Stormy Passion Read online

  Taylor neared the turn where the snow machine should be positioned. The man at the top mentioned the sixth turn. Taylor slowed until he came to a stop just before entering the bend. Leaning over, he grabbed his knees trying to control his labored breathing. He wasn't in the best of shape.

  Kicking off his skis, he started around the turn. A single ski stood straight up in the snow as if it marked a grave. “No!” Taylor's anguished voice echoed through the mountains. Chills ran rampant over his body. Get a hold of yourself. Brenna had to be here someplace. He scanned the area, searching every lump and bump until his eyes focused on a group of tall pines. At the bottom lay a bundle of red. A bundle that wasn't moving.

  The shortest way to Brenna was across the ice, but if he broke his leg in the process he wouldn't be much good to either of them, so Taylor forced himself to take the other way around.

  The cumbersome ski boots slowed his pace as he skirted the ice to get to her. His gaze never left her body. “Brenna!” he shouted frantically.

  She didn't move.

  Taylor feared the worst. He prayed the whole time he inched toward her. Finally, with his heart lodged in his throat, he reached her.

  “Brenna,” he said as he ran his hand over her arms, checking for broken bones. He felt her throat for a pulse and gave a silent prayer of thanks when he found one. Still, she hadn't responded. Gently, he rolled Brenna over and cradled her in his arms. She had an egg-size lump on her head that had already turned a reddish-purple. More than likely she had a concussion, and he prayed there was nothing more serious.

  “Brenna,” he choked out her name. When she didn't open her eyes, he pulled off his gloves and pushed the hair from her face. Somewhere during her ordeal, she'd lost her headband. He couldn't stop touching her face, tenderly caressing her cheeks and forehead, trying to give her his strength.

  Without thinking, Taylor lowered his head and brushed her cold lips. “Speak to me, love. Open those beautiful eyes,” he murmured against her mouth. “T--tell me to go to hell . . . anything . . .”

  Taylor felt a slight movement. He jerked his head back and stared at her, willing her eyelids to open. He saw a teardrop on her cheek, and only then did he realize that he was crying.

  It seemed like an eternity before her long, sooty lashes fluttered open just as Taylor looked up to see the bright orange jackets of the ski patrol coming. He glanced down at her with blurred vision; he saw confused green eyes, starring back at him.

  “Am I dead?” she managed to get out in a soft whisper.

  “No.” Taylor wanted to shout with relief; instead he smiled and tightened his arms around her. “You're very much alive.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  He gave a strangled kind of laugh. “Men don't cry, sweetheart. It's just the cold wind.” He brushed off her comment. “Are you all right?”

  “My leg hurts,” she said just as the ski patrol arrived, “And I have one hell of a headache.”

  One of the men called out, “Is she injured?”

  “Yes, hurry!” Taylor said impatiently

  “Taylor.” Brenna gained his attention again.

  “Yes, sweetheart.”

  “I lo--.” She passed out never finishing her sentence.

  The snowmobile stopped, and several men jumped off. “Looks like she's broken her ankle,” one of the paramedics commented after a quick examination. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out an inflated splint and placed it around her ankle. Next they placed a spinal collar around her neck.

  “What's that for?”

  The paramedic didn't bother to turn around, instead he said over his shoulder, “For precaution.”

  “Will she be all right?” Taylor asked.

  “I hope so. I don't like the looks of that lump on her head.” The man bent over and he and another paramedic lifted Brenna into a stretcher-basket.

  Another member of the ski patrol brought Taylor his discarded skis. “Look, we only have room for--”

  “Brenna. Her name is Brenna Fox.”

  “Here are your skis.” The young kid handed them to Taylor. “You'll have to go down on your own power. I assure you you'll be safe the rest of the way.”

  “Thanks.” Taylor brushed the snow from his boots and slid them into the bidding. “Where are you taking her?”

  “To Ridgeway Hospital,” the medic said as he started the snowmobile. “Are you her next of kin?”

  “No. She has a sister down below.”

  “In that case you better get her to the hospital.” The unspoken threat of something more serious lingered in the medic's eyes.

