The Soul of a Storme

by SOOKOO, SANDRA

  “As soon as I get her to safety, I’ll come back for you, my lady,” the driver assured her.

  “I understand.” Yet her heartbeat raced as fear chilled the blood in her veins.

  How long would that be? At the rate water filled the coach’s interior, they’d have perhaps minutes before the current swept it downstream. Not wanting to wait, Sarah grabbed onto the bench above and stood on the edge of hers. She felt for the edge of the doorway, and when she was sure she’d found good enough purchase with her gloved fingers, she jumped upward, braced herself on her arms while her legs dangled in the opening. Then she hooked a leg on the doorframe and hauled her body up and out of the coach’s interior.

  Heavy rain battered her, plastering her clothing to her body. The water-soaked skirts weighed her down, the cloak was unwieldy, but she struggled to her feet on the side of the coach. Not far away on the bank, one of the drivers lay in the muddy grass. The second driver had reached his side, where he bid Tilly to sit. Both horses were attached to their harnesses, but alive as they stood in the rushing torrent.

  When the driver saw her, he hastened down the bank and waded out into the coursing creek, using the coach wheels and under equipage to remain upright. “Let me help you down,” he called up to her. “It’s treacherous, so don’t let go until your feet are firmly planted on the creek bottom.”

  “All right.” She dropped to all fours on the side of the coach and slowly crawled to the edge near him. Then she dangled her legs over. The driver lifted an arm. “Should I slide down?”

  “Real quick like. I’ll grab onto you.”

  With her stomach in knots, Sarah slid off the side of the coach. When she went to grasp the driver’s hand, her frivolous shoes slipped on the rocks and mud, and with a scream, she was torn from his fingers. The current caught at her clothes and shoved her against the underside of the vehicle. She clung to the far wheel as water gushed into her face.

  “Hang on, my lady!”

  “As if I could do anything else.” I was so terribly wrong! She should have stayed home, should have been grateful for all that she had, regardless that she didn’t have Andrew’s love, and most of all, she should have told him how she felt. Then, her stomach pitched. “My flute. I need to retrieve my flute.” Despite the driver’s warnings, she placed a foot on one of the wheel’s spokes and began to climb.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Drew left London a little over three days ago. The weather had been fair in the capital and for most of his journey, but they’d headed into heavy rain with just under three hours until they would reach Derbyshire. With nothing else to do except be alone with his thoughts, he’d willed himself to relax as he reclined on one of the benches, while Barton lounged on the other.

  Sleep wouldn’t come, for despite the need to arrive home, a sense of renewal and peace coursed through him. After reading that letter from his father, everything in his life had turned on its head. The whole of his thoughts had changed direction. Knowing that his father had struggled with the same issues that Drew did took his anxiety by a stranglehold. No longer did he think these problems he dealt with were unique to his situation.

  Every peer went through the same.

  The clarification that he needn’t be solely responsible for the lives of his brothers had taken considerable pressure off his shoulders. Why couldn’t he see it earlier when Sarah had spoken to him? It didn’t matter, for it was there now, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how much of a difference those written words had made.

  Father was proud of me the whole time, but because he’d never been taught to show his emotions, he couldn’t tell me.

  He continued to marvel at the knowledge. Even more stunning was the fact that Finn would come out all right—without his help or his orders. Somehow, his brother had found the secret to living a somewhat balanced life—he hoped—which meant Drew needn’t feel anxious regarding the future.

  No doubt Brand would discover the same, for at the heart of the matter, they three were Stormes, and like their namesakes, they didn’t back down in the face of adversity. Both his brothers would find their way without his inept interference. And if fate were kind, all three of them would stumble upon happiness and peace.

  After everything.

  Another piece of anxiety’s shell fell away from around his heart and chest. And if he were to follow in his father’s footsteps, he would risk ruining the best thing that had ever happened to him. His pulse thrummed faster at the thought of his wife. She’d been there all along, waiting for him to make the realization for himself, supporting him as he’d struggled, guiding him away from everything he’d designed to hold him back. She’d stared into his soul, past all the ugliness, and found him worthy all the same.

