enthusiastic crowd of jumpers. The jump from the plane was exhilarating, and even the sting from the faint pull of the stitches below her collarbone didnât detract from the pleasure of free fall. Coreen had always loved the feeling she got from it. Earthbound people would never experience the rush of adrenaline that came from danger, the surge of emotion that rivaled the greatest pleasure sheâd ever knownâan unexpected glimpse of Ted Reganâs face.
She pulled the cords to turn the parachute, looking for her mark below. Two other skydivers were heading down below her. But a gust of wind began to move her in a direction she didnât want to go, and when she looked up, she saw a gigantic thunderhead and a streak of lightning.
It was all she could do not to panic, and in her frantic haste to get her parachute going in the right direction, she overcontrolled it.
She was headed for a group of power lines. Sheâd read about ballooners who went into those electrical lines and didnât live to tell about it. She could see herself hitting them, see the sparks.
With a helpless cry as the thunder echoed around her, she jerked on the cord and moved her body, trying to force the stubborn chute to ignore the wind and bend to her will.
It was a losing battle, and she knew it. But she had nerve, and she wasnât going to give up until the last minute. The lightning forked past her and she closed her eyes, gritted her teeth and tried again to change direction.
The power lines were coming up. She was almost on them. She pulled her legs up with bent knees and jerked the chute. Her feet almost touched them, almostâ¦but another gust of wind picked her up and moved her just a few inches, just enough to spare her landing on those innocent-looking black cables.
She let out a heavy sigh of relief. Rain had started to fall. She closed her eyes and through the thunder and lightning, she gave a prayer of thanks.
When she opened her eyes again, aware of the terrible darkness all around her as the unpredicted stormblew in, she saw what her fear had caused her to miss just minutes ago. There was a line of trees ahead, a thick conglomeration of pines and a few deciduous trees. They were right in the way. There was no cleared field, no place for her to land. She was going to go into those trees.
What if she landed in the very top of one? Would it take her weight, or would she fall to her death? And what about that huge oak? If she got caught in those leafy limbs, she could still be there when the first frost came!
The thought would have amused her once, but now she was too bent on survival to make jokes.
She didnât try to change direction. There was no use. Lightning streaked past her and hit one of the trees, smoke rising from it.
She thought that this was going to make an interesting addition to the obituary column, but at least she wouldnât go out in any dull manner.
She allowed herself one last thought, of Ted Reganâs face when he read about it. She hoped that whoever planned her funeral wouldnât ruin it by letting Ted stand over her and make nasty remarks about her character.
The trees were coming closer. She could see the branches individually now, and with a sense of resignation, she let her body relax. If the fall didnât get her, the lightning probably would. Sheâd chosen her fate, and here it was.
It hadnât been a suicide attempt, although people would probably think so. Sheâd only wanted the freedom of the sky while she tried to come to grips with the rest of her life. Sheâd wanted to forget Tedâs accusations and the cold way heâd looked at her.
What she remembered, though, was the rough, hungry clasp of his arms around her. Had he felt pity, for those few seconds when his embrace had bruised her? Or had it been a reflex action, the natural reaction of a man to having a woman in his arms? Sheâd never know.
She could picture his blue eyes