Ragan's Song (Fairfield Corners #2) (2 page)

Chapter 3

Standing in the doorway with Skylar in his arms, Adam called for his daughter. “Jenna, where are you?” She ran into the kitchen from the back of the house.

“Jenna, this is Skylar. I need you to watch him for a few minutes,” Adam explained at the questions in her eyes. “His mom is out in the truck. They had an accident.”

“Sure, Dad,” she said as she led Skylar into the living room.

Adam returned to the truck for Ragan and gently lowered her onto the couch before he picked up the house phone. He let out the breath he’d been holding when he heard a dial tone. He called 911, shifting his balance from one foot to the other as he toed off his soggy boots. Waiting for the dispatcher to answer, he shivered from his own wet clothes and wondered if he would ever get warm.

“Fairfield County nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”

The sound of the dispatcher’s voice calmed the fear in his heart. “This is Adam Bricklin on County Road 94. There’s been an accident, and we need an ambulance out here,” he said, a lump forming in his throat at the thought of what could have happened.

“Adam, it’s Monica. What type of accident? Was anyone injured?”

“A car slid off the road and ended up in the river. The driver is unconscious. There was also a small child in the car, but he seems to be fine.”

“All the ambulances are out on a run to a major accident on I-69. I can send paramedics from Noble County, but with the snow, it’ll take them at least forty minutes to reach your location; maybe longer.”

He heard the clicking of computer keys as Monica typed in her report. “Are there any obvious life-threatening injuries?” she asked.

“The driver’s injuries don’t look too bad. Maybe a broken ankle and a pretty good lump on the head. She might need some stitches.” He brushed the hair off Ragan’s forehead to get a better look at the gash and swelling around it. She started to shiver again, and Adam snatched the blanket off the back of the couch, draping it over her with his free hand.
Let’s get this over with so I can get her warmed up.

“The next available ambulance will be sent to your location.”

“Thanks, Monica. Is Logan there? Can I talk to him?”

“I believe so. Hold on, I’ll transfer your call to him.”

Adam rubbed Ragan’s arms with the blanket, trying to warm her.

“Adam? Monica said you called for an ambulance?” Logan’s voice sounded pinched with concern.

“Yeah, a car went in the river across the road from the house. I got the driver and her son out. I didn’t want you to worry if someone mentioned it to you,” Adam kept his explanation short.

“What’s wrong, Adam? There’s something you’re not telling me. Are you sure you’re okay?” his cousin persisted.

“I’m fine,” Adam growled, “I just need to get out of these wet clothes.”

“Okay. I’ll call you when an ambulance is headed your way. Stay safe,” Logan said before he hung up the phone.

Adam glared down at Ragan, wondering why she had left, and what had brought her back after more than three years. Picking her up carefully so as not to disturb her ankle, he carried her down the hall and into his bedroom. Annoyed, he pushed the bitterness to the back of his mind so he could take care of her injuries. After depositing her on his bed he hurried to the kitchen to grab the kitchen shears out of the drawer, his only thought to get her out of her wet clothes and warmed up as quickly a possible.

After cutting off her wet sweater and jeans, he dried her with a towel and massaged her arms and legs to rub some warmth into her chilled skin. Once her flesh felt less clammy, he worked one of his t-shirts over her damp head and into place over the undergarments he had been reluctant to remove.

Putting her into his bed, he sat on the edge next to her to clean the cut on her forehead. The ugly gash made his stomach churn as he covered it with a butterfly bandage. He tucked the blankets in around her neck, relieved to see some color coming back into her face. His thumb brushed along her cheekbone as the love he had once felt for her resurfaced.

Stepping into the shower to warm up, he finally let the memories flow. The hot water pummeled his back as he remembered their tumultuous four-month relationship, wondering where it had all gone wrong…

Chapter 4

The familiar ache in his chest returned as he thought of their first meeting in the ICU waiting room. The ache had been his constant companion for three years, until he crawled out of the pit of despair and realized she was gone for good. Other than an occasional vague email to Cassie, it was as if she had dropped off the face of the planet.

From that first day he had known she was different from the obsessed groupies he was used to dealing with. Her face was a beacon of light that cut through the haze of worry and sleeplessness in the ICU waiting room, drawing him in and reminding him there was a world outside the walls of the hospital.

Her bravado crumbled when Cassie left the waiting room for her hourly visit to Logan’s room, her downcast eyes riveted on the phone in her hand. One tear tracked down her cheek as he watched. Reaching out, he brushed it away with his thumb. “He’s going to pull through this.”

She looked up, blinking as more tears threatened to fall. “I hope so. I don’t know how Cassie would handle losing him; it’s only been a few months since her gram died. She’s not as strong as she pretends to be.”

He pulled her into his arms. It felt so natural for her to be there against him as the melody played in his head.

