Samantha groaned, and felt disgruntled.
“Any idea how long they’ll be staying in Ocotillo?”
“No. Erik didn’t say.”
“What was that about one of the houses exploding?” Samantha remembered.
“Someone wants to sabotage their project. A lot of weird things have happened. Erik’s hiring security guards to keep an eye on things, as soon as it’s possible to get back up there. Is that the wind?”
“Yes, it’s horrible. Does Erik think whoever did this is still here?” Samantha asked, her scalp prickling.
“He didn’t say. So I guess not. He’s really nice. He was kind of mortified at me, but… not as mortified as he was when someone assumed he was Caleb’s father. You would not believe how much they look alike.”
Samantha laughed shortly.
“You’re giving me a headache, and I don’t want my battery running down. Kiss Caleb for me. Tell him I’ll be back just as soon as I can.”
“Alright. I’ll send you some pictures tomorrow.”
“Thank you. I would love that.”
Samantha ended their call. She turned off her phone and the light, then lay down and tried to sleep.
ROB watched the lights flicker again, and yet another sense of urgency filled him. If the backup generators were installed… but of course they weren’t. They couldn’t be, not until they were delivered.
He felt intense frustration at whoever was responsible for the problems that plagued their project since the beginning. Erik was right. There were a lot, and they were intentional. If it wasn’t for their grandfather’s many years in the business, and the contacts he established, he and Erik would be behind. They’d probably be over budget. If one of the buildings caught fire, it would appear to be negligence—which would be awful—or insurance fraud, which would be even worse. It wouldn’t matter what an investigation turned up. The damage to their company’s reputation, and to their own, would be done.
This attempt at sabotage was thwarted. But what about the cabins, and the lodge? Anxiety filled him as his imagination supplied one worst-case scenario after another.
The lights flickered again, and he quickly completed his task. He needed to get down to the cabins, for more reasons than one.
Rob listened to the wind as he packed up his tools. It might be dying down a little.
He left C, and headed for his SUV. The wind tore and bit, but its fervor was beginning to wane. He collected his bags from the back, and headed to home A.
He caught a glimpse of Samantha’s little car on the way there, and groaned.
What was he supposed to do with her? He couldn’t leave her here, she’d freeze. He couldn’t take her with him, she’d slow him down.
He felt impatience. Everyone else got out of here in time. Why didn’t she? He brushed aside the knowledge that her car was least equipped to handle the weather, and seized on something else.
She stayed behind so she could apologize. She knew none of it was her fault, yet she stood there apologizing, as if she didn’t have the right to say everything she did that night, and more. He’d feel a whole lot better right now if she attacked and accused him instead, but she didn’t, and now his memories tormented him worse than she ever could.
Anger rushed in and rescued him again.
He was faithful to her. He wasn’t guilty like she thought he was, and he didn’t abandon her, either. He didn’t leave without a word and never come back, with nothing but a couple of emails stating he had his own insurance, and he’d file his own taxes.
He didn’t leave. What he did, was wait. He waited for her to come back. For a long time he did, and then he gave up. It was all pointless, anyway. He went back to the friends he had, and… that included the woman who had no respect for his marriage. The woman who succeeded in destroying it.
He suddenly realized how that would look to Samantha, if only she knew. He felt hopeless, and it was her fault for leaving him.
He gathered up the anger that insulated him, once again.
Rob opened the door of home A, and stepped inside. He dumped his luggage on the floor of the entryway, and immediately set to work draining the plumbing.
It didn’t take long before he was ready to open a window. It was sweltering in here! Did he turn up the heat like this? He knew he didn’t leave every light on. Or any, at all. Part of him knew Samantha did it for his sake, out of kindness. The other part scorned the wasted energy. His mood wasn’t improved any by the sweat that trickled down the side of his face.
