One Wrong Turn: A Novel Read online

  CHAPTER NINETEEN Clay and the girls worked all Sunday morning on the house and furniture before heading to the hospital to visit Jess. Clay had gone into the yellow bedroom as the girls were finishing up and admired their work. “This looks really nice,” he said, glancing around. The room had a bay window with a seat, a gas fireplace in the corner, and a small bathroom. The yellow was soft and cheery. He looked into the bathroom and noticed it wasn’t completely finished. “I didn’t know the bathroom still needed new flooring and a mirror.” “This bathroom and the blue room’s bathroom both do,” Maddie said. “But then they’ll all be done. The other bathrooms are finished.” “What kind of flooring did your mom have in mind?” he asked, getting nervous. He’d never laid any flooring before. “Tile, just like the other bathrooms. There are boxes of it down in the basement.” “So, I have to finish putting together the furniture for this room and then lay the tile flooring. And it all has to be done

  CHAPTER TWENTY Tuesday morning Clay went to the hospital. He thought that he’d spend a couple of hours with Jess, then go looking for a new car. Alex had suggested a couple of car dealerships that he trusted in the city, so Clay thought he’d start there. He sat beside the bed, telling Jess about Jilly’s swimming practice the night before and how well he and the girls were doing after their rocky start. “You’d be proud of me. I’m learning to cook a few of their favorite foods, and I’m making sure the girls eat healthy meals, not just chicken nuggets.” He laughed softly, gazing at her serene face. “We’ve bought fruit and veggies, and I pack their school lunches every day. Imagine, Maddie is actually letting me do that. And the house is almost finished. I conceded I knew nothing about laying tile flooring, so Alex is doing it for me.” He laughed again at this. Maddie had given him a hard time about it, but she was only teasing. “I have a few pieces of furniture left to put together, but t

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE The next night at the AA meeting, Clay stood when it was his turn and shared his story. “I almost lost my sobriety last night,” he said. “I would have lost everything if I’d taken that first sip. I’m thankful now that I didn’t. And a good friend reminded me how I will be able to get through this difficult time: one day at a time. It’s a simple answer, but one that I had forgotten. I have to apply it to my entire life, not just my sobriety. We all should.” Everyone nodded in agreement, and after the meeting, a new member came up to Clay and thanked him for sharing. “You’re right,” she said. “It is such a simple phrase, but it has a powerful message. I’m going to try to apply it to everything in my life too.” Clay was happy that his words had made an impact on her. Earlier that day when Clay had visited the hospital, nothing had changed. The doctor told him that Jess’s brain scan had looked fine. “No swelling or extra fluid,” he’d said. “We should still be hopeful.” Bu

  EPILOGUE “Tell me again how it happened,” Jilly said, cuddled in bed beside her mother at home two weeks later. “Tell me how Daddy woke you up.” Jess laughed softly as she pulled her daughter to her. “You’ve heard it so many times, you can tell it yourself.” “But I want you to tell it,” Jilly said. “Okay,” Jess relented. Maddie walked into the room with her mother’s lunch on a tray. “Jilly, are you pestering Mom again? You know she needs her rest.” “I just want to hear the story again,” her sister insisted. Maddie rolled her eyes, but she sat on the end of their mother’s bed to listen too. Jess began to speak. “As I lay there in bed, I could hear music playing, but it sounded far, far away. I recognized my favorite song, our wedding song. I felt like I was lost in a thick, dense fog. I tried pushing through it to get to the music, but it was so hard. My body wanted to sleep, but my mind wanted to find the music. Then, the song stopped, and I lost all hope of ever finding it.” “And then

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR Author Deanna Lynn Sletten believes in fate, love at first sight, soul mates, second chances, and happily ever after. When she initially started writing women’s fiction and romance, she decided to self-publish her first three novels. Since then, she has published twelve books—including Finding Libbie, her second book with Lake Union Publishing. She lives in northern Minnesota and is married with two grown children. When she’s not writing, she enjoys relaxing in a boat on the lake and walking the wooded trails around her home with her beautiful Australian Shepherd.

  ALSO BY DEANNA LYNN SLETTEN

  Finding Libbie

  Walking Sam

  Maggie’s Turn

  Memories

  Sara’s Promise

  Widow, Virgin, Whore

  Destination Wedding

  Summer of the Loon

  Kiss a Cowboy

  A Kiss for Colt

  Kissing Carly

  Outlaw Heroes

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2017 by Deanna Lynn Sletten

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781477823170

  ISBN-10: 1477823174

  Cover design by LEADesign

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jessica Connors gripped the steering wheel as she maneuvered the twists and turns on Highway 1 along the Northern California coastline. It had been a rainy March day, and although the downpour had ended and the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds, the road was still slick. As she drove, Jess tried to concentrate on the road ahead, but her mind kept running through the list of things she still had to do that evening.

