by Lois Richer
“Blast!”
Ashley pulled out her cell phone and called Jillian to get directions to the girl’s home. Then she eased out of her parking spot and onto the street. The sky darkened to lead as the wind caught falling snowflakes and hurled them into the air, making visibility difficult.
“Just give me enough time for one stop,” she begged, peering through the windshield. “Just one, then I’m home.”
She found the outlying street without any trouble, but the house was set far back on the property and she had to drive the car down snowy ruts. She could have waited, of course. But the essay Jillian had assigned was due next Wednesday and Ashley had already forgotten once.
She left the motor running, grabbed the square of film and trudged to the door. After a hurried explanation she handed it over to the girl’s mother. As she hurried back to her car, she slipped twice. The temperature had dropped. The storm was getting much worse.
Back on the street Ashley found her exit blocked by two cars that had hit each other head-on. She backed up, took a side road, biting her lips as the undercarriage of the car rubbed over the ice and snow ridges.
“Just get me home, baby. That’s all I ask.”
The road Ashley turned onto wasn’t familiar. These houses were set on larger plots of land, far back from the road, hidden from view.
“They must all drive four-by-fours,” she muttered to herself as she corrected yet another swerve of the car. A truck behind her moved in a little too close so she eased to one side, hoping he would pass and let her to drive at her own speed.
He didn’t pass.
Ashley gripped the wheel tightly as she steered. The truck stayed on her tail, only now the driver was honking. The familiar quaver of panic began in her stomach, pinching its way to each nerve as she crept along, her wheels slipping and sliding over the icy surface, trying to find traction.
What if? What if—
Finally, at a crossroad approach, the truck roared up beside her.
He was going to pass. Ashley drew a calming breath, felt the pressure ease. Everything was fine. She was safe.
“Good riddance to you, too,” she agreed when the truck blasted one last honk before it roared ahead of her.
But the flurry of white it left behind caused her to lose sight of the road. Too late, she realized she was heading for the ditch. Trying to correct, she oversteered. The car spun round and round and all she could do was hang on as memories of another crash took control of her mind.
Except this time there was a soft poof as the car slid into a pile of snow.
She wasn’t hurt. She was fine. Nothing had happened.
Ashley pressed the gas pedal. The tires spun uselessly. She tried Reverse—to no avail.
Great. She was totally stuck on the side of the road in the middle of a freak snowstorm.
“Wonderful,” she grumbled, reaching for her purse. “Not only don’t I know exactly where I am but my cell phone probably doesn’t work out here.”
It didn’t. Hills loomed on either side. Which, of course, blocked the signal.
“Perfect.” Reminded of warnings against carbon monoxide poisoning Ashley switched off the engine. Immediately the howl of the wind whistled around her. The rag-top wasn’t built for this.
At least she had on her low-heeled boots, a warm sweater and her heaviest wool coat. She could walk if she had to. Somebody had to live at the end of the lane across the road—which meant there should be traffic on this road. She turned on her flashers and decided to wait it out.
The heat from the car dissipated in minutes. Ashley drew her collar up around her ears, tightened her scarf around her neck. She’d give it ten minutes. If no one came by then, she’d get out and walk. Locking the doors made her feel a little better.
Time ticked by so slowly.
A forgotten sweater lay on the backseat. She reached back to grab it, heard someone rap on her window. Heaving a sigh of relief she struggled to unroll it, trying to see through the misted glass.
Her breath caught in her throat as a face she’d never forgotten loomed before her.
“Get out.” Same words, same gruff tone.
The terror of those moments rushed back, snapping the paralysis that had kept her silent.
“Go away,” she screamed as she grabbed the handle and rolled up the window. “Leave me alone!”
He tapped on the window twice more but Ashley ignored him, her body shaking as she prayed for help. She pressed the horn, once, twice. He yelled something, rapped one last time then finally left. She tried to see where he’d gone as her heart pounded furiously. Finally a rusty truck pulled onto the road and passed her.
It wasn’t the same vehicle she’d been pushed into so long ago, but then it wouldn’t be, seventeen years later.
Ashley clutched the wheel, closed her eyes and fought against another wash of fear by pulling in slow deep breaths, just as she’d been taught. It took a while but finally she felt able to critically assess her situation.
No way could she get out and walk now. He could be the one who lived down that lane. But neither could she wait here forever. The radio said the storm could last all night. She’d be buried by morning. Already the light was fading.
Fears that had hung in the wings of her mind tiptoed forward, encouraging a host of worries to follow.
Piper and Jason were away. No one would miss her. If the snow and wind continued, her car could be buried, or hit by a snowplow. She could die out here!
Oh, God, I’m scared and alone and I need help. Please send someone.
*
“That’s Ashley’s car.”
Michael frowned, dared to glance away from the road for a second. “Where?”
“Up there. See, Daddy. The sunflowers.”
