Broken Hearts

by Margaret McDonagh

Genres: Romance

Synopsis

Michelle?s life had been touched by tragedy. Then one more terrifying twist of fate brought new peril and a new man into her life. But the pain of the past had left a secret fear, a fear that threatened to destroy her future happiness and an unexpected love. Josh Turner worked hard ? and played hard. A skilled firefighter, he faced danger every day. Then he found a woman who presented a different challenge one that threatened his heart.

Release date: February 13, 2014

Publisher: Accent Press

Print pages: 75

Sample

Chapter One

The rhythmic movement of the train had a soporific effect. Michelle Clarke stared out of the window at the rain-soaked landscape, murky and inhospitable in the gathering dusk.

It was October, but already winter was nibbling at the trailing edge of a cold, wet autumn.

Michelle shivered, and huddled into her seat. The carriage heating failed to take the chill from the air, and she longed for the moment she would reach the warm sanctuary of her flat in Winchester.

Visits to her old hometown in Suffolk always depressed her. She had made a strenuous effort to build a new life and put the past behind her and had succeeded, at least for ninety-nine per cent of the time. But despite her resolve that each trip back would be her last, she was drawn against her will.

Old ties were hard to break. It was as though a hidden part of her would not allow her to let go entirely. However much she wanted to, she could not forget.

Frustrated at the melancholy introspection her latest duty visit had caused, Michelle ran her fingers through her bobbed, ash-blonde hair, and stood up. Perhaps a cup of tea would help warm her and ease the final leg of her journey.

She smiled at the elderly lady who sat across from her, wrapped in a thick coat and apparently as chilly as she was.

‘I’m going to the buffet car,’ Michelle told her. ‘May I fetch you something?’

‘Thank you, dear. I’d love some tea.’

Michelle made her way along the gently swaying train to the buffet car which was a couple of carriages back from her own. The train was almost full of shoppers and commuters on their way home from London. Having bought two cups of tea, she made her way forward carefully.

The carriage she had chosen, the second in the long line, was not as crowded as the others she had passed through. As she approached her seat just inside the connecting door, she glanced along at a young couple who sat cuddled close to each other. A stab of sadness lanced through her at the sight of their closeness.

She withdrew her gaze from them and forced a smile as she set the tea on the window shelf. Noticing the lady’s arthritic fingers, she prised the stubborn lid off the polystyrene cup and handed the tea to her.

‘Bless you, dear. How much do I owe you?’ she asked, struggling with her purse.

Michelle gently covered her smooth, bony hand.

‘It’s my treat,’ she assured her.

‘How very thoughtful of you. What is your name?’

‘Michelle.’

‘I’m Joan.’ She introduced herself with a surprisingly youthful and mischievous smile. ‘I’ll be getting off at Basingstoke. I’ve been up to Cambridge, to my granddaughter’s wedding … lovely, but tiring!’

Michelle smiled as she sat down, sipping her tea as she listened to Joan’s potted family history and her excited account of the wedding ceremony. Unwillingly, she thought of what would have been her own wedding day before fate had dealt its vicious blow.

She shook her head to clear the memories that still brought with them the sting of pain and regret.

When the train drew to a halt in Basingstoke, Joan rose to her feet and gathered her belongings together.

‘Thank you again, Michelle, for the tea. It was most welcome. And thank you for listening. It’s so nice that you had time for an old lady like me.’

‘It was my pleasure. Goodbye, Joan.’

The number of passengers had decreased, and after die train pulled out of the station, Michelle took a novel from her bag. She hoped it would help ease the final miles to Winchester.

As the dusk deepened, the lights and interior of the train were reflected in the glass windows, shutting out the world beyond. She pressed cool fingers to her temple to massage away a tension headache, and then tried to concentrate on her book.

When the train entered the long tunnel north of Winchester with a sudden whoosh, Michelle jumped.

One moment she was staring sightlessly at the pages of her novel and anticipating her arrival home, the next …

The train shuddered and lurched violently. A scream broke from her as she was thrown to the floor. There was a shaking, terrifying jolt, then another. The carriage she was in slewed sideways off the rails.

The motion tossed her bruisingly across the aisle, banging her against the seat supports.

The sickening sound of breaking glass and crunching metal was followed by a screeching skid. Sparks flashed along the tunnel.

With mounting horror, she was aware of the side of the carriage near her caving in, of being buried, of searing pain in her left arm. She screamed again, but the sound choked in her throat.

Through the gloom she saw, mere feet above her, the bogey wheels of the following carriage rise up and plough through the upper half of the jack-knifed wreckage. The rest of the carriages concertinaed behind. The lights went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

It seemed to go on forever, but Michelle knew it was, in reality, only seconds. As the renting of metal subsided, and the wreckage came to a halt, there was an eerie stillness.

For several moments, she was too shocked to think or try to move, then the noise of screaming and moans of pain permeated the fogging numbness in her brain.

She stifled her own sobs of fear. Gingerly she tried to move, but the twisted metal held her damaged arm, and her legs and lower body were covered in debris.

She was trapped. Panic set in and threatened to overwhelm her. It was pitch-black, she felt so cold…so isolated.

Somewhere in the twisted metal nearby, she heard ragged breathing, faint, shallow gasps. She thought of the other passengers, the young couple. Thank goodness Joan had left the train.

Michelle called out, her voice strange to her own ears. She was anxious for any human response, but none came. She felt disorientated and it was too dark to see anything except the occasional gleam of the steel wheels in the twisted carnage above her.

In the distance, she could hear distant noises from other carriages, the sounds of doors banging, a scream, sobbing … but no one answered her calls. The sense of being alone was stifling. Renewed panic gripped her, but as she tried again to move, the pain in her arm intensified.

She could feel warm wetness on her face. In the darkness she lifted the fingers of her free arm and could feel slivers of shattered glass and the sting of cuts on her cheeks and forehead. She attempted to shift her body . . .