Blackstone Ranger Charmer - Alicia Montgomery Page 0,6
helped a lot. But, oh, there were bad days, like today, that made her feel she would never truly forget or be free of the past. Not when she wore those reminders on her body.
Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself. As she passed by the sink, she froze. Normally, she didn’t bother to stop and look at her reflection, but an urge made stop. Maybe she was turning into a glutton for hurt or because she couldn’t possibly feel any worse that she already did, but something in her made her want to confront her scars.
Slowly, she lifted her head to see the reflection in the mirror. When she had met other burn survivors the first few years after it happened, she knew it could have been worse. Some of them couldn’t even hide their scars as it covered and discolored their entire faces or bodies, while she could easily hide them with the right hairstyle and clothes. Her eyes, lips, and ears were left intact, but webbed skin covered most of her cheek, and there was a patch of scalp behind her ear where hair couldn’t grow. Her entire right shoulder and arm were covered in patches and scars that extended to just below her fingers. It was where most of the skin grafts were applied to ensure she would regain functionality and reduce the pain.
Her physical therapist helped her recover and even suggested she take up some kind of hobby to help the skin stretch and regain elasticity. That’s when she discovered baking, which not only helped her physically but also mentally. She finally found something she was good at, something that she could be proud of. But then, when she thought things were looking up, it seemed life was only setting her up for the next disaster.
Unable to keep on staring at herself, Temperance whipped her head away and dashed out to the small bedroom. She grabbed her robe from the hook on her closet and put it on, then used the towel to dry her thick, dark hair. She kept her locks long as it was easy to style it to hide the right side of her face and neck, while long-sleeved shirts hid the rest.
Satisfied that her hair was dry enough, she meandered out to the combination living–kitchen room and put the tea kettle on. The single wide trailer was small, but she kept it clean and added a few pieces of decor to make it more homey, like the large Monstera plant in the corner, a lamp and reading chair, plus new throw pillows on the worn couch. It was the first time she’d ever lived alone, and she loved it—loved being free, loved the independence of being able to do anything she wanted, whenever she wanted.
The kettle whistled, so she dropped a teabag into a mug and poured the hot water into it. After allowing it to cool for a minute, she grabbed the mug and then settled into her reading chair. Truly, she loved her life now; the last three months living in Blackstone had been an improvement over the last twenty-five years of her life. She was so thankful to get out of her last situation and that her boss at the bakery she worked for back in Chicago understood why she had to leave. They’d even referred her to a friend who ran a pie shop who was looking for help.
That’s how she found herself in Colorado. Blackstone was a nice town, not that she had any time to see it. Her hours were from five in the morning to one in the afternoon. After that, she went straight home and read or watched TV, then fell asleep after dinner so she could do it all over again the next day. Her life had a routine; it was boring, but at least it was her life.
A knock on the door shook her out of her thoughts. Who could that be? Probably those people from that church again. When they came last week, she’d been too polite to tell them to leave her alone, so she accepted the book they offered and nodded when they said they’d be back. The book still lay on her kitchen table, untouched.
The knocking became insistent, so with a deep sigh, she got up, grabbed the book, and walked over to the door, yanking it open. “Look,” she began, shoving the leather-bound tome forward. “You can take this—” Her heart stopped