Hannah hissed in a breath at the dilemma. Staying with Gabe was out of the question. As a single woman, she couldn’t stay overnight alone with a single man. And a single man who wasn’t Amish? Her folks would be upset. Even the more open-minded ones in the community would be appalled. As for Jethro and the bishop... Well, it wasn’t possible.
“The Thompsons said I could stay with them if I ever needed.” Hannah liked the Englisch couple who frequently drove for the Amish. “But I don’t know about taking puppies there.”
“You fill me in on what to do. I’ll take care of them at my apartment until you can get back to town. I need to call into dispatch and tell them I’m finished here.” With a squeeze of her hand, he freed his to reach for the radio clipped to the driver-side visor. After Gabe advised the situation was wrapped up and they were heading back to town, he reattached it.
“I wish I could let my folks know I was all right. They would’ve expected me by now.”
“Do you have the number of their closest phone hut? We can give them a quick call before we head in.” Gabe reached for a side pocket of his pants.
Hannah’s gaze sharpened when Gabe shifted abruptly to use both hands in an apparent search. Her heart rate accelerated at his grim expression as he quickly checked other pockets.
“My phone.” Gabe’s voice was flat as he plucked at an open flap along the edge of his pants. He closed his eyes in obvious frustration. “I’m going to check the car. If I’m lucky, I’ll find it in there.” Opening his eyes, he puffed out his cheeks. “If I’m not, it probably slipped out when I slid down the ditch.” They both looked out the window to where the wind had already filled in the furrow created by his slide down the incline. “And someone will find it in the spring.”
With a glance at her face, Gabe hooked a rueful smile. “I won’t be long.” Once more, wind blasted through the cab when the door opened. Tucking the blanket she’d retrieved more closely about her legs, she watched as a small light bounced around the interior of the stranded car. When Gabe emerged a short time later, she tensed, only to sag against the seat when he waved his arms in obvious failure in his search.
After a brief battle with the wind over the door, Gabe lunged into the truck. He brushed the snow out of his hair. “It’s not there. I’m sorry.”
Aware of his obvious distress, Hannah reached out to touch his arm. “Why are you apologizing to me? Having a phone is more of a shock to my life than not having one.” Her heart hiccupped when he shared her smile. “When I get to the Thompsons, I’ll leave a message for my folks that I’m all right. That way, they’ll know when someone goes to check.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Gabe carefully backed the truck on the highway until his headlights picked up a snow-filled lane. Two perpendicular lines along its length had been blurred to insignificance by the relentless wind. Reaching over to shift something in the console, he sighed deeply. “I hope four-wheel drive can get us out. Otherwise we’ll be spending the night here, and I can’t guarantee the accommodations. Hang on. It’s going to be a bit of a ride.”
He wasn’t joking. Hannah gripped the handhold next to the ceiling as the truck bucked its way up the lane. They finally made it to the top, where even the driving snow couldn’t make the house and nearby building look less dilapidated.
Upon shifting into Park, Gabe kept the engine running. “I’ll get them.”
Hannah already had her hand on the door handle. “I’m going with you.”
She followed in his footsteps along the unshoveled walk. On the porch, they stomped their feet against the worst of the snow and entered the front door. Although not cold, it was definitely cool in the house. Having been there before, Gabe led the way to the dimly lit kitchen. In a large box tucked in the corner of the room, two black-and-white puppies snoozed and cuddled together on an old blanket.
Hannah knelt next to the box. “Oh, you sweeties!”
“Looks like Border collies. How old do you think they are?”
One of the pups lifted its head and yawned. “About four weeks, I’d say.” Reaching out a hand, Hannah stroked a finger down the white strip between its little ears.
Gabe was nosing around the shabby kitchen. “I see some supplies here. What do we need to take with us to get them through the night and maybe the next day? I’ve got blankets, and probably a box, at the apartment.”
