Excerpt of Against the Wind by Virginia Kelly

“Blair.”

The sound of Michael’s voice saying her name after such a long time stunned her. With the wind howling across the open deck behind him, she grasped the doorknob for balance. The man she thought she’d never see again stood outlined against the storm-darkened sky. The angles of his body appeared more pronounced, his cheeks leaner, the dark brown eyes she thought she remembered so well, darker.

“Is your grandmother home?” His question skidded along her nerves.

Of course. He and Grandma Alice had kept in touch while Blair hadn’t. Couldn’t.

Her choice made it impossible.

She forced an answer past her lips. “She’s in Europe.”

“Are you here to board up?” He shouted to be heard over a sudden gust that lashed at them, precursor of the hurricane churning in the Gulf.

“And to get some of her things.”

He braced one hand against the doorframe, close to her shoulder. Several days’ growth of beard made him look rough, disreputable. Twin brackets of pain around his mouth startled her.

“Are you okay?”

A smile kicked up one corner of his lips, but didn’t reach his eyes. “Just a little sore from an accident.”

He glanced over his shoulder, first at the oyster shell drive, then at the sand dune that blocked the view of the crashing surf of the Gulf of Mexico. The wind snatched at a jacket he held folded over his arm. Blair reached out to grasp it, but touched his arm instead, startled at the feel of her fingers on warm flesh. It had been exactly six years and three months. To the day.

Not long enough.

He looked at her with an unfathomable expression, then glanced down to where her fingers held his arm. She dropped her hand, remembering she had no right to touch him anymore. “Come in.”

He walked past her and lowered himself slowly onto the couch. Very un-Michael like.

Blair shut the door with exaggerated care. She would deal with him, with his mind-numbing reappearance, by focusing only on what she could handle. She would treat him as she would any guest in her grandmother’s house. “I think Grandma has some aspirin.”

“That’ll work.” His chest rose and fell with a quick breath. He’d always gone too fast, wanted too much. Lived too hard. And she’d wanted to be with him.

“I’ll get it.”

Fumbling, Blair managed to get the childproof cap opened. She handed him a glass of water and the tablets.

A gust of wind whipped around the southeast corner of the house, screaming as it tore toward the north and west. Hurricane Nell would visit the barrier island in a few short hours.

Blair twisted her hands together, conscious of her shaky legs. She needed to move, to get away from him. “I have to pack some things and board up the windows.” To emphasize her point, she picked up the hammer she’d put down on the coffee table when she’d heard his knock.

“Where’s Drew?” Michael’s voice sounded harsh.

“He couldn’t come. He’s on some assignment.” Why would he ask about her brother? “You should know the Bureau wouldn’t give him any time off to help me.”

He took a deep breath and let it out. “So you’re alone?”

“Yes.”

He stood and walked toward her, his face pale, the man she’d known hidden behind the cool stranger he’d become.

“Let me do it, Blair.”

From the looks of him, she shouldn’t. But no one ever told Michael Alvarez what to do. At least she never had, so she handed him the hammer, explained where the plywood was kept, and watched him don his jacket and walk out into the wind.

Blair wanted to call him back and ask why he was here, but she couldn’t force the words past her lips. It didn’t matter why he’d come. He was here. She focused on that. Anything to keep from remembering how things had ended for them. She pulled Grandma Alice’s pictures from the walls of each room and took the albums from the living room closet. After packing everything in large, brown plastic bags, Blair turned on the television.

A windblown CNN reporter huddled under a bright yellow rain slicker, microphone to his mouth. “Hurricane Nell, moving over the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico and heading northwest, is now packing winds of one hundred twenty miles an hour. A mandatory evacuation of low-lying areas and barrier islands along the northwest Florida Gulf Coast has been ordered. Landfall is expected within eight hours.” Across the bottom of the screen she read that she and every other beach resident had to leave within two hours.

Blair grabbed the manila folder with her grandmother’s important papers and turned off the television. She’d better help Michael. They needed to get off the island soon or they’d be stranded by the rising tide and predicted storm surge.

Wind slammed the front door shut as she pulled the hood of her rain slicker low over her face. While the rain had started only moments ago, it was the wind that bore out the forecast. Blair shouldered her way down the stairs. She headed toward the back of the house, where she’d heard Michael hammering. The house stood on supportive pilings behind a dune that would protect it from Nell’s storm surge. At least Grandma Alice always said the dune had protected her. Watching the wind whip at the sea oats, blowing a haze of sand toward the house, Blair wondered if her grandmother’s confidence was justified.

Once down the steps, she walked around her car, curious to know where Michael had parked his. She remembered the Jeep he’d had years ago, the way he loved to drive. Not carelessly, but fast, every ounce of his concentration on the road. Did he still drive that way? Did he still live that way?