An Unexpected Love

Chapter One

Alex McCarty had conquered her eating disorder years ago and was now in complete control of her health and her life. However, her friend and manager Sandy Dalebout didn't think so.

As Alex traveled from the Bay Area, through northern Nevada to Utah, up into eastern Idaho, she had plenty of time to think about the conversation she'd had with Sandy the day before.

"It's for your own good, Alex. You'll see," Sandy told her as she helped load suitcases into the trunk of the car. "The timing is perfect. Your sister needs help right now and you need some time off. Go. Relax. Eat. Have a nice visit. And don't come back until you've gained at least ten pounds."

Alex didn't plan on gaining any weight. She didn't need to. And she resented Sandy for questioning her judgment. Alex was a national health and fitness consultant, for goodness' sake. Her whole career was based on knowing the difference between being healthy and being too thin.

So, instead of enjoying springtime in California, she was plowing through skyscraping mountains in a raging blizzard, headed toward her sister, Jamie, and brother-in-law, Steve's, house in Island Park, Idaho, near Yellowstone National Park.

The narrow road, barely visible through the blur of snow outside, was slick and difficult to follow. Alex gasped, terrified, as the back wheels of her car shifted, fishtailed, then grabbed hold. As her car proceeded at a slow crawl, Alex's breathing returned to normal but her heart banged wildly in her chest.

Tightly she gripped the Mazda's steering wheel and searched through dense, whirling snow for pole reflectors. Had she driven past the town? Was she anywhere near civilization?

Keeping her eyes on the nearly invisible road ahead, Alex felt along the console until she located her cell phone. However, when she turned it on, the NO SERVICE indicator flashed. Either the heavy shroud of storm clouds or the towering mountains prevented contact with the world. She would have given anything to hear something other than the static on the radio and the scrape of wipers on the windshield. It was like being sucked into a swirling, white vacuum.

Darn you, Sandy. This is all your fault.

Sandy was concerned because Alex had lost "a little" weight, but Alex wasn't in the least surprised or even worried about losing a few pounds. Her career demanded constant traveling, extensive lectures, and long hours demonstrating new ideas in the ever-changing world of aerobic exercise. But Sandy wouldn't listen to reason. She felt like Alex hadn't "been herself" lately; it seemed like she was lacking energy, always picking up whatever cold or flu bug was going around the gym, and just plain looking too thin.

And then, after the last fitness convention when Alex had passed out in her hotel room, Sandy had completely overreacted when she found out. In all honesty, Alex had to admit that it had even scared her a little. She was relieved when the doctor attributed her collapse to overwork and lack of rest, which made sense to her, but Sandy was convinced Alex was anorexic.

Slowing the car to barely six miles an hour, Alex continued to follow the curve in the road. Even at a snail's pace the tires slid. She held her breath. The tires caught and the car inched forward.

Last night in her hotel room in Salt Lake City, when she had watched the news, the weatherman had said nothing about a major snowstorm hitting eastern Idaho. Would she have changed her plans had she known it was going to snow? Probably not. She had to get to Jamie's. Her younger sister needed her. After two miscarriages Jamie was finally expecting again, but now she was having complications with this pregnancy.

The thought stabbed Alex with guilt. She loved her sister and wanted to help, support, and encourage her, but she'd kept her distance all these years because Steve and Jamie were such religious fanatics. The last time Alex, Jamie, and their mother had been together was at their grandfather's funeral in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, three years ago.

Alex and her mother had sat through Steve and Jamie's explanation of life after death, then their "testimonies" about the importance of the eternal family unit. After that, Alex and her mother had spent the rest of the day avoiding the young couple.

Unlike her mother, Alex managed to separate her sister from her religion and tried to maintain some kind of relationship with her. She liked spending time with Jamie but she always had a plan ahead of time to dodge and divert their attempts at brainwashing her. She didn't want anything to do with this crazy cult they belonged to. Especially since this was the same religion responsible for killing their father nineteen years ago. To make matters worse, Jamie had left home after high school and gone to college--to BYU of all places--and joined the Mormon Church.

Things had never been the same since. Alex wondered if the tension between her mother and Jamie would ever cease. She was tired of getting caught in the middle.

Glancing down at the dashboard, Alex noticed there was a quarter of a tank of gas left. How long would that keep her alive if she was forced to stop and wait out the storm? There was nothing in the car to keep her warm once the fuel was gone. Wool blankets and mittens weren't exactly standard trunk storage items back home in Palo Alto.

The outline of a road sign appeared on her right. Snow clung to its surface, covering desperately needed information.

"Where in the world am I?" Alex strained to make out any words on the sign, but keeping the car on the road demanded her complete attention.

"Why didn't I call Jamie and Steve this morning?" She banged on the steering wheel with the heel of her right hand. At least then they would know to look for her if she didn't show up.

"And why do I keep talking to myself?"

Because I'm scared!

Alex fumbled with the heat switch, moved it to defrost, and bumped up the fan. The digital clock flashed 11:51 a.m.

Even with her headlights on she could barely see to the front end of the car. With a click of the lever, she turned on the high beam. The snowflakes doubled in number and size. Quickly she clicked the lights back to low.

"You're going to be fine," she told herself. "Just keep going." There had to be a service station or house somewhere along here soon.

She leaned forward, stretching the tension out of her back.

"Come on, Texaco."

Her stomach churned, partly from nerves, partly because it was empty. She hadn't eaten since the bagel and diet drink she'd had the day before. To keep her appetite at bay, she kept plenty of gum close by, chewing it until the flavor left, then popping another piece in her mouth. Wrappers from three packs of cinnamon Trident littered the passenger's seat. But the gum didn't fool her stomach. Her system knew all that chewing was supposed to produce some kind of sustenance. But Alex had learned to discipline herself, and she refused to give into her appetite. Besides, she hated feeling full. It made her feel as if she'd lost control of herself.

The movement of the wipers broke the hypnotic slant of snow dancing toward her, scattering her thoughts. A flicker of light in the rearview mirror caught her eye.

Could it be? She glanced again at the reflection. Yes! There it was. Headlights. Two dim but beautiful disks of yellow moving closer.

Her mind raced. Somehow she had to flag down the driver and find out where she was.

She looked back at the lights in the mirror, and relief eased her knotted stomach. But when she looked forward again, she saw that she'd missed a turn and was headed straight off the road.

She spun the steering wheel to correct her course, but the rear end of the car whipped sideways, pulling it into a perfect spin. Once, twice. But it was too late.

"NO!" she screamed. She stomped on the brake and locked her arms against the steering wheel. Still spinning, the car careened off the side of the road and nose-dived into a canal, landing at the bottom. On impact Alex's head slammed into the side window and everything went black.