Hannah was relieved to see that, unlike the kitchen, the pups seemed to be in good shape. Reluctantly, she rose and looked toward where Gabe stood by a counter crowded with many things, among them, fortunately, puppy supplies. “Definitely some of the milk supplement.” She spied an open bag of puppy food. “Looks like he’s started them on solid food. We’ll need that, too. We’ll mix it with the supplement. Um...do you have some type of flat pan or bowl they can eat from at your place, or do we need to bring this one?” She toed the empty bowl on the floor by the box.
“I think I’m good. Don’t want to take more than we can carry.” Gabe met Hannah’s gaze across the dimly lit room. “Just in case,” he added grimly.
Nodding at the implicit direction to hurry, Hannah turned back to the pups. “If you can grab the supplies, I’ve got the pups.” Kneeling again, she scooted her hand under each warm little body. Mr. Weathers might not have taken care of himself, but he’d taken care of his young charges. Squirming, the pups squeaked at being rousted from their home. She clutched them to her chest as Gabe secured her cloak to ensure they were covered. When he paused, Hannah glanced up to meet his smiling green gaze. The look in them was as warm as the precious bundles she held. When she smiled hesitantly, Gabe leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.
Before she could do more than blink, he’d turned to gather the requested supplies from the counter. “Ready?”
He meant to go out the door with him and face the snow storm. Momentarily rooted on the dingy linoleum, Hannah realized she was ready for a lot of things. Including facing whatever storms might come in order to have a life with the man who currently shared a stranger’s shoddy kitchen with her.
“Ja,” she whispered, exhaling a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding.
Supplies gripped in one hand, the other under Hannah’s elbow to support her, Gabe led them to the still-running truck. The pups, awakened from the trip over the yard, yipped softly and began nosing their way out of the opening of her cloak as she settled into the seat. Although her lap was warm with the pups there, Hannah frowned when she extended a snow-dusted foot under the dash. The fan was blowing, but the truck’s heater was making little headway against the biting cold outside.
Gabe shifted it into gear. “Hang on. Although we have better tracks to follow, the trip out might not be much better than the one in.”
They jolted down the lane, windshield wipers battling furiously against the driving snow, then lurched from the end of the lane onto the highway. Hannah’s sigh of relief morphed into gasps when the truck kept skidding over the slippery surface.
Gabe wrestled it into control. A moment later, they were creeping back toward town. If Hannah thought the trip out had been slow and treacherous, the return in the gathering darkness was more so. When a collection of weakly glowing lights, as opposed to sporadic ones indicating an Englisch farmyard, was visible through the blowing snow, she knew they were approaching Miller’s Creek.
Trying to relax tensed muscles, she looked over in question when Gabe made a slow, careful turn into a lane, this one shorter and fortunately plowed sometime during that day.
“The Thompsons. But it’s not looking good that they’re home.”
Gabe’s concern was warranted. Hannah stayed in the truck when he went to the door and watched as he knocked once, twice, thrice. No answering light came on throughout the house’s dark interior.
Gabe sighed when he got back into the truck. “I doubt they’d mind you staying, but unlike Amish homes, they keep theirs
locked. Now what?”
Hannah stroked a hand over the again slumbering puppies. “I don’t know when these two have last eaten. We need to get them someplace warm and feed them. I can stay in the shop.” She smiled wryly. “I have access to plenty of blankets. That way I can help you with the puppies. They need to eat every six hours or so.”
“If you’re sure?”
“Ja, I’m sure.”
They crept out onto the road again. “Almost there.” Gabe glanced over to give her a reassuring smile.
As he negotiated a sweeping curve in the road at the edge of town, a brutal gust of wind hit them, pushing the truck sideways. Immediately, Gabe responded to correct the slide, but the icy surface had them in its grasp. His efforts to counter their careen toward the ditch were futile. Hissing in a breath, Hannah clutched the seat belt that secured her with one hand as she curved her body over the puppies to protect them. She stiffened her legs, as if the action could somehow stop the truck’s spin. Wide-eyed, she watched as they skidded toward the ditch and its sharp decline.
