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  "I...can't."

  The frightened look in her eyes cut through him, and he wanted to feel everything would be all right, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to feel that way again no matter how diligently he tried.

  "You're scaring me, kiddo."

  He thought she'd laugh at that, but she didn't. She just kept staring at him, seeming to memorize everything about him. Even more unnerved, he eased himself on the mattress beside her and kissed her again.

  "What can I do?" he asked, longing for something to make all this easier. There was no doctor who could help him with what was going on, no friend who would understand what he, himself, could not. There was only Carrie.

  "I love you," Carrie said, stroking his face. "I've always loved you, and I will always love you."

  Her eyelids fluttered slightly, almost seeming to stumble in that motion before finally closing completely. The movement frightened Robbie because it reminded him of someone dying, which baffled him. Carrie was fine. Even the doctor had remarked at how strangely well she was considering what her injuries should have been.

  "Carrie?" he whispered, thinking he could call her back to him.

  No response.

  Her hands slipped from his face, and the panic mounted.

  "Carrie? Can you hear me?"

  In the still of the night, he struggled to detect whether she were breathing, but she was so still, he couldn't tell.

  "Damn it, Carrie--answer me!" He leaned over so his cheek was next to her mouth as he prayed for her next breath. When it came, it was extremely soft and slow, but it was there nonetheless.

  Unsettled, Robbie felt his shoulders cave beneath the sudden relief. Of course, that didn't tell him what had just happened, but then again, maybe he didn't want to know. He laid his head on Carrie's chest and listened to the soft, steady gallop of her heart.

  His wife was alive, and that was enough, he promised himself, but just as the sun lay hiding in the distance, waiting to rise, Robbie felt something uneasy stirring in him.

  Chapter Six

  Robbie woke early the next morning and felt he hadn't slept at all. It had been a long time since nightmares had reached for him, but last night they had come with a vengeance. He kept dreaming he was down the road from the wreck and could see it unfold even as he ran as fast as he could, trying to get there and stop it.

  A glimmer of light swooped into the road in front of Carrie's car. Carrie must have seen it at the last moment, as she'd swerved to miss it, sending her car flying toward the ditch; the only thing had had stopped it had been the huge tree it slammed into.

  More than once, Robbie had woken in a cold sweat as the dream played out over and over, and no matter how many times he told himself it didn't matter--that it was just a nightmare--he would go through it again until he finally woke for the last time, drenched in sweat and raw from the night.

  He glanced at the clock. 5:30. Granted, it was around the time he usually woke, but nothing about his life felt normal anymore. He looked at Carrie who was turned on her side toward him. She seemed so calm--so unaware of the tremors that had been rocking his world all night--and rather than risk disturbing her, he eased from the bed and headed for the shower, figuring that soaking in hot water might help alleviate the stress. No, a shower wouldn't change anything, but it might help him focus, and he was going to need that to help him figure out a way to explain the differences in his wife to Beth. Hell, he wasn't able to even explain it to himself, so he didn't have a clue how he was going to get it past Carrie's best friend.

  After the shower, Robbie felt a little better, and with it came a tighter sense of focus. Still, it brought the details of his dream into sharper focus. Or at least one detail into sharper focus as well--or at least one detail in particular. Something that seemed altogether random and senseless. In the dream, he'd seen something silver cross Carrie's path, but the object hadn't been grounded, not like a car. It also traveled perpendicular to Carrie's path. The wreck had occurred in the middle of a road, not at the mile intersection. So whatever he had dreamed had not been a car. It had been above Carrie's car, which had been the only reason she hadn't hit it in the first place.

  "It was just a stupid dream," Robbie snapped as he went for the coffee pot.

  Still, as he sipped his coffee, he found himself going back over the dream again. What bothered him most, besides not being able to get there in time to stop what happened, just like he had been unable to do in real life, was that it didn't feel like any dream he'd ever had. Usually his nightmares had weird elements--pink bunnies with machine guns or stupid crap like that. Also, the timeline were always scrambled. Things happened out of order, and there was confusion. There was always something in them to tell him he was having a dream, which is why no dreams, no matter how horrific, had ever actually scared him. His mind could always tell the difference between dream and life.

