His Winter Rose and Apple Blossom Bride (27 page)

“Thank you.”

Two other rooms that should have been filled with brothers and sisters that had never happened. Her mother had claimed one as her sewing room. Ashley had used the other for her paints and watercolors.

In the blink of an eye her surroundings became her room from the past. White organza curtains billowing at the windows, white carpet on the floor, a white eyelet spread on the bed. Even after she’d left to come back each summer, it had stayed the same. Piper and Rowena had lounged on the red chairs while she stretched out on the bed.

For a few moments the happy times flooded back, but then the pain intruded. With a wistful sigh, Ashley turned and walked downstairs.

“Are you interested? I’ll give you my card, just in case. Feel free to call at any time. Here are the specs if you need them.”

“Thanks for letting me look.” Ashley tucked the paper into her purse, then walked back to her car, the sadness of the place haunting her.

Why am I still here, God? What is it I’m trying to find in Serenity Bay that will let me get back my life?

She could easily find herself another job. She had the experience and the credentials—it wouldn’t be hard. And yet a tiny tug in her heart told her she should wait. A verse Mrs. Masters had taught them echoed back from the past as it had twice before.

Be still and know that I am God.

Be still
—Was He trying to teach her something?

But before Michael came, at the ice-cream shop—I saw him. I know I did.
She’d never forget that face, no matter how long she lived.

Which meant that either her abductor had returned or he’d never left.

“How can I stay if he’s here?”

As she drove to Piper’s, Ashley heard only one answer.

Know that I am God.

Chapter Five

A
fter three weeks of using every possible excuse she could find to avoid running into Michael Masters again, Ashley’s luck ran out the Friday an early snowstorm sent school students home ahead of schedule.

“Hello, Michael,” she said when she had to pass by him to get her coat from the staff room.

He nodded, stepped back to allow her to pass. “Ashley.”

She retrieved her coat, wound her scarf around her neck, buying precious minutes until he left. But Michael didn’t seem inclined to leave quickly. He thrust his arms into his jacket, waited until the other teachers left the room. Then there were only two of them.

“How are you?”

“Fine.” She risked a look at him, found his focus centered on her. “You?”

“Can’t complain.” He kept watching her. “You’re still here.”

“Yes.” She shrugged. “I promised Piper I wouldn’t leave until after her wedding. Except for Christmas. I’m going to Hawaii for that.”

“Nice.”

“My mom lives there.” Ashley drew on her gloves, wishing he’d move away from the doorway. She didn’t want to push past him and there really was little more to say.

“What’s keeping you busy?”

“Nothing much.”

“Somehow I don’t see you content to think about nothing much which means you’ve been up to something.” Michael’s mischievous grin flashed then disappeared. His voice grew edgy. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“It’s not a secret.” She sighed, pressed the strap of her purse over one shoulder. “Look. I messed up. Big-time. I offended you and I know it. If I say I’m sorry again will you forgive me and forget about my big mouth?”

“It’s
why
you said it that bugs me.”

She’d known that was coming. Ashley met his gaze and admitted the truth.

“You make me nervous, Michael.”

“Nervous? Me?” He blinked. “Why?”

“Shades of the past, probably. I guess I still think of you as the most popular boy on the Bay and I feel like the dumb klutz I was, hiding behind your mother’s plant. Sometimes my mouth gets going before my brain is in gear, like that day when I—you know. I feel stupid.”

“Then we’re even,” he murmured.

Ashley frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I look at you and see a classy polished woman who’s traveled around the world, wears designer clothes, has mingled with some of the twentieth century’s best artists, and I feel like a country bumpkin. And then there’s the connection.”

Connection? What was he talking about?

“I know it probably sounds cheesy to put it like that, but there
is
a connection between us, Ashley. You must have felt it.”

She might have told herself he was teasing but for his serious expression. And for the fact that she had felt a zing of electricity the moment she’d first seen him. That had grown stronger with each meeting.

“You’re not saying anything. That’s a bad sign.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.

“Just talk to me.”

“I like you, Michael. I like Tati very much. But coming back to Serenity Bay—well, it’s brought back a lot of stuff I’d rather forget. None of it particularly pleasant.” She hoped he wouldn’t press for details.

“So where do we go from here?”

“What if we just agree that you’re no country bumpkin and you say you’ll forgive me saying and doing the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

“Done.” He thrust out his hand and grasped hers, shaking it as if they’d struck some deal. “So what have you been doing lately?”

