Overcome (2 page)

Anna Belky smiled as she turned into the drive of the lake house. God, she’d missed being here. One more week and she’d be living here full time. Her boxes were packed, the lease on her apartment ended Friday, and Saturday she’d be in full move mode. Sunday she’d spend the day relaxing on the deck overlooking the lake and watch the sun sink down beneath the horizon before she started her new job on Monday.

The boxes could wait while she decompressed.

She narrowed her eyes as she stared at the one thing left most precious to her besides the teaching job she’d just been offered. Why had Peter suddenly let her have the house? It had seemed way too easy at the time—especially since he’d been so adamant during the proceedings about splitting all their belongings halfway—but she, being so excited, had jumped on the chance to live permanently on the lake. Last Friday, when she’d crossed paths with him at their lawyer’s office back in Kansas City—what he’d been doing there she didn’t know—he’d said she could have it. No questions asked. He’d handed her his keys and walked away. For him to suddenly give it up… Well, she didn’t know what to think.

The jerk’s bimbo probably thought the lake house too country for her tastes. Too far away from the city. Whatever. It was perfect for Anna. Just ten minutes outside of Trenton, where she’d be teaching, and even though Trenton only boasted a population of around sixty-three hundred, it was a nice-sized town. It had all the amenities she needed, at any rate. And it was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else. There was no Walmart and no jumbo shopping malls, but if she needed the kind of things provided by those establishments, well, she only had to drive a half an hour to visit one in Chillicothe, or she could traverse back to Kansas City.

She loved being there. It was why, when she’d left Peter, she’d chosen to move away from Kansas City and into Trenton in the first place. She’d been entranced driving through it on their way to get supplies for the lake house. After the divorce, she’d traded big city life for small town in a heartbeat. She’d decided if she couldn’t have the lake house to herself, she could at least be closer to it. Taking in the charm of Main Street hadn’t been a hardship. From its Fair Drugstore with its still working soda fountain and handmade malts and shakes, to the quaint little Crooks General Store where the owners continued to sell penny candy to children, Trenton was everything Anna dreamed history had been like. With the modern amenities too, of course.

What did she care what Peter’s reasons were? He’d given her full ownership of the house, and she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. There was only one elementary school in the district, and she hoped to be hired full time for next year, instead of part time filling in for a teacher on maternity leave for the rest of this year.

For the first time since she’d caught her ex pumping his dick into another woman, all was right in her world. In the space of a few seconds, her life as she’d known it a year and a half ago had shattered, and their beautiful weekend home had turned into a place filled with horrible memories. Of course, looking back, it really was the house that held the memories, not the times she’d spent there with Peter.

Nevertheless, it pissed her off.

“Weekend home on the lake, my ass.” Anna yanked the keys from the ignition and got out of the SUV. “More like ‘sneak away during the week so he can screw some big fake-boobed too much eyeliner candy apple red lipstick-wearing whore bimbo’ home. Cheating ass rat-bastard.”

Dammit, he’d lead her to cursing again. She hated cursing and was doing her best to curb her potty mouth lest she slip in front of the impressionable young minds she’d be teaching. That oughtta go over well with everyone from the parents to the school board. So far, fortunately, the only thing that brought out the sailor in her was Peter.

Ugh. Why did this still bother her so much? It’d been six months since her divorce had been finalized and another year since she’d discovered his high dickness rolling around on
her
satin sheets in
her
bed with Ms. Candy Apple red.

It still stuck in her craw that she hadn’t had a freakin’ clue.

Never mind. Anna had come here on a mission. The first thing she was going to do was plant a tree in the big open space between the house and the lake, right in the middle where Peter had told her he never wanted a tree to obstruct his view. She had begged for a beautiful tree, and he had shot her down every time. So even though she hadn’t stepped foot in the house in more than six months—she hadn’t been able to face those memories quite yet—putting this tree in the earth right where she wanted it would soothe her nerves. Then she could face the monumental task of redecorating the inside and rid every shred of evidence Ms. Candy Apple had ever been in Anna’s domain.

