When Lightning Strikes

It would take a hell of a lot more than some stupid dream to beat her.

She straightened her chin and stared out at the landscape. The flat, arid land spilled out in front of her. Against all odds, there was life here, grafted onto the waterless plain in swabs of flowering green. Trees, gnarled and bent and twisted, clung to the parched yellow dirt.

It seemed impossible that life could exist where water was so scarce. And yet, the plants not only existed; they adapted and thrived, and threw their hopeful bits of color across the sandy ground.

That's what she would do. Adapt and thrive. This dream wouldn't last much longer?it couldn't. Soon, any minute, in fact, she was going to wake up with a pounding headache and a mouth that felt like the inside

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of an old boot. But until then, she was going to do what she did best. She was going to survive.

She glanced at the man beside her. He sat tall and straight in the saddle, riding with a lithe grace and ease that came from years of experience. At the sight of him, shame curled in her stomach, sharp and bitter.

This morning, when he left her bound and gagged in the middle of the endless desert, she'd retreated to a place inside herself, someplace dark and safe. It was a place she hadn't used in years, a haven, and it welcomed her back with unexpected ease.

Something inside her had collapsed at that moment, crushed in on itself. God help her, she'd almost given up. Like before. So long ago . ..

But she knew better, damn it, and it wasn't a mistake she'd repeat.

No more shit-taking from macho man, no more tears, no more whimpering. From now on, she was Alaina Costanza again, and she didn't take crap from anyone.

Especially not figments of her own imagination.

They rode side by side in utter silence for hours. The sun gradually gave up its hold on the sky, sinking slowly toward the ridge of mountains to the east. The two unsaddled horses galloped freely alongside them.

"They're behind us."

Lainie was in so much pain, it took her soggy brain a minute to process the information that he-man had spoken. Dully she glanced at Killian.

He slowed his horse to a trot.

The Bitch followed suit, her gliding gait melting into a bone-rattling trot. Agony ripped through Lainie's in-sides at the change of pace. She made a tiny, gasping sound of pain and clung to the saddle horn with sweaty,

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aching fingers, bouncing hard in the unpadded leather seat.

Jesus, it felt as if someone were hammering her internal organs with a mallet. She prayed she could hold on just a minute longer. Her vision blurred, turned the darkening desert into a smeary wash of towering black rock formations and gunmetal gray sky.

Killian stopped suddenly and raised his hand. "I hear something."

Lainie bounced right past him.

He surged ahead in a sudden lope and yanked her reins, drawing her to a jarring stop. "I said stop."

Lainie sighed; it was an expression of relief that seemed to well up from the bottom of her soul. Her butt was planted. She eased her right leg out of the stirrup and started to dismount.

He grabbed her upper arm, hard. "Stay."

Irritation gave her a spark of personality back. She may be down, but she wasn't out, and jerk-wad here couldn't give her dog commands. "Now, look here, I?"

He threw her an exasperated glance. "Please shut up."

Lainie was too tired to argue. Sounds of the coming night pressed in on her, noises that only seconds ago she hadn't heard. The whirring thump of bird wings, the symphonic chatter of the wind through the trees, the heaving, wheezing breath of the tired horses.

She crossed her arms and stared out at the lonely land. The evening sky seemed endless, a dome of lavender silk dotted by charcoal black strafers and thousands of twinkling stars. Here and there, spires of twisted rock jutted up from the earth like towers to Heaven. The whole place had an eerie melancholy to it, and yet there was a magic here, too, an almost primeval spirituality

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