Chapter One
Bennett
Stepping out of my rented Lincoln MKX outside the local Lakeland grocery store, I’m immediately greeted by the town’s mailman. “Hey, Rocky. You’re here earlier than usual. Got a deadline?” he asks with a wink. The man has to be sixty. I remember him when I was a little boy that he delivered the mail through the harshest conditions with a smile on his face.
“Yep, Mr. Taylor. Have a good one.” I walk on, leaving our conversation there as I enter the store. I’m not much of a talker, and they all know it, so the locals don’t bother with anything more than a quick hello. It’s not because I’m famous and I think I’m better than them; it’s just who I am. I’ve lived here most of my life and well, they’ve always known I save my words for my pages.
The ding from the sliding doors draws attention to me, and I get a couple more friendly “hellos” as I snag a shopping cart. The locals don’t mind my silence because socializing isn’t my style. I take my time, getting everything I need to stock up, so I don’t have to make an unnecessary trip later on in the week.
Once I toss my things onto the conveyor belt, I see a high school classmate that I remember well. Jason Watson’s directly in front of me, wearing a football jacket for the local team with the word “Coach” emblazoned on the back. I’m glad that he still gets to participate in football.
We don’t speak to each other and that’s because he’s the guy who ended up on the wrong end of my fist. Jason started the fight, but I ended it. Now I’m actually taller and well cut in comparison to when he used to pick on me.
He walks off with his bags, shoulders stiff, looking a bit bothered by our brief encounter, so I reach out and stop him. “Jace, can we leave the past where it belongs?” He pauses, assessing my offer, and then with a smile, he nods.
“Sure. I’m still sorry about the bullying bullshit.” His face is flushed with embarrassment. Being an introverted, quiet person has allowed me to read people and their body language well. He’s truly embarrassed about his behavior, but we can’t change the past.
“It’s all water under the bridge. I became a tougher man for it,” I confess.
It’s the truth. No one intimidates me now and I don’t allow anyone to believe they can.
“Okay. Take care,” he mutters, avoiding eye contact with me.
I extend my hand for a handshake which he readily does. “Same to you.” He leaves and I feel a lot better about it, and I hope he does, too.
I pay for my groceries, quickly exit the store, and load my rental with the twenty plus bags. Slipping on my sunglass, I start the engine and pull out of the parking spot onto the main road. As I drive by, people wave to me, so I return the greeting. I’m not sure who they are, but everyone’s so damn friendly that they say hello to anyone and everyone.
The road becomes desolate as I get out of town and travel up the winding road to my family’s cabin. We’ve had it in our family for a century although it’s been updated and expanded over the past few decades to a six-bedroom, four bath home.
I pull up the driveway, park outside the garage door, and then enter the code to pull inside the massive five-car garage. It’s large but almost completely empty. I only keep an extra car in here for emergency use.
“Life is good.”
Cutting the engine, I hop out and grab my computer bag and the first set of grocery bags. I’ve picked up enough groceries for my time at the cabin and then some. I’m not sure how long I’ll stay, but it’s usually two weeks.
Technically I could live up here forever, but frankly, I don’t like the brutal winters. Besides, I have a ranch in Texas that I love. This beautiful place is my writing retreat that I indulge in at least once a year. I take in a deep breath and open the interior door that connects to the garage to the cabin.
Once I get the first round inside, I notice that the cleaning company I hired has done its job. The place is immaculate even down to the nooks and crannies. There isn’t a speck of dust or cobwebs to be found. I take a stroll through the house and make sure that I’m alone, and there doesn’t seem to be a family of wolves living here. Thankfully, I’m completely isolated.
Four years ago, I got a shock of a lifetime, walking in to find a pack of wolves making my living room their home. I hired a company to inspect the property every month. It’s sure as hell one heck of a surprise I have no intention of repeating. For some reason the wolves love this area as much as I do, and we still get them from time to time. A wildlife rescue team takes them up north to their normal habitat. From what they tell me, the wolves love the water source nearby which I don’t mind as long as I’m not around for it.