  She shouldn’t have tried rushing a drive into the city for groceries and paint, but their refrigerator was nearly empty, and she was eager to start painting the next bedroom. She had only two months left before the first guests arrived at their newly remodeled bed-and-breakfast, and there was still so much left to do. But her last-minute run up the coast had left her short on time to pick up the girls at school. Her seven-year-old, Jilly, would patiently wait for her in the hallway, probably playing a game of hangman or tic-tac-toe with Jerrod, the neighbor boy who carpooled with them. But Maddie, her twelve-year-old going on thirty, would be standing at the main door, arms crossed, with a sour frown on her face. Maddie didn’t like having to wait for her mother, especially since her best friend, Emma, had to wait too. She thought it was rude when her mother was late. Well, she was right, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.

  Increasing her speed, Jess took a turn a little too sharply, causing one of the grocery bags in the back of her small SUV to fall over. Damn! She hoped it wasn’t the bag with the eggs in it. She knew she should slow down, but she was stressing over all that needed to be done. The groceries had to be put away, and they had to eat a quick meal before Jess took Jilly to swimming practice, where Jess was supposed to supply a healthy snack for fourteen girls. Th
en it was home and homework, and then—if Jess was lucky—she could begin painting the blue room after the girls were tucked in bed. In the morning, the rush to beat the clock would begin all over again.

  It was hard being a single mom trying to start a new business and a new life.

  As Jess took another curve, a lovely view of the beach below spread out before her. She sighed. They lived above a beach just like this one, yet she hardly ever had a chance to walk down the wooden steps to sit by the water and enjoy the tranquility. And once the B&B opened, she’d have even less time. But it had been her choice to abandon Los Angeles two years ago and bring the girls up here for a fresh start and turn her grandparents’ home into a B&B. Though it had been necessary to begin all over again, the move hadn’t been an easy decision. And it still wasn’t easy. While she didn’t necessarily miss LA, she did miss some aspects of her old life. She missed him. Especially him.

  A strand of blond hair fell over her eyes, and she blew it away, all the while watching the road. Just as she rounded a sharp curve, a dog dashed out from the field on the left and into her lane. Jess turned the wheel sharply to avoid hitting it, but the wet pavement sent her car into a spin. Panicking, she overcorrected. The back end fishtailed halfway through its spin, causing the car to lose its grip on the road. The SUV tipped over on its side. Then, as if in slow motion, Jess felt it give way and roll. Her head slammed into the door frame as the driver’s side hit the pavement, and the back door popped open, spilling the contents out onto the highway. The roof hit the pavement next with a sickening sound, like a pop can being crushed. Glass sprayed as the windshield shattered, and it rained over her. She reflexively squeezed her eyes shut against the flying glass. The car bounced back onto its tires, causing Jess to hit her head against the steering wheel. The momentum continued, and the car fell over onto the driver’s side again, sliding along the opposite lane. The sound of the metal scraping on the pavement sent chills down Jess’s spine. When the car finally came to a stop, it lay on the middle line, and Jess slowly opened her eyes. Through the shell of the windshield, she could see the road behind her. Blue and yellow paint had splashed in colorful trails along the road, and she thought how pretty it looked. A single shiny red apple caught her attention as it slowly rolled down the highway, and then all went black.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Clay Connors pushed his unruly brown hair out of his face as he strode down the hospital hallway. His worn boots clicked on the shiny vinyl floor. He knew he was in desperate need of a shower and change of clothes, but there was only one thing on his mind right now. Jess.

  He approached the nurse’s station and spoke to the young woman who was working at her computer.

  “Excuse me,” he said hurriedly.

  She stared at him, a bit startled, but composed herself quickly. “May I help you?”

  “I was told that Jessica Connors is on this floor. Can you tell me which room?”

  Hesitating, she studied him. He supposed the two-day growth of beard and his bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep weren’t doing him any favors. “Are you a relative?” she finally asked.

  “I’m her husband.” The word rolled off his tongue so naturally yet felt strange. He hadn’t referred to himself as Jess’s husband in two years. But it was the truth, and if it would hurry the process along, he’d say it a hundred times. All he wanted was to see Jess.

  The nurse typed something into her computer and studied the screen. She finally seemed satisfied with what she saw and stood up. “If you’ll wait here a moment, Mr. Connors, I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.” She didn’t wait for him to reply before heading off down another hallway.

  Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped away from the counter. Ever since he’d received the phone message that morning, all he could think about was seeing Jess. The hospital wouldn’t tell him much over the phone except that she’d been in an accident and was in critical condition. Since then, all the worst possible scenarios had run through his mind. He had to see Jess with his own eyes to make sure she was still here, still alive. And God help him if she wasn’t.

