His heart racing, he bolts out of the Bronco and across the road to Sal, dropping to his knees beside her.
“Sal,” he says gently, not wanting to spook her but also really wanting to get her the hell out of the road. He tries to peer at her through her veil of dark hair. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“No.” Her voice is numb.
“Then what’re you doin’?”
“Sitting in the road.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” He scans the road for cars. It’s clear, for now. “C’mon. Let’s get you up.”
But she doesn’t budge.
For a long moment, he lets her sit there.
He knows.
Then, he finally asks, “You remember, don’t you?”
She turns her face, her weary eyes, toward him. Her words come in stilted fragments. “Last year ... the car accident. I was pregnant, wasn’t I?”
“Yes,” he says quietly.
Dipping forward, she places a palm against the gravel and fans out her fingers. “I bled my baby out ... here.”
Seth winces, but he doesn’t look away. “Yes.”
Her hands flutter to her stomach. “I can’t remember.” Her voice is the softest sadness he’s ever heard. “I can’t remember a baby.”
His ears prick at the unmistakable sound of oncoming traffic. “Sal, please,” Seth says urgently. He loops an arm through hers. “We gotta go.”
Sal blinks once, twice, then nods, letting Seth haul her to her feet. He follows her as she drifts back to the side of the road and climbs into the Bronco.
As he slips behind the wheel, Seth takes Sal in. The fragile creature he found on the beach is gone. In her place sits a strong woman, sits the Sal he knows. Has always known.
Sal looks over at Seth. “You helped me. You helped me twice. Then and now.”
His throat tightens, unable to speak for a long moment. “I did.”
She nods numbly, pain evident in her eyes. Then she turns away from him to stare out the window. “I want to talk to Luke.”
With a sigh, Seth puts the Bronco in drive and heads toward the farmhouse.
Luke turns the finished guitar over in his hands. He strums a quick chord and smiles as the sound of an unmistakable twang fills his workshop. The guitar plays like butter.
And in two days—the Opry. He can’t believe that everything he thought he had lost is back. His band. Himself. And his wife.
The door to his workshop cracks open. Sal’s small frame fills the doorway, followed by Seth. Luke has to grin at the two of them together. He’s seen the way Sal’s bonded to Seth this last month, and he’s glad for it.
“Hey, you two,” Luke calls out. “How was it today?”
“Sal took a skid off the road.” Seth holds up a hand when Luke rockets out of his bench. “She’s okay. She’s just shook up.”
“Darlin’—” Luke’s voice drops off as Sal steps deeper into the workshop, into the low lamplight. The air escapes his lungs when he sees she’s been crying.
Seth says something in a hushed voice to Sal, then turns sympathetic eyes Luke’s way. “I’ll get the car towed back to the farm.”
With a squeeze of Sal’s arm, Seth slips out the door.