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LENGTH:Full Novel
SENSUALITY:Sweet/Sensual

Cover art (c) Alex DeShanks 2008
ISBN 978-1-60394-166-2
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It was the infant’s wail that called her out into the killer storm racing toward her and her name called on the wind, but it was more than that that pulled Alissa until she stepped through the doorway in time and found herself with a family her heart and soul recognized even though she didn’t.

It wasn’t the ‘how’ of it that troubled her, though, it was the ‘why’ she’d lost two years of her life. It was the question of who the woman was that she’d become in those two years lost to her. Why and how could she have changed so much and who was it that wanted her dead?

Rating: Sweet/Sensual.

OUT OF THE STORM

By

Allie Harrison

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s

imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or

events is merely coincidence

Chapter One

Alissa Montgomery never really knew what drew her attention first—the calling of her name in the wind or the child’s cry.

She only knew she was called outside, into the gathering storm. Outside the back door on the wide porch, she stopped to listen again.

“Aaaalllllisssssssssaaaa .…”

There, she heard it again. It really was the sound of her name on the wind. The call was followed by a low rumble of strong, approaching thunder. Then, once the thunder was over, Alissa heard the child’s cry again. It was a baby’s cry, and it caused her heart to pound. Who would leave a baby out here?

Even the door on the old red barn banging closed along with the building wind could not drown out the sound of a baby crying. It had to be close and there were no other houses within sight. For a long moment, Alissa stared at the old barn, the building that had been her reason for buying the house. She hoped to someday fill that building with horses.

Neither her name called on the wind nor the baby’s cry came from that direction.

Filled with dark, angry clouds of gray, green and black that rolled at a pace that left Alissa slightly dizzy, the sky looked frightening. Lightning touched down in the distance and the loud crack of thunder that followed caused her to start. She had been so caught up in the story she was trying to put together that she hadn’t even realized a storm of this magnitude was drawing close. She should be in the dank basement she put off cleaning instead of out on the porch. It was, after all, not uncommon for tornadoes to touch down here in the heart of Illinois.

The baby’s cry was like a cold hand that kept her from fleeing to the safety of the basement.

The wind blew her hair wildly, and she was forced to brush it out of her face as she searched the field before her for the baby she heard. She saw nothing but the grass blowing in the strong wind. The baby let out a loud wail, and maternal instinct called her, compelled her to move. Following the sound of crying, she left the porch. The freshly cut grass was soft and cool beneath her bare feet. She wouldn’t normally be out barefooted in April, but the storm was closer and the baby’s cry was closer so it was too late now to go back for a pair of sneakers.

Away from the shelter of the house, the air was charged with energy that caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. Also the air was cool, much cooler than Alissa remembered it being before. Doing her best to ignore the threatening weather, Alissa followed the calling of her name and the crying toward the meadow, that strange place where the purple flowers grew in the spring and summer and even up to the first snowfall. The wind whipped her hair about even more than before. Fighting against it, she wished she’d tied it back. Then her name was called again, and she ignored her hair and continued to the meadow.

Lightning struck, touching down just ahead of her, startling her enough to nearly knock her off her feet as it blinded her momentarily and hurt her ears with its crash as the ground shook beneath her feet.

The baby’s crying grew louder, telling her she grew close to its origin.

“Where are you, little one?” she asked out loud, yet her own words were quickly lost in the sound of the wind. It amazed her she could still hear the baby when she could hardly hear her own voice.

The clouds rolled together in a terrifying force, and Alissa felt hot and cold at once. Her face was warm, burning. Still, she shivered against it. She worked to ignore it, just as she tried to ignore the terror of the storm as she moved on, desperately needing to find the baby and bring it comfort.

Suddenly she heard the baby behind her. How could she have passed it by? Having no idea or time to dwell on that question, she turned back, feeling deep in her heart she had to find this child. Now. She had to get the two of them away from the danger of the storm.

Then she saw it. There on the ground amidst a thousand violet flowers was a pink blanket. She ran, despite the chance of lightning. It seemed like forever before she reached the blanket, and when she did, she found herself oddly out of breath as she dropped to her knees beside it.

