Just a Memory (37 page)

I've got to do this
.
Do it for Mac.

Talking to herself seemed to help. She
had
to make it. She was responsible for Mac's future–a matter of life or death. Carolyn needed to get Mac out of that cabin and to a hospital. He had faith in her and she would not let him down.

"I can do it, Mac. I can run some more," she murmured. The night swallowed the breathy sounds of her words.

The snow blew in her open mouth as she breathed hard and almost choked her. She coughed, losing the cadence of her stride, but at that moment her second wind seemed to come. She sped up and, when she wasn't on the slope of a curve where her footing was less sure, she ran full out as she'd done at first.

She wished a car would come by that she could flag down for help. At once she realized she couldn't take the chance. It might be Harry or his boss Brown Eyes. She had to watch for any car coming so she could hide. Snow-covered now, she thought she had a good chance of going undetected if she just threw herself into the deep ditch and lay still until the car passed.

Left, right, left, right.

Carolyn's head jerked up as she became aware of a noise. Not the sound of a car, but a new sound filled the night. She stopped and turned her head to identify the direction it came from.

Slowly she maneuvered a long curve without falling and realized she heard a creek rushing with the newly melted snow adding to its volume. The creek. The bridge. The dark form rising ahead had to be the bridge.

She broke into a run. If a car came now, there was no ditch to hide in. She had to get across the bridge fast. She was halfway across when she thought she saw a light through the trees upstream beyond the bridge.

The cramp in her side was back and stronger this time. She wanted to stop and cling to the metal sides supporting the bridge. Instead she pressed her icy, numb fist into the pain and kept moving.

Her steps were becoming a stagger and she couldn't seem to get any air into her lungs. Every breath hurt her chest. She made it to the far end post of the bridge. She clung to it and bent over gasping for breath. Her gasps turned into wrenching coughs.

Suddenly she straightened. She saw Mac's face in the darkness before her. She could see tremendous pain in his eyes. She heard him call out her name. She watched his eyes glaze over and the vision of his face disappeared.

Carolyn looked back in the direction of the cabin. "Mac?" Something terrible had happened back there. She had to get help before it was too late. Her cold stiff fingers pushed at the frozen hair that had fallen across her face.

"Mac!" Her anguished cry echoed in the darkness. Tears mixed with the snow on her face. She rubbed them away the best she could with the snowy sleeve of her coat so she could see. The skin of her cheeks hurt from the rubbing.

She pushed off the post toward town and began to run again. She had to. No one else could help Mac. No one even knew where he was.

"I can run some more, Mac." Her words were separated with gasps for breath. Her hand pressed against her ribcage to relieve the pain searing her lungs with each inhalation.

Over the crunching of her feet in the snow, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart and her lungs drawing air into her shivering wet body.

Her feet, unbending with the wet cold, slapped against the road. She kept going because she knew every step brought her closer to help for Mac.

Mac fought the light that beckoned him from the darkness and urged him back into the cabin. Carolyn was gone. There was no other reason he would want to return.

Harry, standing over him shaking him and yelling his name, saw things differently. "Mac! Wake up!"

He called Mac one name after another, referring to his parentage and then resorted to shaking his wounded shoulder, apparently hoping the pain would bring him to. Mac hated the fact he was right. When he was lost in the darkness, his damn shoulder didn't hurt. With Harry pounding on him, it was all he could do to keep from passing out again.

"Mac, where is she? She went to the bathroom an hour ago. I just found the water still running, but she ain't in there. The window is open so I know what she done."

Harry had a knee on the bed and held Mac's shirtfront, wet from fresh blood. Mac tried to pull away, but there was no way to escape with his good arm still handcuffed to the headboard. Quickly deciding his best defense was no defense, he acted less than conscious. That was easy because that was the way he felt with the new searing pain in his shoulder. He kept his eyes closed.

Harry gave one more yell in desperation. "Mac!" Getting no more response than a groan, he held Mac with one hand and eased his frustration with the back of the other hand across Mac's face.

That was all it took to send Mac back into the cold black hole where he'd been since Carolyn left.

Harry dropped his grip on the front of his shirt. While making slurs about Carolyn's possible vocation and private personal preferences, he grabbed his coat and ran out the front door to trudge through the snow to his car. He swiped the snow off the windshield with his coat sleeve, cursing the whole time. He gunned the motor and with the wheels spinning he exited the cabin driveway and turned onto the road to find the nearest farm where he was certain Carolyn would head.

The cabin door he'd slammed bounced on the doorframe and popped open again. The cold wind blew inside. By the time Harry pulled out of the driveway onto the road, snow, looking blue in the light from the television, had begun to stick to the threadbare carpeting.

Carolyn could not go any further without a rest. Her shoulders stooped with fatigue, she wiped the snow from her eyelashes with both stiff hands and looked around her. Light and dark shadows rose in all directions. Had she gone past it?

