Designed by Love (8 page)

“Thanks.” Traci handed him a box filled with bags of flour, sugar, and salt. “This shopping expedition turned out bigger than I planned. My pantry was pretty wiped out.”

“You've been busy, then.” Dylan hoisted the box onto his shoulder and reached into the trunk for a shopping bag. “Business must be good.”

“Yes. The past few days have brought two birthday parties and one retirement shindig, plus a trio of reveal cakes for a couple who's having triplets,
and
a bridal shower.”

“Triplets…ouch. Talk about busy.”

“You've been busy, too.” She eyed his T-shirt and faded jeans, torn at the knees and stained with splotches of paint. A baseball cap shaded his eyes from the warm late-spring sun. “What have you been up to?”

“Ryne asked me to help him work on the arbor for the wedding. We built it this morning and just finished painting it with some water-repellant white paint so work can get started adorning it with flowers early next week. I think Kevin and Jodie are handling that.”

“It's hard to believe the wedding's less than two weeks away. I hope the weather holds out. This humidity has been frightful, and the storms that have blown through the past week or so have been more severe than usual.”

“Forecasters are calling for more of the same through the weekend, but the long-range forecast looks promising. “

“Well, all the rain has been a blessing as far as the landscaping goes. Kevin's sure done an amazing job on the grounds around here. They've been beautifully transformed by his hands.”

“They sure have. And Jodie seems to enjoy helping him. They make a good team.” Dylan eyed the heart pendant, swaying gently as Traci walked beside him, and took note of the jangle of keys in his pocket. He was more convinced than ever that they'd been given as a symbol of encouragement and perhaps something more. “We do, too.”

“Yes, we do.” Traci paused at the front door and went up on her toes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “Do you have dinner plans?”

“Not yet. I was just wondering the same about you.”

“I was thinking of throwing together a pan of lasagna. Would you like to share it with me?”

“I thought you'd never ask.” Dylan wove his way through her living room to the kitchen, where he set the bags on her counter and drew her in for something more than a peck on the cheek. He wondered if she felt the same familiar hum as he did resonate from her forehead to her toes. The glaze in her eyes told him she did, and he liked that just fine. “Hmm…that's better. Except for this…” He used his thumb to brush a hint of paint from her cheek. “I guess I'd better head home to wash off this white stuff before we both end up splattered.”

“How about if I bring the lasagna to you? As you can see, my kitchen's a mess. I'm in the middle of prepping next week's orders.”

“That works. About seven o'clock?”

“Sure. And after we eat, maybe you'll show me your music collection.”

“I'd like that. You can help me do a final check of Ryne and Kaci's playlist. We'll give it a quick run through.”

“Great. I'll bring a slice of the mini strawberry confection I whipped up to test the flavor for their cake and you can tell me what you think, give your stamp of approval…or not.”

“Mmm…strawberries are on my favorites list.” He leaned in to snatch one more kiss. “I'll see you at seven, then.”

“I'm looking forward to it.”

 

****

 

Traci checked the clock above the kitchen sink as she put away the last of the groceries. Only four o'clock. If she hurried, she'd have time for a quick run before she started tossing the lasagna together.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, giving her pause. But a glance out the window told her the storm was still a good ways off to the east—far enough to afford her a few miles along the Angelina Greenway Trail.

She'd promised Dylan she wouldn't run at night and, despite the storm-darkened sky, it was only four o'clock.

Four-oh-six, to be exact. Still plenty of daylight left. No harm in taking a quick run. She headed to her closet, pulled out her running clothes and shoes and quickly changed into them. She headed out, locking the door behind her and jogging down the drive and across the fresh-mown lawn toward the trail, making the most of her time. The sweet scent of grass mingled with pine. Above her, the sky seemed to yawn and roll over, leaving a trail of dark clouds along a brush of purplish-green horizon.

Turn back.

The voice startled Traci and she turned, searching for the owner. Her only response was the call of thunder through the forest trees.

Turn back—now.

