Beyond the Storm (9780758276995) Read online

  “Roger that,” replied the woman. “I’m coming. Are you hurt?”

  Again, the question begged at him. Was he? Aside from the burning sensation on his side, the bleeding, dribbling cut on his forehead, he appeared none the worse for wear. No back pain, no broken limbs. “I guess I’m okay. I think. Some blood and aches . . . just help me get out of this damn car . . .”

  “I’m here,” he heard next, realizing the voice was so clear, cutting through the rain and the clouds and the muck and the twisted metal of his Malibu. How close was his savior, her voice golden like sunshine, or so he imagined. Adam looked up and blinked away raindrops and there she was, a wet, muddied, but striking vision looming out of the shadows, looking down at him through the broken driver’s side window. All that was missing was a halo of sunshine, but of course on a day like this, such heavenly apparitions weren’t in the cards.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” she said back.

  Adam watched as a strange look gathered on the woman’s face. His mind searched for the right word to describe just what she might be processing, and in the end his own scrambled brain settled on the word incredulous. The way she looked at him. It was like she knew him. But how was that possible . . . no one in Danton Hill was even expecting him, he’d even replied “maybe” to the reunion e-mail. Commitment with an out clause.

  “Adam?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re Adam Blackburn.”

  This was the second time he heard his name spoken aloud, and it was not said in the form of a question. She stated it as fact.

  How unreal was this, his savior knowing him? En route to his twentieth high school reunion in a town he’d barely called home for all these years, and now, just miles from his destination his rescuer not only knew him and somehow recognized him, but seemed to carry a look of disbelief about the strange coincidence herself. Which meant, deep down inside him, in a place he seldom allowed himself to venture, he knew exactly who this was.

  “Oh my God,” he breathed, the air escaping his lungs perhaps from injury, perhaps from the onset of shock. Or perhaps this lovely creature that was staring down at him with wide, green eyes had simply taken his breath away, just like it happened on the soundstages in the Hollywood dream factory. This wasn’t the movies, though, there was no director to call cut, this was real life and despite how much it hurt, he could do only one thing: laugh. He felt a burning in his chest hurt, then coughed up rainwater. Still, he continued to laugh anyway, and when his body ceased its convulsions, Adam smiled slyly up at the woman he’d come all this way to see.

  “So, some reunion, huh, Vanessa?”

  “You could say that again,” Vanessa Massey replied, staring down at the man she’d come to see, ignoring the rain that washed down around her.

  “I would, but I think it would hurt more,” he said, a coughing fit erupting the moment his laughter had subsided.

  “Ooh, that doesn’t sound good. Come on, let’s get you out of there.”

  “Gee, you think?”

  “I don’t remember sarcasm being part of your repertoire.”

  “You didn’t know me that well.”

  Vanessa decided a response to such a pointed remark would be counterproductive to their current situation. She knew it was important to get Adam free from the wrecked car. Still, this moment in time gave her pause. She marveled at life, at its unlikely twists and its devilish turns, not unlike the winding road she had just traveled. It was one filled with unexpected encounters. Of zooming sports cars, towering stalks of corn, that lone farmhouse up on a hill, and a fleeting memory of a man who had inadvertently changed the direction of her life all in one night. Those were the flickering images her mind had seen, and as it turned out they were as real as the accident. Because what were the odds that both of them had decided to return for the reunion, heading for Danton Hill at the very same time, crashing their cars into each other?

  An explosive reunion indeed, more than she could have envisioned.

  “Hey, Vanessa, a little help?”

  “Oh right, sorry.”