“If I say you’re like a dog with a bone, will you be offended?” She chuckled at his growl. “If you must know, I’ve been assembling a sort of inventory of the artists in the area.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Probably because of all Piper’s talk about getting Serenity Bay on the map. She thinks there could be a real explosion of interest here once tourists find out there are so many talented people doing such a variety of work. Frankly, I think she’s right. But nobody’s going to know unless the artists get some exposure.”

“You know a way to do that?”

“I know some gallery owners,” she said, wondering what had put the glint back in his eyes. “I’ve contacted a couple of them who are willing to look at some pieces on spec.”

“You don’t look pleased by that.”

“I guess it’s a first step, but I was thinking more in terms of setting up something here. If a well-known gallery had a satellite place in Serenity Bay, they’d have first shot at the pieces and the city galleries might accept that the work that’s produced here is worth coming to see.” She rubbed her neck, aware that a tiny headache had begun there. “A win-win situation.”

“But your gallery people don’t want that.”

“To them a place here would be a money loser. The area’s tourism isn’t built in yet so they say what’s happened so far might be a flash in the pan. Piper’s plans for the winter look good on paper but until the Bay starts attracting people and revenue, I don’t think anyone is going to sink that big an investment for return that only lasts a few months in the year.”

“I see.”

She ducked her head to look outside. “The snow’s getting worse. I’d better go.”

“Yeah.” Still he didn’t move. It was almost as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get the words out.

“Would you let me pass, please?”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but after a moment shook his head and stepped aside. “Of course. Drive carefully.”

“I always do.” She eased past him, catching the scent of his aftershave that made her think of a summer long past when she’d seen Michael riding his motorcycle. Her heart skipped.

Oh, yeah, there was a connection between them.

“Have a good weekend.”

Ashley fluttered her fingers then hurried down the hall, pushed open the door. Noon’s brisk autumn breeze had become a raging gust that ripped at her hair and dashed snow against her cheek. If this kept up, it wouldn’t be long before the roads were covered with snow drifts. She tossed her purse onto the passenger’s seat, saw a slide fall out and remembered that she was supposed to have given it to a student in her class who was studying that artist’s work.

“Blast!”

Ashley pulled out her cell phone and called Jillian to get directions to the girl’s home. Then she eased out of her parking spot and onto the street. The sky darkened to lead as the wind caught falling snowflakes and hurled them into the air, making visibility difficult.

“Just give me enough time for one stop,” she begged, peering through the windshield. “Just one, then I’m home.”

She found the outlying street without any trouble, but the house was set far back on the property and she had to drive the car down snowy ruts. She could have waited, of course. But the essay Jillian had assigned was due next Wednesday and Ashley had already forgotten once.

She left the motor running, grabbed the square of film and trudged to the door. After a hurried explanation she handed it over to the girl’s mother. As she hurried back to her car, she slipped twice. The temperature had dropped. The storm was getting much worse.

Back on the street Ashley found her exit blocked by two cars that had hit each other head-on. She backed up, took a side road, biting her lips as the undercarriage of the car rubbed over the ice and snow ridges.

“Just get me home, baby. That’s all I ask.”

The road Ashley turned onto wasn’t familiar. These houses were set on larger plots of land, far back from the road, hidden from view.

“They must all drive four-by-fours,” she muttered to herself as she corrected yet another swerve of the car. A truck behind her moved in a little too close so she eased to one side, hoping he would pass and let her to drive at her own speed.

He didn’t pass.

Ashley gripped the wheel tightly as she steered. The truck stayed on her tail, only now the driver was honking. The familiar quaver of panic began in her stomach, pinching its way to each nerve as she crept along, her wheels slipping and sliding over the icy surface, trying to find traction.

What if? What if—

Finally, at a crossroad approach, the truck roared up beside her.

He was going to pass. Ashley drew a calming breath, felt the pressure ease. Everything was fine. She was safe.

“Good riddance to you, too,” she agreed when the truck blasted one last honk before it roared ahead of her.

But the flurry of white it left behind caused her to lose sight of the road. Too late, she realized she was heading for the ditch. Trying to correct, she oversteered. The car spun round and round and all she could do was hang on as memories of another crash took control of her mind.

Except this time there was a soft
poof
as the car slid into a pile of snow.

She wasn’t hurt. She was fine. Nothing had happened.

Ashley pressed the gas pedal. The tires spun uselessly. She tried Reverse—to no avail.

Great. She was totally stuck on the side of the road in the middle of a freak snowstorm.