She squinted and tried to make out a tall narrow shadow that broadened at the top. It looked too odd-shaped to be anything in nature. It was covered with snow, but that had to be it. She angled her steps across the road and brushed away the snow from it with her arms. Her fingers came in sharp, painful contact with the blades, and she cried out. Then she just cried.

She'd found the miniature wooden Dutch windmill she'd been watching for. "Thank you, God, thank you," was all she could say as she leaned on the side of the decorative mailbox to rest briefly.

When it wasn't weighed down with snow and frozen in place, Carolyn knew from having been here before that the windmill's light blades turned in the wind. Right now it was the most beautiful kitsch she'd ever seen.

"I'm almost there, Mac. Hang on. I'll get you help."

With her strength and determination renewed, she pushed off from the mailbox like a swimmer pushes off the end of a pool. She ran up the driveway leading into the woods. She couldn't see the yard light from there by the road, but it must have been the light she saw before the bridge. Just a quarter of a mile more. She had come so far, she could go a little farther.

"It'll be okay, Mac," she choked out before talking became too hard for her.

Totally dark in the woods, she lost her sense of direction and couldn't make out which way to go. At each clearing in the trees, she wondered if she was to turn in there. She had to slow down and watch each step. She learned the hard way the one-lane gravel road cut through the tall trees on a raised bed. She fell and slid into the ditch after stepping off the edge. She cried out, landed on her hip and one hand.

Maybe she could just sit there for a while and rest. Her side didn't hurt now as she lay with her knees pulled up against her chest. It didn't feel so cold here either, deep in the woods and out of the wind. There wasn't even as much snow falling beneath the tree branch canopy.

Carolyn dropped her head onto her arm. She would just rest for a minute or two and then go on. When she closed her eyes, she saw Mac's face and felt his pain once more. Her face jerked up and she called his name. "Mac! I'm almost there. Help is coming."

Carolyn stiffly climbed to her feet. She was careful to walk more slowly and keep to the center of the cut through the woods. Rounding a curve closer to the house, the yard light showed her where the road turned. When she ran out of the woods onto the driveway, she saw the totally dark house and barn before her. Only the high yard light spotlighted the snow.

They've got to be home. They've just gone to bed.
Please be home!

She ran in a stooped, straight-legged gait to the porch. "
Alice
! Alice VanVleet. It's Carolyn Blake," she called as she crossed to the kitchen entrance. "Please,
Alice
, you've got to open the door."

She pounded on the storm door with both hands. Her icy fingers felt so cold she couldn't tell if she'd managed to curl them into fists or not. She began to slip and then could only use one hand to pound at a time while she used the other to support herself. She no longer felt the pain in her wrist from her falls. The sharp pain in her fingers and toes seemed to be lessening, too. It's going to be okay, Mac.

She was getting no response from within the house. She frantically looked around the doorframe. No doorbells in the country, she remembered. She turned the knob of the storm door with her nonfunctioning fingers and after several tries she got it open. Stepping around it she pounded on the inside kitchen door.

"Mrs. VanVleet, please open the door. Help me. I've got to help Mac…"

Carolyn's whole body leaned on the door. Her forehead rested on the cold glass. When she found the strength to lift one, a fist pounded on the side. If only she could just rest.

No. Can't sit. Mac needs me.
T
hinking of Mac kept her standing.

A light through the glass suddenly shone into her face. She shut her eyes against the brightness and buried her face in her folded arm. Muffled voices in the kitchen beyond the door called out, "Who's there? Who's out there?"

Carolyn lifted her head from the door and looked in. Someone was in there. She slapped the window. "
Alice
. Arthur. It's Carolyn Blake. Mac needs help." Carolyn took another breath to tell them where he was and pain cut across her rib cage. Her breath caught. She winced as the pain threatened to squeeze all the breath out of her. Her legs too weak to support her any longer, she slid down the door in slow motion and would have fallen on the steps if the door hadn't opened.

Two white-haired good Samaritans stared down at the icy, snow-covered form on the floor before them and then looked at each other. The stiff body that fell onto their kitchen floor looked more dead than alive.

The VanVleets rolled Carolyn over on to her back and closed the door.
Alice
recognized her. "Carolyn! Oh, Arthur, it's Carolyn, the lady that helped me with my wedding dress." She struggled to get to her knees and brushed the snow from Carolyn's face.

"Let's get that wet coat off her," Arthur said. Working together, they managed it.

"Poor thing is soaked and cold to the bone,"
Alice
judged. "Arthur, get some dry clothes of yours so she can change out of these. Mine will be too small for someone as tall as she is."

Arthur nodded and rose to go get dry clothes.

The scene in the kitchen played in Carolyn's mind as if it had been happening at a great distance. She knew
Alice
had left her side and then returned, but she couldn't move easily or speak.

"Carolyn, can you sit up, dear? I've poured some tea. Here, let us help you."

Arthur lifted her head and Carolyn sipped the tea
Alice
offered. Her hands hurt so badly when she touched the warm cup she couldn't hold it.
Alice
held it for her.