Her eyes filled with unexplainable tears, blurring her vision and for a moment, she thought it was nothing more than a pink blanket. And the relief she’d felt when she thought she had found the baby was washed away by an overwhelming sense of dread when she saw there was nothing more than a blanket.

She must be crazy, she thought. To be drawn out in the midst of a wild, dangerous force of nature thinking she needed to find a crying baby only to find a blanket. Yes, she must be losing her mind. Her loneliness, and her inability to put herself back into life after Porter’s death had finally sent her over the edge to a point where she heard voices and babies crying.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered, refusing to believe she was crazy. Her time here in her farmhouse had healed her. It hadn’t made her worse than before. She was over her fiancé’s death. She’d made it nearly a month now without wondering where she’d be had he lived.

She blinked away the tears and her vision cleared as the wind grew even stronger.

And she saw the small form beneath the blanket. It moved.

Quickly, she pulled the blanket back and stared down in shock at what had been hidden beneath it.

She was beautiful. A girl baby wearing a pink sleeper, Alissa recognized, with little hands balled up into fists and feet and arms and legs that kicked and moved more now that they were free of the slight weight of the blanket. Her fuzzy, dark curls blew in the wind.

“Oh my,” Alissa breathed, staring at the baby, a thousand questions flowing through her mind. This was impossible. The house was nearly eight miles from the resort town of Valley, Illinois, and almost a full mile from the nearest house or neighbor or the shores of the lake. There was nothing here but meadows and fields, Alissa’s house and barn.

The baby stared up at Alissa just as she stared down. She had large, bright blue eyes, and then she offered a toothless grin.

A large raindrop broke the stare, landing right on the baby’s chubby left cheek. She blinked at the suddenness of it and frowned as if she might cry again at any moment.

The storm was growing even more dangerous with each passing minute. It was time to race back to the house. She’d dwell on how the infant got here when they were safely under the roof again. In the strange light of the day, something on the grass nearby glistened and sparkled, catching her eye. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out and picked it up, only to find the most beautiful antique gold ring she’d ever seen.

“How did this get out here?” she muttered, as though the building storm could answer her. She stared at the ring for another moment, her mental questions cut off with another close bolt of lightning and an immediate reply of thunder.

Just to keep from losing it, she slipped the ring onto her finger, not paying much attention to the fact that it fit her. She grabbed the child a bit clumsily as she was trying to move quickly and she pulled herself to her feet, feeling tired but restless. Her main concern now was their safety. Holding the baby tightly, she had to bend back down and scoop up the blanket. She thought it strange how the baby trusted her and even seemed to hold on to her. Then once in her arms, safe from the storm, the infant snuggled against her as though she now knew she was safe and she could draw warmth from Alissa.

Yet, neither of them was safe. The storm grew in intensity, seeming to roar with anger. Another drop of rain landed on Alissa’s nose and the force of it nearly stung. With the baby tightly in her grasp, she turned and ran for the house, feeling as if the storm was following right behind her, chasing her, trying to catch her and hold both her and the baby in its grip, only to beat them with its rain until there was no escape. Alissa stared at the house in the distance, a safe haven. And behind her, the storm raged like an angry monster because she was trying to escape its claws.

In her arms, the baby started to cry again.

“It’s all right. It’s all right, honey.” Alissa tried to calm her, holding the baby tightly against her, trying to keep from shaking her as she ran. “We just have to get to the house, that’s all. It’s just a little rain.” What a lie. And the infant didn’t fall for it, either. As for Alissa, she didn’t dare look back to see if it was just a little rain or not, for whatever chased them sounded so much worse than just a bit of rain. She was terrified to think perhaps it was a tornado, so she didn’t waste the time looking back to see.

The baby’s soft, fuzzy hair touched Alissa’s chin and felt like soft spider webbing. Alissa could smell the fresh, clean scent of the child in her arms. And she thought it was strange how those things could affect her through her fear. Yet, it seemed the storm had heightened her awareness of everything else around her.

“Alissa!”

For a moment, Alissa thought it was just the wind again, and she ran on. The house grew near. The storm chased her from behind, but she thought she and the baby should make it before the rain hit in full force and drenched them both.

“Alissa!” It was a bellow, and it wasn’t the wind. It was a man’s voice and was near enough to cause her to stop.