Chapter Fourteen
The truck shuddered beneath Hannah as it left the road, skittering over the shoulder and into the ditch. The pickup rocked hard to a halt, ending at a slant toward the passenger’s side. Items on the center console tumbled into Hannah as she hovered over the puppies. Something black flew across her vision to crash into the window. She’d slid over the seat, her grip on the seat belt saving her from being plastered against the door. Out her window, the only thing Hannah could see beyond it was the wind-curled top of a snowbank.
“Are you all okay?” Even competing with the moan of the wind and the rumble of the engine, the urgency in Gabe’s voice was unmistakable.
Heart rocketing, Hannah took stock of her little passengers. Running a gentle hand over them, she could feel little paws press into her lap as they stretched. One climbed up her cloak to sniff at the ribbon of her kapp that dangled on the outside of her cloak.
“Ja. I think so.” She tried to lean away from the door, only to find that gravity kept a possessive hold on her. “But I seem to be stuck.”
“It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.”
Hannah twisted in her seat to unbuckle the belt now restricting her movements. With feet pressed in the foot wheel and one hand on the steering wheel to brace him, Gabe reached across the console with his other to help. They both froze when the truck creaked and shifted toward the downslope of the steep ditch.
Hannah couldn’t seem to find any air. “Is it...going to tip?” she whispered.
With a grunt, Gabe maneuvered in his seat until he was leaning his weight against the driver’s door. Mouth flattened into a thin line, he scanned the snow-enshrouded dusk outside the windshield. Hannah gasped as a blast of wind shook the vehicle. As the truck creaked again, Hannah slid a fraction of an inch closer toward her door. With a shared wide-eyed gaze, they both held their breaths.
* * *
Gabe’s heart squeezed at the fear he saw in Hannah’s eyes. He had gotten her into this. If anything happened to her because of him...
He wasn’t going to try to drive out. Any rocking motion to get traction in the snow could tip them over. Their tailpipe could be covered already. If it wasn’t cleared, the cab could fill with carbon monoxide. If he couldn’t keep it cleared, they’d need to shut off the truck. The pickup was shelter from the wind, but not from the cold without the heater. Even with the engine running and the fan full blast, frigid air was seeping in from every corner.
Conventional wisdom was to stay with the vehicle. Biting the inside of his cheek, Gabe narrowed his eyes at the lights that heralded the homes and businesses of town. Downtown and his apartment lay just beyond. A short distance, but was he foolish to even consider trying for it? Would he be risking their lives if they left the shelter of the vehicle?
The truck shuddered under another gust. Hannah’s face paled beneath her black bonnet.
Glancing at the gauges, Gabe shut off the truck and withdrew the keys. Without the comforting rumble of the engine, the wail of the wind was unobscured.
“I don’t like our options. We have shelter here, but not enough fuel to last the night. If the truck tips...” Gabe pressed his lips together. He wished he was certain he wasn’t making a mistake with their lives. He nodded toward the windshield. “Can you see the lights of town?”
Hannah nodded hesitantly.
Gabe rubbed his forehead. “I normally wouldn’t recommend this... We can’t call out with my phone gone and, if I’m not mistaken, the radio in pieces at your feet. Hard telling how long we’d be here before help can arrive. I haven’t seen another vehicle on the trip back into town. If they’ve closed the roads, we probably wouldn’t.
“But if the truck tips, we might then be dealing with injuries.” He nodded toward the puppies that were investigating Hannah’s lap. “They have needs we can’t meet here.” Gabe regarded her grimly. “I can walk in and try to find help...”
Hannah drew in a breath as her gaze darted about the cab. “I’d rather not stay here alone. I think... I’d prefer level ground. With you.” She gave him a tremulous smile, although Gabe could see it was with effort. “Even when a bad storm would blow up, the cows still need to be milked. We always made it to the barn to take care of the livestock. Of course—” the bow under her chin bobbed as she swallowed “—the barn wasn’t quite so far from the house.”