“Yes, I see, honey.” He followed her pointing finger, saw the car half buried at the edge of the road. What was Ashley doing out here? “I’m going to talk to her. You stay in your seat and keep your belt buckled,” he ordered as he edged over onto the side of the road. “Don’t get out of your seat, Tati. I mean it,” he emphasized as he set his hazard lights.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Michael tugged on his gloves then stepped out of the vehicle, struggling through the accumulation of snow to reach her. The car was going to need a tow truck.
He rapped on her window.
“Leave me alone!”
Uncertain that he’d heard the words correctly, he tried again, pulling on the door handle as he spoke.
“Ashley, it’s Michael Masters. Are you all right?”
The window rolled down a crack. “Michael?” she whispered.
“Yep, it’s me. Unlock the door and I’ll help you out.”
“I’m stuck.”
“I can see that. You’re going to need a tow truck and they’re really busy with the storm. You can come to my place to wait. It’s just down the road.”
“Okay.” But she didn’t move.
“You have to open the door, Ashley.” He checked to be sure Tati was still safely inside his car as another vehicle approached.
“Need any help?” a man in the other car called out.
“Not unless you can pull this out.” Michael already knew the little import he was driving would be no help.
“Sorry. Haven’t got enough power.”
“Thanks anyway.”
As the other car drove off he heard door locks click. A moment later Ashley opened her door. In the light of her car Michael thought he saw tears on her pale cheeks.
“Are you hurt? Anything broken?” he asked, checking her face, her clothes. But aside from the tear tracks, Ashley Adams looked as immaculate as she always did.
“I’m fine. It was a soft landing.” She stood staring up at him, her big gray eyes filled with shadows, her voice trembling. “I’m so glad you came.”
“So am I.” He took her arm, helped her over the crust of snow and onto the road. “Go get in my car. I’ll lock up here. Do you have your keys?”
/> Confusion filled her face. “I don’t know.”
Something was obviously wrong, but he wasn’t going to question her now. Michael bent, glanced at the ignition.
“They’re here. I’ll bring them. Can you make it to the car or do you need help in those boots?”
“I’ll wait for you,” she said, so softly he barely heard.
She sounded terrified. Utterly unlike Ashley.
Frowning, Michael removed the keys, locked the doors, then turned to grasp her elbow. “Okay, let’s go. Tati must be wondering what’s taking so long.”
“Tati. Yes.” She hurried along beside him, glancing over one shoulder, then the other as if expecting something to jump out of the bush.
He helped her inside his car and closed the door. A shot of surprise filled him when she quickly locked it. Something was definitely wrong. Michael unlocked his door, climbed inside, glad for once of Tatiana’s chatty voice.
“Did you get pushed in the snow? Wanda says lots of people will have trouble in this storm. She says people never drive with the proper equ—” She paused. “What’s the word, Daddy?”
“Equipment.”
“Yes. Equipment. Anyway, that’s what Wanda says. Is that what happened to you, Ashley?” Tati leaned forward, tapped her on the shoulder when no immediately answer was forthcoming.
“Uh, yes. I guess it is.” Though Ashley managed a smile, her color had still not returned.
“We passed a number of people who’d gone off the road and there are only two tow trucks in Serenity Bay so you’ll have a bit of a wait. But you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you like,” he told her, concentrating on turning the slippery corner. “I’m sure you’ll want to phone Piper and let her and Jason know you’re okay.”
“They’re out of town.”
“Oh. Well, good thing we came along then.”
“Yes, it is. I tried my cell but it wouldn’t work.” She huddled in the corner as if afraid he’d bite.
“Service is iffy when you get down in the valley here,” Michael explained, unable to rid himself of the feeling that something else had happened to shake that reserved manner she usually clung to like a cloak. “We’ll be home in a minute. You can call the service station from there.”
“Thanks.”
Tati chatted about her day the rest of the way home, leaving little space for any other discussion. Michael hit the remote for the garage door, then pulled inside, glad to be off the road.
“We made it.” He climbed out, helped Tati down from her seat. By then Ashley was out of the car, standing beside him. “Come on inside.”
He unlocked the door for them before rescuing the pan of lasagne his mother had placed in a box in the trunk. After sliding it into the oven and setting the temperature as she’d directed, he shed his coat, helped Ashley out of hers and hung all three on the pegs by the door. Tati’s boots took a little longer. By the time he had them off Ashley had slid her feet out of her own smooth calf-leather footwear. Her feet were bare.
Michael grabbed a pair of his socks from the laundry room.
“You’d better put these on or your toes will freeze on these cold floors.”
She didn’t argue. “Thanks.”
“The phone’s over here. The number is on the wall above it. At least that’s the one I’ve used. The book is in the drawer if you’d rather try someone else.”
“I have an auto club,” she told him. She drew her wallet out of her bag, took out the card and dialed the number on the back. She gave the information then turned to him. “I don’t know where to tell them I am,” she said quietly.
“I’ll explain.” He took the phone, gave the directions then asked that the truck call them just before arrival so they could meet it. “How long?”
“At least a couple of hours, I’d imagine. We’ve got a whole list before you. Everyone’s working as fast as they can.”
“Okay, thanks.” He handed the phone back to Ashley who spoke for a moment then hung up. “All right?”
