Kissed by Winter, page 2
“I want to be here as much as you do.” She probably looked a hideous mess. Her hair had come loose from the clip on the top of her head. Sleep masked her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to wash her face and sterilize her hands from the airborne germs she’d encountered on the plane. “I’ve been on the flight from hell for over eight hours. I’ve lost four hours of daylight, and the temperature here is twenty degrees lower than where I live.” She pulled the straps of her leather jacket tight around her waist. “I have to rent a car and drive two hours to a small town where if I blink, I’ll miss it.” She waved a pointed finger in the air for dramatic effect. “I’d rather be anywhere but here.”
At her rant, the man’s mouth drooped. He quickly buttoned his suit jacket, stretching the wool material over his large stomach. He fetched paperwork from a desk drawer and grabbed a set of keys hanging on the wall beside him. “Weather reports say a storm is coming.” He passed her the keys and a clipboard.
Frowning, Danielle signed the rental document. “The sky is clear and filled with stars.”
“Change happens within minutes around here.” He pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “You might want to consider staying at the airport hotel.”
She had pondered the idea of waiting until morning to continue travelling. Being dragged from one tropical location to another by her earth-studying scientist parents, Danielle had never experienced a winter storm. She saw on the weather channel how quickly a snowstorm could swoop in, and how much of the country suffered the frosty wrath of Mother Nature—both reasons why she chose to live in Victoria.
But an overnight stay meant delaying the inevitable. She shook her head. “I want to be there and gone as quickly as possible, which means no setbacks. Maybe I’ll outrun the storm.” She paid for the rental and grabbed the handle of her suitcase.
Half an hour into the drive, the sedan’s windshield wipers couldn’t clear the fluffy flakes fast enough. She’d catch a glimpse of the highway long enough to keep the car straight before another blanket of white impaired her vision. She cursed herself for not taking the salesman’s advice.
Another hour later, she took exit nine off the highway. At least the highways were being plowed. The roads leading to Redford Falls weren’t as well maintained. Another curse fell from her lips. “I’m going to hell for swearing like a drunken sailor.”
High winds blew the snow across the roadway, drifting waves of white into large banks along the road. Her ability to detect the mountain of trees was impaired against a horizon of white cloud. Slowing the car to a crawl made driving bearable, but allowed the snow a better chance to accumulate on the vehicle.
Only ten minutes after exiting the highway, Danielle’s nerves were shot. A pulse pounded at her temple and her fingers white-knuckled the steering wheel. Tension rested heavy on every muscle in her body. “I shouldn’t be driving in the middle of the road, or a damn blizzard.” The thought of colliding into another vehicle coming in the opposite direction caused her breaths to falter. She kept her stare focused ahead and prayed with each turn she wouldn’t be blinded by headlights.
“This is all your fault Jackson.” Danielle should have stuck to her decision and stayed in The Garden City, where gardens bloomed early. She wanted to turn the car and drive back to the airport then catch the next flight out of nowhere-town, but she had no room to turn, and had no idea how wide the road was. Even the middle of the road was barely visible.
She continued at low speed, praying the next twenty minutes would quickly pass. The radio played a classic Elvis tune. She upped the volume and joined him in a duet. Something caught her attention from the side of the road. The greyish-white ball was hard to distinguish in the falling snow. Its sudden movement of darting out in front of the car caused her to jerk the steering wheel and slam a foot on the brake. The tires wrestled with a mound of snow then struggled on a patch of ice. The car veered to the left. Danielle jerked the wheel to the right. She willed the tires to grip, but the vehicle had a mind of its own, spinning out of control and nose-diving over the shoulder of the road.
The airbag deployed, sending an acrid smell and a powdery dust into the air. Danielle released the breath she had been holding and blinked. She unfastened her seatbelt and pushed the airbag to the side. Her rapid heartbeat pounded in her ears. Closing her eyes, she leaned on the headrest, wiggling her fingers and toes. Her muscles ached, but at least everything still worked, and she wasn’t pinned beneath crushed metal.