  Caught daydreaming again, allowing her mind to wander down paths long covered by the hazy overgrowth of many yesterdays. Adam needed her assistance. Wiping rain away from her face, Vanessa reasserted her hold on the vehicle, her feet planted on the overturned tires, hoping to gain traction. She instructed Adam to try and push the door again; meanwhile she grabbed at the outside handle, and together they worked the door open, the sharp cry of metal screeching as the hinges separated from damaged locks drowning out all noises. Finally, the driver’s door thrust wide open, nearly causing Vanessa to lose her fragile footing and fall six feet into a muddy puddle. Not that she didn’t already look her worst after the accident and the drenching she’d received from the incessant rain, but hey, you meet up with a guy from high school you’d once danced with at the prom while colored lights circled around you and suddenly you’re America’s Top Klutz, two left feet. She somehow managed to hold on and found herself suddenly presented with his hand, strong yet craving a true connection. What would this first touch be like? Would it send electric tingles through her body, or would she feel . . . nothing?

  “Uh, Vanessa, can you focus please?”

  “Right, sorry, where’s my head?”

  As their hands clasped, she found Adam looking straight into her green eyes. He paused, seemingly to take a moment to search for the appropriate words in this situation. “Vanessa, are sure you’re okay? I mean, is it safe to assume you were driving the other car?” When she didn’t respond, he knew it to be true. “Anything hurt, any bruises? Another one traveling with you?”

  “Thanks, no, I’m fine, surprisingly okay. And I’m alone,” she said, “and just a bit shaken by the impact. Good thing for seat belts and air bags. The cornfields broke my fall. Now, come on, let’s get us both off this car.”

  He emerged onto the top of the car with an assist from Vanessa, and there the two of them stood, seemingly on top of the world, or at the very least towering over the fully grown cornstalks. Beyond them in the near distance, the waves of the lake crashed against the shore, churning from the passing storm and eating away at the banks. For them, though, looking down at the ground, they realized the best way down, really their only option, was to jump. Vanessa insisted on going first, since they couldn’t be sure how well his legs would hold up. So, as she leaped into the air and splashed down into a thickening puddle, muddy water further ruining her clothing, she positioned herself best to catch him. Well, not catch him completely, just kind of help to break his fall. It was obvious he wasn’t the puny little kid from school anymore.

  “Here goes nothing,” he said, taking a leap into the air.

  “Adam . . . no! Wait, I’m not ready . . .” Vanessa exclaimed, still trying to secure her footing. The mud sloshed around her ankle, causing her to slide. He was going to land right on top of her, and his weight would . . .

  A second later Adam landed awkwardly in her arms, twisting his ankle and crying out in pain. Vanessa had trouble holding on to him, and with the slippery ground there was going to be only one result. They were going down. And they did, in a big wet splash. Mud swirled around them, instantly coating them in a brown mush. Neither one of them spoke a word as they just absorbed the impact of the ground, the slushy feeling of the mud, wetness and cold enveloping them. God, they must look a frightful sight. Vanessa had envisioned various ways she’d meet up with Adam this weekend, and this certainly wouldn’t have made the Top Ten list. Not even the top hundred, if she wanted to be honest.

  Being honest, now there was a scary notion, even while in his strong arms. Her encounter with Adam had come far sooner than she’d expected, and without warning. Like this was no accident, the fates having their brand of fun instead. As she and her high school prom date sat in the mud twenty years after the event, each staring at the other, she found that words would not come. Wiping brown muck away from her face, she supposed it was a goo
d thing she couldn’t talk. She might actually end up literally eating her muddied words.

  “So, fancy meeting you here,” Adam said, finally breaking the silence.

  “Yeah, funny, huh?”

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

  “A filthy mess. But yeah, I think so.”

  He nodded.

  She stared at him.

  Awkward silence fell between them. Vanessa looked away out of nervousness, and then stole a glance back. His eyes hadn’t moved from their position, a hint of blue against a gray sky.

  “What?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, I mean . . . you look great.”

  Vanessa laughed aloud. “Oh yes, covered in mud, looking like a drowned rat. Brown is so my color. Just how I want to appear at my high school reunion.”

  “Yes, well, you’re not alone there.”

  “True, you’re kind of disgusting too. But hey, at least . . . you know, we’re alive.”

