"Why have you stopped?” Race Trevelian shouted, banging the inner roof of the carriage violently with one powerful fist.

"There's a scuffle barring the road, sir," the driver answered.

"I'm frozen to the bone, Rollins! Get this blasted thing moving!" the passenger shouted.

"I can't, sir. The snow is far too deep on either side of the road to go around," Rollins explained.

With an irate growl, Race opened the carriage door and stepped out into the frigid air. Indeed Rollins was correct. In the road, just in front of the horses, stood three men struggling with a young woman.

"Help me, sir!" the girl cried out.

"What the devil goes on here!” Race bellowed. His lengthy stride carried him toward the cluster of irritants.

"None of your business, Trevelian!" one of the men answered, tightly clamping a hand over the girl's mouth.

"I make it my business, Cochran...for you are on my own lands! Furthermore, you bar my way!” Race shouted, as he came to stand before the men.

"Leave it alone, Trevelian. We'll be out of your way soon enough," another man growled.

"Don't make to threaten me. I'll rip your heart out with my bare hands," the elegantly dressed owner of the carriage snapped.

Suddenly, the man holding the girl shouted and released his grip on her mouth. The little chit had bitten him!

"Please, sir...I am abducted from my family this very day! Don't let them take me!" she begged.

The apathetic, piercing green eyes of Race Trevelian glared at her. "I care only to return to my home. This cursed snow has already closed the canyon for the winter. You are no concern of mine." Turning to the man holding her, he commanded, "Move aside, Cochran, and let me pass. It matters not to me what you are about with the girl...but I intend to traverse this road, whether it is trampling upon your dead corpse or not."

The men knew Race Trevelian was not a man to make vain threats. As the girl struggled and screamed, the men dragged her to one side of the road, clearing the way for the carriage.

"As it should be,” Race grumbled as he returned to the carriage.

He knocked on the inner roof, signaling the driver to carry on. He did not bother to glance out the carriage window as it passed the girl, now left to the mercy of her abductors. He must return home immediately. There was no time to dally.

"Halt the carriage, Rollins," he shouted after a moment. The carriage came to a jarring halt. Race Trevelian again stepped into the brutal winter air. Grumbling to himself, he returned to the men and the still struggling girl. "Release her, Cochran," he ordered.

The men looked at him in astonishment. "Who do you think you are, rich man? This is no business of yours," one of them shouted.

"It is obvious that the chit does not wish to go with you. Therefore, release her and allow her to return to her family."

The largest man stepped forward. "Now, look here..." Before he could utter another word, one mighty fist belonging to Race Trevelian met with his jaw, sending him sprawling. Trevelian took two steps forward, grabbed another head between his hands and brought the face down to meet his knee. Tossing the man aside, he reached for the third , who released the girl, and turned to run. Race grabbed his coat yanking him back.

"I am not a man to be argued with,” Race growled just before he shoved the man face down into the snow. "Make a move to stand up and I will show no mercy," he growled.

The third man obeyed. Race looked to the girl and saw her standing aside, mouth gaping in awe. Reaching out, he brutally took hold of her arm and began pulling her toward the carriage.

"My home is in the other direction, sir," the girl informed him.

"The snow will have blocked the canyon by now and I've no intention of turning back. You will have to winter at my home and work to earn your keep until the snow melts in the spring,” Race Trevelian grumbled. He opened the carriage door, lifted her effortlessly, and dropped her inside. "Sit still, and don't talk. I'm in no humor for company."

"Thank you for..." the girl began, humbly.

"I said keep silent, girl,” Race Trevelian reminded her.

The girl did as ordered, snuggling into the comfort of the carriage seat in an attempt to warm her frozen body.

¦

 

The two occupants of the carriage rode in silence. Chalyce LaSalle studied the angry, violent man who sat across from her glaring out into the merciless weather. She had heard stories of the magnificent Race Trevelian--stories of his vast riches, violent temper, and yes, of his unsurpassed attractiveness. Truly, he was as handsome as she had always heard, even more so. And, as violent, too. His eyes were green as any emerald-eyed cat, and his hair was the blackest black she had ever seen. He was tall, broad-shouldered and radiated the essence of power.

Surely, she mused, he was only joking about her having to endure the winter at his home. She must return to her own family! How worried they would be thinking that the Cochran's had actually succeeded in taking her. She must return home.

Carefully she ventured, "Sir...I must return home. My family will think..."

"Your family would be far more alarmed to learn you are sheltering at my home. Come spring we will return you. You can explain to them at that time, and not before...for as I have already told you, girl, it is impossible to leave now."

"But...I…"

"Furthermore, I will not listen to your insignificant babbling any longer. So, silence yourself...or I shall silence you," he growled.

"You've no right to speak down to me, sir," Chalyce stated firmly. The great man before her was obviously surprised by her lack of obedience to his command and at a loss for words. "I am as important and valuable as you are."

"I delivered your life, girl! How dare you..."

"And I have already attempted to thank you for it, sir. I am not adverse to working through the winter in order to earn my keep, but I will not be treated with less respect than you would bestow upon a dog," Chalyce interrupted.

