A sneak peek inside my latest release, a Christian romantic suspense novel
Chapter One
With one road in and out, Emma Lynde could navigate from Camp Promise to her hometown of Shaunitoc, Wisconsin with her eyes closed. Under better circumstances, she might enjoy the ride. She hadn’t been back for a visit lasting more than a few days in years and always loved the scenic vistas on the stretch of two-lane highway.
“Are you sure that you don’t mind?” Lucille Thomas asked, sitting behind her desk in the cedar paneled outbuilding. Her frown deepened the wrinkles around her green eyes. “Sorry to ask you to head into town in the rain, but you’re the only one who knows the way. We can’t kick off a reunion without a cake.”
Emma waved off the concern on the elderly summer camp owner’s furrowed brow. In all actuality, Emma minded a lot. Heavy rain fell in sheets, tapping against the cabin’s metal roof like a professional dancer. She didn’t drive very often and had taken a ride share to reach the camp from the airport. But she hadn’t returned to disappoint the people she still cared about. “It’s okay, Mrs. Thomas. I’ve got it.”
“If I could find Owen, I wouldn’t ask you, dear,” Mrs. Thomas said. “He’s probably off fixing up something. A handyman’s job is never finished.”
Emma wasn’t sure the handyman in question ever started his work. Since arriving, she’d spotted nothing but split screens, rotting steps, and leaky windows. “I’m sure, Mrs. Thomas. I can run into town.”
“Please call me Lucille, dear. I feel ancient when an adult calls me Mrs. Thomas.”
“Of course, Lucille.” The name stilled on Emma’s tongue. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’ll be back soon.” Emma grabbed the keys to the old SUV off the hook on the camp office wall and flipped up the hood on her raincoat before stepping out the screened door.
She paused outside, breathing deep the clean, cool, pine-soaked air. Throughout the year here, she had always kept her sweats readily accessible. She had loved the warm, sun-kissed days and chilly, star-filled nights. Temperature hadn’t been what prompted her move away from home.
She hustled through the storm toward the parking lot, taking a part-gravel, part-dirt path.
The heavily wooded summer camp claimed over two hundred acres of pristine Wisconsin beauty. With gentle rolling hills and—of course—a lake—the picturesque spot was as familiar to her as her childhood home. Maybe more so. While her old house had been renovated before being sold a decade ago, the camp hadn’t changed.
She scanned the tree line for Mrs. Thomas’s son, Owen, but only spotted a few other middle-aged adults racing toward the mess hall and the promise of coffee. She assured Mrs. Thomas of her capability, but Emma wouldn’t mind giving the task to Owen, even if that meant engaging in an uncomfortable conversation with him.
“Owen? Owen, are you out here?” She rubbed her hands together, willing him to appear. No response.
A streak of lightning flashed through the sky. Bang. She jumped. The loud pop sounded like a firework explosion.
A few feet to her right, a pine branch cracked and fell to the ground. The strike hit a tree before the boom of thunder? She shivered. She’d been so close, she could have been struck.
As far as nightmares went, hers was nothing to most people. Caught in a storm in the woods, unable to get out or get help. Before the terrible night and the dreams that followed, she used to enjoy the clap of thunder and patter of rain. But she couldn’t go back to being that carefree girl no matter how much she wanted to.
“Owen?” Her voice cracked into a sob. “Please?” She begged for a way out.
A hint of something metallic hung in the air, almost a phantom scent. Another pop erupted nearby before a deep rumble of thunder.
Wrenching open the unlocked door of the rusty SUV, she hopped behind the wheel. A skin-crawling sensation raised the hairs on her neck. She twisted her head from side to side, spotting no one else. With a shake, she gripped the steering wheel and headed toward town.
Rain pelted the windshield. She powered the wipers up to their maximum speed setting, the whoosh-whoosh in time with her pounding heart. The windows fogged with her warm breath. She turned the defroster on high, the white noise of the fans almost enough to calm her down.
Navigating down the private access road, she steered around shallow ruts and tree roots. Clutching the wheel, she leaned as far forward as possible, studying the old asphalt. She’d seen the disrepair of many of the cabins and was on her guard for similar neglect on the roadway. Twilight and the lack of street lamps added to the low visibility.
Give her a city’s public transit system to navigate any day. She hadn’t missed driving since heading to Chicago for college and staying for her career as a behavioral counselor. When she reached the main road, she released a heavy sigh. The county highway had been repaved, eliminating potholes from her list of worries.
An engine’s roar echoed over the storm on the lonely stretch of highway. A flash of red caught in her peripheral vision. In the rearview mirror, she spotted a smaller vehicle racing toward her. Her driving skills were rusty, but she wouldn’t be pushed by someone else’s reckless behavior. She kept her speed steady.
The other car wasn’t slowing. Her pulse pounded as she scanned the twisty section of rain-slicked road. She couldn’t pull her big vehicle completely off the road and onto the shoulder without slamming into trees. The embankment barely fit a car; let alone a hulking, old SUV. On the opposite side, a guardrail hugged the shoulder to stop a vehicle careening off the hillside.