  And he couldn’t wait to tell her—show her—how much she meant, how he was changing even now, bit by bit.

  The shadows of the waterlogged twilight were beginning to give way to the inky darkness of the night. He nearly pitched to the floor when his traveling coach came to an abrupt halt. Would the rain never end?

  “What the devil is going on?”

  Barton picked himself off the floor and resettled onto his bench. “I’m not certain.”

  The faint rumble of his drivers’ voices reached his ears, but he couldn’t discern the gist of the conversation. After throwing open a door, he turned up the collar of his greatcoat and vaulted out of the equipage. “Haines, what the deuce is the issue?” He made his way toward the driver’s box and the horses with Barton following. The rain pelted him, and he realized he’d left his hat inside the coach. Well, it wouldn’t do to retrieve it now.

  “Looks like the bridge is washed out and the road ahead flooded.” The man came down from the driver’s perch. “Not unusual for this area. I’ve seen it happen a few years ago.”

  A shout from the second driver caught Drew’s attention. “There’s a coach on its side in the creek up the way! I can see it through the trees when I stand.” He pointed off into the distance.

  Drew looked into the direction but couldn’t see anything form his vantage point. “Damn this delay,” he grumbled into the rain. “How many miles to the next bridge?”

  The grizzled Haines shrugged. “Might be four if the other bridge is washed out too.”

  “That’s too much time.” Drew shoved a gloved hand through his dripping hair. He wanted to reach Hadleigh Hall as soon as possible, had to beg Sarah’s forgiveness, needed to tell her—

  A faint feminine scream broke through his thoughts.

  Bloody hell. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  His valet nodded. “Almost is reminiscent of the countess’ voice.”

  “Surely not, Mr. Barton,” the driver said. “She’s safe at home.”

  I’ll wager she’s not. Guilt plowed into the worry building in Drew’s chest. No doubt she’d got it into her head that he was too much of an arse to change, and she’d decided to leave him. After she promised not to. He wanted to summon anger, but for the first time in a handful of years, that emotion wasn’t available to tap into. Only cold depression slithered through his insides, for if it were true, he’d done it to himself. I deserve her retreat.

  “The one way to know for certain is to investigate. Haines, Barton, you’re with me. William, take our coach to where the other is disabled. Even if it’s not my wife, the occupants in that vehicle will need aide.”

  Barton snorted. “When have you become so benevolent?”

  I’ve stumbled upon a new perspective. “It’s something new I’m trying.”

  Not waiting to see if they both agreed to the plan, Drew bolted forward off the road. His boot soles slipped and slid over the muddy ground as he followed the swollen creek through the trees. With every footfall, his heart beat in double time. Had she truly left him? Did she not believe in him? He huffed and wiped at the rain on his face. Hell, for years he hadn’t believed in himself. She’d only known him for a month, and for that, he couldn’t blame her.

  But
he wanted the chance to show her he was a different man. Or trying to be.

  When the dark body of the tipped coach appeared, half submerged in the flood waters, his stomach dropped. A glance through the rain revealed one of Hadleigh Hall’s drivers lying on the opposite bank while Sarah’s young maid stood nearby, her arms wrapped around herself, the picture of a bedraggled rat. The other driver had waded into the water to unharness the horses.

  Where the devil was his wife?

  “Sarah!” He approached the bank and then hollered at the driver. “Archie, where’s the countess?”

  The man jerked his head up, squinted in the rain. “Thank God you’re here, my lord.” He wiped at the water on his face. “Her Lordship went back inside the coach to retrieve a flute, she said.” The rain almost drowned out his explanation. “I tried to talk her out of it, but she was near hysterical about finding it.”

