Page 81 of From the Darkness

Her heart began to pound as she realized that something else was happening. Like that first time she had come here. She felt it deep in her bones, in her soul. In her heart.

A dozen yards away, pine needles rustled and then flared away from the ground in a sudden updraft.

Transfixed she watched the debris swirl in a spiral pattern, then whip away among the trees. The circle of wind gathered speed and force like a cyclone collecting more and more swirling matter. She had seen Troy step out of the cyclone here in this grove. But that sight was impossible now. She had to squeeze her eyes shut to protect them, as the air howled around her head like a human cry of agony—or triumph.

When she heard the wind gathering force, tearing at the tree branches, real fear shot through her. She was rooted to the spot—until the swirling mass of debris caught her in its grasp and spun her around, making her lose all sense of direction as she struggled to stay on her feet.

Dizzy, disoriented, she reached out a hand, groping for a tree trunk, as she struggled to steady herself. For a terrible moment, her hands clutched at nothing, and she feared the wind might fling her out of the grove and over the edge of the cliff.

But finally, she felt something solid, and grasped for purchase. It wasn’t tree bark she felt. Not at all. Instead, her fingers closed around flannel fabric.

“What!” Her exclamation ended in a gasp as she was pulled tightly against a man’s hard body.

“Troy?” she breathed, unable to see him in the whirling vortex, unable to believe that the unbelievable was happening.

By some miracle—could it really be him? Or was this whole episode just some trick of her fevered imagination? Some fantasy she’d conjured up out of her own pain because she wanted him so much, and she couldn’t bear the idea of living without him.

He held her more tightly as the wind rocked them, pressed them together, and then whipped out of existence, leaving the tree branches trembling in its wake.

Breathlessly, she waited for the illusion to fade away. But when Troy’s body stayed real and solid against her, she dared to let the tiny kernel of hope inside her grow and bloom.

Cautiously, she tipped her head up and opened her eyes, then blinked as his tanned face and windblown hair filled her vision.

She gasped, her hands clenching and unclenching on his shoulders. The whirlwind had vanished, but Troy was here. Troy was holding her in his embrace.

She breathed his name, then said it more loudly as she clasped him to her, trembling as a great swell of relief and shock washed over her—even when her mind still questioned if this was reality or only her own desperate longing.

“Bree.” He sounded as astonished as she felt. And as he whispered her name, his arms tightened around her.

She pressed her face to his chest, breathing in the spicy scent of his body before raising her face to stare at him. How . . . where did you come from?”

He blinked his eyes and looked around in wonder, then reached to pluck a strand of moss from her hair. “I don’t know. I was somewhere dark and cold. Then the wind grabbed me up, brought me here.”

Her fingers dug into his arms as she struggled to take in what had happened—what must have happened. “Oh, Troy. . . Oh . . . You’re here. You’re here!”

For long moments they clung together, holding each other, their lips brushing, clinging, then breaking apart again so that they could gasp out each other’s names. Tears blurred her vision again. But now they were tears of joy.

He brushed a drop of moisture away from her cheek with his knuckle. “Don’t cry. It’s going to be all right.”

“I know. Oh, I know,” she answered, finally daring to believe it was true.

She dragged in a breath and struggled for coherence. “What’s the last thing you remember before the dark place,” she asked.

“I remember the storm.”

She nodded tightly.

“Then I came to the schoolroom to say good-bye to you and Dinah.”

“We didn’t see you.”

“I didn’t let you see me.”

She grasped him more tightly. He seemed so real, so solid, yet he had felt that way to her before. Only this was different she suddenly realized with a sense of relief. The look in his eyes was different. Always before he’d looked like he was gazing at her from a far distance. Not now.

There were questions she didn’t want to ask. But she needed answers. “You told me you were a ghost,” she murmured.

He dragged in a breath and let it out slowly. “Maybe I was. I remember I felt so numb, so disoriented.” He reached up to gingerly touch the back of his head. “I guess it has something to do with this big lump back here.”

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