Page 89 of The Promises We Broke
"I love you too. Go help Booker, but be careful. Please."
The line went dead just as another violent gust shook the building.
I should have left then, but we'd only just received the new scanning equipment and it had taken Xander months to even secure the order in the first place. It would only take me five minutes to move it into the store room in the center of the building where it was likely to get damaged.
I looked at the door, indecision warring inside me. I knew I was going to catch hell from Gage for this, but I couldn't just leave it. We had so many patients that would benefit from us having access to that machine.
Five minutes turned into ten and then ten minutes turned into twenty as I rushed around the center, securing equipment and making sure all the windows were properly sealed. By the time I finished, the rain was coming down in sheets and the windwas howling through the trees outside like something alive and furious.
I grabbed my keys and purse, locked up the center, and ran for my car. The rain soaked me instantly, driving so hard it felt like needles against my skin. I instantly knew I'd made a stupid mistake. This wasn't the gentle winter shower the weather forecast had predicted this morning. This was something violent and unpredictable.
My hands shook as I started the engine, already thinking about Gage out there in this chaos, trying to wrangle terrified horses in conditions that were getting worse by the minute. What if a tree fell? What if lightning struck? What if...
Stop, I told myself firmly. He's with Booker. They both know what they're doing.
The drive home was a nightmare from the start. The rain was so heavy my windshield wipers couldn't keep up, and the wind was strong enough to rock my small sedan. Branches littered the road, and twice I had to slow to a crawl to navigate around debris.
I was halfway to the cottage when I saw the tree falling.
It happened in slow motion. A massive oak, its roots probably weakened by all the recent rain, tilting slowly toward the road. I hit the brakes and swerved instinctively, but there wasn't enough time or space. The tree crashed across the road not ten feet in front of me, and my car skidded sideways off the ranch road and into the ditch that ran beside it.
The impact wasn't hard, but it was enough to kill the engine. I turned the key frantically, but nothing happened. The car was well and truly dead.
"Come on," I whispered, trying again. "Come on, please."
Nothing.
I pulled out my phone to call for help, but there was no signal. No bars at all. I was stranded, in the middle of a storm thatseemed to be getting worse by the minute, with no way to contact anyone.
The panic hit me then, swift and overwhelming. Gage didn't know where I was. He'd be expecting me at the cottage by now. And he was out there somewhere in this, exposed and vulnerable, helping Booker with animals that were probably just as terrified as I was.
What if something happened to him? What if other trees were coming down, or he got hurt trying to help a panicked horse? What if I never saw him again? What if the last thing I ever said to him was "I won't be long" when I should have said how much I loved him, how he was the best thing that had ever happened to me, how I couldn't imagine my life without him?
I tried starting the car again. And again. The engine didn't even turn over.
The wind rocked my little sedan, and I could hear branches snapping and crashing somewhere in the darkness beyond my headlights. I'd never felt so small and helpless in my life.
That's when I saw lights in my rearview mirror.
A truck was pulling up behind me, hazard lights flashing through the rain. My heart leaped with hope, then nearly stopped when I saw who was getting out.
Gage. Running through the driving rain toward my car like his life depended on reaching me.
I fumbled with the door lock, my hands shaking so badly I could barely manage it. Then his arms were around me, pulling me from the car and against his chest, and I felt like I could finally breathe again.
"Gage!" I gasped against his shoulder. "Oh my God, I was so scared. The car just died, and my phone has no signal, and I didn't know if you were okay..."
"I'm here," he said fiercely, his arms tightening around me. The rain soaked us both instantly, but I didn't care. He was safe. He was here. "I'm here, baby. I've got you."
I was shaking, whether from cold or fear or relief, I couldn't tell. Probably all three. "I kept thinking about you out there in this, helping with the horses. What if something happened to you? What if a tree fell or..."
"You're the one the tree fell on," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm fine. We're both fine."
He helped me into his truck, and the warmth inside felt like heaven after the chaos of the storm. Getting back to the cottage was treacherous. Tree branches littered the road, flooding in low spots, wind that threatened to push us off the track. But Gage navigated it all with steady hands and the kind of quiet competence that reminded me why I'd fallen in love with him in the first place.
The cottage felt like a sanctuary when we finally made it home. Warm and dry and safe, insulated from the violence raging outside.
"Let me look at you," Gage said, his hands running over my face, my arms, checking for injuries. "Are you hurt?"
