When Lightning Strikes

The color drained from his cheeks, left him pale and drawn. His voice fell to a strained, throaty whisper. "What do you mean?"

She swallowed hard. "I've already . .. survived what Emily went through."

Silence crashed into the cabin.

"Oh, my God," he said in a rush of breath. "That's what your nightmares are about . . . why you don't sleep-----"

She shook her head slightly. "That's . . . part of it." She looked up at him, trying to tell him so many things with her eyes that she couldn't put into words. "It was really ... ugly and it took me a while to get over it, but I did get over it. I survived."

"Alaina .. ."

The way he said her name almost broke her heart. Before she knew it, she was moving toward him, her face tilted up to his, her gaze steady. She saw the compassion in his gaze, the pain, and it drew her.

He barely touched her at first. She leaned infinitesimally toward him and closed her eyes. Suddenly, violently, his arms closed around her, held her so tightly, she couldn't breathe. She felt the slow, even thudding of his heart against her body, heard the soft whisper of his breath at her forehead.

She'd been waiting all her life for this moment, this touch, this simple understanding of her pain. Blinking back tears, she pressed her face against his shirt, breathing in the masculine, familiar scent of him. And suddenly it seemed possible that they were soul mates.

She reached up to touch him. "Killian?"

Lowering his head, he whispered harshly in her ear, "Jesus, Lainie, what are you doing to me?" Then he pushed her away and spun around, raising his hands. "Enough," he growled. "Enough."

She blinked, confused by the sudden change. "Enough, what?"

He turned to her, gave her a look so bleak, she felt its impact like a slap. "I can't do this. Tomorrow I'm sending you to Fortune Flats with Skeeter. That's the help I'll give you."

She moved toward him, strangely disappointed. It should be a victory for her, a triumph. He'd said he'd get her back. But all she felt was abandoned. "But?"

"But nothing." He backed up, keeping the distance between them. "Stay the hell away from me, Lainie." His voice was harsh, raw.

Before she could answer, someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," Killian said sharply.

The door swung open and Viloula stood in the doorway. In her hands she carried a small jar. There was a glassy, faraway look in her eyes and her hands were shaking. She looked at Lainie. "I have one last ting to try."

Lainie took a step toward the old woman. "What is it, Viloula? You look worried."

Viloula gave her a weak, lackluster smile. "I been up all night reading .. . and t'inking. Den I fought about dis." She held up the vial. The contents glittered like gold dust, caught the light, and seemed curiously alive. "Dis might tell me how to get you back home."

Lainie drew in a sharp breath. Hope exploded in her

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heart, but she quickly suppressed it, unwilling to let herself believe. "How?"

Viloula looked from Lainie to Killian. "Follow me."

"Now?" Killian asked, frowning.

Viloula gave him a look so stark in its fear that Lainie was stunned. "If I doan do it now, I might not find de strengt' to do it."

"But, Viloula?"

"Now," she said sharply. Then she turned and left the cabin.

Chapter Sixteen

They walked together in a heavy, awkward silence, no one knowing what to say. Finally, after what felt like hours, they came to the place Viloula had chosen. On a lip of land just above the camp lay a flat plain, circled by towering walls of jet black rock. Overhead, the sky was a midnight blue veil studded with bright lights. As they watched, a star shot across the heavens, leaving a glitterin