  Taylor looked down at Brenna one last time. What had she been about to say? It sounded very much like love. Had she finally admitted she loved him and regretted leaving? The way she'd been acting he couldn't be sure, but what if she did love him. What then? That only presented new problems.

  He squeezed her hand and his stomach tightened. He didn't want to leave her, but Taylor knew he had to get Lisa and Carol who didn't know what had happened. He prayed Lisa had the keys to the Jeep or they would have no transportation to the hospital.

  Taylor thought about the dilemma he was slowly digging himself into as he skied the rest of the slope. He and Brenna were so different from the young kids who had fallen in love. She'd made a new life for herself, one that didn't include him. And he had his own life, but that wasn't saying much. He'd worked hard at the bank and established three new branches since he'd taken control. He couldn't give that up and he didn't think Brenna would return to River Run.

  Then there was Carol.

  Taylor knew he didn't feel for Carol what he did for Brenna. But he wasn't sure if what he felt for Brenna was anything more than old memories . . . what could have been. Until he stepped into this town he would have sworn that his love for her was dead and buried with the past. Maybe he was in love with a memory and nothing more.

  When Taylor reached the bottom of the run, he wasted little time skiing over to the bunny slopes where he spotted Lisa right away preparing to go down a small hill.

  “Wait a minute, muffin!”

  “Taylor! What are you doing back here so soon?”

  He didn't answer as he searched around for Carol. “Where is Carol?”

  Lisa pointed to her right. “She's over there. I think she likes the ski instructor.”

  He followed to where Lisa had indicated and saw Carol sitting on a bench, talking to her instructor. She was laughing and looked very happy, he thought. Much happier than when she was with him. Just maybe Carol was having her doubts, too.

  “Come on, Lisa.” He took her hand. “We've got to go.”

  “Why?” Lisa asked. “And where is Brenna?”

  “She has had a small accident.” He cupped his hands and called, “Carol!” Seeing her look up, he motioned for her to come over.

  Lisa grabbed his arm. “What do you mean? Has she been hurt?”

  “Yes, muffin. She's broken her ankle.” He saw the tears spring into the child's eyes, and he pulled her to him. “Don't cry.” He rubbed Lisa's back. “I promise Brenna is going to be all right.”

  “What's wrong?” Carol came up.

  “Brenna's had an accident.”

  “How?”

  “I'll explain in the car.” Taylor held Lisa back and wiped her eyes. “Lisa, do you have the keys?”

  She wiped her cheeks and dug in her pocket producing a shining set of silver keys. “We always carry two sets when we go off in case something happens.”

  “Good.” He took the keys and heaved the skis on his shoulder. “Come on, let's go.”

  Taylor explained what had transpired as they drove to the hospital. The congested festival traffic slowed their progress to a snail's pace. He managed to keep his composure when he really wanted to tell everyone to get the hell out of his way.

  Finally they arrived at Ridgeway Hospital. Lisa called this place a hospital? Taylor had his doubts. The place was smaller than his house back home. But once
inside the building, he felt a little better. At least it smelled like a hospital, and the head nurse looked like a football player.

  “Where is Brenna Fox?” Taylor demanded.

  The nurse peered over the rim of her reading glasses not the least bit intimidated with his tone of voice. “Are you her next of kin?”

  “No,” Taylor said as calmly as he could. “Just a friend.”

  “I'm her sister,” Lisa interjected, squeezing herself between Taylor and the nurse's station.

  The nurse turned her stiff-necked head towards her. “Lisa, dear, I didn't recognize you.” The old battle-ax then smiled. “Brenna broke her ankle, and they're setting it now. You can have a seat in the waiting room.” The nurse pointed down the hall. “I'll call you when you can see her.”

  “Are you sure she's okay?” Lisa persisted.

  “The doctor will talk to you later, but Brenna will be just fine. So don't worry,” the old battle-ax did take time to reassure her. “I promise.”

  Taylor reluctantly left with the two ladies, moving down the brown and white tiled hallway to the sitting room where he sat down on a brown vinyl couch and folded his arms across his chest to begin the long wait.

