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.

And Dylan had promised to return at first light so Kaci could get to work in her classroom at Angel Falls High. It was finals week, after all.

He splashed water on his face while the coffeemaker gurgled and spat, then dried himself with a hand towel and filled a thermos to cart next door.

Somewhere between the kitchen doorway and the front porch, he froze as a realization hit him with a force greater than last night’s thunderstorm.

He cared about Traci…loved her.

Rephrase that—he was completely and irrevocably in love with Traci Stanton.

Now, the only question that remained was…did Traci feel the same. And if she did, what were they going to do about it?