Rob paused briefly in front of the only room that didn’t have a light burning bright. It was the guestroom, the door was half closed, and that’s probably where she was. A brief image of what he imagined their reunion would be like, flitted through his mind. It didn’t include the fear in her eyes when she first saw him, or the peaceful resignation when she apologized, as if she didn’t need him, want him, or miss him at all.
His heart hurt, and he continued past and on down the stairs.
His phone vibrated. It was probably Erik, considering the circumstances and the late hour. He should’ve called his younger brother before now. He guessed. It wasn’t like he had anything new to report.
“I’m downstairs in A. I’ll probably be done in an hour, and head out.”
“You’re getting a late start,” Meredith replied. “We’ve been wondering where you were.”
Guilt tightened Rob’s chest, as he imagined the look on Samantha’s face if she knew who was on the other end of the line. Or would she even care? The thought irritated him, and sharpened his words.
“I’m not starting at all. I’m in the middle of an emergency right now.”
“You’re on Pine Mountain? The weather forecast said it’s like a blizzard up there.”
“It is a blizzard.”
“Then where are you going?”
“It’s complicated. I’ve got to get down to the cabins as soon as I can, and I don’t have time to talk. You’ll have to do without me, I’m not going.”
“The storm could let up, though. It wasn’t supposed to snow at all.”
“It won’t make any difference, even if it does.”
“The roads are that bad?”
“It’s a blizzard, yes, the roads are bad! I’ve got to go.”
Rob ended their call, scowling, as he put away his phone.
He pulled it back out again, and blocked Meredith’s number.
SAMANTHA was awakened by a hand on her shoulder. In the light of the flashlight he held, she saw Rob.
“We’ve got to go, now,” he said firmly.
“What?” she asked in confusion.
“The power’s out. We leave, or we freeze. Get up, and let’s go,” he said impatiently.
“But where?” she asked, struggling to wake fully as she sat up and found her phone on the bed beside her.
“The cabins, down the hill.”
“But—we’re driving?”
“My vehicle’s buried. We’re hiking.”
“But Rob, I don’t have the right clothes for this! I’ll freeze before I get there.”
“You’ll freeze for sure if you stay,” he said firmly. “The fireplaces are for show, not heat. The candles are LED. We’re wasting time here, if the wind picks up we’re out of luck. So come on. I’ll loan you what I can.”
Samantha hurried after him, wondering if that would make any difference. She knew how cold it was hours ago. It would be even colder now, with the earth enveloped in ice, and no sun to combat the chill. Her boots were made for fashion, not hiking through snow. Her coat was suited for winter in the desert of Ocotillo, not a blizzard on Pine Mountain. Her heart filled with dread.
“How far is it?” she asked, as she hurried to keep up.
“A mile and a half.”
“Rob, unless you have an extra pair of snow boots my size, I’ll never make it,” she said desperately.
“You sure won’t make it if you stay here,” he replied.
Samanth
a felt despair. She’d have to be better off in bed, huddled under the covers. It would take a while for the house to lose its warmth. She went to bed incredibly late. Morning probably wasn’t far off.
“I don’t want to freeze to death out there,” she said sharply.
“Would you rather freeze in here? Look Samantha, I’m going. The cabins have working fireplaces. They have backup generators. The forecast calls for more snow. Stay here if you want, but I’m leaving.”
Samantha held onto the truth, as she followed after him.
Jesus loved her, it didn’t matter that this man didn’t. Jesus gave his life for her, it didn’t matter that this man saw her as an inconvenience. His words hurt, but they could no longer destroy her.
Samantha said no more, but she did think rapidly.
At the foot of the stairs, she saw a couple of open suitcases. Rob handed her a stack of folded clothing, and she hurried into the fleece pullover, and pulled the cap over her head. The gloves he offered were better than her own, she was glad of that. Maybe she’d survive with her fingers intact. Her legs though, and her feet… she put on the two pairs of wool socks he gave her, then tried to pull on her boots.