"Believe me, I would value a dog far more than I would an ungrateful child! And, I am not adverse to throwing you out of this carriage this moment and leaving you to the wolves! So fasten your patronizing little mouth or I will make good my threat to do it for you."

"I am truly impressed, Mr. Trevelian," Chalyce said mockingly. "You unquestionably are as vile as I've heard tell."

"You've no idea," he growled, finally intimidating her into silence.

¦

Chalyce wiped the moisture from the carriage windowpane as it came to a stop. A massive log house loomed amid the forest trees. Warm light cascaded from its windows and out across the snow-covered ground. She watched as Race Trevelian shoved the carriage door open with his foot and stepped down, leaving her to exit on her own.

A man, appearing to be several years Trevelian's senior, approached. She listened as Trevelian issued instructions to the man.

"Fetch me a meal, Lyle. I'm ravenous. Oh, and I've brought you something to keep you busy these long winter months."

"We were wondering if you'd make it back, Mr. Trevelian," the man said, looking past his employer, staring at Chalyce curiously.

"Find her something to do, Lyle. Anything. Just keep her out of my way,” Race grumbled.

The older man approached Chalyce and offered his hand. "I'm Lyle, miss. We weren't expecting a..."

"Neither was he," Chalyce assured him, shaking his hand. "I'm Chalyce LaSalle. Your employer rescued me from a truly miserable fate." Watching her angry rescuer stride intently into the house, she added, "I think."

"Well, then," Lyle said, leading her toward the house, "it will be refreshing to have a beautiful young lady to gaze upon for the winter. We're all men here, you realize."

"No. I didn't." Chalyce was then even more uncertain of whether her situation had changed for the better.

"Good men, miss. I see the uncertainty on your pretty face and I assure you, only good men--even Mr. Trevelian. Unfriendly though he may be, he is a good and honorable gentleman."

"I'll have to trust your word on that, Mr....um..."

"Lyle. Just Lyle. Now, follow me into the house. You must be frozen through and through."

"Yes, thank you," Chalyce admitted as she followed him into the house.

"I know Race will speak nothing of this to me...therefore, I must acquire a knowledge of what has transpired from you, miss." Lyle turned, smiling at her. "How is it that you came to be riding in the carriage with Race?"

Chalyce cast her eyes down for a moment, but raised her head proudly as she answered. "You know of the Cochrans that live some miles from here?"

Lyle nodded, then shook his head disapprovingly. "Vile creatures. The entire family," he muttered.

"Yes," Chalyce continued. "I've refused to be courted by the elder brother, Ernest. The entire family was vexed and three of the four brothers took it upon themselves to deliver me to their elder brother...against my will, of course. I was this very afternoon abducted from my own home...pulled mercilessly through the snow toward their dwelling. Mr. Trevelian came upon us struggling in the middle of the road and was irritated that we barred his way. I thought it certain he would leave me to them, but he must have a sliver of conscience in his body somewhere, for he 'delivered' my life, as he himself put it. He assures me that the canyon is impassible and that I will have to winter here."

"That is most undeniably true, miss. We are snowed in now until April, at least," Lyle confirmed.

"April? I can't possibly stay here until April! That's...that's more than five months!" she exclaimed.

"More likely six."

"Six months?" she squealed.

"A disadvantage of living in the mountainous region, for some." Lyle dropped his voice and continued, "Perceived as a blessing to others."

Chalyce looked ahead to see Race Trevelian enter his house, fairly rip his coat from his body, and fling it aside. Immediately he began shouting orders to the two young men who greeted him!

"Stable the horses! Inform Haynes that I've returned and wish to be nourished. Blasted cold...I assume the fire is roaring in the library?" His voice was deep and commanding and reverberated throughout the entryway.

Chalyce looked to Lyle, her eyebrows raised in an expression of astonishment. Lyle shrugged his shoulders and said, "He's a brooding man."

"Brooding?" Chalyce repeated. "Prideful, self-absorbed, more rightly."

"Ah, fair maiden. 'Judge ye not that ye be not judged.' There's more to the pickle than the vinegar," he said smiling. "Now, come along. You need warmth and nourishment. It's late now...we'll find something for you to do come morning."

Chalyce smiled then. Lyle seemed intriguing. In the few minutes they had shared conversation, she had received a keen insight into his character. She read people well, and she liked this person. He struck her as truly honest, utterly loyal, and somehow uncannily wise.

¦

"Imagine..." Lyle began as he poured the hot cider into his employer's mug later that night, "finding such a lovely...and smack in the middle of the road."

 Race Trevelian said nothing in response, simply stared angrily into the fire burning in the hearth before him.

Hours earlier, Lyle had shown Chalyce to the room that would be hers. Now, he and Race were the only two people in the house that did not sleep. So it always was.

"She's got the look of an angel," Lyle commented.

"An imp, more likely,” Race grumbled.

"Such brilliance in green eyes I've not seen since...well, yourself, sir."

"Wicked green. Spiteful and proud."

"And her hair...quite striking in its rare auburn tint."

"Yes...the hint of the she devil, red."

Lyle smiled to himself and watched his employer carefully. "A complexion like porcelain..."

