The Old River Road was a river of mud. The wind was ferocious, bending the ancient oaks that lined the route like matchsticks.
Julian cursed, wrestling the steering wheel as the SUV hydroplaned. “Hold on!”
“Julian, stop!” Victoria screamed from the back seat, clutching her stomach.
A massive oak tree, its roots loosened by the deluge, groaned and crashed across the road ahead. Julian slammed on the brakes. The SUV skidded, spinning 180 degrees before slamming rear-first into the muddy embankment.
Silence, followed by the roar of the wind.
“Are you okay?” Julian shouted, unbuckling.
“My water,” Victoria gasped, looking down. “My water broke.”
A contraction hit her–not a cramp, but a vice-grip that stole her breath. The stress of the flight and the impact of the crash had triggered nature’s timeline.
Julian tried to open his door. It was jammed against the mud. He kicked it open and scrambled out into the rain. The road ahead was blocked by the tree. The road behind was flooding.
Twin headlights pierced the darkness. William’s truck screeched to a halt inches from Julian’s bumper.
William leaped out, sprinting through the mud. He reached the back door of the SUV and ripped it open.
“Victoria!”
She was curled in a ball, groaning in pain. “It’s coming,” she cried. “William, it’s coming now!”
William looked at Julian, who was soaked and shaking.
“The road is blocked!” Julian yelled over the wind. “We can’t get past the tree. And the bridge behind us is washing out. We’re trapped.”
William looked around. The forest was closing in. The storm was a wall of water. There was no way to get to the hospital. There was no way to get back to the Manor.
He looked at his wife, terrified and in pain. He climbed into the back seat, kneeling on the floorboard beside her. He took her hand, his grip crushing.
“We aren’t going anywhere,” William said, his voice steady against the chaos. He looked at Julian. “Get the medical kit from my truck. Now.”
He turned back to Victoria, brushing the wet hair from her forehead.
“You and me, Victoria,” William whispered, the ‘Territorial Patriarch’ finally becoming the partner she needed. “We’re going to do this right here.”
As the thunder cracked overhead and the floodwaters rose, the season ended not in a boardroom or a courtroom, but in the dark, wet woods, fighting for the only legacy that mattered.