She turned back to face the storm, holding the baby protectively, ignoring the baby’s fervent cries, and she tried to recognize the voice she heard. There was no one behind her. Nor was there a tornado. All the clouds had to do, however, was touch down and there would be one. And with the storm and the wind, the sound of her name could have come from any direction. Quickly, Alissa turned to the steps of the porch at the side of the house.

And she nearly ran into him as he came barreling around the corner of the house toward her.

If Alissa hadn’t known better, she would have thought he somehow simply walked right out of the storm, for as she’d run toward the house, she’d been able to see this side and there had been no one there. He startled her so that she took several steps back away from him.

All Alissa could do was stare at him. He stopped short, too, seeming to be just as surprised to see her there. Slowly, he approached, taking one step closer, then another.

Was he stalking her? The question came from nowhere. Beneath the tee shirt and denim jacket he wore, it was easy to see he was large, muscular, tanned. His jeans and hair were black, and he looked as threatening as the dark clouds. He moved like a huge, sleek panther preparing to pounce.

Give this man an eye patch, she thought, and a sword and an earring, and he’d make a great pirate.

She backed away from him more, watching him closely, feeling the first real recognizable claws of fear clamping about her. Who was he? How did he know her name? Her gaze was caught in his. His eyes were blue, like the sky on a brilliant summer day, the same color as the baby’s.

“Alissa? Thank God, you’re all right,” he said, relief evident in his voice. “What happened? What are you doing out here? Didn’t you hear me calling you?” His voice was deep and rich, no longer harsh as when he yelled her name before. He continued to come toward her.

She continued to back away from him, holding the baby to her.

“Stay away from me,” she said evenly.

Her words didn’t stop him, but a look of genuine surprise flashed across his expression.

Another large raindrop hit on the top of her head, reminding her of the approaching rain, the danger of the storm. She backed up to the porch steps and took a step up, fighting the tired, heavy feel of her legs. She kept her gaze on him. She ignored the baby who cried on her shoulder. But it grew harder to ignore as the baby clutched Alissa’s shirt with chubby fists and rubbed her tiny face against her shoulder. And it was impossible to ignore when the baby finally managed to get a handful of Alissa’s hair and give a hearty yank.

“Lis, why are you doing this? Just tell me what’s going on.” The man was still relieved, but Alissa heard an undercurrent of frustration in his tone. He reached out to her, but she jumped out of his reach and stepped up the rest of the stairs to the porch.

“I’m not doing anything,” she choked out, still unable to tear her gaze from his. “I said stay away from me.”

“Don’t shut me out like this. Tell me what’s happening to you,” he said. “We’ve always shared everything.”

“We have?” she asked.

He still reminded her of a panther ready to pounce on its prey. He raked his fingers through his hair, causing it to stand on end, giving him an even wilder appearance.

“Yes, you’ve been putting up a wall between us for the past several weeks, shutting me out more and more. I know that fight we had two weeks ago was the worst ever, but I thought we worked everything out and moved past it. Can’t you just talk to me about this? When I pulled into the garage and saw your car that way, I thought my heart would stop. Please, honey, just talk to me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, still staring at him, thinking he must be crazy, or worse. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“What?” The shock and wonder in his expression lasted longer this time. He reached out toward her with both hands, but when she took another step away from him, he put his hands down, looping his thumbs through his belt loops as if he didn’t know what else to do with them.

“What do you want?” she asked.

They were both on the porch. “What do I want?” he echoed. His confusion was now just as evident as the vein she saw pulsing on this temple. “I only want you, honey. I want everything to be as it used to be with us.”

Alissa stared up at him, obviously as confused as he was. She slowly shook her head, trying to make sense of his words and couldn’t. “What are you talking about? Who are you and where did you come from?”

“Give me the baby,” he said, ignoring her questions, his voice remaining forcibly calm, but his confusion filling his expression and clouding his blue eyes.

All Alissa could do was shake her head a second time as she continued to back away from him. She bumped into something and nearly lost her balance. She managed to tear her gaze from his long enough to look behind her.

How did that chair get there? It wasn’t there when she’d come out into the storm a short time before. She’d never even seen it before.