"Not enough sun."

"Ah...but rosy cheeks and lips."

"Painted, no doubt."

Lyle's smile broadened. His employer rarely gamed with him and he found it intriguing. "The frame is slight yet curved pleasantly."

"The runt of the litter, undeniably."

"Overall, an unusually beautiful young woman."

"A stubborn, ill-mannered, garrulous brat."

"And such a fascinating name...Chalyce. Unusual."

"A name more befitting a domesticated mongoose than a human being."

Lyle smiled. "I think I'll retire, sir. Do you require anything else?"

"I require that you keep her out of my way, Lyle. I've no tolerance of people. Return her to her family when spring rears its ugly head. I wash my hands of her,” Race responded.

The amused smile left Lyle's face as he exited the room. Taking one last look at his employer, he shook his head in disappointment.

¦

Lyle entered the library the next morning to find Race asleep in the chair he'd left him in. Race rarely retired to his own bed. He seemed to prefer the uncomfortable seat before the fire.

"Good day, sir," Lyle spoke, as Race’s jaded eyes opened and glared at him.

"I doubt it, Lyle,” Race mumbled as he rose to his feet.

"I'm ready, Lyle. To earn my board here," Chalyce said from the doorway, thus announcing her arrival.

Both men turned to see the fresh beauty standing just inside the room. Chalyce looked from one to the other, settling on Race. "Those were your orders, were they not?" she asked Race.

"Indeed. Occupy her," he growled at Lyle, rising from the chair, pushing past Chalyce, then charging angrily from the room.

"He's an enormous man," Chalyce remarked.

"Yes, powerful as well. The strength of ten, I've no doubt," Lyle added.

"The brutality of ten is more closely the truth," Chalyce corrected.

Lyle raised his eyebrows, curious. "But women find him brutally handsome, all the same."

"If one's preferences turn to scowling expressions and heartless words, I suppose so." Chalyce came to stand before Lyle, awaiting his instruction.

"Ah, but a heart of gold beneath the ice."

"Of stone, no doubt," Chalyce corrected once again. "What duties await me, then, this frigid, winter morn?" she asked smiling.

Lyle chuckled. "Well, at least you've accepted your situation. I've a mind to make you housekeeper. I try my best...but dusting, polishing, and the like...well my coordination does not seem adept to these tasks. You may begin in this very room. There are some beautiful furniture pieces, as you can see. It's been years since they've been cared for properly."

"That is an unusual rug, there before the fire," Chalyce commented. She had never seen one comparable to it. It was furry, white and enormous.

"Peruvian. Very  soft. You'll find dusting cloths and oils in the room off the kitchen. Stop in and have yourself some breakfast as you go through. Haynes is the cook...very good one at that. He's expecting you."

Chalyce found Haynes to be a very congenial man. He was attractive, boasting blond hair and blue eyes, and perhaps ten years her senior. He spoke comfortably with her as he served her a man's-sized breakfast.

"Ol' Race...he doesn't often come home with a woman tucked under his wing," Haynes commented, smiling suspiciously at Chalyce.

"He rather unwillingly rescued me from the elements...not tucked me under his wing," she informed the cook.

"And do you find him as seductively handsome as every other female on this earth?" Haynes asked unexpectedly.

Chalyce choked slightly on the mouthful of milk she had begun to swallow. She regained her composure quickly, however, and answered, "He's magnificently handsome...and I'd be a liar if I didn't admit it. But, since you've chosen to be so forthright, so shall I. He's a sadistic, selfish, brute...whose very being seems void of compassion or concern for any other human save himself."

Haynes raised his eyebrows in awe at such a judgment. "Is he? All this you've gathered from a mere few hours in his company?"

"He nearly left me to be...to be...compromised by an entire band of degenerates! Then, after he had salvaged me...and I'm sure he did so against his better judgment...he threatened to throw me to the wolves!"

Again Haynes' eyebrows raised in wonder. "Well...the mere fact that he took you into his protection at all...wouldn't that establish that he must possess some compassion?"

"Conscience does not require the company of compassion," Chalyce stated. "Still, I owe him my very life."

"That's what vexes you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You are indebted to him. He delivered you from certain tragedy. People always despise those to whom they are indebted," Haynes said, as he wiped his flour-dusted hands on his trousers.

"I don't despise him," Chalyce corrected. "He's just...he's just..."

"He will not expect you to repay the debt, Miss LaSalle. Even if it were possible to do so. He works hard to be the man that he appears to be."

"Do you and Lyle stay up nights concocting riddled defenses of your employer?" she asked.

Haynes chuckled. "No. But, remember...we are they who know him best. We're his friends, and only company. We know him. We've seen him through...through many years. He's a good man."

"He pays you well, does he?" Chalyce giggled.

Haynes chuckled and smiled as he studied Chalyce. "You're a beautiful young woman, Miss LaSalle. I look forward to seeing you in my kitchen each morning this winter."

As he winked at her before returning to the stove, Chalyce smiled. She liked this man as well as Lyle. Whatever could be their reason for such compassionate loyalty to a brute like Race Trevelian?