by Maisey Yates
She put her hand on his forearm, breathing hard.
“Good Lord,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m going to have to pull off till it eases up. Assuming I can find a spot. See a spot.”
“Where the hell are we?”
“Somewhere between Gold Valley and Lake Oswego,” he said.
She thought she should probably laugh at that comment, because obviously... But her heart was still beating too quickly.
He took his phone out, and she could see that he didn’t have any bars. She didn’t hold out any hope that it meant she would either. He pulled off slowly, and she could feel the truck slide, then sink.
“Oh...” she said. “We’re not going to be able to get back out.”
“We’ll be able to get back out.”
Not today.
Not soon.
He didn’t say that but she knew it. So did he.
The snow didn’t ease.
They sat there, the engine idling, the heater doing its best to keep them from freezing.
“I thought I was going to die in my truck all alone. But it turns out I’m going to die in your truck sitting next to you. I have to tell you, it is not an infinitely more cheering prospect.”
“We’re not going to die,” he said.
“You don’t know that.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t know that on any given day. But I don’t figure as a matter of course that I’m going to die, and I don’t really figure it now.”
“But again,” she said. “You don’t know.”
“For the love of God, Honey.”
He didn’t say anything after that. He was just breathing in irritation.
Hard and heavy, and she became very aware of her own breathing. Of her heart beating. She turned to look at him, suddenly afraid.
“What are we going to do?”
“Not panic,” he said.
“This is how people die,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said. “It is. But I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You understand?”
His brown eyes were sincere, and that was so unusual that it twisted up her insides. Plus she was afraid.
And for some reason, it was stirring deep truths and longings inside her. Making her feel shaken.
She suddenly felt very aware of how close they were. Of the heat coming off his body. Especially as things outside began to cool.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said. He moved his hand across the empty space on the truck seat and placed it over hers. “I swear.”
She shivered, looking away. “Okay.”
“It’s going to be all right.”
“I believe you,” she said.
She jerked her hand away, feeling suddenly beset by his touch.
It didn’t mean anything to him. He was comforting her like he would a child. But it made her too hot. Even in all this cold. They both knew that no one was going to happen by. Because everybody was getting off the road. There was not going to be any help coming for them unless it was somebody specifically looking for people who were stuck.
And neither of them were relishing the prospect of sleeping outside, she was sure.
“I’m going to get out and take a look around.”
“No,” she said, leaping forward, grabbing onto his hand. “People do that and they don’t come back.”
“I’m going to come back.”
“They always think they will.”
“I will not get away from the view of the truck. I promise you.”
“Promise,” she said. “You know... You know that happened to that man... The family got stuck and he walked away and...”
“I know,” he said. “But I’m not going to lose sight of the truck. I just need to see if there’s anyone else around here. Or if there’s a house even.”
“This is the middle of nowhere.”
“It’s the middle of we don’t know where. That’s a fact. So I’m just going to see.”
And then Jericho opened up his truck door and stepped out into the snow.
Three
The weather outside made a witch’s tit look like Hawaii. It was cold. And he was not prepared for a blizzard. But then, he didn’t figure there was going to be a blizzard. Sure, there had been a forecast for snow, but it was Oregon. The much talked about snow apocalypse was always only ever a few flakes. If anything, you might get a foot, but nothing like this. Nothing like this. This was unprecedented. And crazy.
He kept his word to Honey, keeping one eye on the truck as he walked up and down the side of the road, then took a step into the woods to see if he could see houses.
Under the cover of the trees there was less snowfall, and there was better visibility. That was good.
His hand burned. From where he had covered hers with his. Ill-advised. But she had been afraid. And he’d have been a bigger jerk if he hadn’t tried to comfort her.
There was something about the fact she was telling him all this when she’d told no one else that made it feel different.
There was also something about being away from the vineyard, sitting with her in his truck, that made her feel different. It made things between them feel different, and he couldn’t say that he liked it overly much.
It was just... Not what it was supposed to be.
Right, and you need to be thinking about this while you’re in a survival situation?
He kept thinking of the way she’d said dick. His dick, in fact.
Honey used vulgar language all the time. It was kind of her thing. She was surrounded by men, and he kind of assumed that she tended to overdo it a little bit to prove that she was one of them.
But that was different. It felt different.
He felt it right on the aforementioned body part.
Just find some shelter, asshole.
All right, so he’d lied to Honey a little bit. He took hold of his scarf, unwrapped it from his neck and set it right next to a tree that was parallel to the car. As long as he kept a visual on that, he would be fine. The visibility was just so much better in the woods.
