Abby sat bolt upright in bed, her heart roaring in her ears until she focused on the early morning sunlight filtering through the window. The dream had come again. Josh called to her from the darkness, begging her, pulling her from what little sleep she got these days. The dream came less often since she’d moved, but it was no less terrifying than the first time it had invaded her dreams.
She slipped on her robe and ran her hands over her arms, trying desperately to calm the goose bumps on her flesh. “Damn it! It’s cold!”
A nice fire will chase away this chill.
The large rock fireplace graced almost an entire wall and fit perfectly with the huge living space. She loved it. This house was her home now, but the cold dampness of Wyoming in the winter chilled her to the bone. She thought she’d gotten over cold winters a long time ago. After all, she was born and raised in the northeast. Cold shouldn’t bother her.
“What the hell possessed me to move to Wyoming?” Before the words left her mouth, she knew the answer. Wyoming held everything opposite of her life in New York. After Josh’s death on September 11
th
, she had to leave. It had taken just over a year and a lot of soul searching, but she made the decision to change everything about her life. Starting over without Joshua had to be the hardest thing she’d ever faced, but face it she would.
Stacking the dry kindling on the grate before she laid several logs on top, she struck a match. She held the flame next to the newspaper underneath and waited for it to catch, and illuminate the room.
She knew no one in Wyoming. She had actually never left New York except for her cousin’s wedding once in the south, but at the time, it seemed like the thing to do. Now—she wasn’t so sure.
Everyone in New York thought she had lost her mind, and maybe she had, but they didn’t know the dream she held in her heart. Josh would forever be there, she knew, but it was time to live again. She just couldn’t do that in New York, not with the memories. Everything there screamed of his presence and his love for her. Here, everything sang of freshness and new beginnings. Here, she could do what she had always longed to do, even when they lived in the city—breed horses. She and Josh always talked about moving somewhere and buying some land. Now she would fulfill their dream, her dream.
For months after that faithful day, she had always hoped, and until they finally called off the searches and changed to recovery, her hope had never waned. They never found his body, and she had nothing to bury, so for her, moving to Wyoming was a way to heal her heart. Giving away most of his things helped, but the only way for her to move on had to be moving away, far away from everyone and everything she knew.
Abby twisted the wedding ring she still wore as her thoughts returned to her new life. She stretched her hands toward the flames in front of her, hoping to absorb the warmth into her cold fingers. After a couple of moments, she turned so her back was to the flames as she let the heat penetrate the coldness that seemed to have infused her whole body.
I need something, coffee—that’s it.
Leaving the warmth of the fire behind, she headed to the kitchen. She leaned against the counter after she set up the coffee and waited while the coffee pot sputtered. When it finished, she poured a cup and doused it with her standard hot chocolate and cream and headed back to the fireplace. The big leather chair beckoned her with his soft cushion and warm blanket lying across the back. It was her favorite spot in the house—in front of the fire, a good book in her hands.
Sipping from the cup, she let her mind wander while she turned the pages. It wasn’t long before she drifted off to sleep.
Abby opened her eyes an hour later to find the fire in the grate had burned down to a few embers.
I must have fallen asleep in the chair.
Pulling herself up with a heavy sigh, she twisted sideways to loosen the muscles in her back. Falling asleep in the chair hadn’t been a good idea.
Abby.
She spun around, as her gaze darted around the room, searching each corner and crevice. A frown pulled down the corners of her mouth and she shook her head.
I’m not doing this again. He’s not here. He’s gone. He died in New York.
Only one other time, in their apartment in New York, she was sure she’d heard her name whispered softly in her ear.
Abby.
The whisper came again, and fear clutched at her chest.
I’m not crazy—he can’t be here.
The rustling sound came from the doorway to the spare bedroom. She blinked and squinted, trying to bring the shape into focus.
A terrified whimper left her mouth when the figure became clearer.
“Josh?”
He stood in front of her in his bunker gear, minus the helmet. His blue eyes seemed to look right through her. She blinked several times.
I know he’s not really here, he can’t be.
Abby.
She took a tentative step in his direction when his hand reached for her. Her eyes filled with tears and a sob choked her throat.
I love you, Abigail.
He started to fade.
“Wait! No! Joshua, don’t you leave me again.”
You need to love again, Abby—here—in Wyoming.
Chills pimpled the skin on her arms as she reached out to him. He faded from her sight, but the smell of his cologne lingered in the air. She sank to the floor as gut-wrenching sobs shook her shoulders.
She buried her face in her hands and whimpered, “I can’t love anyone but you Josh. I can’t.”
Yes, you can, Abby. He’s here. Find him.
His voice faded on the whistle of the wind outside.
Abby sat on the floor in the doorway for what seemed like hours. She couldn’t move, didn’t want to. She wanted to embrace the fact that Josh had come to her and let it wrap itself around her heart.
If I stay right here, maybe he’ll come back.
The phone rang with a shrill jingle. She ignored it until the answering machine picked up and her mother’s voice met her ears.
“Abigail, answer the phone. I know you’re there. I need to talk to you.”
She wearily pulled herself up and shuffled to the phone.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
“I just had a feeling. You know how I get.”
“Yeah, Mom, I know. You’ve told me for years how sensitive you are.” She frowned when something tickled her brain until she shook her head trying to clear it.
