Callista Sullivan slammed her hands against the smooth wood of the storm door and shoved it out of her way. The
cold night air slapped her face and chilled the dampness around her eyes. She stomped away from Dylan's house, anger
seething in her chest. He'd asked her to marry him again. He dared to bring up the subject even after she made
it clear she wasn't going to consider marriage again, not ever. And then he threatened her. He said he wouldn't
go on with a relationship, no matter how wonderful it was, without more commitment.
Her first marriage
was a nightmare. Dylan knew of all the abuse and hurt she tolerated for five years. She knew Dylan would never
harm her the way her first husband had. At least he wouldn't degrade and isolate her on purpose. She doubted he
would ever leave her huddled in a dark bedroom, nursing a bleeding nose and swollen lip either. But she didn't doubt
it enough. She hadn't thought her first husband would be such a monster.
Callista wrenched her keys free from her stubborn jeans pocket and climbed into her car. She turned
the key with a quick flick of her wrist and yanked the gearshift down. The tires spun in the shale but caught traction
quickly when she reached the paved road. She stopped at the end of the street and glanced down the gently sloping hill
at her left. Lights twinkled in the darkness and brightened at the horizon where the heart of the small city stood.
The desire to be around people eluded her. She leaned forward, her brown hair fell around her
tear streaked chin, and peered out the windshield at the stars. They seemed so bright, like diamonds in a pitch-black
mine. She turned right, into the darkness of the scenic mountain road.
Flipping the headlights on high beam, she sped over the narrow, two-lane road determined not to give
in to Dylan's threats. She wouldn't become anyone's wife again, no matter how much she loved him. She swatted
another tear from her cheek and struggled with the steering wheel when a curve appeared in front of her. The car
swung wide, crossing the centerline despite her efforts to keep it on her side of the road. The glow from the headlights
swept across treetops.
To her left, a steep, jagged mountainside dotted with scraggly brush and weeds, rose up into the
starry sky. To her right the terrain dropped straight down into a river at the bottom. Dylan took her for their
first picnic along the same river. The amazing height and sharpness of the mountainside remained fresh in her mind.
She eased her foot from the accelerator.
She couldn't understand why Dylan wasn't happy with the relationship as it was. They got along
so well and after six years, he still sparked excitement inside her and she believed she did the same for him. The only
flaw was his insistence of marriage and children with the perfect house and job. Callista knew all of it was nothing
more than a dream. Few people ever reached the dream and she knew her chances of ever being one of the lucky ones were
slim. She'd never been lucky. Dylan's love couldn't change it.
Tires squealed. Again she struggled with the wheel. She had to slow down; she had to convince
herself Dylan's decision to leave her was for the best. At least she would still have the sweet memories.
She didn't have good memories from her first marriage. The love she thought the man had had for her
all seemed like lies now. And her parents' marriage had ended when her father used his hunting rifle to stop her
mother from leaving him. Her mother had no such intentions, but insecurities could make a person believe many things.
They were now buried side by side, spending eternity together in their misery with matching holes in their skulls.
The headlights showed another sharp curve ahead. She eased on the brakes, turned the steering wheel, and started around
the mountain. A person walked in the center of her lane.
Callista swerved.
A white dress swept across the windshield just as her car jolted, skidded sideways, and spun out of
control. Trees streaked past the windows as the headlights shined over them in strange, eerie patterns. The sharp,
deep cliff appeared in her mind with the stormy river waiting at the bottom. She prayed, as she struggled with the wheel,
that she wouldn't drop over the edge.
The car slammed to a halt, and she hit the door hard. Her shoulder burned and her neck ached.
Her heart pounded hard, thumping in her head. She peeled her thin fingers from the steering wheel and pushed her hair
from her cheeks so she could see.
Everything was silent. The impact had stalled the engine. The headlights glowed dimly on
the steep mountainside. She sighed. She was still on the right side of the road headed up. She hadn't hit
anything major; except the girl.
She shoved open her door and stumbled out of her car. She spun on one heel looking for the
girl in the white dress. She glanced at the road expecting to see a heap of pale clothes clumped helplessly on the pavement.
There was nothing. Whoever it was must have fallen into the ditch.
Callista reached around the steering column and turned the key. Nothing happened. She wanted
the engine running to brighten the lights, but decided the impact must've done more damage than she thought. She switched
on the hazard lights. The orange glow blinked off and on, illuminating the dark night for seconds at a time.
She started walking. Her gaze locked on the ditch. The click of the four-ways echoed in the cold air.
Her boots made no sound as she inched closer to the ditch.
There was nothing there but leaves and mud.
Air burst from her lungs in relief.
She wondered where the woman had gone, and why had she been out walking alone on this mountain, of all
places. A cold breeze blew her jacket open. She shivered. The smell of something old, almost musty, permeated
the air. It reminded her of Dylan's attic but what had produced the odor now, she didn't know. Maybe it was all
in her head. Maybe she wanted to go back to Dylan's house, the place she called her second home.
"Hello?" She called into the trees. "Is anyone there?" She pulled her jacket tightly
around her neck. The air felt damp, almost like rain, but there wasn't a cloud in sight.
She listened. There was nothing, no sounds, not even the faint roar of the river. She glanced
at her car, longing for the security of its interior, but she couldn't go. She had to be sure no one was hurt.
"Please, if anyone is there, answer me. I want to help you."
"Have you seen my husband?" a voice asked.
Callista whirled around to find a young woman standing before her wearing a wedding gown.