“Alissa?” he said slowly. He was suddenly so close, she felt the air charged with something like electrical currents that radiated from him. “Give me the baby,” he ordered again.

“I won’t let you have her,” Alissa replied strongly, feeling a surge of maternal emotion pass through her. The need to protect the little girl outweighed her fear of the man before her. In fact, the need to protect the baby was nearly overwhelming. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

His eyes narrowed at her words. Then he blinked at her—twice. “Why would you even think I would hurt her? I would never hurt her. I would die protecting her,” he said, harshness returning to his voice. “I would never hurt you, either. You know that.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!” As quickly as the words were out, he brought his anger under control again. “You, of all people, know me.”

She didn’t know him at all. She’d never seen him before in her life. Not that she didn’t wish she had. He towered over her, looking dangerous, and yet, there was something about him that told her she was, indeed, safe. There was also something strangely familiar about him, something that told her she could trust him, some basic instinct not too different from the maternal instinct she felt for the child in her arms. But could she believe in it?

“Come inside and put the baby to bed,” he said, his voice softening. And his eyes appeared softer, too. “We can talk this out. We can do whatever it takes to work this out.”

“Work out what?” she asked without hesitation. “I have nothing to work out with you.” She didn’t know him. Period. “So you can just get off my porch and leave me alone. If you don’t, I’ll call the police.” Once he left, she could decide what to do with this helpless, beautiful baby that fussed in her arms.

The rain hit then, coming suddenly despite the fact that Alissa had expected it, and it came down harder than she’d ever seen it before. After a mere moment, sheets of water fell from the roof for the gutter wasn’t deep enough to handle the flood. Alissa had the strange feeling that the rain was coming down that way on purpose, as if to say, “Sorry, I’m not letting him leave, not now, not for a while.”

“Come inside, the baby shouldn’t be out here in the dampness like this,” the man said. “And I can’t believe how cold it’s turning.” In her arms, the baby conveyed the same message. She now wiggled and fussed and pulled Alissa’s hair. For such a small baby, she could quickly become hard to hold.

The man took another step toward her and reached out for the baby.

“Stay away from me,” Alissa said, pulling the baby out of his reach.

“Alissa, let’s go in and talk,” he coaxed her, still ignoring her request. “You need to talk to me about this, about why you’re doing these things. I’m worried about you, honey.”

I’m worried about me, too, she thought.

He drew closer. “I know you’ve been suffering with this depression. And I just want to help you .…”

Alissa sidestepped the chair behind her and ignored the flash of pain as the arm of the chair rammed into the back of her leg. “How do you know my name?” she whispered. “Who are you?”

That stopped him from advancing on her. For a long moment, all he did was stare at her. And Alissa had the strange feeling she must have stared at him the same way when she had nearly bumped into him earlier. His next words floored her even more. “You asked me that before, and you’re not making any sense. Did you hit your head or something? You’re my wife, for crying out loud. I’m your husband. I’ve known your name for a long time.”

Slowly, she shook her head, unable to believe a word of it. “That’s impossible, simply impossible,” she said, staring at him. She might have even laughed at the absurdity of it had he not been looking at her so seriously. She didn’t have a husband. She wasn’t a wife. She would have been a wife and Porter would have been her husband had he not died in that accident, but he had and she wasn’t.

Hardly fifteen minutes ago, she had been sitting in her kitchen alone, drinking a glass of tea, thinking about calling her brother, Collin, and asking him to meet her earlier than planned at the Rain Drop Inn. She had to be there so she could interview the bartender regarding the story she was working on for the Jackson Valley Gazette. The article would probably cover most of the front page, giving the details about a robbery attempt at the Inn three nights ago. And Alissa couldn’t finish it until she’d had the interview.

Collin had been on her mind all day, and she thought the two of them could have an early supper at the Inn after she finished getting the bartender’s side of the story. Collin was her only family. She had no husband. Now, as she stared into this man’s eyes, everything else—the story, the Rain Drop Inn, Collin—seemed so far away.

“What?” he asked, staring hard at her. She could have just as well have told him there were green horns growing out of the top of his head. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t have a husband,” she said. It took every bit of strength she had to keep her voice even. In her arms, the baby began to wail wholeheartedly, yelling in her ear, making it hard for her to concentrate.