  This time there were no elements that didn't fit, and all the events had been sequential. He could feel the wind blowing around him as the chaos unfolded. He could hear himself screaming his wife's name, yet those screams hadn't followed him into the waking world, not unless the wreck had damaged Carrie's hearing, which he knew hadn't happened. Still, she slept on her side, turned toward him, unaware of the warzone in his mind.

  "Get over it, will you?" he snapped, setting the coffee cup on the counter and rolling his shoulders, trying to ease the tension. "It was just a stupid dream."

  Still, that dream was with him when he glanced at the clock, watching the slow tick of time unwind around him. In about an hour, he'd wake Carrie so she could get ready for Beth's arrival. Gritting his teeth, he tried to reason through what he planned to tell Beth with regard to the differences in Carrie, but while he was glad his wife was okay, others seemed freaked out by the whole ordeal, and if one more person asked him if he'd seen the wreckage, he was probably going to go homicidal--or just give in and go see what remained of his wife's car.

  Robbie picked up his mug and trudged into the living room, where he turned on the television and watched the early edition of the news, the biggest story being the heat wave that had settled across the state and showed no sign of budging. There was no hint of rain in the ten-day forecast, and that was going to be bad for the farmers who were depending on it.

  Leaning back in the recliner, Robbie watched the rest of the news and let the words and images blur together until he was no longer really even paying attention. He tried not to think about the dream, but the silence teemed with an urgency he didn't understand, and that seemed like an obvious sort of place to find the source of it. Since his wife was physically fine, it had to be the dream that wouldn't let him go.

  The stillness was mindnumbing around him, and he'd almost drifted off when he realized he needed to rouse his wife or Beth would show up on the doorstep before Carrie was ready.

  Raking his fingers through his hair, Robbie stood, walked back to the bedroom, and sat back on his side of the bed as he set his mug on the nightstand. Carrie was still lying in the same position as before, one hand tucked under her chin, and her knees drawn close to her chest.

  Despite the stress of the last few days, Robbie found himself smiling as he watched his wife sleeping so peacefully the world around her had ceased to exist. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept that well, and part of him envied her that kind of peace, especially since he sensed that, with his child about to enter the world, he was going to find so many more things to make him nervous, things far beyond his control.

  "Carrie, baby, it's time to get up. You need to get ready because Beth is going to be here in an hour or so." He reached out and gently caressed her cheek.

  While his words didn't get much of a reaction, his fingers on her skin caused a muffled groan as she stirred, her eyes clenched shut even more tightly than before. Now those were all typically Carrie-isms. She'd hated mornings long before she'd ever gotten pregnant. Her nine-month condition had only exacerbated her frustration at dawn's early light.


  "Maybe you need caffiene more than I do?" Robbie grinned and reached for his mug.

  Carrie turned over and fell still again; she'd drifted back to sleep.

  "Hey there," Robbie said, gently prodding her side. "You've really got to get a move on, kiddo. You've actually slept later than I intended, and I seriously doubt you want Beth tromping in here and dragging you to the shower. You know she'll do it."

  Robbie grinned and leaned over the other side so he could check out her expression.

  One eyelid opened slowly, and she slowly sat up, one hand drifting to her belly, checking to make sure the baby were still there.

  "Yep, Carrie--you're still pregnant." He waited for her to push the hair from her face before holding out the mug. "Maybe this will help wake you."

  She stared at the mug, unsure whether she wanted to take it, but as Robbie nudged it closer and pretty much left her no choice, she took it in her hands, staring at it a moment before finally lifting it to her mouth and taking a drink. She grimaced.

  "Yeah, it's hot," Robbie said. "I'm sorry. I guess I should have warned you." He leaned forward and pecked her cheek before easing himself off the bed. "Now that you're awake, I'll just get out of your hair. Beth seems to think the two of you have a big day ahead, what with all the shower plans."