She looked young because of her pale complexion and seemingly featureless face. Her eyes, however, were big and bright
blue. Her hair was as black as coal and pulled into dozens of shiny, cascading curls that reflected the blinking orange
glow from the hazard lights. Her veil was fastened on her head like a crown and floated about her gorgeous, yet simple
gown.
"Your husband?" Callista glanced over the satin dress, searching for dirt, holes, even blood,
but the fabric was spotless. She wondered if she had hit her, but she had seen her on the hood of her car. There
was no way the woman could have avoided the impact, yet she stood there without a mark.
"Yes, my husband," the woman answered as she glided across the road.
"We are on our way to our honeymoon. My husband lost control of the car because of the storm.
I must find him."
She paced the berm and stared into the raging river below.
Callista cautiously approached the edge, still eyeing the woman. The river roared against
the stones and riverbanks. As she leaned forward, she could see through the tree limbs to the white foam bubbling among
the inky water. She shivered at the thought someone could be down there.
"Where did he lose control?" she asked, stepping back. She couldn't stomach the view any longer.
"Here," the woman replied too calmly. She moved even closer to the edge.
Callista reached out, ready to catch the woman if she lost her balance. "There's no place the car
could've gone." The trees and brush were thick. A vehicle of any size would have cleared a path.
"Please." The woman turned to her with teary eyes. "We've waited so long to be together.
All I want is to be with him. Can't you understand?"
Callista could. She understood what the woman was feeling and how devastated she felt. Maybe
it was pure fear of never seeing someone you loved again. The only difference was that the woman couldn't control what
had separated her from her love. Callista could control her restraints.
The woman continued to pace the road's edge. She stared down at the river with longing eyes.
Callista glanced sideways over the cliff. It seemed impossible for someone to survive a crash
so severe. If there were any chance, the person would need help quickly.
Callista thought about Dylan and how it would feel if he were trapped down there. Her stomach
churned wildly. "We've got to find help."
The woman stopped and stared at her.
"You don't understand," she spoke. Her pale lips hardly moved. "I only need to find him."
"I don't think you realize that if he's down there, he needs help-now." Callista felt her eyes
widen.
The woman gazed at Callista so intensely, goose bumps raised on her neck and arms. Callista heard
a vehicle driving up from behind and turned to see headlights round the curve. Another cold gust of air blew through
her hair and she smelled the must again but didn't pay it any attention. She waved her arms to flag the approaching
motorist down.
To her relief, the driver slowed the pickup truck and stopped behind her disabled car. She turned
to tell the woman she would get her help. She was gone.
Callista leaned over the edge again, wondering if the woman had fallen. Her mind swirled and everything
went fuzzy. She dropped her head into her hands.
After a moment, her vision cleared. She rushed to the scruffy-looking farmer who climbed from
the pickup truck.
"Sir, help. There was a woman with me. There." She pointed behind her. "I think
she might've fallen. And she told me her husband wrecked their car." Callista shook her head. It didn't
make any sense. There was no sign of a car wreck except for her own skid marks on the gray pavement, and there hadn't
been any storms. She was sure the man would think her crazy.
She couldn't stop thinking about the look in the woman's eyes when she spoke of her lost husband.
She wondered if her eyes would hold the same sadness when she and Dylan parted. No, she didn't want to lose him, not
due to an accident, a disagreement, or fears. Somehow everything she had dreaded about being married seemed insignificant.
"Would you hurry," she ordered the man who was gazing at the sky.
"Was she wearin' a weddin' gown?" the old man asked.
Callista narrowed her eyes, angry at his laziness. "Yes. She fell just before you stopped."
The man adjusted his dirty ball cap on his white hair, scratched his shaggy beard, and chuckled.
"No need to fret Miss. What's the problem with your car?"
"My car?" she gasped. "It stalled."
Callista's throat grew tight as she choked down the urge to scream at him. How could he stand
there, calm, when two people were obviously in so much danger?
"Yep, that'd be her," he gazed down at his boots and kicked a stone.
"That would be who?" Callista cried out, jumping around on tense legs. They had to get help.
She didn't know what he was waiting for.
"You're new 'round here," he smiled gently. "That girl was The Lady. Nothing more can be
done for her than what was done near some fifty years ago. Your car'll prob'ly start now."
Callista stopped moving. Her fingers twitched and then she froze. "Excuse me," she said.
"Fifty years ago?"
"In forty-nine or fifty, can't remember which right off, the couple crashed on their weddin' day.
Bad storms that day. They were both killed you see. She was thrown from the car here, at the top, and lived a
few minutes. He ended up with the car in that there river." He nodded toward the drop off. "The Lady comes
here ev'ry year on the anniversary lookin' for him. Poor soul. Someone ought to tell her the feller's gone too.
She'll find him on the other side I think." He climbed into his truck and leaned out the window. "I'll wait to
see if your car'll start now."
Dazed and sick, Callista shuffled to her car, slid in, and turned the key. The engine started
without hesitation. The man pulled out and waved as he passed by. Callista closed her door.
"A ghost," she spoke. "I hit a ghost?" Her stomach flipped wildly again, and she dropped
her forehead onto the steering wheel. The tears escaped her eyes and streaked down her cheeks.
No wonder the woman had seemed so mysterious and distraught. She had searched for her husband
for so many years. The couple was being held apart because The Lady didn't know to do anything differently.
Maybe she thought he was still alive, or maybe she thought he was searching for her. The situation tore at Callista's
heart. Two people who loved each other so much shouldn't be stranded apart for so many years. Not for any reason.
Her tears suddenly stopped.
Callista reversed her car and carefully turned it around. She thought about the woman's dress
and decided she wanted one as simple and elegant as The Lady's had been.