A fresh blanket of snow impaired her view through the windshield. The side windows were steaming from her hurried breaths. She wiped the forming crystallized frost off her window with the back of a gloved hand. The greyish-white ball, that had thrown itself in front of her car, sat on its back legs, straightened to a stand, and watched her. Danielle squinted at the rabbit who reminded her of the many times she watched Bambi with her brother.
Thumper?
His button nose twitched back and forth. Then, as quickly as he’d jumped onto the road, he hopped over a snowbank and disappeared into the wilderness of white.
Closing her eyes, and hoping for the best, Danielle turned the key in the ignition. The car sputtered and grumbled. Nothing. No power meant no heat. She reached for her purse and pulled out her cell phone. No service. Just perfect! She slammed her hands on the steering wheel, releasing another cloud of powder from the airbag. She coughed and waved a hand, cursing Thumper who had no concern for his own life or hers.
She stared outside her side window. Maybe the rabbit had gone crazy living in Redford Falls. He could be out there, waiting to feast on her scrawny frame. His whole clan could be concealing themselves in the white-out and surrounding the car. She shook her head free of the ludicrous thoughts.
Why worry about starving animals when death by freezing would strike her first. She rubbed her leather-gloved hands over her arms. If someone, other than herself, had been dense enough to travel in this miserable weather, he or she wouldn’t see her vehicle. The rental’s silver colouring blended into the stormy landscape. The front end was buried and the rear end would be covered within minutes. She could be hit by a passing vehicle and sent farther down the hillside, or a plow might mistake her for a mound of snow and toss her aside like a piece of trash. The blizzard would soon have her trapped. She shivered from the cold, and from the crazy thoughts flooding her mind.
Freezing to death was a possibility. Danielle wasn’t dressed for minus who-in-their-right-mind-would-live-here temperatures. Her jacket had a faux-fur liner and the long sweater she wore covered her butt, but her black leggings were too thin for the bitter cold air. Another problem arose with her suede ankle boots and their three-inch heels. Not typically suitable for trudging through a foot or more of snow.
She’d tried opening her door and then the passenger side, but because of the angle of the car she was wedged tight in the snowbank. Applying layers of clothing wouldn’t be an option as her suitcase was stored in the trunk. Going outside would surely risk instant hypothermia and frostbite. Her thoughts ran wild. Stop! She’d drive herself crazy before frostbite had a chance to set in.
The frightful situation mimicked a chick-flick Danielle rented a few weeks ago. However, unlike the movie, she didn’t have access to her underwear to hang from the antenna, not that her white, silky camisole would be of any help considering the matching coloring outside. And, like the movie, a bottle of vodka would warm her cold bones and slip her into such a drunken stupor she’d have no worries about freezing to death. Frowning, she realized the slim chance of being discovered.
How long did it take for a body to lose alertness to the point of no return? Fingers and toes first? Danielle wiggled her already-numbing limbs. “Is this where my story ends?” Would winter take her as it had her brother? Refusing to cry icy tears, she inhaled and blew out a deep breath. The heated puff fogged in the frosty air. Fear and dread gripped tight. She trembled uncontrollably.
Danielle squeezed her eyes shut, warding away the bizarre images and senseless thoughts. “I’ve only been stranded less than a half-hour. I’m not going to freeze. I’m not going to die. A ruggedly handsome hero will arrive at any moment and rescue me.” She prayed, “If Prince Charming exists, please send him my way.”
A scraping and rumbling drifted in the blustery wind. She listened. Not a sound.
“I am going crazy. I’m hearing things, thinking about an icicle tomb, and talking to myself. I shouldn’t have much further to go before I completely—”
She heard the noise again. Danielle grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and rummaged inside. A relieved sigh escaped her. She gripped the mini emergency kit in her cold gloved hand. A Christmas present from her brother two years ago. The fake plastic tube of lipstick held an assortment of tiny screwdrivers and a flashlight. She’d thought the object to be a silly last-minute, I-didn’t-forget gift, but tonight the ridiculous present may save her life.