  Adam was getting ready to respond when the sky spoke for him. Thunder rumbled again, fierce and loud, dark clouds settling directly over them as a new band of the relentless storm sought them out. Lightning struck again, streaking the low-hanging sky with angry flashes of blazing yellow. They both stared upward.

  “Think help is on the way?”

  Vanessa looked around at their mangled cars. In the encroaching darkness they were not easy to make out, and soon the stalks would claim them for the long night. Other than that, there was no sign of other people, no passing traffic, no sirens blaring in the near distance.

  “Doesn’t look like it. You wanna call nine-one-one?”

  “I’m not sure where my cell phone went,” he said. “Got thrown when the car overturned. Yours?”

  She shook her head. “Not working. The plastic shell shattered in the crash.”

  “Convenient,” he said, sarcastically. “Seems as though we’re in quite the pickle, and with no one around to help us, looks like we’re gonna have to figure something out alone, uh, together,” he said. “Got any brilliant thoughts? Any idea what people did before we became slaves to our cell phones? We should probably seek some shelter. I’d say your car or mine, but we know that mine is rather uninhabitable at the moment.”

  “Come on, let’s see what we can salvage from mine.”

  Somehow she managed to get up from the slippery puddle, then helped Adam to his feet. He hobbled along beside her, wincing still from the pain of his freshly injured ankle. She hoped he hadn’t broken it during his landing, she wasn’t sure she could carry him, much less balance his weight against her body. The insistent rain continued to fall on them, and the threatening dual presence of lightning and thunder continued; this was the most persistent summer thunderstorm she could remember. Shouldn’t it have passed by now?

  The two of them made their way across the road to Vanessa’s car, inconveniently parked in the cornfield. Mud swirled around the tires; it was clear the car was going nowhere without the assistance of a tow truck. And she rather doubted one would magically appear, not when they’d seen no sign of an ambulance or police or any kind of Good Samaritan. For the moment, the world was theirs, the two of them doing battle against the elements.

  “I suppose we could wait out the storm in my car,” she said, “making more of a mess of it than I’ve already accomplished.”

  “Not much choice. We need shelter.”

  “But we also need to get out of these clothes . . .”

  Adam grinned. “Why, Vanessa Massey . . .”

  She blanched. She couldn’t help it. No reminders, not this early.

  “Sorry,” he said. “That was inappropriate.”

  An attempt at a brush-off laugh, Vanessa said, “Get your mind out of the—”

  “Mud?”

  They shared a genuine laugh, awkwardness fading between them for the first time. It felt good, like a breath of fresh air.

  Still, Vanessa suddenly looked away, embarrassed by the heated, sexual connotation of not only what she’d said but also Adam’s quick reaction to it. Were her cheeks reddening? Could he feel a change in the air, in her? God she hated her lack of a poker face. Reva was always calling attention to it on those occasions when they gambled, either in the casinos of Europe or in the love department. She felt like Adam could read her mind right now, and that was not a good thing. Not now. Perhaps not ever.

  “Really, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean . . . it’s just . . . I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “It’s okay, Adam. You just caught me by surprise. I mean, given our past . . .”

  “Vanessa, forget I said anything,” he said, making an attempt to touch her shoulder but pulling back at the last moment. The sweet gesture was intended to comfort her, and Vanessa decided to make nothing more of it than that. Adam didn’t give her the chance anyway. He was ready to spring into action, his ankle notwithstanding. “Come on, let’s focus on here and now, getting us out of this storm and into some dry clothes. I could go back and get my suitcase . . .”

  “Wait a minute,” she said. “The farmhouse!”

  “Okay, you got me there. What farmhouse?”

  “About half a mile back, I noticed an old farmhouse situated up on the hill. A big house with a porch, a swing, expansive lawn. We can make it there, I’m sure, and ask the people who live there for help. Surely they have a phone. Not like it’s the eighteenth century. What do you say, your ankle up for a quick hike?”

  Thunder rumbled once more.

  Adam looked up; rain washed over his muddy, bloodied face, leaving streaks.

  “I hate thunderstorms.”