The ache in his chest increased as the memory of them played out. He felt the rush of new love as they spent time together at Cassie and Logan’s place; helping out with driving Logan to his PT appointments and making sure a pregnant Cassie didn’t overdo it. If he had known their time together would be so short, he wouldn’t have waited weeks to kiss her. The kitchen had smelled of tomato sauce and oregano the first time he did, the sauce for the lasagna bubbling away as he feasted on her lips.

“Wow,” she gasped as she looked up at him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “Why’d you wait so long?”

Instead of answering, he kissed her again, while considering if it was too soon to put a ring on her finger. “I wanted you to know that you’re special; not just another face in another town. With all the time I’ve spent on tour, I haven’t exactly been a saint; but no one has ever affected me the way you do.”

Their passion had burned bright, bathing everyone around them in the glow of their love. Blinded by the intensity of their relationship, he had ignored the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Standing in the safety of his shower, he allowed the memory to draw him further in, to the night he finally put his finger on it, and had tossed their future aside.

He could almost see himself sitting on a tall stool at the local pub. The rain lashed at the windows, matching his mood perfectly as he motioned to the bartender for another shot. Staring at the envelope lying on the bar in front of him, it had been four weeks, and this was the first proof he had that she wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He couldn’t believe that she had left the night he went to Atlanta after receiving an emergency phone call. No goodbye note, no text, no email, nothing… until this envelope arrived.

“C’mon, Mike. where’s that drink?” he yelled, having already tossed back five or six shots.

“You sure you want another?” the bartender asked. “Looks like you’ve had enough already.”

“Just get me that drink and a pen!” The ring he’d been carrying around since before he left for Atlanta seemed to be burning a hole in his pocket, so he pulled it out and put it on the bar next to the envelope.

Mike handed him a pen and turned around to grab a bottle of whiskey.

Picking up the pen, Adam wrote
Return to Sender
across the front of the envelope, and then turned it over and wrote on the back in big block letters,
AND DON’T COME BACK.

Mike poured him another shot. “Do you want me to call Logan to come get you?”

Adam stood and grabbed his coat and the envelope, leaving the ring lying on the bar, “No, I’m fine.”

“Hey, give me your keys. You’ve had too much to drink to be driving.”

“Whatever,” Adam mumbled as he tossed his keys on the bar before weaving towards the door.

“What about this?” Mike asked as he held up the small velvet box.

“I don’t care what you do with it. Keep it,” he slurred.

Adam stumbled out the exit, surprised to find that the sun had gone down and the streets were quiet. He staggered down the sidewalk towards his house; the house where they had spent so much time together. It wasn’t very big, but it was big enough for Adam and his daughter until his new house was finished. He had hoped to share it with Ragan, too; but she had gone by the time he returned from Atlanta.

As he walked past the post office, he realized he still had the letter in his hand. Slouching over the mailbox, he steadied himself as he shoved the letter in the slot. “There, that’s done. Hope that bitch stays away forever,” he mumbled before continuing down the street towards his empty house.

Chapter 5

Skylar’s giggles penetrated the darkness and pulled Ragan back to consciousness.
What happened?
She opened her eyes slowly, groaning at the pain in her head. The unfamiliar surroundings made her heart beat faster as she scanned the room. The jumbled sequence of events she could recall gave her no clue as to her location. Vague memories settled into a pattern; the snowstorm, the deer, everything tumbling and twirling around, and then Skylar’s cries.
Where’s Sky? Where’s my baby?

The world tilted when she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, her eyes filled with tears. She pushed herself up and off the bed, thoughts of Skylar also being hurt running through her mind. Her breath quickened as panic set in, making her oblivious to the pain in her ankle as she limped toward the door.

Stumbling across the floor, she put her hand out as her vision blurred and she lurched to the right, her arms flailing to keep her balance. Unable to go any further, she crumpled, dragging a guitar and its stand down with her and banging it against the hardwood floor. “Skylar,” she whispered as she lay her head on the floor and wept in frustration.

Finished rubbing the towel through his hair, Adam tossed it into the hamper next to the bathroom door. He wiped the steam off the mirror and stared at his reflection, wondering what had brought her back to town. After running his fingers through his damp strands a few times, he reached for the doorknob, pulling it open as a loud crash came from the bedroom. Rushing in, he found Ragan lying on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks. Kneeling next to her, he brushed the hair out of her face. “Ragan?”

“Adam? What’s going on?” she demanded between sobs.

He watched the change in her expression as memories of her rescue came back to her. He picked her up and tucked her back in bed.

She glared up at him, tears still flowing. “You rescued us. Is Skylar okay?”

“He’s fine. His car seat kept him from getting hurt. He was just scared.” Adam again moved the hair off her forehead and checked the bandage. Contact with her skin made his fingertips tingle. “An ambulance will be here soon to take you to the hospital,” he reassured her as he turned his back on her. Picking up his cell phone off the dresser, he slipped it in his pocket.

“How’s the head? Any double vision or nausea?” he asked as he turned to look into her eyes. “You’ve got a pretty good lump on your forehead and a fairly deep gash. You must have hit the window.”

