The Longest Ride

take you to dinner.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” she asked.

“I’m trying to start over. That’s what you do, right? Ask someone out?”

She leaned up, kissing him for the first time that day. “I don’t think we have to start all the way over, do we?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“I love you, Luke.”

“I love you, too, Sophia.”
     

     
    They made love that night, then again on Monday morning, after sleeping in late. They had a leisurely brunch, and after taking a walk, Sophia watched Luke load up the truck from the warmth of the cabin, sipping her coffee. They weren’t the same as they once had been. She reflected that in the few months they’d known each other, their relationship had evolved into something deeper, something she hadn’t anticipated.

They hit the road a few minutes later and settled into the drive, making their way down the mountain. The sun reflected against the snow and produced a harsh glare that caused Sophia to turn away, leaning her head against the truck’s window. She glanced over at Luke in the driver’s seat. She still wasn’t sure what was going to happen when she graduated in May, but for the first time, she began to wonder whether Luke might be free to follow her. She hadn’t voiced those thoughts to him, but she wondered whether her plans had played a role in his decision to walk away from his career.

She was musing over these questions in a warm and peaceful haze, on the verge of dozing, when Luke’s voice broke the silence.

“Did you see that?”

She opened her eyes, realizing that Luke was slowing the truck.

“I didn’t see anything,” she admitted.

Surprising her, Luke slammed on the brakes and pulled his truck to the side of the highway, his eyes glued to the rearview mirror. “I thought I saw something,” he said. He put the truck into gear and shut off the engine, flicking on the flashers. “Give me a second, will you?”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure. I just want to check something out.”

He grabbed his jacket from behind his seat and hopped out of the truck, pulling it on as he walked toward the rear of the truck. Over her shoulder, she noted that they’d just rounded a curve. Luke checked in both directions, then jogged to the other side of the road, approaching the guardrail. Only then did she realize that it was broken.

Luke peered down the steeply sloping embankment, then quickly swiveled his head toward her. Even from a distance, she could sense the urgency in his expression and body language. Quickly, she hopped out of the truck.

“Grab my phone and call 911!” he shouted. “A car went off the road here, and I think someone’s still in it!”

And with that, he climbed through the broken section of the guardrail, vanishing from sight.

30

    Sophia
    L ater, she would recall the events that followed in a series of quick-flash images: Making the emergency call and then watching Luke descend the steep embankment. Running back to the truck in panic for a bottle of water after Luke said he thought the driver was still moving. Clinging to bushes and branches as she scrambled down the wooded incline and then noting the state of the wreck – the crumpled hood, quarter-panel nearly sheared off, the jagged cracks in the windshield. Watching Luke struggle to open the jammed driver’s-side door while trying to keep his balance on the steep slope, a slope that became a sheer cliff face only several feet from the front of the car.

But most of all, she remembered her throat catching at the sight of the old man, his bony head pressed against the steering wheel. She noted the wisps of hair covering his spotted scalp, the ears that seemed too big for him. His arm was bent at an unnatural angle. A gash in his forehead, his shoulder cocked wrong, lips so dry they’d begun to bleed. He had to be in terrible pain, yet his expression was oddly serene. When Luke was eventually able to wrench the door open, she found herself moving closer, struggling to keep her balance on the slippery incline.

“I’m here,” Luke was saying to the old man. “Can you hear me? Can you move?”

Sophia could hear the panic in Luke’s voice as he reached over, gently touching the man’s neck in search of a pulse. “It’s weak,” he said to her. “He’s in really bad shape.”

The old man’s moan was barely audible. Luke instinctively reached for the water bottle and poured some water into the cap, then tilted it to the man’s