  “Storms always did me in too,” Vanessa said.

  “Every summer in Danton Hill,” he said.

  “Almost like every day during a Danton Hill summer.”

  Their shared memories had already begun.

  “One storm ruined my swing set. I was five.”

  “You’ve changed.”

  “God, I hope so.”

  “That farmhouse, it had a porch swing, I saw it, moving in the breeze.”

  “Lead on,” he said. He smiled and she attempted one back.

  The two of them started forward down the stretch of road, sticking to the shoulder for safety’s sake but looking for any sign of a passing car. They walked side by side, not touching, not even attempting one . . . at least, not until she slipped on a rock and nearly fell in the ditch beside the road. Adam went to grab her. As their hands touched, she felt the spark between them give deeper heat to the humid night. She looked into his face and realized she was not in the company of the innocent young boy from her high school days but a handsome, strong man who produced within her something that had gone untouched for years. Almost a reawakening of something hidden deep inside her. Like she wasn’t even the woman she’d known these thirty-eight years. She felt a fleeting rush of emotion that had once existed between them flare up inside her, making a sudden return, and with such a sensation racking her body, she figured such heat could dry their clothes and possibly melt her heart too.

  Don’t get ahead of yourself.

  He doesn’t know everything. She wondered if he knew anything, about them.

  They forged on, together.

  Shelter awaited them just around the bend in the road. So too did the unforeseen.

  But hadn’t she lived with a notion of uncertainty for twenty years?

  CHAPTER 4

  NOW

  The farmhouse, with its wraparound porch and Old World–style cupola jutting up from its angled roof, turned out to be nearly a mile from the crash site. By the time Adam and Vanessa had made their way to the protective covering of its gabled porch, few words existed to describe just how soaked to the skin they were. Their clothing resembling mere tatters of cloth now, soggy, muddy, and wearable never again. For Adam, he was never more grateful to see shelter, something he’d never even given any consideration. He’d always had a roof over his head. He kept an apartment in a high-rise steel building
in Manhattan, and currently still owned a summer home in the rolling mountains of the Catskills. Life had been kind to him and he’d tucked away a good amount of money, which had allowed him to take full advantage of every chance afforded him. The idea of being caught without a place to stay or to keep him protected, without any way of communicating with the outside world, seemed positively barbaric. Add to this his balky ankle and Adam Blackburn suddenly found himself being thankful for the little things in life.

  “Here we are, at last,” he said, dropping to the porch steps from exhaustion. “Thank God we made it. I wasn’t sure how much longer my ankle could hold out.”

  “I was beginning to think I might have to carry you on my back,” Vanessa said, suppressing a rare smile. Not that they’d had much reason for them given their situation. “Rest your weary self, I’ll knock and see if anyone’s home. Though from the looks of the uncut lawn and the empty driveway, I’m not sure anyone has called this place home for a while.”

  “Gee, great. What more could go wrong?”

  Adam gazed around. No cars in the driveway, the grass overgrown, the slats of the porch in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint. The porch swing was the only evidence that someone called this place home, its gentle rocking in the wind a tease of life recently lived. Vanessa was right, they may have just stumbled upon a place that could offer covering but little else in the way of amenities. No clothes, no food or beverages . . . that probably meant no working phone or electricity. Like the fates of fortune continued to fail them. Still, it felt good to not have the incessant rain pelting down on them like a continuous form of Chinese water torture.

  As Vanessa made her way to the front entrance, Adam untied his shoe and freed his foot. Rubbing his ankle, he noticed just how swollen it was. He moved it around a bit, grimaced again from the shooting pain. It wasn’t broken, that was his sense, otherwise how could he have made it this far? He’d only had to lean on Vanessa a short while until he’d felt he could put his weight on it again. He wondered: How was it that during their thirty-minute walk through the storm en route to this deserted farmhouse they hadn’t come upon another living soul, not a single car or a wayward individual out for a walk during nature’s wrath? Not even a barking dog. The world, as far as they were concerned, had gone quiet.