He pushed forward, always keeping the scarlet red of that scarf in his view.
He was looking for a house. Someplace that would have a phone so that they could call.
Anybody out here would have a landline. Or a phone that managed to get service somehow.
And then he saw it, just barely visible under the cover of the trees. A cabin. It was huge, but there were no lights on. It didn’t look like anyone was there.
Well. He was not sitting on the side of the road with Honey. And... Hell. If he had to break into the place to use a landline, he would.
He crossed the expansive trees and went up through the back of the house. He knocked just in case. But there was nothing. No one.
There was a lockbox on the door, like it was something that was for sale. He checked every window and found one in the back ajar. He pushed it up, popped the screen out and climbed in.
And he really the hell hoped that he didn’t trip a burglar alarm, or anything of the kind, because he didn’t especially want to get shot, either by a homeowner or a cop, in the pursuit of shelter. But this was an emergency. He laughed, because no cop was going to come out here even if a burglar alarm was tripped.
So there was that. The weather had caused the problem, but at least it was helping with this part.
He walked through toward the front door and saw a big basket sitting there. There were bottles of wine in it, and there was a piece of paper sitting in a plastic sleeve.
He looked down at it. Welcome to Pineview. There were instructions for everything in the house, plus a list of amenities.
A vacation rental. He’d stumbled on a vacation rental. Hell.
He went to flip on some l
ights, and realized there weren’t any. Then he looked down at the paper again.
In this off-grid retreat...
Well. Shit. However, he could see from the amenities paper that there should be a way to start a fire. A way to get lights going. And there were generators. For the hot water and for the toilets. All in all, it could be worse.
The paper also had a code to access the lockbox, and he did so, taking the keys out with him, before going back and replacing the screen on the window and closing it.
Wine in hand, he walked out the front door and back toward where he left the scarf.
From there, he made his way to the truck.
The visibility was so poor. He could hardly see.
He jerked the door open on the passenger side of the truck, and Honey jumped. “Oh,” she said. “I did not see you.”
“This is ridiculous,” he said, pulling the door open with great effort. The snow was up to the bottom of it, piling higher and higher.
“Come on out,” he said.
She did, as best she could. But there was a fair amount of wrestling with the snow in trying to get the door to open.
“Crazy,” she said.
“I know it.”
They both had suitcases in the back that were now covered with snow.
“What exactly are we doing?”
“I found a house.”
“And they’re letting us come inside?”
“Kind of.”
He hefted her suitcase out of the back of the truck and handed it to her. Then he took her free hand with his and led her into the woods. She was wearing gloves, which offered a barrier to their touch. But he still felt the fact that he was holding Honey Cooper’s hand.
She dropped hold of it when they were beneath the trees. He stopped and gathered his scarf.
“What was that?”
“A marker. I didn’t keep the truck in sight. But I kept that in sight, and I knew that the truck was just parallel to it.”
“Of course you couldn’t just be safe,” she said.
“Hey, I found a house,” he said. “You should just be thankful.”
“That’s a very male thing to say,” she said.
“I’m a man,” he responded.
“Sure,” she said.
He gestured in front of them. “It’s just through here.” They went through the trees, and the house was still there, standing dark.
“I thought you said...”
“I didn’t say anything. It’s a vacation rental.”
“A vacation rental.”
“Handily, with a list of amenities right inside.”
He pushed open the door, and she followed behind him.
“Damn,” she said. “It’s as cold in here as it is out there.”
“But dry,” he said. “It’s off-grid.”
“Off-grid,” she squeaked.
She looked so distressed it might have been funny if there was anything funny about it. “Yeah,” he said. “But there’s fire starter. And it’s designed to be this way. So, if the power goes out in the broader world everywhere, we’ll be just fine here.”
“Because the power’s already out,” she said.
“But again,” he said. “Set up for it.” He gestured around. “Lanterns.”
“Seems a fire hazard,” she said.
“Are you going to get overly excited and knock any of the lanterns down?”
“No,” she sniffed.
“Well then, I expect it’s fine.”
He watched as Honey wandered around the room, setting her suitcase down and ferreting about.
He looked down at the paper. “So if we get the generators to fire up, you can use the bathrooms.”
“Well, thank God for that. I wouldn’t have relished going outside to take care of things.”
“No,” he said.
“What else have we got?”
“There’s a store of food. A root cellar and some evaporative cooling. Apparently. The off-grid experience is enhanced by the foods that they stock and provide. There is salted meat.”