  He silently berated himself for the hundredth time about not having his phone on all night. When he’d entered the recording studio yesterday afternoon to lay down some tracks, he’d turned the phone off so it wouldn’t disturb his work. Then, a two-hour recording session turned into an all-nighter, and he hadn’t thought once to check his messages. Why bother? Few people called him, and the only emergencies he’d encountered over the past two years were ones where a guitarist hadn’t shown up at a session and he was needed immediately. But if only he’d pulled out his phone, just for a quick check, he’d have seen the hospital’s messages about Jess. He could have hopped the early plane to San Francisco from LA and been here sooner. But by the time he’d seen the messages, after he’d returned home to his apartment, there were no planes until this afternoon. Unable to wait, he’d jumped in his car and driven instead. And now here he stood, waiting again.

  He’d been awake now for thirty hours straight, and it was wearing on his nerves. He didn’t think he could stand here one more minute without exploding.

  “Mr. Connors?”

  Clay turned. “Yes?”

  “I’m Dr. Alan Bradbury,” a tall man in a white jacket said, shaking Clay’s hand. “I’m your wife’s attending physician.”

  Clay nodded. Just tell me she’s alive.

  He stood there and listened as the doctor described Jess’s head trauma, that a brain scan showed no signs of bleeding or tearing, but there was swelling that they were monitoring and giving her drugs for. Clay nodded, not quite understanding everything the doctor said yet thinking how terrible it all sounded. It was when the word coma came into the conversation that his mind became sharp again.

  “Coma? Jess is in a coma?”

  “Yes,” the doctor said. “Sometimes, with a traumatic brain injury, it places the patient into a coma. We aren’t too worried at the moment. A coma can be a positive thing. It allows the brain to heal and requires less oxygen to function than if she were awake. But as I said, we are continually monitoring her, and we are hopeful she will awaken in a day or two.”

  Staring at the man in front of him, Clay tried to grasp what was being said. “And if she doesn’t wake up in a day or two?”

  The doctor’s expression stayed neutral. “Let’s just take it one day at a time.”

  One day at a time. An expression Clay knew all too well.

  He knew he wasn’t going to get any guarantees out of this doctor, or any doctor for that matter. Experience had taught him that guarantees weren’t something physicians were allowed to hand out.

  “Our hospital is one of the leading trauma centers for brain injuries in the country, Mr. Connors,” Dr. Bradbury assured him. “I promise we will give your wife the best care available.”

  Clay nodded. This was a lot for him to absorb all at once.

  “Can I please see my wife?” he asked.

  “Of course.” The doctor led him down the busy hallway to a room across from the nurse’s station. There was a long glass window looking into the room, but a curtain pulled halfway around the bed blocked his view of Jess. Standing in the doorway, the doctor gave Clay his card. “Feel free to have the nurse summon me anytime you have a question.”

  Clay thanked him and then turned his attention to the room.

  He walked tentatively around the curtain. The sight before him made him stop midstep. Jess lay there with tubes and wires strung everywhere, the slow beep of a heart monitor keeping time with every beat of her heart.

  Drawing closer, Clay felt his eyes well up at the sight of the woman he loved. The left side of her head was severely bruised, and there were stitches above her right eye. Small cuts were scattered around her face. Her beautiful blond hair was crushed against the pillow, and her eyes were closed. Lying on top of the blanket, both her arms were also streaked with cuts and bruises. IV tubes ran out of her left arm, and wires wou
nd out from under her gown, connecting to the heart monitor.

  Clay rounded the bed and dropped into the orange plastic chair. He reached for Jess’s hand and held it ever so gently. “Oh, my Jess. My beautiful, precious Jess,” he whispered, lightly stroking her hand. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I should have been here. I never should have stayed away so long.” Tears fell from his eyes, and he swiped them away.

  As he held her hand, Clay thought back through the years. They’d been so in love, and yet he’d brought her so much pain. He’d never meant for it to be that way. Yet, through it all, he’d never stopped loving her. Carefully, he laid his cheek down on her hand and remembered the very first time they’d met. She’d been a spunky nineteen-year-old waitress, and he had been a twenty-four-year-old musician who was slowly making a name for himself as a lead guitarist. The bar where his band had played that night was small and crowded, close to the Redondo Beach Pier. Surfers occupied the seats, their girlfriends clad in little more than bikinis with T-shirts over them, but for Clay, there had only been one girl in the room—Jess.

  June 2001

  Clay stood on stage strumming an Eagles song along with his four-piece band as suntanned guys with bleached mop tops and leggy girls danced in flip-flops on the floor in front of him. They were playing in a bar down the street from the Redondo Beach Pier, so both tourists and locals filled the room. This was the first time his band had played there—they’d played all over LA during the past four years—and he liked its vibe. The mood was laid back and the crowd was mellow. He’d certainly been in worse places.