She removed one of the pairs of socks. It was either that, or go without boots. Either way, it wasn’t enough. She knew it wasn’t.
“I’ll be right back, I have to get something,” she said, snatching up an LED candle.
“Don’t use the bathrooms, the water’s off,” he said after her.
She grabbed the couch throw, and hurried to the kitchen. She knew it was here… the duct tape. And a pair of scissors.
She raced up the backstairs and down the hall, collecting comforters, and even pillows. She stopped in the guestroom, and swiftly cut the down comforter into strips. Feathers filled the air, she was making a terrible mess and destroying company property, but it could make the difference between life and death. She tore off her coat, ripped open the pillows, and stuffed her sweater with the foam. She wrapped her legs over and over with the strips of comforter, and secured them with duct tape. She used more foam and strips of comforter to wrap her boots, too. It was the only thing she could think of to stave off frostbite. She wrapped tape around her feet and legs, sealing in her boots, and warmth, she hoped. She was almost out of tape, so she put on her coat, made a poncho out of another comforter, and taped it around her waist. She wrapped the couch throw over the cap on her head and around her neck, tucking the ends into her coat, then pulled up its hood.
It was the best she could do.
Samantha hobbled down the backstairs in her strange garb, and went straight to the kitchen. Rob might not be thinking about food, but she was thinking ahead, in the hope that she would make it to the next meal.
She stuffed a reusable shopping bag with the rest of the sub sandwiches, the chips, and the boxes of cookies, tea, and sugar packets. She added the sodas, which did not make for a light load. But if they ended up stuck on the mountain for even a day or two, the additional sustenance would be welcome.
Samantha ran through the hall and into the entryway, as Rob opened the door.
“I’m coming!” she called out, her voice tinged with anxiety, as she grabbed up her purse and tucked it inside her poncho.
He wasn’t going to leave her, he was checking the weather as best he could in the dark, but he didn’t bother to tell her that. If she wanted to think the worst of him, he wouldn’t try and stop her.
Without a word, he stepped outside, and she followed. He locked the door behind them, then took the lead. With long strides, he crossed the lot, then the road. Samantha struggled to keep up, using the strips of blanket she wrapped around her head and neck, to protect her face and lungs from the frigid air. In spite of her layers, the icy breeze cut right through. She was already shivering with cold.
She tried to pace herself, but it was impossible. His legs were longer, and he was moving fast.
“Rob, wait!” she cried, as he entered the forest and was lost from view. She had no idea where he was going, and she’d never be able to track his movements there. She had no flashlight, only her phone, and she needed her arms close to her body for what warmth they provided.
“What?” he called, taking a step back.
“You’re going too fast!” she gasped, her lungs aching and her body chilled by the frozen air.
“Unless you want to freeze, I suggest you keep up,” was his reply.
The more shame he felt at how he was punishing her, the more the other side fought to convince him she was responsible for his misery. He didn’t ask her to come, and didn’t ask her to stay. She obviously didn’t want his help. She got along fine without him for the past two years. She could get along without him now.
On they traveled, sticking to the forest where the snow wasn’t as heavy. Rob cut straight across, using the compass on his flashlight to direct his path. Samantha’s back ached and she grew numb with cold as the breeze quickened, slicing through her hastily crafted garments.
She was silent, and he glanced grudgingly over his shoulder. She was falling further behind, which roused both sides of himself to battle. Truth won, but not by much. Rob waited until she caught up, then kept going.
She didn’t know when she’d ever been so tired. It felt she’d been here in the cold dark forest, walking, struggling, tripping, falling, getting back up again, for as long as she could remember. She tried to watch the light as she staggered through the thickly growing trees, the branches that clung, and the roots that caused her to stumble.
Rob reached the other side of the forest as snow began to fall. The wind picked up, but they were close now. It wasn’t much further.
Samantha was behind him. Her movements were sluggish, and he felt a pang of remorse. He promised himself he’d be nicer to her once they reached the cabin.
