by Lisa Carter
Ryan loved her. She rubbed at the throbbing ache in her lower back. She couldn’t think of that now, of a future never meant to be.
The pain intensified. Had her emotional pain prevented her from appreciating the beautiful gift of Ryan’s love? A gift from God. Had she done the right thing in sending him away?
Cold air leaked through the glass pane. Wind gusts sent the flakes whirling. The snowfall had become a torrent of swirling white.
Her pulse ratcheted. Snow blanketed the grass, obscuring the driveway. But she was safely cocooned from the storm. Although... She examined the thermostat.
The interior temperature had dropped. How was that possible? She pressed the button to raise the temperature. But the number on the dial didn’t change. Frowning, she pressed harder. Nothing happened. She thumped the box on the wall.
With mounting concern, she headed toward the floor register near the sofa. Wincing, she got on her knees. She placed her hand over the vent, expecting a rush of air on her skin. Nothing.
Painfully, she heaved herself to a standing position. She’d put on more layers. And wait out the storm. Come morning, everything would be fine.
She’d taken two steps when a rush of oozing liquid seeped through her leggings. Anna stared at the puddle between her feet. Her water had broken. The lights on the tree blinked out, and the trailer went dark.
* * *
Ryan intended to go home. But he found himself driving toward town. Like most of Kiptohanock, his family would already be at the candlelight service.
Part of him wanted nothing more than to be alone. To find a place where he could give full vent to the anguish consuming him. But his wounded heart needed something else. He needed to wrap himself in the loving embrace of his heavenly Father.
He steered past the Coast Guard station, where he spotted Chief Scott’s truck. It was like Braeden Scott to pull Christmas Eve duty so others under his command could be with their families. Dark clouds scrolled across the watery horizon. He hoped the squall stayed out to sea.
If the storm took a more westerly course, emergency responders were in for a difficult night. Ice storms could knock out power, take down trees and result in multiple vehicular incidents.
He parked in the church parking lot as the first snowflake fell. Light glowed from inside the building. Organ music poured outside the walls of the white clapboard church.
Silent night, holy night. All is calm. All is bright.
Getting out of the car, he lifted his face. The floating snowflakes settled cold upon his cheeks. At last, a white Christmas.
Ryan yearned for God’s comforting peace. He felt so alone, so bereft. The encroaching storm winked out what remained of the stars overhead.
He inhaled, the cold stabbing his lungs. “Show me what to do, God. Show me how to live without Anna.”
Cries of childish delight erupted around him. Despite his heartache, he smiled at the antics of the children spilling out of the sanctuary. Tongues protruding, Max and Izzie strained to catch their first taste of snow. Others followed. Young and old. Arms extended to embrace the joy of snow, their faces exhilarated.
Laughing and shivering, Reverend Parks called his church family inside. Out of the dark. To rejoice together on this most glorious of nights.
Ryan tromped in with the rest. From the deep casement windows, thick white candles in hurricane lanterns flickered within the sanctuary. There was an air of luminous expectancy. He found solace in the words of the music flowing around him. Comfort in the company of family and friends.
O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie...
Seth’s gravelly bass boomed from the Duer row. Amelia and her brood. Caroline, her husband and Izzie. Sawyer with one arm draped around Honey, who held baby Daisy on her hip. His other arm around his long-lost sister, Evy. Love lost, love recovered.
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by...
The Colliers stood behind the Duers. Their son, Gray. With his rusty baritone, Canyon sang between Kristina and Jade. And bound by ties of love and friendship, Margaret Davenport.
As Ryan eased into the family pew, his mother’s forehead puckered. Somehow without being told, she always knew when one of her children hurt. He felt Tessa and Justine’s searching scrutiny. The music and the voices flowed around him. Yet in thy dark streets shineth, the everlasting light...
Across the aisle, Everett Pruitt appeared the picture of despondency. Gail Pruitt’s shoulders slumped. An empty space remained for Anna. But she wasn’t coming.