“Wonderful,” she grumbled, reaching for her purse. “Not only don’t I know exactly where I am but my cell phone probably doesn’t work out here.”

It didn’t. Hills loomed on either side. Which, of course, blocked the signal.

“Perfect.” Reminded of warnings against carbon monoxide poisoning Ashley switched off the engine. Immediately the howl of the wind whistled around her. The rag-top wasn’t built for this.

At least she had on her low-heeled boots, a warm sweater and her heaviest wool coat. She could walk if she had to. Somebody had to live at the end of the lane across the road—which meant there should be traffic on this road. She turned on her flashers and decided to wait it out.

The heat from the car dissipated in minutes. Ashley drew her collar up around her ears, tightened her scarf around her neck. She’d give it ten minutes. If no one came by then, she’d get out and walk. Locking the doors made her feel a little better.

Time ticked by so slowly.

A forgotten sweater lay on the backseat. She reached back to grab it, heard someone rap on her window. Heaving a sigh of relief she struggled to unroll it, trying to see through the misted glass.

Her breath caught in her throat as a face she’d never forgotten loomed before her.

“Get out.” Same words, same gruff tone.

The terror of those moments rushed back, snapping the paralysis that had kept her silent.

“Go away,” she screamed as she grabbed the handle and rolled up the window. “Leave me alone!”

He tapped on the window twice more but Ashley ignored him, her body shaking as she prayed for help. She pressed the horn, once, twice. He yelled something, rapped one last time then finally left. She tried to see where he’d gone as her heart pounded furiously. Finally a rusty truck pulled onto the road and passed her.

It wasn’t the same vehicle she’d been pushed into so long ago, but then it wouldn’t be, seventeen years later.

Ashley clutched the wheel, closed her eyes and fought against another wash of fear by pulling in slow deep breaths, just as she’d been taught. It took a while but finally she felt able to critically assess her situation.

No way could she get out and walk now. He could be the one who lived down that lane. But neither could she wait here forever. The radio said the storm could last all night. She’d be buried by morning. Already the light was fading.

Fears that had hung in the wings of her mind tiptoed forward, encouraging a host of worries to follow.

Piper and Jason were away. No one would miss her. If the snow and wind continued, her car could be buried, or hit by a snowplow. She could die out here!

Oh, God, I’m scared and alone and I need help. Please send someone.

* * *

“That’s Ashley’s car.”

Michael frowned, dared to glance away from the road for a second. “Where?”

“Up there. See, Daddy. The sunflowers.”

“Yes, I see, honey.” He followed her pointing finger, saw the car half buried at the edge of the road. What was Ashley doing out here? “I’m going to talk to her. You stay in your seat and keep your belt buckled,” he ordered as he edged over onto the side of the road. “Don’t get out of your seat, Tati. I mean it,” he emphasized as he set his hazard lights.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Michael tugged on his gloves then stepped out of the vehicle, struggling through the accumulation of snow to reach her. The car was going to need a tow truck.

He rapped on her window.

“Leave me alone!”

Uncertain that he’d heard the words correctly, he tried again, pulling on the door handle as he spoke.

“Ashley, it’s Michael Masters. Are you all right?”

The window rolled down a crack. “Michael?” she whispered.

“Yep, it’s me. Unlock the door and I’ll help you out.”

“I’m stuck.”

“I can see that. You’re going to need a tow truck and they’re really busy with the storm. You can come to my place to wait. It’s just down the road.”

“Okay.” But she didn’t move.

“You have to open the door, Ashley.” He checked to be sure Tati was still safely inside his car as another vehicle approached.

“Need any help?” a man in the other car called out.

“Not unless you can pull this out.” Michael already knew the little import he was driving would be no help.

“Sorry. Haven’t got enough power.”

“Thanks anyway.”

As the other car drove off he heard door locks click. A moment later Ashley opened her door. In the light of her car Michael thought he saw tears on her pale cheeks.

“Are you hurt? Anything broken?” he asked, checking her face, her clothes. But aside from the tear tracks, Ashley Adams looked as immaculate as she always did.

“I’m fine. It was a soft landing.” She stood staring up at him, her big gray eyes filled with shadows, her voice trembling. “I’m so glad you came.”

“So am I.” He took her arm, helped her over the crust of snow and onto the road. “Go get in my car. I’ll lock up here. Do you have your keys?”

Confusion filled her face. “I don’t know.”

Something was obviously wrong, but he wasn’t going to question her now. Michael bent, glanced at the ignition.