Letters in Time, Reiss Susan [read me a book TXT] 📗

I had only one choice. I gripped the steering wheel. My timing had to be perfect. Stones kicked up by his big tires dinged my pathetic beach ride. It was my only weapon. I had to make it work.

He was closing in.

NOW.

I yanked the wheel hard to the right and aimed for his door. The shock on his face was the last thing I saw. The last thing before everything went black. Just like in the accident.

Chapter Forty-Three

“The best domestic letters are dictated by the heart rather than the head. Loving word is precious, filling the soul with sunshine, and making it for a time oblivious of pain.”

—How to Write Letters

by Professor J. Willis Westlake, 1883

“Emma?” A man’s soft voice called me out of the darkness. “Emma, come on. Wake up.”

I felt a touch on my shoulder.

"TJ! Don't move her," someone instructed. "Her neck, be careful of her neck. Watch her head. That windshield is spiderwebbed. She must have hit it hard."

Slowly, I recognized one of the voices. TJ. He was here. I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't want to face what I had done to myself. It was enough to know that TJ was there. It meant that Fanny and her brother Josh couldn't hurt me. Couldn't hurt me anymore than I'd hurt myself.

Someone pried open an eyelid. A strong white light filled my eyes. Was this the light at the end? Had I survived one accident only to lose my life in another, one of my own making?

I was drifting back into the great fog when his words called to me. “Emma, come on. Let me know you’re here.” His voice was filled with anguish.

Pain was starting to register. I wasn’t sure who was hurting more, him or me? The man said I hit the windshield and broke it. But my head didn’t hurt. I thought it should, but it didn’t.

What about my leg? I thought in a panic.

I tried to flex.  It moved. Maybe it’s okay. I took a deep breath in relief and moaned.  My chest!  Oh, no!

“Emma! Thank the Lord! You’re here!” TJ said in great excitement.

I might be here, but I’m in a world of hurt.

The real world formed into a mass flashing red and blue lights. Strangers poked me. Asked me inane questions, like what was my name? Then I was bundled into an ambulance for a heavenly ride to the hospital on a comfy cloud of drugs.

Later, I found out that it wasn’t my head that had broken the windshield. It was the sheer force of the impact. The airbag had saved me, but at a price. I had to remember to move slowly and carefully until my ribs felt better.

In those crazy few moments at the Lone Oak, I had saved my own life. Josh hadn't walked away from the accident. He was someplace else in the hospital, handcuffed to his bed. In my statement to the police, I repeated what I had heard Josh say.

To avoid a charge of accessory to murder, Stephani had corroborated my testimony and agreed to testify, if I wouldn't press charges for breaking-and-entering my house and kidnapping. They worked out something with the insurance company about her mangled Jeep.

My stay in the hospital was tense at best. I was worried about Daniel. What if he wrote to me and I wasn’t there to answer his letters? Finally, I persuaded TJ to bring me some paper from the stack on the plantation desk and any letter that might appear.

Fortunately, Daniel wrote in his first letter after that awful night under the Lone Oak that he was tired and wanted to rest a little. That worked for me. I assured him that I would respond when he wrote again.

I struck a compromise with the doctors that I would be their best patient, if I could go to rehab for intense therapy for my battered body. I was haunted by a deep-seated terror. I'd convinced myself that as long as I stayed in the hospital, they could amputate my leg. They agreed and moved me to a place that didn’t have an operating room. The physical therapy sessions were a challenge, but they got easier as my body healed. The following weeks did me a world of good.

Whenever TJ took a few hours off from the harvest, he came to visit. Of course, Ghost was by his side and became a favorite with the other patients. I began to look forward to his frequent phone calls with the combine rumbling in the background. We had lots to discuss. There were the official statements and the gossip about the case involving Stephani and Josh. And I learned more than I ever thought about the details of a harvest.

The one thing on our minds the most was the question of Emma and Daniel. We agreed to wait until I was released from rehab before making any final decisions, but Daniel wouldn’t be denied.

Chapter Forty-Four

“When we see ourselves in a situation which must be endured and gone through, it is best to make up our minds to it, meet it with firmness, and accommodate everything to it in the best way practicable. … while fretting and fuming only serves to increase our own torments.”

—Thomas Jefferson

Just a week before my release date, I knew there was a problem when TJ didn't respond to my bright, welcoming smile. His eyebrows were drawn together. His mouth hung open a little.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, reaching for his hand. Afraid, I looked behind him for Ghost. “Where’s…”

“He’s coming.