“Yes, thank you. She said to expect a long wait.” She looked at him through her lashes, her gray eyes shaded. “I’m sorry to intrude on your evening like this, Michael.”
“Don’t be silly. My mother sent supper. I’ll just get the rest of my stuff from the car and when everything’s ready we’ll eat. Tati, you show Ashley the living room. Maybe she’d like to watch the news.”
“I don’t like news. I like to paint. Do you want to see my paintings, Ashley?”
“I’d love to.”
At least she’d warmed up to his daughter, Michael mused as he lugged in the groceries he’d stocked up on. His mother had insisted on sending along a full meal. Garlic bread, a Caesar salad, fresh blueberry pie and a bag of lemon coconut cookies for Tati. A perfect dinner and no cooking.
As Michael set the pie at the back of the stove to warm, he glanced into the living room. Ashley was seated on the floor, a crayon in her hand as she followed Tatiana’s directions for drawing a butterfly. Whatever had bothered her out there seemed to be gone now.
Tati switched on the lamp and it shone down on their guest’s blond head. A burgundy turtleneck hugged her curves. She wore matching wool slacks. When she moved, a faint tinkling at her waist drew his attention to the golden belt cinched around it.
Ashley was every bit as gorgeous as he’d remembered her. Better than that, she was at his home for dinner and couldn’t leave even if she wanted to.
Michael smiled at the irony.
But his smile quickly disappeared when she rose, went to the windows and pushed aside the drapes to peer outside into the yard. So she wasn’t totally in control. Which meant that she was still afraid. He made up his mind to find out what had caused this reaction.
“Dinner’s ready. Wash your hands, Tati.”
His daughter grumbled all the way to the bathroom, but she skipped back happily enough, presenting her palms for him to sniff. “I used soap,” she told him.
“I can smell it. Good girl. Ashley, have a seat there, if you’d like.”
“Thanks.”
“We hold hands to say grace. Is that okay?”
Ashley said nothing but when he stretched out his hand, she paused before sliding hers into it. Her skin felt like silk against his work-roughened fingers. He tried not to notice when she grasped Tati’s little mitt with no apparent hesitation.
“God is great, God is good. And we thank him for this food. Amen.”
The words barely left Tati’s mouth before Ashley tugged her hand out of his, her cheeks a bright pink.
“We haven’t got any food to eat, Daddy.”
Michael gulped, told himself to get a grip. He rose, slid the lasagne from the oven and set it in the middle of the table.
“If you can reach the salad, Ashley, I’ll get the garlic bread.”
She placed the salad on the table, then smoothed her napkin in her lap. Michael passed her the bread, then began serving the lasagne.
“How did you go off the road?” he asked to break the silence.
“A truck was behind me. It was following too close so I edged over to let it pass. When it passed me it kicked up snow flurries and I lost sight of the road. By the time I realized I was off-kilter, the damage had already been done. I slid off.”
“A big red truck?” he asked. “Wheels high up off the ground?”
She nodded, wide eyes luminous. “How did you know?”
“Tommy Cliburn. He just got his license. For some reason his parents thought that truck would keep him safe.” Michael watched her pick at her food, noticed that the color in her cheeks had returned to its usual pale translucence. “You do realize that you can’t keep driving that car in the winter?”
“I’ll have to get snow tires.”
He shook his head. “It’s not the tires. The undercarriage isn’t built for these kinds of roads. Every drive from Piper’s down those switchback roads will be a nightmare—worse if it’s icy. You need something safer.”
&nb
sp; “I’ll be fine.”
Not wanting to belabor the subject, Michael changed the subject.
“You said you went to boarding school. Why?”
“My mother thought it would be a stabilizing influence.” She sipped her water. When she spoke again her voice had lost the quaver. “She hated winter in the Bay, so after Thanksgiving, she stayed with my grandparents in Hawaii. Since I would have had to change schools in the fall and spring, she thought boarding school would be a better option.”
“That must have been hard for you.”
“Actually it wasn’t. There was a very constant routine, I knew exactly what was happening from day to day, what to expect.” She shrugged. “I really liked it. Pip and Row were there, too, so that made it even better.”
Constant routine? The comment struck him as odd. “I’m afraid I don’t remember much about your father.”
“No, you wouldn’t. He traveled a lot with his job. We were always here for the Christmas holidays, though.” She plucked the soft center out of her bread just like his daughter did.
“Where’s Hawaii?” Tati asked.
“I’ll show you on the map after dinner,” he promised.
“What’s it like, Ashley?”
“It’s an island. It has water all around it and it’s lovely to swim in. They never get winter in Hawaii.” Ashley smiled as the child’s eyes grew. “I used to love playing on the beach.”
“I like beaches.” Tati reached out for her milk, hit the edge of the glass and knocked it over into Ashley’s plate, spattering droplets in an arc across her sweater and pants.
“I’m sorry.” Fat tears welled on Tati’s cheeks as the milk spread across the table and dripped onto the floor.
Sighing, Michael rose, fetched a damp cloth for Ashley. “Here,” he offered. Then he began to mop up the spill.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” Tati sobbed.