Four more miles. In this storm, she might get lost or stuck in the snow if she tried going out to Grammy’s house along the dark country roads. Maybe she’d get a cheap motel room after all, just for tonight. She’d drive out to Grammy’s place in the morning, once the snowplows had time to do their work. The house hadn’t been occupied since Grammy died. It had a solid roof, but Rachel figured the place would need a thorough cleaning.
As she entered the outskirts of town, several small billboards appeared on her right, listing various services, clubs and churches in the community. Through the falling snow, Rachel couldn’t make out any names. Again, she rubbed at the windshield to clear a spot to see, longing for friends. Wanting to belong. Maybe she could get involved in her new community.
Driving down Main Street, she scanned the dim lights of the bank, diner and drugstore. Everything closed. Good thing they’d stopped earlier for a hamburger and fries in Eureka. The haze of streetlights gleamed eerily in the falling snow, not another soul in sight.
Just ahead, she made out the large yellow sign of a Best Homestyle motel; the only one in town. Clean and inexpensive. Relief flooded her fatigued body. Sleep seemed a treasured dream about to become a reality.
The windshield wipers stopped dead in midswing. Rachel gasped and flipped the lever back and forth, desperate to clear the heavy snowflakes from her view.
“Please don’t stop now. Just one more mile,” she whispered, trying to get the wipers to work.
A prayer for help rose to her lips just as the red stoplight appeared out of nowhere. As she crossed the intersection, she slammed on the brakes. The car surged forward, sliding on black ice. The trailer jackknifed. Terror shot up her spine and she spun the steering wheel, trying to regain control of the car. The trailer groaned, then slammed against the car, wrenching Rachel’s head to one side. An enormous shape appeared out of nowhere. Oncoming headlights blinded her as a large, white truck loomed into her path.
“No!”
The cry tore from her constricted throat. The car and trailer squealed, careening into the other lane. As the other vehicle struck her car, her ears filled with the horrible sound of crunching metal and shattering glass. Danny’s frightened scream filled the air. Pain shot through her left side. The impact caused her head to flip forward like a rag doll and smack the steering wheel. It happened so fast, yet everything moved in slow motion. One thought pounded her brain.
Danny! Wearing his seat belt. In the backseat. Away from the collision.
Her heart thudded as the car came to a jerking stop. She sat with her nose pressed against the car door, her seat belt biting into her shoulder. When she tried to move, a shot of pain flashed through her head and arm. Her body felt bruised.
Broken.
A thin whimper came from the backseat. She clawed at the door handle. She had to check Danny. Had to make certain he was okay.
The door opened, and snowflakes fell from the sky like wet confetti on New Year’s Eve. She lifted her head, staring into a wind tunnel of white, trying to clear her vision. Trying to focus on the man’s face materializing in front of her.
“Hey, lady, you okay?”
Her tongue felt like a chunk of wood and she couldn’t speak. She reached her hand toward the man, mumbling her concern for her son. Begging this stranger to help her. Knives of pain sliced through her left arm. She inhaled sharply, fighting off the dizzying stars that seemed to spot her vision. Her eyelids slid closed and everything went black.
“She’s awake, Doctor.”
Rachel blinked her eyes, feeling disoriented as she stared into a bright light pointed at her pupils. She clenched her eyes shut, her mind spinning. She tried to sort out what had happened.
“Danny!” she croaked, trying to sit up.
Firm hands pressed her down. “Easy, now. Just lie still for a moment.”
A man’s voice reached her consciousness, soft and soothing.
“Alex?” she whispered, forcing herself to open her eyes. She choked back a hoarse cry as pain pierced her brain.
No, this man wasn’t her husband. Too handsome, his hair and eyes too dark. His brow furrowed as his gaze focused on her face.
“My son…where is he?” she asked.
“He’s fine. Good thing you wore your seat belts. It saved your lives.”
“I want to see him,” she insisted. She had to know Danny was safe. Had to see him for herself.
“I’ll get him.” A woman’s voice, then retreating footsteps echoed down a hallway, but soon returned. A rustling of movement sounded beside her.
“Mommy!”
She opened her eyes and found Danny’s sweet face nearby. The boy leaned across the bed—no, a cot pushed against the wall of what appeared to be a storage room. The smell of antiseptic filled the air. Candles sat on the nearby table, their flames flickering in the shadows. The storm must have thrown the power out. Shelves lined the opposite wall filled with samplesized bags of dog and cat food and boxes of medical supplies.
Where was she? The town of Finley didn’t have a hospital, or even a clinic. Maybe she’d been taken to Elko, over one hundred miles away. But they couldn’t get her through the snowstorm, could they?
Danny’s brows scrunched together with concern. “Mommy?”
“Oh, honey. Are you okay?” She tried to reach for him, but pain shot through her left arm. She lay still, wishing she could hold him in her arms.
“I’m fine, but you don’t look too good. Your head’s bleedin’ again.”
“It is?” She brushed her fingers across her forehead, feeling a large bump and a butterfly bandage someone had put there. No wonder her head throbbed.
“Are you gonna die?” His mouth puckered as if he might cry.
“No, of course not, baby. I’ll be fine. You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah, look what Gladys gave me.”
Who was Gladys?
Danny stuck a red lollipop in front of Rachel’s eyes. Focusing made her stomach churn. In her hazy vision, she could make out the doctor and a woman standing behind Danny, both wearing blue smocks. A stethoscope dangled from the man’s neck beside a name badge that read: Dr. Sam. He leaned close to Danny and smiled, showing a dimple in his left cheek. “All right, son, why don’t you go with Gladys, now? She’ll get you something to eat and put you to bed. We’ll take good care of your mommy.”
“Okay.” Danny slid away.
Rachel reached for him, feeling a sinking of dread. Her fingers grasped air. “Where…where are you taking my son?”
The doctor spoke close by. “Gladys lives just down the street. Danny can bunk in with her son, Charlie.”
“Charlie?”
“Yeah, the two boys are the same age. Don’t worry. He’ll be fine. I’ll take you there just as soon as you feel well enough to walk.”
Rachel relaxed for a moment, then reconsidered. “Am I going to be okay?”
In the vague light, she could make out the doctor’s frown and intelligent brown eyes. A thatch of hair the color of a crow’s wing fell over his high forehead. He brushed his hand across the raspy stubble on his chin and his brows gathered together in perplexity. “Of course. You just need rest.”
Good. Danny needed her now more than ever.
She felt the doctor’s hand against her shoulder, warm and comforting. How she missed her husband. How she missed his firm, take-charge manner. Thinking about Alex caused tears to bead in the corners of her eyes.