Page 89 of Steadfast

Maeve allowed Oakleigh to have the final say as she pushed the door open to leave, but she wasn’t ready to let her have the final word.

“And we’re getting a new bell, Oakleigh,” she grinned, flinging the words over her shoulder as she stepped onto Main Street.

A thick, misty fog had rolled through the valley. The streetlights had little effect on brightening her path as she made her way to her truck. Unfortunately, the truck’s dim headlights had even less of an effect. She took the road cautiously through town. When she finally drove across the bridge, she turned onto the highway toward the ranch.

Being unable to see past the hood of the truck was unnerving. Experience told her to turn off the road and textOakleigh to pick her up. Oakleigh’s luxury car was equipped for all kinds of weather and would undoubtedly do better in the soupy fog.

The thought of leaving the truck on the side of the road made her feel uneasy. The mental image of it sitting there reminded her of—that terrible night.

Shaking away the horrible memory, she pushed her foot down on the gas pedal. Surely, there wouldn’t be anyone else foolish enough to be taking the highway that evening. She could find her way home with her eyes closed, which was basically what she had to do anyway.

She felt her mind wander again to the chores left on her list.

Make dinner, fold laundry, finish the grocery list, and—

LIL’ SLIM.

Maeve gasped at the sudden appearance of the little brown and white bull standing in the middle of the road. He was munching on a dandelion that had popped through a crack in the asphalt. His furry head whipped towards the headlights and the sound of the rumbling truck engine.

She reacted before thinking.

Jamming her foot on the brakes, she pulled the steering wheel hard. There was little chance to avoid hitting the animal, but the panic that shot across her chest forced her to try. Feeling the truck tires skid, she pulled the wheel back to correct hertrajectory. It was too little, too late. She had lost control, and the truck was swerving straight for a ditch.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she braced for impact.

With a crunch of metal and the shatter of glass, the truck took a hard roll on its side. Maeve was heaved against the seatbelts, which to her relief, held strong.

There was a moment of stillness as Maeve attempted to shake away her mental fog. The air was filled with the muffled sounds of spinning tires and the softly dying putter of the engine. The bright numbers on the digital radio flickered, and a pungent scent of diesel filled the air.

“I’m fine,” she whispered to herself. “I’ll call Sawyer, and we’ll pull the truck out of the ditch. Everything is going to be okay.”

Get out, Maeve.

The thought flitted through her mind as she felt something wet drip into her eyes. She touched her brow with her fingers and was blinded by a flash of pain that made her wince.

Her eyes went to the blinking green digital numbers on the clock radio as two little bright sparks hissed and sizzled into the air.

“I have to get out,” she mumbled, giving her head another quick shake as she attempted to orient herself.

She pressed the buckle on the seatbelt, but the strap wouldn’t budge. Reaching over, she flipped open the center console and searched for the knife that Abel always kept for emergencies. She could always rely on his preparedness.

Flipping open the blade, she sliced through the belt. Gravity took hold as she fell across the bench seat towards the passenger door. She looked up at the shattered driver’s side window as she gathered her bearings.

There were stars.

“The truck is on its side,” she confirmed. She gripped one hand on the steering wheel and the other to the seat’s fabric. Using all of her strength, she hoisted herself skyward and lunged at the door. Grasping for the smooth latch, it flipped out of her hand, sending her back toward the ground.

“Dang it,” she said, breathlessly.

The radio burst into a hot shower of sparks, burning little holes as they landed on the fabric seats.

Maeve knew if she gave up, it would be the end.

She made one last leap skyward, and this time, she held her grip. The truck's twisted frame held the door firmly lodged in place. No matter how hard she tried at the awkward angle, it wouldn't budge. She knew there was only one way out left, and that was through the jagged, broken window.

Maeve accepted that there was no chance of escape without accumulating more cuts and scrapes. She gave the truck’s cab one last look. Scattered on the passenger side floor were her aviator sunglasses andAbel’s tan cowboy hat.

She clung to the door as she stretched across. Her fingertips grazed the hat’s brim, inching it even further out of reach.

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