He met her brother’s dark eyes. He shook his head at Will’s unspoken query. The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.
Reverend Parks lit the first votive. Ryan fumbled in the pew rack for the small candle, encircled by a ring of cardboard to prevent hot waxy drips.
Seth and Everett stepped forward. Reverend Parks touched his flame to their wicks. Everett began with his own family. His wife lit Will’s. On the other side of the aisle, Seth lit Evy’s votive first. She passed the gift of light to Sawyer and so forth down the line.
In harmonious synchronization, the two elders worked their way from row to row. Pauline Crockett. Mr. Keller. The Evans family. Coastie families stationed in Kiptohanock. Dixie and Bernard. Ryan and his mother. Justine. Tessa. Ethan and Luke.
Until the final candle was lit, and everyone’s features shone in the glow of the candlelight. The darkness pushed back. Hope reborn.
A holy hush fell over the sanctuary. Reverend Parks read the Scripture passage from Luke chapter 2. Peace soaked deep into the core of Ryan’s being.
Beyond his own heartache, he ached for Anna’s self-imposed isolation. The immensity of the journey she was determined to undertake alone.
As an unsettling disquiet descended on Ryan, the outer doors of the church banged open. One of the children cried out. Everyone jolted as the fury of the wind whistled into the church.
In the fierce onslaught of the wind, Chief Braeden Scott struggled inside. “The storm took an unexpected detour. Forecasters are predicting heavy snow followed by dangerous ice.”
Reverend Parks took charge. “Driving will become hazardous. Everyone needs to get home as quickly as possible.”
The piercing wail of the fire siren punched through the roar of the wind. Evy looked up from her phone. “Charlie says Highway 13 is impassable in places. There are already lots of traffic accidents.”
Will stepped into the aisle. “I’m going to head across the square. Any trained volunteers will probably be helpful tonight.”
EMT-trained Luke shouldered his way past the others to follow Will into the snowstorm.
The congregants scattered. Chief Scott hugged his wife and returned to the station. Ryan and Ethan hustled the family outside. He gasped at the transformation. The night had become a hurricane of white. Snow blanketed the streets.
His mother grabbed his arm. “Leave your car. Ride home with us.”
But urgency frayed at the hard-won peace he’d attained inside the church. Across the square, the town’s lone ambulance became mired in a snowdrift. He exchanged a long look with Ethan, who possessed a rudimentary knowledge of first aid thanks to Uncle Sam.
Ethan tossed Ryan the car keys. “Make sure Mom and the girls get home.”
“I’ll leave my car for you and Luke.” Ryan touched his brother’s shoulder. “Be careful out there tonight. You’re not as indestructible as you’d like us to believe.”
His brother’s eyes clouded as they often did since returning home from his deployment. Ryan wasn’t the only walking wounded in the Savage clan.
Ethan nodded. “It’s going to be a long night.” Then he hastened through the snowstorm.
Parked next to the Scotts, Ryan helped Seth secure little Patrick into his car seat. Max scraped t
he windshield as Amelia cranked the engine to warm the vehicle.
His mother scrambled inside the Savage family’s SUV. His sisters got to work on the windshield. “We got this, Ryan,” Justine called.
“Papa Seth?” Patrick’s brow furrowed. “How’s Father ’hanock gonna find us in the storm?”
“Don’t you worry none ’bout him.” Seth clicked the final strap in place. “Every good father always finds those who belong to him.”
The girls ducked inside the SUV as Ryan wrenched open the driver side door. Every good father... He’d never have the privilege of being Ruby Reyes’s father. He started the car.
He glanced in his rearview mirror at the open bay of the fire station. With Luke behind the wheel, the other volunteers attempted to rock the immobilized emergency vehicle into forward motion.
Leaving town, it was all Ryan could do to keep the SUV from blowing off the road. With the yellow lines no longer visible, he relied on instinct and memory as they inched slowly homeward. Whiteout conditions prevailed. The windshield wipers hardly made a dent against the driving snow. He was thankful Anna hadn’t ventured out to the service.