Where did the other driver think she could go? The driver flashed their high beams.
For a second, Emma shut her eyes against the glare. The SUV skidded across the wet pavement. She jerked the wheel, braking with all her strength and rolling into the embankment. She yanked on the emergency brake, stopping before the tree-line.
Her seat belt tugged tight, holding her back from hitting her head against the wheel and squeezing her upper torso.
The red car sped off, crossing the double yellow line and veering into the oncoming traffic lane as it took the curve too fast.
She couldn’t make out the driver. Why had they followed so close? Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, dulling all other sounds. Why would someone run her off the road? At the camp, she’d avoided the lightning strike. Two close calls didn’t feel like coincidence. It felt like a warning. Her blood chilled in her veins.
She turned on her hazards and drew in a deep, shaky breath, needing a minute. Physically, she was okay. In another mile, she would have reached the section with a passing lane and would have veered far to the right to let every vehicle race past her. At least the airbag hadn’t deployed. She might be able to reverse out of the ditch and back onto the road.
If she stayed in the soft embankment too long, the heavy vehicle on the rain-soaked ground would sink. With her arm wrapped around the passenger seat, she turned in the driver’s seat as she reversed.
Lights flashed again.
She blinked and squinted, braking to study the latest approaching vehicle. A pick-up truck grew larger and larger behind her. Who was driving? Why so fast? Dread gripped her in its icy clutches.
The other vehicle’s lights flickered again as the driver flashed high beams at close range and swerved on the slick road. The truck crossed the double yellow lines and zagged back, careening along the solid white line.
She studied the nearing vehicle and did a double take.
Owen. He pointed to the side of the road with frantic, sharp gestures and mouthed stay there. He shot her an incredulous look. His expression tight. His eyes wild.
She’d known Owen Thomas nearly her entire life. When they were kids, he’d been in love with her sister. After losing her, he sought Emma for intense conversations about Liz and details about the fateful night that Emma couldn’t remember. The hot, glassy stare he flashed her from the other vehicle sent another wave of unease crashing into her.
She shivered. “Give him grace,” she reprimanded herself.
After all, he’d stayed behind to help his family run their girls’ summer camp. With his obsession for conspiracy theories, he wasn’t capable of holding a job for anyone else.
Emma shook her head and put the SUV in park. Maybe he could tow her out. Or perhaps she’d be better off letting him drive her back to camp. Mrs. Thomas would be disappointed not to have the cake, but Emma wasn’t eager to go any further on the road with so many drivers acting like they were in a video game and not real life.
The lighting and thunder had passed, but rain continued to fall. The cool droplets would help lower her rising body temperature. Unbuckling her seat belt, Emma got out of the car. She needed solid ground under her feet.
Lights approached from the other direction. She turned away from the bright light.
His vehicle crossed in front of hers.
The squealing of tires preceded another roar of a revving engine. This time the sound came from ahead and near.
She glanced up in time to witness a red car crash into Owen’s truck.
“OWEN!” she cried, frozen in place.
The other car raced off, speeding so fast the driver was a blur. Had that been the same car that ran her off earlier? Had the car purposefully turned around?
She had to help Owen. Misgivings or no. Service to others was her life’s mission, her way to atone for the regrets she carried about her sister. She rushed to the other vehicle, her worn sneakers slipping in puddles on the asphalt.
“Owen, Owen,” she shouted as she neared. With every step, her stomach clenched tighter. The accident was more serious than she’d suspected after the other car fled.
The front bumper was crushed and crumpled like an old aluminum can. Broken headlights illuminated the scene. The windshield had shattered. Behind the wheel, Owen slumped forward.
“Owen?” The name was half gasp, half cry.
He lifted his head, his eyes glassy, a cut in his forehead spilling blood down his face. He met her gaze with a startling clarity and then dropped his eyelids.
“Hey, hey, I’m calling for help.” She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and held up the screen. “You stay with me, okay? Stay awake. No going to sleep.” Her fingers fumbled with the phone. The rain didn’t help, covering her screen with a layer of water and obscuring her touch. She rubbed the cell on her pants and tried again, finally dialing 9-1-1.
“Liz? No accidents, Liz,” Owen croaked, his voice thick and rusty.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the operator answered.
For a second, Emma froze. Liz? Her twin sister? Was he hallucinating? Emma had returned at the urging of her therapist to heal her wounds and reclaim her lost memories. The pain remained too fresh, overwhelming her every time she tried to think back on the last moments with her sister. Emma trusted Him but struggled to forgive herself.
“Shh, shh,” Emma cooed. “I’m here, Owen. It’s me, Emma.”
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the operator persisted.
“Yes, hello.” She choked on the words. “I’m out on Route 14. There’s been a hit and run accident. It’s bad. Near Camp Promise. Please hurry. Bring an ambulance.”
Rachelle Paige Campbell 