A Simple Winter: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel (30 page)

When they reached the paved road, Adam sensed trouble.

“Whoa.” He held the horse back and slid to the ground. A coating of slush, like an inch of pudding, covered the asphalt road. And underneath?

His boots slid as he tested the way. Just as he’d thought, there was slush on top of ice. Nearly impassable.

“Let’s stick to the shoulder,” he told the horse, leading him to the side of the roadbed. “Just stay out of the ditch.”

Knowing Thunder could manage the terrain as long as they stayed off smooth ice, Adam hitched himself atop the horse and
picked up the pace. In a half mile, he didn’t see a single vehicle. It was a wasteland out here.

Concern gripped him as they headed toward town.

Where was Remy now?

He’d been wrong to send her out in this. It seemed that he expended so much energy trying to get her away from his family and out of his thoughts. But he’d been wrong to turn her out in this foul weather. He saw that now.

“Oh, Lord,” he breathed, his heart thudding in desperation. “Please, keep her safe.”

They crested a hill and he saw it—the lump of a vehicle jutting from a ditch at the side of the road. One of the wheels was off the ground and still moving slowly, and the roadway was a scramble of tire tracks in the snow.

Was it Remy? Whoever it was needed help.

He urged his horse forward, his eyes on the car. It had slid off to the right side of the road, and now, with the passenger side pressed into the ditch, it would be near impossible to pry open that door.

When they were parallel to the wreck, he halted his horse and left the horse to wait on the shoulder as he slogged across the ice to the disabled car.

“Remy?”

No answer in the falling snow.

“Remy? Are you okay?” he shouted as he approached.

In the sickening silence, he listened intently and prayed.

Then, the driver’s door opened, and the beam of his flashlight illuminated her tearstained face.

“Adam?” She sniffed. “I feel so … so stupid.”

“Don’t. It wasn’t your fault.” He bent down beside the car. “Are you okay? Any bumps or bleeding?”

“No … I don’t think so.”

As she swiped at her eyes, he stared into the dark car. His
heartbeat quickened at the sight of her face, illuminated by her cell phone. Her lower lip trembled, but there were no injuries that he could see.

“There was ice on the road.…” She sniffed. “I didn’t realize until it was too late and …” The dashboard was covered by the disheveled gray fabric of the air bags. Now sagging, they had done their job.

Her eyes were round and glassy with tears, and as one tracked down her cheek he allowed himself to brush it away with the tip of a finger.

“The important thing is that you’re safe,” he said.

“Don’t. You’re going to kill me with kindness, after I’ve been a total idiot. I should have listened to you about the weather, and now …” Her voice broke. “I wrecked my car and I can’t get cell service. And even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to tell a tow truck how to find me.”

“No trucks will be heading out here in this storm, but don’t worry. We’ll help you find one tomorrow, after the snow stops. For now, let’s get you back to the warm house.”

“I can’t. Sadie told me you got in trouble when I stayed last time.”

“That’s not entirely true.…” But he was intrigued to know that Sadie cared about what the church leaders thought.

“You can put me out in the barn. I’ll sleep in the hayloft.”

“The barn?” All the pent-up anxiety over her safety drained in a laugh at the thought of Remy holed up in a pile of hay. “Don’t be silly. You’re coming home with me.”

As if suddenly weary, she leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Adam. I keep causing you trouble.”

She spoke the truth. She probably had no idea how much trouble she had brought into his home and heart. But this was not the time.

“Look. You need a safe place to stay. We have plenty of room. Let’s get you out of here.” He reached across her to remove the keys from the ignition, then remained close, his face inches from hers. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

She nodded.

“Okay. Let’s see how you are on your feet. Careful getting out. You might be in shock, and it’s really slippery out here.”

Of course she knew about the ice, having skidded off the road, but he knew shock could do strange things to people.

He stepped back from the door and extended a hand. She swung her feet around and accepted his help. A good thing, as she wobbled when she stood up.

Relief washed over him as he held tight to her, steadying her. The car might be a wreck, but she had been spared. That was all that mattered.

She stared at their hands, then looked up at him. “No gloves?”

“I left in a hurry.”

“Oh.” She turned to close the car door, but the force sent her legs skittering out from under her.

In an instant he was behind her, catching her slender body, which seemed light as she collapsed in his arms.

“I’m not doing too well.” She held on to his shoulder as if clinging to a cliff edge. “It’s not a seizure or anything, I just—”

“You’re probably in shock. It happens in accidents like these.”

“Yes.” Her face was inches from his, so close he saw a snowflake catch in one of her eyelashes.

With Remy in his arms, safe and soft, he didn’t feel the cold, but suddenly he became acutely aware of the details of this moment, the thick white flakes falling in her hair, the silken sound of her breathing in the stillness, the glimmer of trust in her green eyes.

“I would carry you to my horse, but I’m not sure how solid my footing would be on the road.”

“Oh. Right. I think I can walk.” She slid from his arms, a soft, light, perfumed dream.

After she retrieved her purse and locked the car, they slogged toward Thunder, who didn’t seem to mind the cold at all. Remy slipped again, reaching for him as she went down. He managed to catch her, and slid an arm around her waist for support.

“Pretend you’re skating,” he said.

