Miracle in the Mist (28 page)

He smiled sadly. "That I did, Clara, but this is one memory that Carrie suppressed herself long before she came to us. A memory that I have no control over. She is the only one with the power to free it. When she does, she'll need someone." He paused. "I think I'd better pay a visit to Steve and Meghan."

***

Frank settled himself on his sofa with a beer and switched the TV to the Weather Channel to watch the local forecast.

"All you commuters better plan on leaving early for work tomorrow," the attractive young woman on the screen warned. "The blizzard that is just starting to hit the city is expected to last the rest of the day and into the night. Total accumulation should be in the neighborhood of ten to twelve inches before the storm system moves off to the northeast. The roads will be treacherous, so stay home unless you absolutely have to go out."

Frank glanced out the window at the inch or so of accumulated snow on his car. Not that he cared one way or the other. He had nowhere to go. He wasn't due back at the hospital until Monday. He had an entire weekend to do what he'd been doing constantly since he'd left the village: think about Carrie. Wonder what she was doing and if she needed him. Hope that she'd soon find the answers to her lost memory and come to him. Even after Sandy's death, he hadn't felt this lonely, this desolate. That was no disrespect to Sandy. Before Carrie came into his life, he hadn't believed love was again possible for him, and now he knew how precious it was. He knew what he'd lost with Sandy. Now he knew what he had found with Carrie. It was real, and he yearned for it. There seemed to be a gaping chasm inside him that couldn't be filled. He'd always loved his work, and it had always fulfilled him, but even that held no appeal for him now.

He took a long drink from the bottle of beer and set it on the coffee table. Steve had told him he'd know when Carrie left, and he'd been waiting every day for a sign with his nerves stretched out like a rubber band. Every flutter put him on alert to feel more. But more never came. Every day blurred into the next, and she was still there, and he was still here.

He started to lean back when it happened. A sharp tightening in his chest, almost like having a heart attack, but there was no pain. His heart clenched, then seemed to swell and pulsate harder. His chest grew tighter as though a steel band was wrapped around it.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, trying to catch his breath. When the pressure lessened a bit, he gulped in deep breaths, but the sensations persisted. His head grew light, and his vision seemed fuzzy and dotted with white specks of bright light. Seconds later, his vision went totally white.

My God
, he thought,
I'm going blind
!

But just as suddenly as the whiteness came, it dissipated. When it had cleared, what he saw was not his living room. It was a small footbridge spanning a narrow, gurgling stream. Everything on his side was crystal clear, but on the other side, the fog was thick enough to walk on.

As though someone had jabbed him with a stick to prod his memory, he knew instantly what the scene reminded him of. The footbridge leading out of Renaissance. He stopped fighting whatever had come over him and waited, his breath held, his heart pounding erratically in his chest, his mind's eye glued to the bridge.

Then the fog stirred as though someone had run their hand through it. It swirled and pulsed. Light emanated from inside it. Then, looking like an invisible knife had sliced it open, it parted.

Three people stepped onto the bridge. He barely saw two of them. It was the third person who captured Frank's attention and held it unwaveringly.

Carrie
!

She was leaving Renaissance. Frank grabbed his keys and jacket and ran out to his car. He had no idea where he was going. Hopefully, whatever was telling him that she was leaving the mist would guide him to her.

***

Carrie wrapped her coat around her shivering body. The snow blowing down her collar chilled her to the bone. She'd gotten too used to the perpetual spring of Renaissance. She squinted and peered into the night to see exactly where she was, but the driving snow made it hard to see much more than a few feet beyond her.

The brief stop Alvin, Ellie, and she had made at the Gateway Cabin had warmed her enough to get to Steve's car. Then his heater had kept her cozy until he'd deposited the three of them here on the deserted streets of Tarrytown. Alvin and Ellie had left her with a reassurance that everything would be okay, and then they hurried off into the night to start their honeymoon.