“It’s not too bad, but I do have a headache. How did you find us?”

“I was plowing my driveway and saw the accident. What in the world were you thinking? Driving through a snowstorm with a child in the car. Are you completely out of your mind?” he demanded, his voice gradually growing louder. He could see the anger on her features and realized his comments had sounded as if she would deliberately put her son’s life in jeopardy.

“It wasn’t snowing when I left Indianapolis at four o’clock, thank you very much. The storm came up fast, and I thought I could get to town before it got too bad.” Tears spilled down her face again. “I guess I was wrong.”

Adam brushed them with his thumb. “Don’t cry, Baby. I was there, and you’re both safe.” He grimaced when he realized he had called her Baby; his pet name for her when they were together. He abruptly changed the subject. “I’ll go get your son,” he turned and walked out of the room, calling for Jenna.

He found the pair in the game room watching an old Road Runner cartoon, with Skylar eating dry Cheerios out of a bowl with his hands like popcorn. Adam chuckled at Wiley E. Coyote’s attempt to catch the Road Runner, marveling at how life was so much simpler for a kid.

After Adam left the room, Ragan’s mind wandered to his rescuing her from the car.
Why did it have to be him?
When she looked into his piercing blue eyes, she knew he still had her heart. The memories and the visions swirled in her mind, blending the real and the imagined. They included good times they had spent together, the vision of their wedding dance, and then an image of burying him as his daughter held her hand.
Thank God that last one didn’t come true
. If she had known he still lived in town, she wouldn’t have come back;
the vision might still happen.

She looked around the room again. Having been made aware that the house belonged to Adam, his personality marked everything, including the artwork and color choices. On a night stand sat a wooden picture frame with a photo of Adam and a pretty blonde in an embrace. It caught her attention; the thought of him with someone else sent a dull pain through her chest.
Get over it, Ragan. He obviously moved on
.

Her arms had goose bumps and she rubbed them, wondering what had happened to the sweater she’d been wearing. Realizing she currently wore one of Adam’s t-shirts, a bright blush covered her face at the thought of his undressing her. There had been a time when she looked forward to that, and his gentle touch; but not now. Not after everything that had happened.

Jenna entered the bedroom holding Skylar’s hand. “Mama,” he cried, running to her as fast as his legs would go. Right behind them, Adam scooped him up and set him on the bed next to Ragan. Snuggled up to her, he shoved his thumb in his mouth, and she hugged him tight, thankful he wasn’t hurt.

“Hey, little man; you been behaving?”

“Yes, Mama. Jenna gave me O’s.” This made her smile. To Skylar, everything could be fixed with his favorite cereal.

Looking from Skylar’s face to Jenna’s, she could see the resemblance.
How long would it be before Adam noticed?
Pushing that thought to the back of her mind, she turned to Adam, tears filling her eyes again at the idea of what could have happened.

“Come on, Skylar. Your Mama needs to get some rest. Why don’t we find you something more to eat?”

“No, stay wif Mama,” Skylar cried, climbing into Ragan’s lap. “No eat.”

“Sorry,” Ragan said as she rubbed his back. “He’s overly tired and cranky. Skylar, go with Jenna and have some dinner. If you’re good, I’ll read you a story later.” That seemed to placate him; he loved story time. Ragan turned her attention to Adam as he put Skylar on the floor, wondering what the last couple of years had done to give him that scowl. She didn’t want to ask for fear that it was her fault.

“I’m going to go call Logan and check on the status of the ambulance. Are you okay for now?” he asked. He had more questions, but let them go unasked. At her nod, he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Ragan remembered that day three years ago; the day she had ended their relationship and left town. Finding out that Adam had an ex-wife and a daughter had given her the perfect excuse. She had convinced herself that it was for the best, and no one knew what had caused her to run, not even her family. She blinked back tears and stifled a sob as the real reason she had left him crowded her thoughts.

Lost in memories, she jumped with a start when Adam re-entered the room. Ragan hoped he wouldn’t see the torment in her eyes. “The ambulance should be here in about ten minutes. Let’s get you ready to go,” he said as he dropped a pair of sweatpants on the bed. “You can wear these. I had to cut your jeans and sweater to get them off. They were soaked with ice cold water and I needed to get you warmed up.” He grabbed a pair of socks out of a dresser drawer. “Do you need some help getting them on?”

“I should be able to handle it.” Ragan pulled the covers up to her chin as if to shield herself from his gaze. “Adam, thank you for rescuing us. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t seen us slide down the embankment.”

“Glad I could help,” he said, turning his head when he heard a faint siren in the distance. “Sounds like your ride is almost here. I better go make sure your son is ready to go.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he had gone, Ragan let the tears fall. She had convinced herself she was over him, but as soon as she saw his face out there in the storm, she knew she still loved him. Sitting up, she reached for the sweatpants;
whoa, too quickly.
Her head spun, making her vision go grey at the edges. She gritted her teeth and leaned forward to put one leg into the sweatpants before she passed out.