“Don’t ever do that again,” Gabe demanded, his voice raised, his fingers clamped around the steering wheel. “It’s stupid enough to do it under normal circumstances, but look outside. Look at the rain and the road. These are dangerous driving conditions.”
“Gabe, really. It was just a few seconds.”
“It only takes a second.” His chest grew tight as memories flashed through his mind. “Believe me.”
She stared at him for a moment, then winced. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have unbuckled. I should have asked you to pull over. My mind is on the babies. Since dehydration can cause contractions, all I thought about was getting more water into me as fast as possible.”
“I get it. Just … don’t do it again.”
“I won’t.” She sipped her water and added, “I promise.”
I promise. His throat constricted with emotion; nevertheless, a tiny sound of pain escaped. Those two little words echoed through his mind and pierced his heart.
Hold on, Jen. Please. Help will be here soon. Don’t leave me. Please, dear Lord, help us. Jen, hold on. Don’t leave me!
I won’t. I promise.
They were the last words Jen said to him before she died in his arms.
Grimly he attempted to push the thought aside as he stared ahead, concentrating on his driving, balancing the needs for speed and safety to the best of his ability. But as the miles and minutes ticked by, events from his past assailed him and a sense of inevitability weighted his heart and soul.
This wouldn’t end well. It never did. He never should have let down his guard.
As that thought crystallized in his mind, the car rounded a curve and the animal’s eyes flashed in the beam of the headlights as an elk bounded from the trees directly in front of them. Gabe instinctively braked and twisted the wheel. The tires skidded. The car began to hydroplane. Nic screamed. Jen screamed.
The elk bounced off the front fender and disappeared into the woods as the airbags deployed.
Airbags deployed. Metal crunched. Matt’s cry stopped abruptly.
The Jeep slid off the road and came to rest softly against a stand of piñon pines. Beside him, his wife cried out, “Gabe?”
A chemical scent filled the air. “Jen, are you all right?”
She let out a little whimper of pain. “Nic. I’m Nic. Can we drive? Please tell me we’re not stuck.”
Nic. I’m with Nic. Gabe glanced in the backseat. No smashed car seat. No broken little boy. This was Colorado, not Virginia. Nic, not Jennifer. Twin babies on the way, not his beloved little Matt.
He looked at Nic, barely able to see her in the shadows. She’s moving. She’s talking. Gabe blew out a breath, released his death grip around the steering wheel, and dragged a trembling hand down his face, then switched on the dome light. “Nicole, are you hurt?”
She was as pale as a corpse. Urgently he asked, “Are you bleeding?”
“No. Just scraped up a bit, I think, from the airbag. Are we stranded, Gabe?”
He took stock. The windshield wipers kept up their rhythmic motion. Norah Jones still sang. The motor continued to run. They had four-wheel drive. He’d get them out of here if he had to push the Jeep back onto the road himself. “We’re not stranded,” he told her, opening his door. “I’ll be right back.”
Cold rain doused him and he vaguely noted the scrapes on his own skin stinging as he rounded the front of the car. The dent in the passenger-side front panel sucked the breath right out of his lungs. Two seconds later and the elk would have come through Nic’s window. She could have died.
Nausea struck him and he staggered back a step, leaned over with his hands on his knees, and vomited. Then he stood and lifted his face into the cold, driving rain, but he knew he couldn’t tarry. The clock was still ticking.
He returned to the Jeep. “The ground is spongy but not a quagmire,” he told Nic. “Getting out should be no problem.” With a deft touch he guided the Jeep back onto the road.
Gabe didn’t protest when Nic switched on the heater and ejected the CD. He was cold to the bone, though he doubted anything so simple as a heater could warm him. He was lost in a nightmare made up of now and of then. He could smell blood on the air even while he knew he was in Colorado and not in Virginia. What if the doctor couldn’t stop her labor? What if