When she'd protested, they'd told her to stay there and wait. For what? If she had to wait too long, she'd surely freeze to death in the biting cold, and then she would be no help to her sister at all. She'd just about decided to start walking to find shelter when a car's headlights cut through the opaque wall of white.

The car crept along toward her, eventually coming to a stop beside her. For a moment her heart jumped into her throat. Was it Dan? Had he doubled back and found her? No. It wasn't Dan's car. Then who?

Then the door flew open, and Frank jumped out. A smile split her face.

Before she could even say anything, he had scooped her into a bear hug while he rained kisses all over her face. He set her away from him and looked at her as if it had been years since they'd last met. Of course, it hadn't been, but it certainly felt that way to Carrie.

"How did you know where to find me?" she asked, returning his kisses.

"Your love guided me, just like Steve said it would." Frank held her face in the palms of his hands and looked her over as though he was unable to believe she was actually there. When he touched her forehead, she winced in pain. "You're hurt." Frank ran his fingers gently over the cut in her forehead, then the rest of her face, as though testing her flesh to make sure she wasn't injured anywhere else.

She stopped his hand. "It's just a cut where I fell and bumped my head. I'm fine." Forcing her nearly numb fingers to work, she touched his dear face. "And you? How are you?"

He grinned. "Right now, I couldn't be better." He pulled her to him and whispered against her hair. "I was terrified that I'd never see you again."

Tears of happiness burned at the back of her eyes. She had so much to tell him, especially one very important thing. But it would have to wait.

Reluctantly, she gently eased away, then opened her mouth to speak just as a convulsive shiver vibrated through her.

"You're freezing. Get in the car," he said, wrapping his arm around her and guiding her toward his idling vehicle.

For a moment, after the car door had closed behind her, her skin tingled from the sudden onslaught of warmth. By the time Frank had joined her, her body had absorbed the warmth thrown out by the car's heater.

She swung around sideways to face him. Not giving him a chance to say anything first, she blurted out, "I need to get to my sister. I think she's dead or dying."

Confusion claimed Frank's features, melting away the happiness in his eyes. "Your sister?"

"Yes, my twin. She's the one I've been seeing in my dreams. Her husband is the faceless man, and he beat her badly. I was going for help when you found me."

At that moment, Frank's gaze dropped to her blouse. She looked down to see what had captured his attention. Her blouse and skirt were red with blood. Cathy's blood. Her urgency grew stronger.

"We have to go
now
, Frank, before it's too late. Please."

"But the blood—"

"It's Cathy's. Please."

Frank took her cold hand in his. His skin was so warm it almost burned her. "First things first." He released her hand and pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket. As he punched in 9-1-1, he asked, "Where is your sister?"

"At the farm on Whitman Road." She knew once she could confide in Frank, things would be better.

"This is Dr. Frank Donovan; I need an ambulance to go to Whitman Road." He raised his gaze to Carrie. "What's the house number?"

"763."

He repeated the number sequence into the phone, then folded it, threw it on the seat, and put the car in gear. While he drove, Carrie filled him in on what had happened that night. He listened, his anger at this man even stronger now that the bastard had a face and an identity. He had no respect for or understanding of a man who beat up a woman just so he could prove his masculinity and dominance. He'd seen too many victims of such treatment.

He'd take care of the son of a bitch when he met him face to face. Right now, he had to get them to the farm in one piece. The roads were almost impassable, reminding him of another snowy night when he'd navigated through a blinding snowstorm.

Gaze glued to the road, Frank prayed silently that they'd make it safely to the farm and wouldn't end up being another pickup for the ambulance. Determinedly, he blocked that thought out. No sense borrowing trouble. Still, his heart raced so loudly he wondered that Carrie didn't hear it. His pulse throbbed in his temple. His tightly clenched jaw felt as though it would break.

"Frank."

He didn't look at her, but he could hear the hesitation in her voice. "What, sweetheart?"

"This is probably not the best time to tell you this, but in case anything happens, I want you to know."