  She watched him silently with those bottomless eyes, eyes that now seemed so different; they were timeless. Yes, they were still beautiful, but somehow they had lost the impishness he'd cherished; his playful wife had been taken over by an old soul, and while he knew pregnancies tended to change women, he hadn't expected this. Then again, who could have imagined it?

  As Carrie rose from the bed and padded awkwardly down the hall to the bathroom so she could shower, Robbie reached out and touched the place on the pillow where, just a moment ago, her head had lain. The pillow was still warm, and he rested his hand there for a few moments before getting up and ambling the kitchen to make his wife some breakfast. Yes, the chance was good that Beth might be bringing food, but it wouldn't hurt for Carrie to eat before her best friend arrived, just in case whatever Beth thought would be appetizing didn't appeal to Carrie and might upset her stomach.

  He was pouring the last of the waffle batter into the maker when he saw Carrie emerge, her hair dark from water still dripping from the ends. It was temporary. As soon as she brushed through it and it dried, the light would catch the reddish-blonde strands and burnish them, casting highlights in her hair.

  "Did you enjoy your shower?" he asked, shutting the waffle iron.

  "It was okay." Although her voice sounded a little more normal, there was still a strange detachment to it.

  "Well, then." He pushed a plate with two waffles bathed in syrup, just as she liked them, at Carrie. "I fixed waffles in hopes the breadiness might take the edge off your stomach. Last week, you had nasty heartburn."

  Her eyes met his, and, as usual, he swam in their darkness while awaiting an answer. She offered none. Instead, her she looked at her plate.

  "You might want to eat before it gets cold." He picked up a knife and fork, and handed them to her.

  "Thank you." Her fingers awkwardly wrapped around the silverware. Clearly, she wasn't sure what to do with it.

  Frowning, he pulled out a chair and waited for her to sit before pushing it in. He opened the waffle iron and pulled out his own breakfast, setting the fresh waffles on a plate.

  Sitting beside her, he watched her struggle with the knife and fork, holding them in ways that made no sense, and he wondered again about a head injury. There had to be some kind of explanation for this. People didn't just forget everyday things.

  "Here, let me help." He looked at her hands, which had gripped the silverware all wrong, and gently corrected her grip before demonstrating again how to use them by wrapping his fingers around hers.

  His fingers lingered there, reassured by her skin under his, and for a moment, she looked at him--really looked at him-- as she had the day they were married, when he promised he would move heaven and earth to keep her safe. He swallowed hard and realized just how badly he'd failed and how much that haunted him. She deserved so much better than she had in him, and he would find a way to be that. Somehow.

  Lost in her eyes, he dared not move; he wanted to keep this moment alive for as long as possible. No, it was Carrie who slowly moved closer until he could feel her breath on his cheeks, warm with life. She stared at him with a longing he cherished amid all the doubts plaguing him. And then, when she had eased beyond all the distance between them, her lips found his. Granted, the kiss was clumsy and inexperienced, not like Carrie at all, but Robbie didn't care. All he could think about was the fact that she had approached him, and he lingered there with her until she finally drew back, her expression burning with so many things--confusion, love, fear, hope. He wanted to address them all, but he didn't know where to start.

  "I love you, Carrie," he whispered.

  A flush crept into her cheeks. Normally, she would have responded in kind, but nothing had been normal for days now, and he didn't see them going back to making sense any time soon.

  Although Robbie wished she had said the words and would have given anything to hear them, he knew better than to push. She needed time. He couldn't believe that whatever was going on with her would change how she felt about him. It might cause her behavior to shift, but the bond was unbreakable. He had to believe that.

  "You'd better eat before Beth gets here." He let go of her hand and focused on eating, but he still felt her watching him. More than once, he looked up to her, but she always glanced away.

  The quiet that settled between them was disturbing, but he figured trying to force small talk would only feel worse somehow. Instead, he finished eating and carried his plate to the sink, where he rinsed it off.