Lips pursed in determination, she slid a foot forward, then clutched him again. “Skating was never my thing.” But she took another sliding step, and he loved her for trying.

“That’s your horse?” she asked. When he nodded, she observed, “He doesn’t have a saddle.”

“I told you, I tore out of there. Have you ever ridden?”

“Here’s one area where I won’t give you trouble,” she said. “Lucky for you, Herb was a big believer in riding lessons. Horse camp, dressage, the whole deal. I’ve even ridden bareback.”

“That will help.”

He wove his fingers together to give her a boost, and was impressed at the way she mounted the horse with ease. He swung up behind her. But when he reached around her shoulders for the reins, the smell of her hair so near his face took him by surprise, traces of honeysuckle and mint in a winter storm. To be inhaling the scents of an Englisher woman, to have her delicate bones pressing against him, the heat of her body melding with his …

This was unlike anything he’d experienced since his return home.

Sweet torture.

For a moment he considered going on foot. Feet pounding the frozen earth … that would calm his heightened senses, but it would slow them down. And he didn’t want to risk exposing Remy to the cold after the trauma of the car accident.

He squeezed the horse’s sides with his calves, and Thunder
moved forward. The motion sent Remy leaning back against him, awakening thoughts and sensations that had faded long ago. The touch of a woman, her smell and softness …

Clenching his jaw, he urged his horse on through the snow and pushed toward home.

hrough the layers of shock and cold and rejection, Remy was struck by the irony of the situation. Sitting in front of Adam on the huge draft horse, she allowed herself to melt back into the warmth of the one man she would never be allowed to love. She knew that from their argument back at the house. From the way he’d hammered at the separate worlds thing, the message was hardly subtle.

Nothing would ever transpire between them.

She shifted her head, fitting into the cradle of his arms. Such a perfect fit, though it would never happen. That was sad. Tragic.

And now she’d wrecked her car.

Her eyes stung as they misted over. To add insult to injury, a fat snowflake flew at her face and caught in the lashes of her left eye. She gave it a rub, wincing at the picture of what her life had become.

A ruined car. A failure at work. An absent father.

If she had died in that crash, who would have cared? A handful of people.

And since Arlene had given her permission to take some time off to get her story, she might not have been missed for days or even weeks.

And she had thought the fact that Adam King hated her was tragic? The real tragedy was her life … or the lack of one.

Here lies Remy McCallister, a woman who really didn’t matter
.

That was the thought that had consumed her as the world went spinning beyond her car. I’m going to die, and I haven’t done anything with my life yet.

And she’d asked God for help.

And she had survived, intact. Was that God’s answer? Was this her second chance at life, to do it right this time?

Were her thoughts scrambled?

Probably.

It was difficult to process the tangible information coming at her right now. The warmth of his body curling around her shoulders like a winter cloak. The gentle motion of the horse beneath them, rocking her to a daze, lulling her to a fantasy that the strong, warm man behind her actually cared for her.

No, don’t go there
.

For now she had to hold on to the relief of being safe. A double bonus to have been saved by Adam, though she could never admit that to anyone because it was insane to fall in love with an Amish man when you were a millionaire’s daughter from the city.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to inhale the scent of him, a way to memorize the moment. He smelled of wood smoke and soap.

“Easy,” he called. “Almost there.”

Was he talking to the horse, or to her?

She didn’t want to return to the house. She didn’t want to go back to reality, back to her empty life.

To stay on this magnificent creature, cocooned in the crook of Adam’s body with leaves of snow dancing around them—that was the picture of bliss.

But maybe, just maybe, her life could begin again when her feet touched the ground. A do-over, like in schoolyard kickball. A second chance.

Although Remy had thought she would never see the inside of the King home again, most of the family seemed to be waiting there to welcome her, relief warming their eyes.

“You’re safe!” Sadie threw her arms around Remy as she stepped into the mudroom. “We were so worried.”

Remy hugged her tight, touched to know they were concerned about her. “I smashed my car. It’s a mess.”

“But you’re okay?” Sadie leaned back to look at her.

“I’m fine.”

“She needs to sit down,” Adam said from behind her. “She might be in shock, and she’s cold and wet.”

“Soaked to the bone.” Sadie rubbed Remy’s shoulder. “I can feel it. Your jacket, is it ruined?”

“I think it will dry.”

“Get those wet things off, and we’ll warm you up.” Mary stood in the doorway, hands on her hips as she summoned her into the kitchen.

With a mixture of relief and weariness, Remy turned to the outside door, but Adam was gone. “Where did he go?”

“Thunder needs to be put away, but he’ll be back. Quick, now. Out of those wet things.”

Remy shed her jacket and boots and stepped into the warm kitchen, where Leah and Susie, Mary, Ruthie, and Simon waited anxiously.

“There’s snow in your hair,” Ruthie observed, her eyes bright. “It’s been coming down like crazy.”

Remy ran a hand through her hair and droplets fell. “Look at me, dripping on your clean floor.”

“Don’t worry.” Leah handed her a clean towel, then leaned down to swipe at the floor with a rag.

“Jonah said we might not make it to school tomorrow,” Susie reported. “That’s why Ruthie and Simon got to stay up extra late.”