“I’ll get you to safety.” Or he’d die trying, Gabe vowed.
It was agreed. They cautiously maneuvered to gather what they’d need and could carry. Using empty grocery bags Gabe had left in the truck, they condensed the puppy supplies to what they figured would be immediately necessary. Hannah carefully wiggled into Gabe’s spare coat, the sleeves long enough to cover her hands to protect them from the cold. A bungee cord used by Gabe while moving his possessions to the apartment was discovered in the console.
Every time the truck rocked under a strong gust, he and Hannah stared at each other with bated breath.
“The wind should be at our backs, which will help. Once we get among buildings, they’ll block some of its force.” Gabe gazed out the window toward the lights of town. “We’re close enough we won’t lose direction.” He looked back to Hannah. “And you won’t lose me. But it will be dangerously cold.” Gabe’s stomach clenched. He’d seen situations where people had died of exposure within yards of help. Even wearing the extra coat, he eyed Hannah’s thick stockings and bonnet doubtfully, and he asked, “Will you be okay in those?”
She nodded with a half smile. “Try riding in an unheated buggy for a couple of hours. I’ll be fine.”
Across the confines of the tilted cab, Gabe regarded her. Nose red with cold, hair strands straggling from under her bonnet, eyes cautious but calm, delicate hands peeping from outsize sleeves holding two wiggling puppies clutched to her chest. She’d never looked more beautiful.
“You know, I thought you were wonderful when I met you. I’ve now realized I had no idea how wunderbar you really are.”
Hannah ducked her head, pressing her check against one of the pups. “I...I feel the same.”
A blast of wind battered the truck again. Gabe shot a hand to the dash as he felt the vehicle lift off its driver’s-side wheels. Hannah squeaked, her mouth open in an unvoiced cry. When the truck bounced back down again, Gabe blew out a breath. Slipping the strap of his jump bag to sling over his chest, he adjusted it so he could unzip his coat and fleece vest. Upon tucking his vest into his belt, he reached a hand toward Hannah.
“Let’s go. Give me the babies.”
She handed up the puppies one at a time. Gabe carefully tucked them into his vest, resting miniature paws against his chest on both sides before he zipped it up. He then zipped up his coat, ensuring there was room at the neck for air to reach his young passengers.
“Ready?” He winced as she pushed the blanket
aside. “I wish we could take that along, but I think it’d blow around and be more in the way. Okay, I’m going to open the door and ease out. When I’m out, I’ll dangle the bungee cord across the seat, and you can use it to lever out, as well.” He gave Hannah what he hoped was a reassuring smile and not the grimace of concern he was feeling.
Heart pounding so hard he figured the pups pressed against his chest felt it, Gabe grasped the door handle and clicked it open. Bracing his feet in the driver’s footwell, he wedged it open. The wind howled, pushing back. With a grunt, Gabe swung his legs out of the truck, shifting until he found secure footing. The wind slammed the door against him. Gabe winced at the bite of his shins against the truck. Pressing his backside firmly against the quaking door, he reached back into the cab for Hannah.
Down the slant of the truck, Hannah’s face revealed the trust that struggled to overcome her fear. Gabe’s heart stumbled. When they were out of this, he was going to do everything he could to ensure he was never involved in distressing her again.
Shaking the cord toward Hannah, he raised his voice so she could hear him over the howling wind. “Always knew life with you would be an adventure.”
At his words, some of her fear dissipated as she wrapped one hand around the cord and used the other to lever herself along the dash. The bags of supplies were hooked on her elbow. “I could do with a little less adventure right about now.”
Braced by Gabe, Hannah climbed up the seat and over the console and was soon situated beside Gabe in the wedge of the driver’s door. At their first step away from the shelter of the truck, they were almost knocked to their knees by the gusts at their back. With one of Gabe’s arms supporting his passengers, the other hand gripping Hannah’s elbow, they climbed out of the ditch. Finding some traction on the road’s shoulder, they stumbled ahead of the wind.
Her Forbidden Amish Love Page 14
