Wynn in Doubt by Hemmer Emily

Author:Hemmer, Emily [Hemmer, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2015-10-05T16:00:00+00:00

The windshield wipers work furiously, but the narrow back road remains a blurry mass of brown mud. Oliver leans over the steering wheel. “I can hardly see a thing. I think we should pull over.”

But there’s no place to pull over to. A thick line of trees butts up to either side of the lane. If another car were to come from the opposite direction, we’d have no way to avoid getting hit. After another minute of driving, the tree line on the right breaks away. I squint through the foggy glass. There’s a metal gate a few yards ahead of us. It’s hanging open. I can make out the shape of a barn a short distance behind it. The faded red roof calls out like a beacon in this bad weather.

“What about that?” I point to the smudge of wood in the distance. “Maybe we can pull into the barn until the rain lets up.”

Oliver turns the car onto a gravel drive and stops. “Do you see a house anywhere?”

I turn in my seat, looking as far as I can see in every direction. The land surrounding the barn is vacant. “No, nothing.”

He pulls the car as close to the front of the building as he can get. It’s clear from its weathered wood and unhinged doors that the place was abandoned a while ago. Oliver places his hand on the door release. “Ready to run for it?”

I nod, and we climb out of the car and run. The rain pelts my face and arms. Thunder rumbles so loud and close, it makes me jump. Oliver pulls one door back, just wide enough for us to pass through. The noisy hammering of rain barely subsides as we step inside.

Oliver runs a hand over his hair, sending water droplets to the dirt floor. He looks around, assessing the building. “I really hope this thing doesn’t collapse on us.”

The walls of the barn are full of holes and gaps. Water streams down in several places through cracks in the roof, but otherwise it’s dry, and a lot safer than the road we were stuck on.

“I think it’ll be okay.” The last owners left nothing behind but a few wooden crates, an old boot, and a half-dozen moldy hay bales. I test one of the upturned crates. It seems solid, so I turn it over and have a seat. I’m shivering again, but now it’s from the chill of wet clothes. I wrap my arms around myself.

“Cold?” He squats in front of me, running his hands up and down my arms.

“A little. I’m soaking wet.”

I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he looks at my shirt. His hands stop moving. Every place his gaze lands warms the skin beneath it. I find myself breathing heavily, even though I remain seated.

His eyes linger on my collarbone, and gooseflesh breaks out across my skin. “Do you have a jacket or something in the car?”

My voice is low when I finally find it. “There’s a blanket in the trunk.

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