Free Beyond the Storm (9780758276995) by Joseph Pittman

it, catching Adam and Vanessa in its wake.
    â€œSo, got any fresh ideas?” Vanessa asked.
    â€œI’d like to go back to my original one of a shower. Might help clear my mind.”
    â€œFine, you get cleaned up first, I’ll see about some food. Got any favorites?”
    Adam smiled. “Spam and baked beans, at the rate we’re going.”
    â€œGo shower, see about that cut on your side. Your shirt is sticking to it.”
    Adam had nearly forgotten about the streaks of blood on his side from where the seat belt had shredded both shirt and skin. The cotton material was probably caked into his skin, peeling it away would not be the prettiest of things. Hopefully the shower had hot water and could help melt away the pain.
    He started off, but quickly turned around. “Hey, Vanessa?”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œThis is kinda weird, isn’t it?”
    â€œYou could say that.”
    â€œI did.”
    She laughed at him, the sound filling the cozy room. “Thanks, Adam. After the stress of the accident, I think I needed that kind of release.”
    â€œI think we both did. We need to laugh. The other option is . . .”
    Vanessa quieted him by placing a finger to his lip, the physical act so quick but intimate. Adam nearly kissed her finger in return, but something held him back. “Go. I have a strange sense we’re not going anywhere for a while, so there’s plenty of time for talk . . . you know, later. Guess we’re going to have our own reunion.” She paused, and again her eyes glazed over with a faraway look. Then what came out next was but a whisper of emotion. “A private reunion, and one a long time coming.”
    â€œOur cars crashing like that, you think something else is at work here?”
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œFate? Destiny? If you believe in such things,” he asked, his words like a question.
    â€œDo you?”
    A strange, uncertain look crossed over Adam’s face, his eyes darting around the spacious kitchen and homely feel of yesteryear. A chill hit him, despite the humidity floating through the house. “I feel like I’ve been here before.”
    â€œWell, we did grow up in Danton Hill.”
    â€œNo, no, I mean this house.”
    She shook her head. “I don’t think so, at least, nothing strikes me as familiar. You?”
    Adam continued to look around at the old-fashioned country kitchen. What stared back should have been homespun, old-fashioned warmth. Instead, that chilling sensation remained, digging deeper into him. He shivered. “I guess not.”
    â€œYou want to know what I think?” Vanessa asked. “You banged your head good and it’s making you think weird thoughts.”
    He wanted to be convinced. The uncertainty, though, was beginning to settle in.
    â€œStill, it’s like something brought us here.”
    She pushed him away. “Stop spooking me. Go, get cleaned up.”
    As Vanessa began to pour over the kitchen supplies to see about getting some food into their systems, Adam made his exit. He hobbled back down the hallway and, with a strong grip on the railing, began to make his way up the long wooden flight of stairs near the entrance hall. With sweat now mixing with the mud and blood, he at last came to the landing on the second floor, sensing that shower spray just down the hall. Opening door after door, passing bedrooms and, thankfully, a stocked linen closet. He grabbed a couple of clean towels, and then continued to the next door, where he at last found the bathroom. There was both a separate shower stall and a large, claw-foot tub, and while the idea of luxuriating in a bath was appealing, what he needed right now was the pelting spray of the shower to wash away all the mud and muck. As he adjusted the nozzles, he thought of the irony of going from outside rain to shower, how one had sullied him, the other would cleanse him like a baptism. Adam then began to