Bent Not Broken (A Cedar Creek #1) by Julia Goda Page A

memories for me.
    Not until I came to Cedar Creek and met Macy. My happy memories were here, with my friends, my chosen family, my chosen home, and slowly they were starting to outweigh the ones that had came before.

Chapter Nine
    Cal’s Woman
    Ivey
    The reason that made me fall in love with my house was the beautiful front porch. When Linda, the town realtor, drove me a little ways up the mountain through the woods, coming out at a beautiful clearing with this cute little house on it that had a side porch overlooking the town, I was sold. I could see myself sitting out there in the morning, sipping my coffee, at night after a long day of work, sipping my beer.
    Solitude.
    Contentment.
    I fell in love with it right then and there. I didn’t really care what the inside of the house looked like. I wanted to buy it just for the porch. Lucky for me, the inside was just as gorgeous, if a little outdated, but that was something I could work on. It was perfect. That same morning I made an offer and had the keys in my hand two days later. I was home.
    People in town were worried about me up here. Though it really wasn’t that far. Just a five-minute drive up. But a woman all by herself up the mountain in an old farmhouse with nobody close by to come for help was something people weren’t comfortable with. There wasn’t much crime in our town, but during tourist season, which actually was pretty much year round, but peaked in the summer months for hiking and the winter months for skiing—different types of tourists for the different seasons—, there were a lot of strangers around, and people were known to do stupid shit. Especially those rich college kids that came here during ski season and got sloshed every night. But I felt safe. I knew better than most people that even when you were surrounded by people living in a neighbourhood and needed help, that didn’t mean anyone would actually come to help. No, people preferred to ignore something was going on, since if they didn’t, they’d be expected to do something about it.
    This was better. Much better. To come up here, you needed to know exactly where you were going. That’s how hidden my little piece of heaven was. I wasn’t worried. If someone wanted to do me harm, they could do that anywhere in the world. And if someone came up here to hurt me, they would do it swiftly. Getting beaten up doesn’t take long. A few minutes tops. Not enough time for anyone to come to my rescue, even if they lived right next door. Cal was right, a dog might be a good idea. Though I wasn’t going to tell him that.
    Coffee in my hand, enjoying the view and planning my day, I heard a car coming up my drive. No, not a car. A truck. A big truck.
    What the hell?
    A visitor at eight in the morning on a Saturday? Not cool. People who knew me understood that they shouldn’t come knocking before at least nine o’clock, which meant after I’d had my first cup of coffee. I was a zombie and cranky as hell before I had my first coffee. I wasn’t even dressed yet!
    I looked down at myself to check. My favourite dusty purple coloured nighty with the grey trim lace around my chest, grey thick wool socks, and a heavy dark grey wool cardigan that was belted loosely around my waist. At least I had shaved last night in the bathtub. My hair was probably a rat’s nest since I hadn’t brushed it yet and went to bed last night with it still being wet. My hair took forever to dry.
    So already in a snit over my unwanted company and my state of undress in that unwanted company, I got up from my Adirondack chair and walked around to my front steps, waiting with my arms crossed, which everyone knew was woman code for “What the fuck?”
    When the truck came into view and I saw who was behind the wheel, my temper flared. Oh, fuck no! This was not happening! What the hell was he doing here?
    I narrowed my eyes when Cal stopped his truck right in front of my steps, which meant right in front of me, and got out.