She looked around as if everything in the room might be a potential threat. And damned if he didn’t find it...cute.
What the hell. He didn’t do cute.
“Well,” she said. “I feel like a pioneer.”
“You don’t sound thrilled about it.”
“In fourth grade we had to spend an entire year playing Oregon Trail. I had enough party members die of dysentery to be cured of this fantasy.”
“I always liked Oregon Trail.”
“Sure. As a game. Less so as something I actually have to experience. I do not have an endless supply of bullets with which to go hunt buffalo.”
He leaned into the humor of the moment because it was that or lean into the tension, and he didn’t want to do that. “You wouldn’t be able to find any buffalo in this weather anyway.”
“Maybe they have some of the salted meat,” she said.
“I guess we’ll have to find out.”
“Right now I’m more cold than I am hungry. I stuffed a protein bar in my face before you came to pick me up.”
“Why?”
“I felt imperiled. Which made me feel hungry.”
“Right. Well. Fair enough.”
She scampered into the living room and he followed behind her. And saw that she was already taking out the fire starting gear from the basket near the hearth.
“Looks pretty good.”
In this room there was a large fireplace. And he had noticed that there was a den off to the side where there was a woodstove.
That would actually likely produce more effective heat.
He assumed that whatever they cooked on in the kitchen also ran on wood heat. And it might benefit them to fire everything up.
“You got this?”
“Of course I’ve got this,” she said. “I’m a country girl.”
He chuckled. It was getting dark outside, and he took one of the lighters and a little lantern and decided to carry it with him.
The cabin was cavernous, massive, but it was also solid and sturdy and fairly well insulated from the cold outside. Rustic, but comfortable.
The furniture was expensive, very nice. There was a big bedroom with a large king-size bed. And furs covering what looked like a pretty plush mattress.
And instantly, he pictured laying Honey down on those furs.
The image was so stark, so clear, that it made him jerk back. Shit. He could not be having thoughts like that. That just wasn’t going to fly.
There was a big fireplace in there, which was good.
The other two bedrooms did not have a heat source.
He assumed that this place was mostly for rent during the summer. He couldn’t imagine people going to the trouble of trying to rent it this time of year. And with weather like this it was basically a liability. He went back down the stairs, and there was a raging fire going in the living room.
“Well done,” he said.
“I’m not entirely useless,” she said.
“You’re not even a little bit useless. I’m pretty damn sure you know that.” Their eyes met and held for a long moment.
And it made him conscious of how alone they were.
And how beautiful she was.
He looked away.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I feel a little bit like I might be useless.”
“Is this about the winery again?”
“It’s hard for things not to be about the winery right now.”
“I get that. I really do. I get it. But I don’t think it was actually a commentary on you. Your dad wanted out from under it. He told me...he hasn’t really been happy there for a long time. You may not believe this, but he approached me about it. I’m n
ot sure that he’s thinking any deeper than that. He’s not capable of seeing the winery as a dream right now.”
“Well, but...”
“He cautioned me plenty, even as he offered it. But the thing is, it’s in a much different state now than it was all those years ago when he first started. It’s profitable, it’s got a full staff. Asking Jackson to look after things is kind of a formality. I think your dad sees a younger person wanting to take over the winery and remembers himself at my age...”
Honey snickered.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“A younger person.”
“I’m young,” he said.
This was just insulting. He was in his midthirties, for heaven’s sake, and this child, who was not a child at all, but a woman he found incredibly attractive, was laughing at him.
“Not really.”
“Wow.”
“Well. I’m just saying. You’re not as young as I am.”
Damned if he didn’t know that.
“No,” he said. “I’m not.”
“Just making sure you remember.”
Suddenly, that statement took on an edge, and it sliced through his gut like a knife.
“All right,” he said. “Quit mouthing off and let’s figure out something to eat.”
“I hope that nobody’s going to show up,” she said.
“I don’t think anyone’s showing up. Even if they had a reservation... If we can’t get out, people sure can’t get in.”
“Fair. This is so wild.”
She stood and looked out the window, and he gazed at her, silhouetted by the waning light. The snow was beginning to pile up in earnest, even with the cover of the trees.
“There’s no internet. Obviously. And there’s no service. So until we are able to get out of here... We’re not going to be able to get in touch with anyone.”
“Great. So my truck is just going to be sitting up where we left it. Good thing I brought my stuff.”
“Good thing.”
“What are the Daltons going to think when you don’t show up?”