Traci ignored the voice, wishing she'd brought her iPod along after all. At least a little music would drown out the distant rumble that marred the sky. Maybe she'd ask Dylan to load some of his songs onto the device for her. She could be choosy, and take only the ones she most liked. His library was vast—there had to be something she'd enjoy. She peered through the growing darkness toward his cottage and saw the kitchen light flicker on like the beacon of a lighthouse.

Calmed by the thought, Traci fell into a rhythm that chased everything else fell away, including the storm that brewed in the distance. Her breathing became deep and even, her heart rate steady and strong. She pumped her arms as her feet slapped the blacktopped pavement and beads of perspiration dampened her brow.

The wound along the path as leaves skittered along the dancing treetops. Their chatter was a song that coaxed her along.

A series of raindrops fell from the sky, chasing the heat away. Another quarter-mile and she'd come to the wrought-iron bench she used as a mile marker. She'd turn around there, head back and be home to prepare the lasagna and tuck it into the oven before indulging in a shower and joining Dylan for dinner.

She looked forward to it…forward to time spent with him, to his conversation and gentle kisses.

Head back—now!

Traci made it to the bench and turned in a wide arc to head back toward the complex. That's when she saw it…a sky tinged red and churning like the spin-cycle of a washing machine. Clouds roiled as lightning split the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder that shook the ground, causing Traci to stumble.

Suddenly the breeze shifted and the chattering leaves grew to a chorus of crescendos as the limbs of trees bowed beneath the weight of the wind. The sky opened up, dumping its contents like a wide-open faucet. Traci picked up her pace, her lungs burning and her eyes blinded by the downpour as she bolted to a full-on sprint. Fear seized her as she searched for the lights of Dylan's cottage through the storm. The wind gusted, lifting her to her toes as tree boughs creaked around her like the hinges of rusty doors. She dodged lightning, struggled to keep her footing as thunder boomed. She wrestled wind gusts to keep her rain-muddled gaze trained to the lights of Dylan's cottage.

Until a sudden flash blinded her and the instant explosion of thunder threw her from the path, tossing her into a grove of trees. She heard an ear-shattering bellow—like the gut-wrenching screech of and enormous flock of angry birds, followed by the overwhelming smell of burned wood, and then a limb toppled from the tree above her, crashing down.

The world went black.

 

 

 

 

8

 

Dylan padded from the shower to a room masked in darkness. For a moment, he felt like he'd been plunged into a time warp. When he'd gone into the bathroom, the sky was dappled with sunlight. Just that fast, the sunlight faded, replaced by a raging storm.

It was a good one from all he saw as he toweled his dripping hair and then shrugged into a T-shirt and jeans…what his mom used to call a gully-washer. Rain cascaded over the windows, distorting his view as he took in the angry shade of red that seemed to blanket the sky. He did a double-take, having never seen quite that color, and the lightning that flashed like strobes along the forest beyond, punctuated by booms of thunder, only served to intensify an odd feeling of dread that suddenly crawled into his bones.

Find Traci.

Dylan lifted a finger to his ear, scratched as a sound whispered through. The thunder had to be messing with his hearing. Or maybe Traci was right and he was beginning to lose his range to the heightened decibel overload he used when he DJ'd. He'd heed her warning, tone it down a notch or two.

Go to Traci.

The voice whispered, nudging him toward the shadowed hall. He peered through the darkness, squinting for an explanation—any explanation. The keys on the ring he'd hung on the hook beside the door jangled as they slipped to the floor. Dylan crouched to retrieve them, his gaze falling on the joined hearts.

Traci…

Dylan shoved the keys into his pocket as he crossed the living room and threw open the front door. Though the porch was covered, rain whipped into his eyes from the force of the gusting wind. His skin stung as if pierced by an army of needles while he turned to survey Traci's cottage. He was shocked to see it stood in complete darkness…odd since the storm had chased away daylight and she'd need at least the light of a single room—the kitchen. She couldn't manage to cook the lasagna she'd promised him in the dark.