  “This place looks a lot different inside,” Carol commented as she bent over and picked up a magazine from one of the end tables.

  “I used to spend a lot of time here,” Lisa admitted.

  “I can't believe they haven't flown Brenna to Asheville,” Taylor grunted. “To a real hospital.”

  Lisa cocked her head to the side. “Are you angry, Taylor?”

  Taylor relaxed and smiled at the child. “A little,” he confessed. “But not at you. At myself,” he admitted. “I should never have let your sister go down the slope first. But having said that, I want Brenna to get the best care, and I'll pay for everything.”

  “This is a good hospital even though it's small. We have a good orthopedic surgeon right here. He's the one who operated on my hip, when the other doctors said I’d never walk again.”

  “Isn't that unusual in this rural town?” Carol butted in. “And what kind of accident were you in?”

  “Well, you see, Dr. Mac got fed up with the city life, so he and two other doctors moved here to Hollow Ridge. Dr. Mac said he didn't want to be the richest man in the world. He just wanted to help people and have a nice place to raise his family.”

  “But what about your hip?” Carol asked. “Did you fall?”

  “Taylor hasn’t told you?”

  “No I haven’t, muffin,” Taylor said quickly, then address Carol, “Lisa was shot. It’s a long story. I will explain later.”

  Carol shrugged.

  Taylor asked, “Lisa, you said the doctor had a family?”

  “Dr. Mac has twin girls that are my age. We go to school together.”

  “If you're going to be an orthopedic doctor, a ski resort would be a perfect place to practice.” Carol laughed. “I'm going to miss this place when we leave tomorrow.” She looked at Taylor. “Won't you?”

  Taylor stared at Carol a moment before answering a weak, “Yes, I will.”

  After two hours, Taylor had shifted into every imaginable position, and still the couch was as hard as a rock. Would that doctor never come out? Taylor checked his watch again.

  Glancing over at Carol, he saw her sitting comfortably in a recliner, reading a magazine. And Lisa had curled up on the couch across from him sound asleep. She looked so much younger in her sleep, almost like an angel. He shifted in the chair again. He'd tried reading, but his mind kept drifting back to the split-second he'd seen Brenna crumpled under a tree not knowing if she were dead or alive. His heart raced at the thought that he could have lost her forever. He glanced at his watch again; he'd give the doctor ten more minutes and not a minute more.

  “I got here as soon as I heard,” Geraldine said as she rushed in the small sitting room out of breath. Her coat was half on or half off her shoulder and her hat sat sideways on her head. “How is Brenna?”

  Everyone jumped at the sudden sound. Lisa sat up, rubbed her eyes, then she went over to hug Geraldine. “Brenna has broken her foot.”

  “What did Dr. Mac say?”

  “I don't believe there is such a person,” Taylor grumpily replied with a sigh before shifting for the hundredth time trying to find a comfortable position.

  “We haven't seen the doctor yet.” Carol smoothed over Taylor's remark.

  Geraldine raised her brow. “Be back in a shake.” She turned and marched out of the room and down the hall.

  Taylor couldn't help but smile. She looked like General Patton marching into battle.

  “W--where is she going?” Carol asked.

  Her question was answered in less than two minutes when Geraldine returned with a man in tow who appeared to be a doctor dressed in surgical green.

  “Sorry to take so long, folks,” the doctor apologized. “But that was a nasty break. I had to put a pin in Brenna's foot.”

  “How is my sister?” Lisa beat Taylor in asking the question he wanted answered.

  “Hi, Lisa.” Dr. Mac smiled a warm friendly greeting, but he'd failed to respond to the question. Instead he asked his own question. “Would you like to introduce me to your friends?”

  “I'm sorry,” Lisa said. “This is Taylor. He's a friend of ours from back home. And this is Carol, his friend.”

  “I'm sorry to meet you under such circumstances. I'm doctor Mac McBride.” He reached out and shook Taylor's hand.

  “It's good to meet you, Doctor. But how is Brenna?”