He moved out of the forest and waded forward. The snow was above his knees, and it was hard going. He spotted a dark wall amidst the white landscape, and relief rushed through him. Not only because they needed shelter, but that the cabin was there at all. He wasn’t sure it would be, after what was done to the model homes. He reached the front steps and unlocked the door, then looked behind him. He panned his flashlight back and forth.
All he saw was snow, whirling in the icy wind, decreasing visibility. It worsened as he retraced his steps at a run.
Where was she? When did he last look back?
“Samantha!” he called, but his only response was the wind.
His heart pounded with fear, as he struggled through the snow that held him back and hampered his movements. He reached the edge of the forest and searched its shadows frantically for some sign of her.
“Samantha!” he shouted as loudly as he could. “Samantha!”
The beam of his flashlight caught a glimpse of crimson, then he saw her lying there, motionless.
“Samantha!” he shouted again, desperate for some sign, as he raced to her side. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her frantically. “Samantha!”
Her eyelids flickered, then were still.
“Samantha!” he yelled, shaking her again. “Samantha, wake up! You’ll freeze to death! Wake up! Samantha, you’ve got to wake up!”
She gave no response, and with a sob, he picked her up and headed back in the direction of the cabin. He reached the edge of the forest, and stepped out into the storm.
The wind lashed, pushed, and pulled, but Rob staggered on, in the direction he hoped the cabin lay. The wind taunted and teased, blinding and confusing him.
Every second could be a second too late. It might already be.
His pride and anger were no comfort to him now. Their true nature was evident, their lies laid bare. The way they built him up, made him feel strong, and protected him from guilt and pain, it was all a lie! They didn’t protect him, they turned him into a monster. They dulled his senses so that he had no mercy, no love, no kindness, no compassion. They blinded him so that he refused what was good, and clung to misery. They wer
e his chosen masters, and he destroyed his marriage in service to them. He destroyed her. And it was all his fault. He ruined his life, and hers, one choice at a time.
He cried out in desperation.
“Dear God, please save her! Everything’s my fault, it all is. I deserve to be punished, not her. Please, help me save her! Please, save me from myself!”
Rob sobbed brokenly as he stumbled on, and straight into the wall of the cabin.
He’d worry later over how badly he squished Samantha, right now all that mattered, was getting her to shelter and restoring her warmth. He clutched her tighter, and followed the wall to the front as quickly as his legs would carry him.
Rob found the steps, the front door, and the knob. He shoved the door open, and swiftly closed it again. Rob brushed his elbow against the wall beside the frame, and the cabin was lit by the fixture above it.
Rob held Samantha against his shoulder, ripped off his glove, and turned up the thermostat. Sixty-five degrees was a tropical paradise compared to where they’d been, but eighty would be even better.
He lay Samantha on the floor beside the couch, and began to rip and tear at the many layers of duct tape holding together her hastily fashioned attempt to survive the treacherous journey he forced her into. Pride lay dead somewhere out in the snow along with his anger, and the truth spoke freely. Guilt and shame crushed him, as he freed her enough to check for a pulse. Relief surged through him at finding one.
He tore off his backpack and ripped off his coat, then searched his pocket and found his Swiss army knife. He sliced through the tape that bound the blanket around her, and pulled it over her head and threw it aside. In her arms, she clutched her purse and a heavy bag. He loosened her grip, and set both on the coffee table.
Her clothing was imbedded with snow, and doing her more harm than good, now. He wrestled with the wrappings around her legs and feet, and pulled off her boots. Her socks were dry, and her feet showed no sign of frostbite. But they were so cold. He put her socks back on and got her out of her coat, as pillow foam fell all over the floor. He’d admire her ingenuity once he had her free of ice, and covered with the heavy blanket draped over the back of the couch.
Disengaged (Terms of Engagement Book 3) Page 6