  “And she stubbornly argued against common sense, all for the flute.” Which represented her dreams and was the last item she had that her father had given her. Oh, Sarah. Drew held up a hand. “I understand.” When he ran his gaze over the waterlogged coach, a flash of movement caught his attention. As he stared, dumbfounded, his wife slowly appeared, pulling herself up through the door until she perched on the side, her stocking-clad legs fully on display, the leather handle of her flute case clenched firmly between her teeth. “Sarah!”

  She wrenched her head around at his call. After removing the case’s handle from her mouth, she stared. “Andrew!”

  Was it his imagination or did the driving rain play tricks on him, for he thought he saw a wide grin split her lips? Surely a woman in a snit with him wouldn’t do such a thing if she unexpectedly came upon her absent husband. “What the deuce are you doing? Come down from there.” He glanced at his valet, who shrugged.

  “I had to find my flute.” She glanced between him and the bank where her maid waited. “I can’t climb down with it, though.”

  Foolish, adorable thing. Didn’t she realize that she was more valuable than anything else? “Toss it to me then.”

  “You’ll catch it, right?” Sarah clutched the instrument case to her chest as if it were a child. If they came out of this thing alive with their marriage intact, he would move heaven and earth to make her dreams of being a professional musician come true.

  “Yes, of course, but Archie, Barton, and I can’t attempt to rescue you unless you have full use of both your hands.” He looked to the driver. Both horses were freed, and as soon as Drew’s coach pulled into view far down the road, the horses splashed and struggled out of the creek to greet them.

  “Very well.” Her hair lay plastered to her skull, and her drenched skirts clung to her person. “Here it comes!”

  As far as throws went, it wasn’t the best, but as the case tumbled tip over tail in a low arc toward him, Drew launched himself and caught it like he used to do with balls his brothers threw in their childhood. When Archie climbed out of the creek and moved to his location, Drew thrust the case into his hands. “Look after this with your life, for if it’s lost, I’ll direct the countess’ wrath to you.”

  “I’ll be careful.” Archie walked toward the oncoming coach.

  “I’m coming down.” The sound of Sarah’s voice had him jerking around to face the tipped coach once more.

  “Wait!” But when had she ever followed instructions he’d issued? As he watched with horrified fascination, she flipped onto her belly while her legs dangled over the side of the vehicle. Then she slid down, hanging onto the edge of the coach with her gloved hands. In an attempt to find purchase on the rear wheel, her hand slipped.

  A scream was ripped from her while Drew’s heart lodged in his throat. She fell into the water, going under briefly, but her head surfaced, and she clung to the wheel. “Andrew!”

  “Bloody hell.” Icy fear rooted his feet to the spot for the span of a few heartbeats.

  “I’ll go, my lord,” Barton said, already moving toward the bank.

  “No. If you must help, take one of the horses and ride of Hadleigh Hall, alert them to the situation so they’ll be ready when the rest of us arrive.”

  “You’re sure?” Barton narrowed his eyes.

  “Yes. I must do this.” He waved a hand.

  “Very well. Best of luck.” Then the man was off.

  Drew turned his attention back to his wife. “I can’t lose you, Sarah,” he whispered. They hadn’t had enough time together; he’d only just realized how much she meant to him. The current rushed against her as she held onto the wheel, and the gathering darkness coupled with the rain made it deuced difficult to analyze the scene clearly.

  “If I could gain a foothold,” she shouted, and broke the horrid spell he’d fallen under.

  “Don’t move.” Willing himself into motion, Drew approached the edge of the creekbank, conscious of the muddy conditions. “I’m coming in for you.”

  “Be careful. It’s dangerous.” Water droplets obscured the lenses of her spectacles, and he doubted that she could see him all that well.

  His heart squeezed. In the midst of her own peril, she worried about his safety. “Hold on.” Testing the integrity of the bank, Drew gingerly climbed down but was soon in the rapidly moving swollen creek. Christ, that’s cold. Then he shoved the thought away and concentrated on grabbing the wheel nearest to him. He sank further into the water, and it rushed hard at the center of his chest. Five feet of churning, moving, muddy creek separated him from her, but at the moment it might have been five miles. This operation required delicacy and patience—both of which he didn’t have. Cold fear kept him company as he moved his hand, inch by slow inch, over the wheel, clinging to the wooden spokes. He extended an arm, merely to see if he could touch her.