Though she ached from the plunge off the road and the frigid air seeping into the car, Danielle crawled over the seat and into the back. She tumbled roughly onto the floor. Willing her legs to move, she climbed onto the cold upholstery. She blew air onto the window then wiped the wet steam. As expected, snow had gathered on the rear windshield. “Stay focused, Danielle. Don’t give up.” She stared at the visible headlights. “If I can see them, hopefully they can see me.” She flicked the switch on the flashlight and moved it back and forth against the window. “Please find me.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “Don’t leave me.”
Chapter Three
“What’s up, Smokey?” Andrew Bailey glanced at the Siberian husky standing on the passenger seat of his red Super Duty pick-up truck.
The dog’s ears straightened and twitched.
Something had caught Smokey’s attention, but the forested terrain was a complete white-out. Andrew knew not to ignore the husky’s keen sense of awareness. Stopping the truck, he peered into the storm. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary other than the blizzard that had appeared suddenly and dumped a heavy snowfall.
Most of the surrounding roads were plowed by the Department of Transportation, but the fire department had procured the plowing contract for the small town of Redford Falls. Tonight, the crew had been caught off guard by the fierceness of the storm and scrambled to get their snowplows on the road. Keeping up with the storm’s momentum proved difficult. Andrew knew the snowstorm would keep residents home, so he’d closed his restaurant early and offered to volunteer. He hitched his plow onto his truck and had checked in at the fire station to be assigned a route.
Seeing no obstacles or hearing anything between wind gusts, Andrew shifted into Drive and continued to push the snow to the side of the road.
The dog howled and jumped to the back seat to stare out the rear window.
Andrew lifted the metal plow and slowly reversed. He continued backward, watching Smokey’s body language.
The dog’s breathing grew intense, steaming the window as he focused on the road.
Andrew turned on the flashing orange roof-running lights. He studied the road ahead and through the rear-view mirror. The chances of coming across another vehicle were unlikely, yet he preferred to act on the side of caution.
Smokey’s howling increased. He scratched at the back window, whining at a mountain of snow.
Andrew drove the truck closer to the mound. He pulled to the side of the road, pressed a foot on the brake, and parked. The dog stopped howling, offering Andrew an indication they were in the right spot. A flickering light caught his attention. He pressed a button on the dash to activate the truck’s four-way flashers and switched the orange lights to the white off-road. With the area lit, he could see a car’s rear end poking out from the ditch. The image intensified his heart rate. He prayed the accident had happened prior to the storm’s attack and its occupants were safe at home.
He zipped his coat to his neck, lifted the hood over his head, and slipped his hands into his insulated gloves. “Good boy, Smokey.” Andrew patted the husky’s head. “Stay. I’ll see if anyone is inside.” He opened the door and jumped out of the truck. A faint banging from the car was barely audible in the raging wind. Dread slapped his cheeks as did the bitter cold. He fetched a shovel from the truck, clearing a path to the car. The thick snow trapped each footstep he took. Getting to the vehicle became a gruelling task. Upon reaching his target, he gasped another breath before the wind once again assaulted his face. Andrew brushed snow from the back window with a thick-gloved hand. A woman’s anxious stare met his.
“Help me.” She pounded on the window.
“Stay calm. I’ll get you out.” He made the reassurance sound encouraging. “Are you alone?”
She nodded.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
Andrew surveyed the car’s dilemma. The front end dipped into the embankment. Pulling out the car would be impossible in the current weather conditions. He’d have to free a door from the packed snow and get her to the safety of his warm truck. Andrew didn’t know how long she’d been trapped in the storm, but seeing her reddening cheeks and shivering shoulders, he guessed there was no time to waste.
