He sought to hold her, and his foot pressed down on the accelerator.

The truck slid off the road, its wheels spinning in the deep snow at the side where the snowplows had piled it. Alec banged his knee against the dashboard. The pain was excruciating. He rammed his foot hard on the accelerator and brought the truck back to the road, the wheels spinning wildly as they hit the slick pavement. He slowed down, knowing that while he would forever see Pam in his mind, he could not touch her, ever touch her again.

The throbbing pain in his knee helped him see the road more clearly. It was empty of traffic. If he went slowly enough, he would not slide off it again, and he could keep going. But to where? Where was he going? What had happened to him? Shattered by shock, he knew only immense desolation.

For the first time he looked into the rearview mirror and saw his face as white as snow, his eyes stark and bloodshot. He saw also the two-horse trailer he pulled behind. His foot clamped down on the brake and he brought the truck to a stop.

What had he done in those hours between the time he had stood beside the Black in the barn and now? Had he taken his horse with him?

Leaving the truck, he went to the trailer and opened the escape door. Inside he found bags of feed and hay, and standing tied was the Black, who neighed warmly to him. Alec threw his arms around his horse and wept.

How he had loaded the Black was of no importance to him. It was enough that he had taken the Black with him. Instinctively, whatever his state of mind, he had made the Black secure in the trailer. The middle partition had been removed, allowing the stallion to spread his legs and keep his balance. Six inches of wood shavings were beneath the straw bedding to protect his feet. His legs were free of wraps, so they would not swell and heat up to cause aggravation and stomping. He had hay in his sling but no water; that would come a few hours later. And he was tied with a rubber strap so he could move about and not feel so confined.

All these things Alec had done without being aware of his movements. The truck he had taken, one of many at the farm, was powerful enough for him to have pulled the horse and trailer for several hours without being aware of it.

Alec clasped his head in his hands. His fingers kneaded the sides, hoping to clear his mind and get rid of his numbness.

Time to him now was static, like a jumped track with everything wiped clean but his love for Pam. He shut his eyes. What did it mean to have the past but not the present? He forced his eyes open. He had to go on, wherever the road led.

Leaving the trailer, he stumbled through the snow to check the hitch on the truck, making sure it was secure. Wherever he was going, nothing must happen to his horse.

He climbed behind the wheel, started the engine and drove slower and more carefully, trying to keep his anguished mind on the road.

During the hours that followed and into the night, Alec drove constantly, stopping only to get gas and to water his horse every five or six hours. His route took him south on the New York State Thruway, which was clear of snow but hazardous, and then onto the New Jersey Turnpike, where night fell upon him.

When dawn broke, he was in North Carolina on Interstate 95. He didn’t know why he was headed south except, perhaps, to be free of the snow as he wanted to be free of everything else. For a moment his mind wandered to Florida and he wondered if it was to Pam’s home state he wanted to go, to see her family and, perhaps, be at her funeral. He shook his head. He did not want to see one so alive, so dead.