Frank felt the blood drain from his face.
In case anything happens
? He gripped the steering wheel tighter. Dread settled over him in a dark, cold cloak. "Nothing's going to happen. Right now I need to concentrate on getting us to your sister. We can talk later."

"I… we… Okay… later." She cleared her throat and turned to look out the window into the dense snowfall.

For a moment, Frank lost all feeling in his body. What was it she had to tell him? That she really didn't love him? That their time in Renaissance had been an interlude during which she relied on him for lack of anyone else to cling to? That her love had been nothing more than gratitude?

He opened his mouth to speak, but the car caught the side of the pavement and slid sideways. He jerked the steering wheel in the direction of the skid, and the car righted its path once again. He exhaled a deep, relieved breath.

My God, how cruel could fate be to put him back in this situation again? The woman he loved more than his own life beside him, and the worst storm in history raging outside the car. Instinctively, he let up on the gas. Then his worst nightmare loomed ahead of them. His blood froze in his veins.

Barely visible through the thickly falling snow, a substantial rise in the road came into view. The rise was not unlike the one he and Sandy had driven up the night of the accident. Frank slowed the car even more. Now they were barely moving. He knew they'd never make the hill unless he stepped on the gas, but he couldn't get his foot to obey. He reminded himself that Carrie's sister needed them, but still his foot refused to move.

"Frank? Why are we stopping?"

He could hear Carrie's terrified voice coming from the far fringes of his mind. But he could not make his vocal cords work. All he could do was stare numbly out the windshield and curse the fates for letting this happen again. The wipers slapped back and forth in a monotonous rhythm, clearing a path so he could see that damned hill.

Faith and trust, Frank. Faith and trust
.

Emanuel's reminder roused him from his fear-induced trance.

"Frank. Why are we stopping?" Carrie's voice had become panicky.

"We aren't stopping. I… I just slowed down because of the road conditions." Not totally untrue. How did he tell her he was too terrified to move? How could he tell her he was scared to death that he'd…

No! He couldn't think that way. What happened with Sandy was an accident, a separate incident that had nothing to do with Carrie. But he realized that the tension coiled in his stomach like a snake was not due to any residual guilt, but just plain fright. The roads were treacherous; it was perfectly reasonable that he'd be scared and cautious.

The apprehension coiled in the pit of his stomach eased. He concentrated on resuming their trip. After all, Carrie's sister's life might depend on them. Finally he pressed his foot gently on the accelerator, and the car inched forward. Little by little, it gained speed and managed to ease up the hill with little trouble.

When they reached the crest of the hill, Frank took a deep breath. So far, so good. Now to make it down the other side. As he stared down the hill through the blizzard, headlights of an oncoming car broke through the wall of snow.

Chapter 24

Very slowly Frank eased the car over the crest of the hill and started down the other side. The oncoming headlights grew closer and closer. Frank's sweaty palms clenched the wheel in a death grip.

Carrie said nothing. From the corner of his eye, he saw her stiffen as they started downward. Her hands were tightly clasped in her lap.

"We'll make it. I just have to take it easy. I know you're scared for your sister, and I really wish we could move faster." He wasn't sure she'd heard, but he kept talking in an effort to ease her apprehension. "It's just too dangerous, and we won't do Cathy any good if we get in an accident or end up stuck in a snowbank."

Casting a quick look in her direction, he saw her body relax and her hands come unclasped. Feeling his own nerves unwind a bit, he directed his attention back to the hazardous road.

She turned to him, patted his thigh, and said, "I know."

Those two words seemed to imbue Frank with the confidence he needed to get to the bottom of the hill and past the oncoming vehicle. As the headlights slid past them, he risked another glance at Carrie. She had grown silent, and her forehead was furrowed in a frown. Without taking his gaze from the road, he touched her arm.

"She'll be fine."

She nodded wordlessly.

A few miles later Carrie came to attention. "There." She pointed toward faint houselights set back a bit from the side of the road. Frank could barely see them through the blowing snow. "That's their house."