  Almost as though he'd timed it, the doorbell rang, forcing Robbie to glance at the clock hanging in the dining room. A wry grin touched his lips as he realized Beth was right on time, as usual. Actually, it was close to a miracle she hadn't been early. Beth usually bounced from place to place--Tigger had nothing on her.

  At the sound, Carrie looked around, seemingly disoriented. She only had two bites left on her plate, which was a good thing.

  "Looks like the fun is about to begin. You might want to finish up."

  She frowned and took another bite while he walked to the door, reaching for the knob as the bell rang a second time. As he tugged the door open, he spotted Galen standing there with his arm wrapped around his wife. Although they had been whispering, the moment Robbie opened the door, they both turned suddenly to face him, a pinched look on their faces.

  Robbie looked from one to the other before opening the screen and greeting them. "Well, it looks like you made it. Come on in."

  Galen shook his head. "Did you really think Beth would forget? She called you last night to make sure it was okay." He ushered Beth into the foyer.

  "How is she?" Beth asked, brushing the long blonde hair from her face.

  "She's good." Robbie plastered a smile on his face, hoping to look more convinced than he felt, considering just how topsy-turvy his world had become.

  "I can't believe how lucky she is," Beth said, her tone hushed, her gaze averted. "That car."

  Yet another person who saw the damned car, Robbie thought, gritting his teeth. Had anyone in town not seen it except him?

  Beth started to "bounce " toward the living room when Robbie caught her arm. "Just take it slow, Beth. Physically, she's fine, but she's...different."

  Although Beth's mouth opened. She was about to ask a barrage of questions, she looked into Robbie's eyes and quickly pursed her lips, which had to be a first. Beth never gave in that easily, and Robbie felt his shoulders tense--just another symptom of things not normal.

  "Beth?" he said her name, hoping that if she did have questions, she'd ask them. He hated this limbo feeling.

  "I got it, Robbie." She peered toward the living room. "Don't get your panties in a
wad."

  With that, she headed for the living room, leaving him standing with Galen. His best friend smirked and patted Robbie's back. "Well, looks like it's just you and me."

  "Yeah," Robbie replied distantly as he stared in the direction Beth had gone.

  "You need a break, Rob. Beth will take good care of her." Galen nodded at the door and Robbie reluctantly headed that way, in no hurry to leave his wife, no matter who might be taking care of her. The last time he hadn't been there, she'd had the wreck. He wasn't up for thinking about an encore.

  As they walked out, Robbie tried to focus on the present, but it was hard. As he slid into the seat, he heard Galen ask, "So what are we gonna do to pass a few hours?"

  Robbie peered out the window, and although the glass was smeared, he focused on the ledge that overlooked the lake Carrie liked so much. They'd spent all last summer out there--having dinner, swimming, enjoying the fireflies. It couldn't have been more perfect. Now, this year, things couldn't be been more terrifying.

  "Earth to Robbie. Come in." Galen waved his hand in front of Robbie's face, trying to get his attention.

  "What?" Robbie asked, shaking off memories of the previous year.

  "Do you want to go fishing? I got poles and tackle in the back." He thumbed to the truck bed.

  "No. I'd rather go to the junk yard."

  Galen had just turned the key and started the engine but when he heard that, his fingers jerked and turned the key again, making a horrible grating sound.

  "No, Robbie, you don't want to do that. Trust me. Nothing good is going to come of giving Carrie's car a once-over."

  Robbie suddenly turned, his expression hard. "But you have, haven't you?" He paused a moment, waiting, and when Galen nodded, Robbie smacked his hand on the console.

  "Goddamn! I'm the only person who hasn't seen the car, and everyone keeps telling me Carrie should've died. I want to know what happened."

  "You won't find out from the car." Galen backed up to turn around before heading down the driveway.

  "I still want to see it," Robbie snapped, resuming his stare out the window. "It's the least I can do for her."