On the snow-covered bridge spanning a tidal creek, the rear tires slipped. Tessa gasped from the back seat. He steered into the slide and fought the instinct to jerk the wheel. In the passenger seat, Justine grabbed hold of the dashboard.
Somehow the tires found traction. The car lurched forward onto solid ground. But bowed by heavy snow, tree branches snapped on both sides of the road, the sound like shotgun blasts. A thud shook the ground.
Tessa swiveled. “A tree’s fallen across the bridge. That could’ve been us.”
“Which means no one can get in or out of Kiptohanock until a crew clears the road.” His mother bit her lip. “We need to pray we make it home.”
He already was.
* * *
Anna didn’t panic—not too much anyway—when the lights went out. She’d probably been in labor at least twelve hours. She needed to deliver within twenty-four hours or risk infection. And the clock was ticking.
Despite the unusual circumstances of Ruby’s conception, hers wasn’t a high-risk pregnancy. At thirty-eight weeks, Ruby was well within the accepted timeframe for a healthy delivery. But Anna needed to get to the hospital and soon.
A contraction took her breath. She bent double, sweat breaking out on her forehead. If she hadn’t been so stubborn...she’d be with Ryan and her family at the candlelight service.
Only one bar glowed on her cell phone, eerily green in the darkness of the trailer. She’d forgotten to recharge it. Pain buckled her knees.
Gasping, she sank onto the mattress, the phone gripped in her clammy hand. She called 911, but no one picked up. She clicked off and tried again. Still no answer. Dispatch must be logjammed.
Praying she had enough power for one more call, she called her dad. No matter how angry or disappointed, her father had never let her down.
As the phone rang, she visualized the comforting warmth of her childhood home. The sturdy Victorian filled with light. The flames in the hearth. Her mother’s ham roasting in the oven. The images were so tangible, she pressed her lips together to keep from crying aloud.
“Please pick up... Where are— Hello? Dad, is that you?” But it was only voice mail. “I’m going to drive to the hospital, Dad. If you get this message, meet me—”
The phone blanked out. And with it, the last of the power drained away. She stared at the dead phone in her hand, unable—unwilling—to face the enormity of her aloneness.
No one was coming to rescue her.
She’d pushed everyone away. She’d demanded to be left alone. She was as alone as she’d ever been in her life. Stranded and in labor.
Pushing off the bed, she pulled on her red peacoat. She set her jaw. She’d do this like she’d done everything else. The fertility treatments. The multiple IVFs.
Buttoning her overcoat wasn’t an option, but she donned a knitted wool cap and gloves. She also wrapped a heavy wool muffler around her neck. Suitcase in hand, she opened the door and stepped into a maelstrom of ice pellets. The wind snatched the door from her grasp and banged against the interior wall.
Setting the suitcase on the steps, she wrested the door closed. The steps were slick and treacherous. The wind buffeted her as she clung to the railing Ryan had installed. Ice shards stung her eyes and cheeks. She buried her face inside the scarf.
The ground crunched beneath her boots. Not a good sign. Too many small bridges spanned the tidal marshes between her reaching help. And bridges iced first.
Her heart beating like a drum, she tensed as another contraction seized her midsection. Squeezing. Crushing. Robbing her of coherent thought until the pain subsided.
Jamming the key into the ignition, she cranked the engine. But the motor only coughed.
“This cannot be happening.” She turned the key again. “Please, please...”
She held her breath. The engine sputtered but caught. Shifting into gear, she inched down the driveway. The wipers beat a losing fight to keep pace with the whirlwind of sleet.
“Come on...come on...” she coaxed the Volkswagen. “Don’t give up on me now. We’ve come too far together, old friend.”
The front tires spun. She pressed the accelerator to the floor and gunned the engine. The car surged onto the main road. But the headlights provided only the smallest amount of visibility.
