Chapter 31

NO AIR. COULDN’T BREATHE. HER lungs were going to burst.

Panic gripped Jill with an icy claw and pulled her downward. Ferocious waves buffeted her body back and forth, sweeping her along in a whirlwind of motion.

Her head broke the surface long enough to gasp air into ravaged lungs. Then she was sucked beneath the churning waters again.

Her floundering hands brushed against something hard. Moving with an instinct she didn’t know she possessed, she kicked her legs with every ounce of strength she could muster, grappling for purchase on the rock. Her head surfaced again, and one foot found a hold. She wedged her shoe in place and hugged the boulder with all her might, the waves pounding against her back, until she could catch her breath and gather the strength to climb.

Cold, so cold she could barely move. A cold so deep it sapped her energy. She couldn’t shiver, could barely feel the granite beneath her hands as she labored to pull herself out of the water. A smoky chemical smell choked her as she climbed, one laborious centimeter at a time, over the ragged shoreline and onto the sparse grassy hillside beyond.

She rolled onto her back and collapsed.

Moments later, or maybe hours later, she awoke. The sulfurous stench still filled her nostrils. She sat up and took stock of her surroundings. She’d crossed the entire width of the bay and come up on the opposite shore, tossed by the waves that churned the water to foam. Beyond the mouth of the bay, the narrow harbor channel was empty. There was no sign of the two ships that had collided. They must have exploded, hence the chemical smell.

My dream was true. There was a disaster.

The knowledge brought no satisfaction, but churned in her stomach. She didn’t want to be right.

Smoke billowed into the sky from dozens of sources in the direction of Seaside Cove. Her home. She covered her mouth with a hand, her eyes straining to see the buildings beyond a swell in the land.

The hillside behind her sloped steeply upward. From the top, she might be able to see the town. She struggled to her feet and climbed, using her hands to balance herself on the loose bare soil. The wind at her back deposited a wet, soggy dust on her clothing. After a moment she realized it was ash. At the top of the hill, she stood upright and turned.

The shoreline of Seaside Cove lay in ruins. The buildings that lined Harbor Street had been reduced to charred remains. Structures on the street behind them hadn’t fared much better. Black smoke rose from smoldering ruins, and active flames roared from some unseen source. From a distance the faint wail of sirens carried to her across the water. She should be able to see the southern edge of the dock from here. Instead, she saw nothing but debris cluttering the rocky shore.

Her heart twisted. How many people died? The protesters at Harbor Square this morning? The newspeople? Mr. and Mrs. Herndon from church? Rowena?

And what about Greg?

Painful sobs drove her to her knees. Oh, Greg. Please be all right. If you waited for me …

A noise behind her told of someone’s approach. Another survivor? She scrubbed tears on her sleeve and squinted to see.

A man strode up the hill with no visible effort, his erect form upright. As he neared she glimpsed silver-streaked dark hair that fell in a swoop across his forehead above piercing dark eyes. A deep cleft punctuated his chin.

Robert?

Numb, Jill couldn’t move. Had she lost her mind? He looked flesh-and-blood real. Solid. But that was impossible. She’d made Robert up, hadn’t she?

Sensitive lips curved into a wide smile as he approached.

“Hello, Jill.”

He clasped her hands in the greeting of friends, and his long, artistic fingers pressed hers firmly. He was real.

“Oh, Robert.” She squeezed his hands. “I didn’t make you up, did I? You really were in New York.”

His smile deepened. “I was.”

“First, the subway crash and then this.” She unclasped one of her hands and gestured in the direction of Seaside Cove.

Wait. Why is Robert in Seaside Cove? Confused, she shook her head in an attempt to clear her whirling thoughts. “When did you get into town?”

“I wasn’t in town, dear.” The eyes that looked into hers softened. “I just arrived. I came to speak with you.”

She whirled around to scan the direction from which he came. There were no cars. How did he get here, then? It was as though he just appeared.

A shiver marched across her flesh. Was this yet another crazy nightmare? A new one? “Are you some kind of … angel?”

His answer was a warm smile.

Shock waves zipped down her spine. “Then … I’m dead? You’re coming to take me to heaven?”

Joyful laughter rolled down the hillside and echoed back from the water below. “No, dear. The first time I came to you, my mission was to give you comfort, and to encourage you to be strong for the trial that was to come. That’s why I called myself Robert.”

“But …” Jill shook her head. “Robert Schumann’s dream was taken from him. He went insane.”

“You only know what the history books have told you. I know his heart, and his mind.” His voice became as tender as his smile. “He suffered an injury like yours, but continued to use his gift, even though the outcome was different than he planned. He blessed so many more people as a composer than he would have as a pianist. I thought you’d be encouraged by the reminder that someone else who shared your dream overcame a hand injury and went on to accomplish marvelous things.” He touched her lightly on the shoulder. “I’m sorry you were frightened. That wasn’t my intention.”

The truth of his words pierced Jill’s soul, and left a resonating peace as their echo faded away. Robert Schumann hadn’t lost his gift after all. And neither had she.

Robert lifted his face to the sky, and then lowered it to catch her in a joyful gaze. “I’ve been sent to deliver a message.” He raised a hand and placed it on her head. Soothing warmth spread through her at the contact, calming her fears. “One day, when your time here is finished, you’ll hear these words from the Master himself. For now, I carry his message to you: Well done.”

The words fell on her ears with the softness of a caress. Jill’s heart leaped in her chest at the sound of them. “I did the right thing?”

Tears sprang to Jill’s eyes at the tenderness in his answer. “You did the right thing. Your Father is most happy with you. He loves you. And one day he will delight in hearing you play in the most glorious concert of all eternity. There’s music to be played that only you can play, for the most important Audience of all.”

Joy illuminated his face. Seeing it, sunshine flooded Jill’s soul. “An eternal concert.” Awe reduced her voice to a whisper.

Robert’s smile deepened. “But not yet, child. Your song here hasn’t ended. There are many stanzas yet to play.”

He lifted a hand in a blessing, and a delicious serenity washed through her body. She closed her eyes in the moment before his finger touched her forehead —

— and gasped at the searing pain of breath flooding her air-starved lungs. She choked and coughed, and drew another breath. She was cold, colder than she’d ever been, as cold as a frozen grave. Sharp pebbles pressed through snow into her back, and the sound of the surf pounding on a rocky shore filled her ears. In the distance, sirens wailed. An uncontrollable shiver took possession of her body as she drew in a third life-giving breath.

“Thank you, God.” Sobs constricted a familiar voice nearby. “She’s alive.”

Lifting her eyelids took every ounce of strength she possessed. When she did, a beloved face loomed inches above hers. Greg. Her lips still tingled with the touch of his, when he’d breathed life back into her.

“You’re alive.” She coughed, inhaled, and tried again. “You made it.”

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he gathered her in his arms. “So did you. Thank God, so did you.”

Drawing a deep breath, she focused on his eyes, eyes that held more love than she could process. “I did the right thing, Greg. He said I did the right thing.”

“Who said? No, don’t get up. Help is on its way.”

“He said,” she murmured and then she fell silent. She could share the glorious message later. For now, it was enough to draw warmth from Greg’s arms around her, supporting her as he had done throughout this entire ordeal. Whether Robert was an angel or a myth didn’t matter. The truth of his message resonated in her soul. Well done.