The man was the first to look away as he let out a heavy sigh. When his gaze again met hers, there was a tenderness so strong Alissa thought she could actually reach out and grasp it. “She’s probably hungry and cold,” he said, indicating the baby and seeming to ignore Alissa’s admission. “And it feels like the temperature’s dropped a good fifteen to twenty degrees. Let’s just take her inside, get her warm and fed and put her to bed for a nap. Then we can deal with everything else.”

The air was cool, and it was still charged, too, Alissa thought. Although the current no longer had anything to do with the storm. All the energy she felt now came from the man before her. His eyes simply sparkled with the deep blue fire filled with energy. And with the way he watched her, he directed all that energy in her direction.

“I don’t know if I have anything to feed her,” Alissa said, pushing his confession of being her husband aside. It was so much easier to think about the baby’s needs just then.

He boldly came closer. Much to her surprise, the baby reached out her chubby baby arms to him. Alissa held on to her. “I stopped at the store in Valley on the way home from work, and I brought everything you said you needed.”

“I said?”

He let out another frustrated sigh, but his voice held no hint of impatience. “Remember, you gave me a list this morning? I was afraid to leave you to go to work this morning, knowing how you’ve been feeling lately, but you insisted you were fine. And you did seem fine.”

Alissa no longer thought she was crazy. No, it was the man who was crazy. For not only had she never seen him before, but she had never given him any list. As for knowing her name, she worked for the Gazette, the town’s only weekly local newspaper. Most people in Jackson Valley knew her or at least knew of her. He could have found out her name in any number of ways.

Alissa backed up and reached the door, thank heavens. If she was quick enough, she could duck inside and lock it before he could get in. That would keep her safe enough, she hoped, until she could call the police and they could take this lunatic away. Maybe they could also tell her what to do with this baby who was quickly becoming too heavy and loud and squirming in her arms.

She stared back at him, feeling the weight of the hard way he watched her. He was ready to spring. She could see that. She was going to have to be very quick if she was going to get through the door and lock it without his stopping her. With one hand holding the fussing baby, she reached back with the other, feeling for the doorknob.

The knob felt different, not that she ever really paid attention to the actual feel of it when she opened the door, but something didn’t feel right as she remembered. She glanced at it, and stopped short, her heart pounding against the wall of her chest. The whole door was different. Gone was the antique plank of wood, the very door she’d stepped through to come out into the storm, the door she knew must have been hung when the house was built a century ago. In its place was a bright white door with a large oval pain of glass. Its etching and design matched the Victorian design of the rest of the house. It was a door she’d once admired in a magazine.

“What happened to the door?” she whispered. Maybe she really was crazy.

“What’s the matter with it?” he asked, stepping closer to look. Now he was much too close for her to slip in and bolt it. Damn.

“It’s different,” she said.

“Different how? It wasn’t that long ago that I replaced the damned thing.” He looked at it. Then he opened it for her. “It’s fine.” As if the baby was caught up in the conversation about the door, she settled down to a mere whimper. “Let’s get her inside before she gets sick.” Without hesitation, and with a tenderness that surprised Alissa, he reached out and patted the baby’s fat cheek. She looked up at him with wide eyes. When she realized he wasn’t going to do any more than pat her cheek, she started to cry again. “Anyone ever tell you you’re beautiful when you’re angry, sweetheart?” he asked the baby. At his words, the baby paused in her wailing for a moment, then continued in full force, turning to rub her face on Alissa’s shoulder. The man smiled at the baby, a sudden twinkle coming to the fire in his eyes. It was such an endearing smile, a smile filled with pride and love that Alissa’s heart skipped a beat.

He ushered her into the kitchen, which was not her kitchen at all. Gone were her wooden splintered cabinets and the old grout tile for a counter. The cabinets were now white and there was bright flowered wallpaper on the walls. Alissa stopped so suddenly that he ran into the back of her, and the heat of his entire body touched her at once.

She would have dwelled on the feel of him, would have dwelled on the current of something close to a jolt of electricity that moved through her at his touch, if she hadn’t been so caught up in the calendar on the wall.

It was a calendar that held the same month she knew it to be, only a different year printed boldly at the top, two years later than what she thought it to be.