Dylan stepped from the shelter of the porch to descend the stairs and cross the side yard that served as a boundary between their cottages. Traci's car sat in the drive and locked tight, just as she'd left it. He climbed the few steps to her front door and gave a series of sharp raps with his fist, calling her name as the wind carried his words, tossing them like kindling.

No answer. Dylan pounded again, harder this time, and then pressed one ear against the paneled door to listen. Nothing—no music, no singing, no clattering pans. Just the uneasy sound of silence. He grasped the door handle, turned it and pushed. The door didn't budge, but was locked tight.

Traci needs you.

Panic rose like the wind that whipped hair into his eyes like a swarm of angry wasps. He rounded the house, pausing at each window to pound and shout Traci's name as he peered through the rain-splattered glass. Lightning flashed around him and then, suddenly, a fierce crack of thunder boomed so loud that for a moment he reeled, deafened by the aftershock.

When he recovered his balance, he turned toward the roar to find an explosion of flames at the edge of the forest. The putrid smell of electricity coupled with charred wood rose to burn his sinuses. He cupped a hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the onslaught of rain as the flames illuminated the tree line. A swatch of neon orange shifted along the forest's edge and rolled a short distance toward the greenway, then stilled.

Somewhere, in the recesses of his brain, Dylan recognized the distinct, bright-orange color as a running shirt he'd seen once before.

Traci's running shirt.

“Traci!” He shouted her name, plowing through terror while he launched into a sprint across the grass, closing the gap between the cottage and the greenway as the storm kicked up around him. Lightning crescendoed and only one thought filled Dylan's mind as he wove a path straight to the orange…straight to Traci.

I've finally found her…found the woman I've longed to spend the rest of my life with. What will I do if I lose her now?

 

****

 

Traci woke to a throb of pain. She moaned and instantly felt Dylan's gentle touch along her rain-soaked cheek.

“You're safe now, Traci.” He murmured, soothing her. “Everything's OK. I've got you.”

“I'm so cold.” She tried to sit up and the sky swirled. Her heart raced and a chill swept through, making her teeth chatter against pellets of rain that tore at her skin. Though her clothing was completely soaked, her throat burned with thirst. “What happened?”

“Lightning struck a tree and one of the limbs fell onto the greenway. You must have tripped over it, stumbled, and got the breath knocked out of you. There's a scrape along your forehead and it's bleeding quite a bit. An ambulance is on the way to take you to the hospital. They'll want to check you over, make sure nothing's broken. Does it hurt anywhere beside your head?”

“No...” Sirens wailed in the distance, and the shriek ripped at Traci's ears. She grimaced and reached for Dylan's hand. “…dinner…”

“Dinner can wait.” He tore the hem of his T-shirt with his free hand and pressed the cotton fabric to Traci's throbbing forehead as he used his body to shield her from the rain. “Just lay still, sweetheart. The ambulance is almost here.”

Traci sighed as the darkness closed in once again.

****

Daybreak yawned through the living room window, rousing Dylan. He checked his watch…six-oh-five. He must have nodded off, finally.

It had been a long night—a terrifying night—but the emergency-room physician's calming words coasted through Dylan's mind. “Traci's going to be fine. She's suffered only a bump on the head…a few scratches. She's lucky. With the way that storm blew through, so strong and without much warning, she could have suffered much, much worse.”

As the doctor signed the papers to release Traci from his care, he continued to reassure Dylan. Traci needn't spend the night, she required only close supervision at home in case her condition changed.

Dylan promised he'd see Traci was cared for and silently thanked God she'd soon be good as new again.

Now he scrubbed sleep from his eyes and stretched the weariness from his limbs as he eased from the recliner and padded to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. He was loath to leave Traci and return to his own cottage last night after he returned her home and tucked her into her couch beneath a mound of blankets. But Kaci had arrived as soon as she heard the news and promised to spend the night to keep a close watch. She'd call if anything changed.