“Did something happen, Abby? You sound strange.”
She couldn’t tell her mother she’d seen Josh, or maybe she could. No, her mother would think she’d lost her mind again.
“No, I’m okay. Listen, I need to go. I have to run into town and get some supplies before the snow gets any worse. We are supposed to have a blizzard in the next couple of days.”
“All right, Abby, but be careful.”
“I’ll be fine. Talk to you soon.”
“I love you, Abigail.”
Words stuck in her throat for a moment at her mother’s expression, the same one Josh had whispered so many times. “I love you too, Mom.”
She dropped the phone on the cradle and hung her head for a moment before she headed to her bedroom to change her clothes.
When she returned to the living room a short time later, she grabbed her parka and the keys to her Jeep. She pulled open the door as a blast of cold air swirled around her.
No need to lock the doors around here. I’m the only idiot out in this weather.
Abby forced the door of her Jeep open against the howling wind and slid inside. The engine rolled over with little trouble and she slowly pulled out onto the highway. She crept along slowly since the roads were slick, but she was used to that. New York sanded the roads very early in the morning, but not here.
The snow blew against the windshield, and she turned the wipers on high in a blind attempt to see more than fifty feet in front of her.
The blizzard wasn’t supposed to come in for a couple more days. You’d think it was here now with how hard it’s snowing.
Gripping the steering wheel tightly with her gloved hands, she squinted, trying to see. She muttered under her breath how stupid she felt for coming out in this weather in the first place.
A truck passed her moving in the other direction, splattering her windshield with mud, snow and ice. She flipped on the washer fluid, trying to clear away the smears. The windshield cleared long enough for terror to grip her chest when a huge, black truck veered into her lane.
“Oh my God!” She jerked the steering wheel to her right as a scream ripped from her throat.
The Jeep flipped twice before coming to a sickening stop, landing on its top in a snow bank.
* * * *
The radio at his waist crackled before he heard the voice say, “Roll over accident on highway 210, just off Telephone Road junction. Probable injuries.”
Chase Wilder grabbed his heavy jacket off the corral fence post. He’d been working with a mare, but with the radio dispatch, headed for his truck. The accident was close, too close, and he knew the area well enough to know it could be anything, even a fatality.
This time of year was bad, especially with more and more people moving into the area and buying up the land. Most didn’t know how to drive in the snow they had in Wyoming.
Born and raised in Laramie, he knew how many people lost their lives on the roads in the winter. They either would crash and not be found before they froze to death or just die in the accident. He had lost his wife in a similar fashion a couple of years ago. She was hit by a semi on the interstate in a snowstorm and died in the initial impact.
After that, he became a volunteer for the fire department and a first responder to the outlying areas. He did what he could when he got to the scene, stabilizing the patient before the paramedics could get there.
Pushing the talk button on his radio, his voice crackled to the dispatcher, “I’m on my way.”
“Thanks, Chase. The others are headed there, too.”
The snow came down hard in front of his truck making it difficult to go very fast. It still didn’t take long for him to reach the crash site, and what he found chilled him straight through his heart. A newer Jeep Cherokee with New York plates lay on its top in a snow bank about fifteen feet off the road. He scrambled out of his pickup truck and slipped on his coat and gloves. He trudged through the knee deep snow in a desperate race to see if the occupant was still alive.
Digging with his hands, he shoveled the snow away from the driver’s window so he could see inside. When he finally reached the glass, he wiped away the snow and peered in. Hanging upside down by her seatbelt was a woman in her late twenties, he guessed. Her eyes were closed and a small trickle of blood oozed from the wound on her head. He couldn’t be sure if she was breathing.
His gaze moved to the shattered window behind her.
Punching at the remaining glass with his gloved hands, he pulled the shards away in order to reach her. He slipped through the window and positioned himself behind her. The blare of sirens wailed in the distance telling him help was close.
She moaned softly.
Thank God! At least she’s alive.
“Ma’am. Can you hear me?”
She moaned again and turned toward him.
Chase pulled his gloves off and slipped his hands around the back of her seat. Placing them along her neck, he spanned the warm flesh, stabilizing it as best he could until the others got there.
She shivered under his touch.
His arms began to ache and burn, but he could hear the rescuers coming closer.
“Chase?”
“Here!”
“So what do we have?”
“Not sure. I found her like this. There is a wound to her head and I’ve stabilized her neck the best I can from here.”
The firefighter poked his head through the opening and said, “Damn man. You get yourself in most precarious positions.”
“Just get her out, okay? Worry about me afterwards.”
The rescuers started shoveling the snow away from the sides of the vehicle. The door was jammed shut, so even with the jaws of life it wouldn’t budge. They were going to have to break the driver’s window and slide her out.
Another rescuer slipped a blanket inside along Chase’s side.
“I’m going to cover you and her so we can break the glass.”
“Do it.” His arms trembled from holding them so stiff, but he wouldn’t let go—he couldn’t—even if his own life depended on it. He dropped his head under the blanket, and leaned close to her ear. “It’ll be okay. I’m right here.” He didn’t know whether she heard him or not, but the reassurance made him feel better.
Glass shattered around them, sending pieces flying in all directions, but only a few pieces hit his back. The men pulled out what remained and put another blanket across the shards littering the casing of her window.