right did she have hiding all that body under a bad suit? This was a situation that wasn’t wanted. To endure her until the road was cleaned was enough but this …

Phoenix’s eyes shut, then squeezed, when was the last time he’d even considered getting laid? He shook his head before burying his face in his hands. Why had fate brought this on him? Stuck in a house with a woman he wanted to fuck but couldn’t?

“What kind of shit…”

He almost wanted to growl out his frustration. He hadn’t considered it before, but now a dangerous side of him had been awakened by the sight of her. He could feel a carnal triggering, nipping at him, and it would only get stronger now, as the brown globes of her breasts were now imprinted in his memory. As well as the shadow of her waistline outlined first by fire, then moonlight.

Liking dry lips, Phoenix glanced at his closed bedroom door. A thought occurred to him. Maybe he was taking the situation too much at face value. If life had taught him anything, it was that things weren’t always the way they seemed.