  Almost, but not quite.

  “Give me your hand, slowly.” The drum of the steady rain filled his ears, and he was deuced tired of the constant moisture in his eyes, but there was nothing for it.

  She clutched the front wheel with her right hand and reached out toward him with her left. A foot of churning water lay between her and him. “I think if I let go, I could swim over.”

  “No! The water is moving too fast and I have more weight on me. I’ll come to you.”

  “Let me…” She released the wheel and promptly disappeared beneath the raging dirty water.

  “Oh, God.” Drew’s heart stopped. “Sarah!” His fingers cramped, so tightly did he hold onto the wheel. When her head broke the surface, he blew out a breath of relief. Once more she clung to the far wheel, her body plastered to it as she shivered. The dark green of her wet cloak blended with the muddy water. If it weren’t for the glint of her golden hair, he’d have issue pinpointing her location.

  “The current is too strong and the creek bottom too slippery.” She adjusted her spectacles and set them to rights once more. “This is impossible.”

  “No, we merely need to find a different way.”

  “My lord, do you wish us to come in and help?” one of the drivers of his coach yelled over.

  He glanced over his shoulder and spat out foul water from his mouth. “No need for us all to land in the drink. I’ll have the countess out soon enough, but perhaps you can make certain there’s a blanket available for her.”

  “At once.”

  When Drew regarded Sarah once more, a hint of anger sliced through him so quick he couldn’t recall it. “Why the devil did you break your promise to me? You said you wouldn’t leave me, yet here we are.”

  She snorted, ended up inhaling water and then coughed until it had cleared her airway. “You’re choosing right now to take me to task?”

  “It’s not like you can storm away.” He shook his head.

  “We both seem to have a problem with running from our challenges.”

  Oh, he adored her, for she didn’t try to hide her flaws. “You’re right.”

  “You can vent your spleen at me once we’re on safe ground.”

  “No, I mean you were right.” No
w was as good a time as any to bare his soul. “About everything. My being an arse. Finn not needing me underfoot. All of it.” It was humbling to admit, but he couldn’t wait to tell her everything that had transpired while away.

  “For the love of God, Andrew. Let’s get out of the water before we begin a discussion.” Threads of annoyance cut through her voice.

  What the devil had she to be irritated about? “Fine. I merely thought you might like to know.” Once more he extended his arm. “Stretch out as far as you can and take my hand.”

  When she did as he asked, a strangled scream escaped, and she ducked partially beneath the surging water. As she regained her footing, she clung to her wheel. “I can’t do this. The water is too strong, and I was never a good swimmer.”

  “There’s no other way.”

  Her eyes were wide and clouded with fear as she shook her head. “I’m afraid.” The sound of the rain ate up the whispered admission, but that tiny waver in her tone tore at his heart.

  Perhaps everyone was indeed frightened as they went about life, and it was a matter of fortitude how they overcame it.

  “So am I.” That was the crux of his problems. Deep down he finally acknowledged it. Fear was the thing keeping him back, making sure other emotions held him down like a bully. Well, no more. “Everything I want—we want—lays on the other side of that fear, so please. You have to help me to get you to safety.” Drew’s pulse pounded hard through his veins. He extended his arm, his eyes locked onto hers. “Give me your hand. Let go of that wheel in faith and know that I will catch you. Always.”

  Archie and the other drivers stood on the bank waiting to haul him and Sarah up if they could but reach them.

  Seconds went by as his muscles tightened from strain and exposure. “Sarah, now!”

  “All right.” She threw out an arm. Water rushed into her face, and she coughed against it. Their fingertips brushed. The creek surged and wrenched her hand from his.