Continuing to shovel, he bent and dug deep into the layers of white, arms aching from the rapid pace. With each toss, he’d glance at the window to be certain the woman stayed alert.
Her hand trembled as she wiped frost off the window.
“I’m almost there.” Concern for her wellbeing provided him with recharged energy. The wind caused him to teeter backward into the snow. He straightened and resumed his mission, only to be tossed once again onto his butt. The storm wouldn’t provide a morsel of mercy, and Andrew wouldn’t give in to its fury. Freeing the door brought relief. Not a victory. Unease still lurked. The woman might be suffering from serious injuries. She said she wasn’t hurt, but she could have a concussion or internal issues.
He reached for the handle.
She pushed for freedom.
The door wouldn’t open. “The car must have a safety lock. You have to unlock from the front or with the keys.”
She disappeared from view.
He held a breath. Seconds passed too slowly. He considered smashing the window with the shovel. Inhaling, he poised the shovel like a bat ready to strike a home run. The wind howled and whipped ice pellets at his face. The blizzard had maximized its anger. Freezing rain would make the roads treacherous. Andrew had to break this woman free and get them both to safety.
The door suddenly opened, pushing him backward and blowing the hood off his head.
“You!” she said.
Wearing no hat or scarf to offer warmth from the cold, she glared a stare frostier than the freezing rain falling from the sky.
“You’re the guy from that restaurant. The one who spilled tomato sauce on my designer suit.”
Andrew dropped the shovel. Blondie? He never thought he’d see the sassy blonde again. Nine months ago, unsatisfied with the restaurant and its menu, she barrelled toward the door, knocking into his arm and causing him to drop a plate of chicken parmesan. She called him a country redneck and poured a glass of water from a nearby table over his head. The thunderous blonde swore she wouldn’t set foot in Redford Falls again. So what was she doing here in the middle of a blizzard? Sighing, he reached inside the car.
“What are you doing?” She held up a shaky hand.
“Saving your butt.” He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.
Her thin legs wobbled as soon as her feet touched ground. She slid out of his hold and settled in a heap by his boots. “You dropped me on purpose!”
“What? Why would I do that?”
“Payback for the water—”
He hoisted her to a vertical position, keeping a tight grip this time.
“I’m quite capable of standing.” She shoved at his chest.
The torrential wind and a squirming woman toppled his stance. Andrew fell backward and Blondie followed, landing roughly against him.
She struggled to stand, pushing him farther into the cold snow. “I can walk on my own.” She stumbled.
He glanced at her feet. “Not in those boots. Who wears ankle boots with a nail-thin heel in a blizzard?” Gusts of blustery wind from old-man-winter burned his cheeks. “I’ve had enough of this storm. You have two choices. Stay here and freeze, or let me help you to my truck.” Even as unfriendly as their first encounter had been—and their second wasn’t going much better—he couldn’t leave her.
Shaking, she wrapped herself in a tight body hug.
Nodding, he took her gesture as an answer. Andrew put one arm behind her back and the other under her knees. He lifted her slender frame effortlessly in his arms.
“Put me down!”
“Seriously? I’m trying to help you.” For someone whose car ended up in a snowbank, and had spent an unknown amount of time in a cold car, she found enough strength to pound his chest and kick her legs in the air. He vividly recalled her outspoken disposition at the restaurant, but he also took into consideration her probable panic and apprehension, the fault of being alone in an accident. Andrew inhaled a breath and mustered his patience.
Her struggle caused one of her boots to slip off. It flew into the windy air.
“My boot!”
He turned and saw only a sheet of white. “I hope you have another pair.” Andrew trudged through the path he’d shovelled earlier, which had quickly filled. After opening the passenger door of his truck, he dropped her onto the seat.
“My purse and suitcase.”
Grumbling under his breath, Andrew trekked back to the car to retrieve her belongings. He tossed them into the back seat beside Smokey then jumped into the driver’s seat. Cranking the heat, he lowered the plow and drove back onto the road.