Getting the tree out of the trunk area proved no small task. Anna found herself drenched in sweat by the time the bulb of burlap-covered roots hit the gravel drive. And then she had to lug the dang thing down to the perfect spot. At one time she had imagined her son or daughter swinging from a tire hung from its branches.

Peter hadn’t delivered in the baby department, either. Hadn’t wanted kids. Ever. Something he hadn’t told her until they’d been married for several months.

Jeez, how could she not have seen the real him? How had she been so stupid?

The trek across the yard leading to the lapping waters at the shoreline left her arms feeling like wet noodles. She should have gone for the smaller version. A five-gallon pot instead of one too big to fit in a pot, weighed a ton, and came wrapped in burlap instead. Most of the top hung out the open tailgate. She hadn’t realized how much work it would be to get it from her SUV to the spot she’d envisioned it growing because one of the workers had stuffed it in the rear of the vehicle for her.

Not for the first time since she’d palmed Peter’s share of the keys had she thought maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to move into the house. What if her bitterness toward him took away from her dream place?

What if, despite all her meticulous scrubbing, she couldn’t get past the image of Peter entwined in Candy Apple’s legs?

Annoyed at her train of thought, Anna went back to the SUV to get the shovel and hurried to return to her tree. Digging in the ground ought to be good therapy, a release of energy. She jabbed the shovel into the earth. Of course it dug in about an inch. The hardness of the ground didn’t bode well for her former thoughts of digging a quick hole and plopping a baby maple tree into it. Apparently she was going to have to put forth a bit more effort.

Licking her lips, she dug in again. The ground did not give this time either, and she let out a deep breath. There had to be something more pleasant than Peter to occupy her mind while she whittled away at the hard-packed dirt.

She turned her attention to the school where she’d be teaching first grade. This morning she’d filled out the paperwork and toured the building. There were only two months left in the school year, and Anna hoped, perhaps selfishly, that the teacher would decide being a mother trumped teaching. Surely raising a wolf shifter wasn’t particularly easy? She had no idea. The things she knew about the shifter race she could count on both hands. Which really meant next to nothing. She had a feeling she was in for a wild ride to say the least.

At first she’d worried about the wolf situation, especially with her being human, but she’d thought the challenge would do her good. And thankfully, she wasn’t the only human working there. The ratio, she’d been told, was about three-quarters wolf, the rest human. For both faculty and students. They’d hired her on the spot when she’d interviewed, and she had leaped on the chance. Apparently, finding someone to fill in at such a small school, not to mention integrated, had been a tough go. Seemed not too many outside teachers wanted to work in an area that was more wolf than human.

To her, it meant something new and working close enough to the lake house to actually live there. So here she was, digging a hole in ground that didn’t want to give up its earth.

Despite her excitement about starting teaching the next week, Anna found herself still angry about Peter. She stabbed the point of the shovel into the earth again and waited for the jarring of her body to subside. “Stupid rock. Stupid, hard ass rock. Stupid, hard-headed, asshole
son-of-a-bitch
. Who does he think he is?”

And there went the potty mouth again.

Anna sighed at her lack of self-control.

The cool air off the lake did nothing to abate the sweat rolling down her spine and wetting her underwear. Only March and already hot. The summer was going to be a doozy.

She jammed the shovel into the four-inch deep hole she’d finally managed and wished it were Peter’s head. This time the sharp tip actually penetrated, breaking through a stubborn rock to sink into softer earth beneath it.

Behind her, the house she’d come to love more than anything sat empty, devoid of a human’s touch since that moment of pure clarity.

Except for the shiny silver grill on the deck. She cocked her head as she contemplated it.
Where the hell had that come from? Peter hated barbecue. And he certainly wouldn’t put forth the effort to actually cook.

Anna shook the thought off. Never mind. She’d simply bleach everything in sight before she brought her stuff in. That way there wouldn’t be a trace of Ms. Candy Apple’s DNA anywhere, and Anna could start fresh.

Another stab and she put all her weight into jumping on the shovel, taking immense satisfaction in feeling it submerge several good inches in the clay-like mud. A few more leaps on the shovel and she had a start to an actual hole.

