One Night in the Ice Storm by Noelle Adams Page A

she got the message. He
never called, never came by, and acted like she didn’t exist when they happened
to encounter each other around town.
    Rachel
had been heartbroken, but she’d understood exactly what happened.
    She’d
never meant anything to David, no matter how much her teenaged stupidity had
allowed her to believe he really cared for her. She’d been a way to pass the
time for him during a slow summer. Once he’d gotten what he wanted from her,
he’d moved on without hesitation.
    The
memory of that summer—his laughter, the weight of his arm around her shoulders,
the feel of him moving inside her with so much care, the look in his eyes when
he’d come—still had the power to make her eyes ache, her chest ache.
    Even
eight years later.
    “I
know he hurt you,” Brad said, the laughter vanished from his voice. “And it
sounds like it hurt you more than I realized. But it’s been over for years. He’s
a really good guy.”
    “A
really good guy wouldn’t have done that to me. I don’t understand how you
expect me to forgive him.”
    “You
don’t understand, Rach. You don’t know—” He broke off abruptly, mid-sentence.
    “Exactly
what don’t I know?”
    “Nothing.
This isn’t the time to talk about it. The point is that David is on his way
there, so keep a lookout for him. Hopefully, the storm will break soon, and Mom
and I can get out there by this evening.”
    “Fine.”
    Rachel
said goodbye and hung up, glancing out through the wide bay window of her
mother’s living room.
    The
sleet was coming down hard now, freezing on whatever surface it touched—the
trees, the grass, the beautifully landscaped stone patio, the long driveway.
    David
was definitely going to be stuck here, she realized. He shouldn’t be on the
roads at all. Not in this kind of ice. It wouldn’t be safe for him to return to
town until the weather improved.
    She
swallowed hard.
    As
if she’d summoned him by her thoughts, she saw his familiar red pickup—the same
one he’d been driving since high school—approaching slowly on the county road
that ran along the far side of the large front yard.
    She’d
sat in the passenger seat of that pickup more times then she could remember,
listening to David talk about his plans for beginning a carpentry business,
singing uninhibitedly to the radio, kissing him for way too long before he
dropped her off in the evenings.
    David
was now one of the most successful contractors in the county, even as young as
he was, but he hadn’t yet given up his old truck.
    As
she watched, the truck started to slip, threatening to spin before David
stabilized it.
    That
road had been bad enough when Rachel arrived a half-hour ago. It must be a
sheet of ice now.
    David
was going slowly, and he made it without further incident until he started to
turn into the long driveway leading up to the house.
    With
virtually no traction, he couldn’t hold the turn, and the truck spun out of
control, ending up nose-first in the ditch.
    Rachel’s
breath had caught in her throat as she watched, but she let it out in a whoosh
when she saw that the damage didn’t look too severe.
    She
waited, expecting to see David try to back the truck out of the ditch, although
she couldn’t imagine he could do so effectively until the ice was gone.
    The
truck didn’t move. The tires didn’t seem to be spinning, although she was too
far away to know for sure.
    She
kept watching, assuming David would now climb out of the truck and walk up to
the house.
    He
didn’t get out, though. For way too long.
    Maybe
he was hurt.
    Without
thinking, she grabbed her new red cashmere coat and threw it on as she hurried
out the side door.
    The
wind was biting cold, and the sleet hit the bare skin of her face like bullets.
She ducked her head and tried to hurry, irrationally scared that David might be
hurt.
    It
hadn’t seemed like a dangerous accident, but then why wasn’t he getting out of
the truck?
    The
driveway was so slick she skated