  “As I said, I had to put a pin in her foot, but I'll have to wait until tomorrow before I can put on a cast.” He rubbed his neck and turned to Lisa. “I'm afraid your sister has had a nasty bump and is still unconscious. We're going to have to keep her overnight.”

  “She's not going to die?” Lisa clutched the doctor's coat.

  “Of course not,” he comforted her. “We just want to keep an eye on her like I've already explained to Geraldine.”

  “When will she wake up?”

  Taylor walked over and placed a reassuring hand on Lisa's shoulder. “I bet Brenna will be asking for you in the morning.”

  “Of course, she will,” Geraldine added. “Why don't ya let them go in and see her, Dr. Mac.? I think it will make Lisa rest a mite easier.”

  “Good idea. But don't stay too long,” he cautioned and waited until the women had left. “Taylor.” Dr. Mac said. “It's funny,” he paused, “Brenna mumbled 'Taylor' a couple of times before we put her under, and I wasn't quite sure what or who she meant. Now I know she was calling for you.” Dr. Mac reached out and patted Taylor on the shoulder. “I'm glad you're here to be with both of them. It's been hard on those two young women without any family. When I first met Brenna there was little hope that Lisa would walk again, but Brenna insisted that her sister would recover no matter what it cost.”

  Taylor shook his head. “That sounds like Brenna. She's a strong-willed woman, and she was devastated when her sister was shot. But you said they were alone. Wasn't Brenna's boyfriend here to help her?”

  “I never met a boyfriend, and she never said anything about one.” The doctor looked puzzled by the question. “If she had a boyfriend, he wasn't much of a man in helping her out. Do you know what actually happened?” the doctor asked. “I've often wondered, and Brenna never told me anything.”

  “I can understand why,” Taylor said. “Brenna came home from college one day to find both her parents dead and Lisa shot in the hip. Lisa later told Brenna that her father was yelling at their mother. Lisa ran in the room as he shot their mother and then being surprised he turned the rifle and shot Lisa. If Brenna had been home she would probably be dead too.” After he'd finished, Taylor realized just what hell Brenna had been through.

  “Oh my God,” Doc Mac said. “Did they find out why?”

  Taylor shook his head. “They never found out anything. The strange part was her father was such a mild tempered man. Brenna tho
ught the world of him.

  For a moment, Taylor was transported back to that time. He'd been young, and he couldn't understand why she didn't forget everything and lean on him. He'd offered her love and had thought that was enough. He had never really told Brenna, but he would have gone to the ends of the earth to get Lisa some help.

  Now that he was older, he saw things a little more clearly. Something just didn't add up.

  When Taylor entered Brenna's room the three ladies were staring at the patient as if she were dead. His stomach twisted in a knot as his eyes darted to the heart monitor where he found a steady beat.

  She was as white as the sheets that covered her, and her foot was supported in a sling. “Has she said anything?”

  “Not a word,” Geraldine whispered. “I don't like seein' her like this.”

  Taylor felt the same way, but refrained from voicing his opinion. He watched the rise and fall of Brenna's chest, and he forced himself to hide the fact that he wanted to hold her until she recovered. Somehow, he didn't think Carol would understand how he felt.

  Lisa moved over and picked up her sister's hand. Just about that time, a nurse stuck her head in the door. “Can I ask you folks to step outside? I need to check on the patient.”

  Taylor watched the women leave, but before he left, he went over to the bed. He stared at Brenna's whitewashed face and the huge blue lump on her head before reaching down and squeezing her hand. He rubbed his thumb back and forth across her warm skin. “How do I feel about you, Brenna?” he whispered. “I'm not sure even I can answer that question.” Taylor turned and left the room.

  “The Doc said it would be a good idea if someone stayed with Brenna tonight,” Geraldine was saying as Taylor came over to where they stood. “I'd stay but I've got guests to cook for, and I know Brenna wouldn't want her business goin' down the drain.”

  “I'll stay,” Lisa volunteered.

  “You're a mite young, sweetheart. 'Sides I'll be needin' your help around the Inn.” Geraldine turned to Taylor. “I could sure use your help if ya could see fit.”