“What are you doing?”

Anna yelped and spun at the deep male voice behind her. The guy was lucky her shovel was stuck in the mud or she might have swung it his direction.

“Shit. You scared the crap out of me.”

He didn’t look the least bit contrite. His hands were stuffed casually in the pockets of his khaki pants, wrinkled from a day’s work, and he’d pulled his blue paisley tie open so the ends hung open down his chest. Short dark hair stood on its end atop his head as if he’d spent the day running his fingers through it. Or maybe he liked spiky hair.

Whatever, the guy was holy hell, Batman hot. So hot she wondered if he was wolf. She’d heard wolf…men were graced with particularly stunning good looks. The way he sort of sniffed the air, a very strange look in his eyes, only supported her guess. Humans didn’t generally go around sniffing the wind. And he more than made her forget all about her cheating bastard of an ex.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry.” His pale hazel eyes—so pale they almost glowed—did not convey apology. “What are you doing?” he repeated.

She blew out a breath, puffing her bangs with the exhale. “Not what I really want to be doing.”

“Which would be?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Digging a six by three foot hole and burying my ex alive.” She glanced at the hole and shrugged. “Or dead. Really doesn’t matter to me at the moment.” When the hell had she become such a bloodthirsty bitch?

Maybe yesterday when she’d received yet another bill in the mail for something he’d bought Candy Apple.

“Burying someone alive is a felony in most states.”

“Probably all of them, not that I give a shit. Bastard deserves anything he gets.”

“So what are you really doing?”

Anna looked at the stranger. Was he a complete moron? Were his good looks all he had going for him?

“Well.” She wanted to speak slowly for his benefit. “There’s a tree in a pot here and I’m digging a hole…”

“You’re planting a tree, I get it. What I’d like to know is, why here?”

“It’s my house. I didn’t know I had to have permission to plant a tree in my backyard. Who are you, anyway? The neighborhood police?”

“The police, yes. You’re on private property.”

“Uh, yeah, my own.”

He shook his head, hands still in his pockets. The man looked tired.

“This is my house, ma’am. And while I’d appreciate a nice shade tree back here, I can do it myself.”

“Pfft. Not sure what you’ve had to drink today, but this is my house, buddy. It was mine and my ex bastard husband’s who somehow got his snazzy pants lawyer to get the property split between us, as if we could share a house somehow, the moron. Now it’s mine. Since Friday. When he handed me his key and told me he didn’t want his half anymore. And why am I explaining this to you?”

The man straightened, his eyes widening a fraction, and something looking similar to surprise invaded his otherwise nonchalant features. Anna’s belly rolled a tad.

She yanked the shovel from its spot and leaned on it, narrowing her own eyes. “Who are you, anyway? Why are you on
my
property.”

He shifted his stance, and finally those hands came out of his pockets to be tucked under his arms when he crossed them over his chest.

“Detective Montross. I bought this place a month ago, lady.”

Every ounce of oxygen was sucked from the Earth in that split second. Spots swam in Anna’s vision and the ground wavered beneath her feet. “That’s not possible. I’m half owner. Owner now. We’ve owned it for six years. We bought it as an anniversary present, and if I hadn’t caught the lying, cheating bastard in bed with Candy Apple, we would still be using this as a weekend house. Maybe.” She ground her teeth in frustration.

One of his eyebrows rose to an impressive height. “Not anymore. The place went on the market a month ago. We snagged it the first day and moved in as soon as the papers were signed.”

“No.
No.
” It wasn’t possible. Unthinkable. Anna clenched the shovel’s handle until she was sure either her fingers or the wood would break. She scanned the house, the place she’d once taken great care in making her own, at the barbecue she hadn’t recognized, and then back down at the spot she’d chosen for the tree. “I need a bigger hole.”

Anna threw the shovel down and stomped toward her car. “No good, weaselly, two-timing, skank fucking slimeball.” She slapped at her pockets for her keys, refusing to shed the tears threatening. “This is my home, god
damn
it.” When she hit the gravel driveway she kicked at the rocks, sending them spraying across the drive to clink against her car.