Pain began low in her loins and spread upward. Stealing her breath. Making her legs wobbly. Her senses swam.
Was it her imagination? Or had the force of the wind abated somewhat? The Volkswagen no longer rocked. She crept forward, pushing the odometer as fast as she dared.
Ice stopped pelting the windshield. She took courage as the vehicle passed over the first bridge. She strained forward against the steering wheel as if by sheer force of will, she could speed the little car on its way.
As she approached the next bridge, how she wished Ryan was with her. She was so tired of battling alone.
Why had she said those horrible, untrue things to him? She loved him. Part of her had always loved him, as a best friend. Until without realizing it, her feelings for him had grown into so much more.
Anna wanted to feel his arms around her again. As soon as Ruby was born, she’d find Ryan and beg for his forgiveness. She’d plead for him to give her another chance. She just wanted to be wherever Ryan would be happy—North Carolina or home in Kiptohanock. Whichever made him happy.
She started to exhale as the front tires safely exited the slippery surface of the bridge. Then, the rear end of the car fishtailed. Instinctively, she removed her foot from the accelerator and fought to control the wheel. But it was already too late.
* * *
Ryan breathed a sigh of relief as he rounded the bend toward the farmhouse at the end of the lane.
Every good father... His father had been the best. Ryan’s hero.
His mother and sisters struggled into the house. He headed to the barn to check on the backup generator. The familiar, comforting scent of hay, horse and leather tickled his nostrils.
But his heart remained troubled. Something wasn’t right. He didn’t know what exactly. The phone in his pocket buzzed. Stamping his boots free of snow, he took out his phone and glanced at the display. Pruitt, E.
Why would Everett Pruitt call him? He wasn’t exactly on Pruitt’s list of favorite people.
Every good father... He frowned. He wasn’t anybody’s father. Nor likely ever to be.
“What?” he growled into the phone.
A beat of silence.
“Is that you, Ryan?” Everett Pruitt cleared his gruff voice. “I’m sorry to bother you on a night like this...but it’s Anna.”
Sudden fear seized his heart. “What about Anna?”
/> “I turned on my cell when I got home, and there was a message from her. She’s in labor and driving to the hospital. The call dropped. I dialed her number, but I couldn’t get a signal.”
Ryan’s heart thudded. “She shouldn’t drive. The roads are terrible.” He scrubbed his forehead. “And the bridge out of town is impassable. The ambulance can’t come to her. What about 911?”
“Dispatch has been overwhelmed with folks caught in the snow squall.” Everett sighed. “I messaged Charlie to go the long way around from the other side. But there’s a tangle of accidents clogging the highway. Fallen trees and power lines are lying everywhere. It’s going to take him a while to get there.”
If even then... And Anna was out there, isolated and alone.
“This is my fault.” The unflappable former lawman’s voice broke.
Ryan clutched the phone. “I shouldn’t have left her this afternoon. No matter what she said.”
“If anything happens to my girl, I’ll never forgive myself.” Everett took a ragged breath. “I’m not used to doing nothing. I don’t know how to help her.”
Ryan’s throat constricted. She must be so frightened. What would happen to Ruby? Would anyone be able to get there before it was too late?
Tessa’s horse, Franklin, pawed the stall. And Ryan had an idea. A desperate, last-ditch idea.
“Mr. Pruitt? I might know a way.” He gripped the phone in his hand. The best way—perhaps the only way—to reach Anna.
Every good father...
“I’m taking the sleigh to look for her.” He pressed the cell to his ear. “Have the Kiptohanock EMTs waiting for us. But no matter what, I promise I’ll bring Anna home to you, Mr. Pruitt.”
As Ryan ended the call, he prayed as he never had before.
Chapter Nineteen
The VW careened toward the bridge railing. Anna clawed at the wheel. With a sickening jolt, metal impacted metal. She screamed.
Ricocheting, the car plummeted down the embankment. In a cacophony of horrific screeching noises, the Volkswagen skidded toward the black water before settling with a final crashing shudder.