Kiss or Kill Under the Northern Lights

by Susan Johnson

  I stacked two reams of paper next to my typewriter on the sturdy wooden table and set out my notebooks and pens. I wheeled the ergonomic desk chair out of the corner and up to the table. I had brought the chair up here last summer, and it made long writing sessions so much easier. Grabbing a can of sparkling water from the refrigerator, I settled into my chair and began writing.

  2

  ~ Lindsey ~

  By the time I’d loaded up Gretch, stopped for my requisite road trip vanilla latte at Caribou Coffee, and made it out of the cities, the snow had already started falling. The farther north I got, the harder it fell. Even though it was still daylight, the driving snow made seeing further than about fifty feet in front of me next to impossible. Traffic, what little there was on the Interstate, was barely crawling. I could see brake lights ahead, but the visibility was so limited I wasn’t able to see why cars were slowing even more. I tuned in a local radio station hoping to get a road condition update, but all they were talking about was the snow arriving much earlier than expected. No kidding.

  I inched along, the windshield wipers clogging with the heavy, wet flakes. I turned the defrost to its highest setting and the flashing lights of emergency vehicles came into view. A semi-truck had slid off the road and was laying on its side just off the shoulder of the road. Having grown up in Minnesota, driving in the winter was something I was used to. However, this snail’s pace was something I’d not seen in a long time. I was grateful my exit was just a few miles ahead and was hopeful I’d make it to the cabin before dark.

  Gretch fishtailed several times going up the exit ramp, and my heart raced as I slid through the stop sign at the top. Thankfully, there didn’t appear to be anyone else brave enough—make that stupid enough—to be out on the roads. I carefully turned onto the narrower road that led to the cabin. This road had not yet been plowed, but the heavy tree coverage on both sides helped diminish the accumulation, if just a little. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, confident I’d be able to make the two miles I had left. I kept driving, inching cautiously along. The snow was drifting in areas where there was less tree coverage, and Gretch was struggling to maintain forward motion. The cabin was just around the curve, so I pressed on the gas a little harder hoping a bit more speed might make plowing through the drift ahead and around the curve a bit easier.

  A sudden swirl of snow completely wiped out my visibility as I was trying to negotiate the curve in the road. My foot instinctively went to my brake pedal, the little car’s back-end swung to the left, and my heart pounded as I frantically turned the steering wheel to correct the slide, but it was no use. Gretch veered off the road and down into the ditch with a whump as it plowed into a snowbank.

  Could this week possibly get any worse? The snow was up to the top of the window of the driver’s door and I knew it was futile to even attempt to open it. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry at this point, I crawled over the center console and pushed open the passenger door to assess the damage. Gretch was almost completely buried, just the top of her bubbled roof and the passenger side were visible in the bank where she’d landed. Not a chance she was going anywhere. I would have to walk the last half mile or so. I grabbed my purse and was struggling to pull my suitcase across the seat when I saw headlights approaching through the snow.

  My mind raced. Why was someone coming down the road from that direction? The cabin was the only place it could be coming from. Confused, I blinked several times to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. No, it was a large black truck, a truck I recognized as it got closer. It was Ryan Ford’s truck.

  Things just got worse.

  ~ Ryan ~

  “Lindsey is on her way here? I thought she was supposed to be in Hawaii?”

  “Jamaica, and she was supposed to be there. Her roommate, Hannah, just called me and said Lindsey was dumped so she decided to go to the cabin for a few days to regroup. She was supposed to let Hannah know when she got there, but Hannah hasn’t gotten a text or a phone call since Lindsey left. How bad is the weather up there? Can you get out?”

  I could hear the near panic in Logan’s voice. “It’s a total whiteout. I have my truck though and can use the four-wheel drive to see if I can find her. I’ll keep my phone on me, but you know the service is not great. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  “Thanks man, I owe you.”

  I shoved my phone in my pocket and got my coat, hat and boots on. I grabbed a flashlight off the closet shelf and one of the extra blankets out of the bedroom and headed to my truck. There was at least six inches of snow accumulation since I arrived just a few hours ago. Visibility was poor, but it wasn’t quite dark. Considering Lindsey should have been here some time ago, I was hoping she wouldn’t be far and that she would be okay.

  Why was she coming up here now, in this blizzard? I shook my head. When that girl had something set in her head there wasn’t much you could do to make her change her mind. I remembered the first time the Harpers let Logan and I spend a weekend up here by ourselves. It was the middle of summer before our senior year in high school, so Lindsey would have been about twelve. She had wanted to come with us in the worst way. We had planned on inviting a couple of the girls from the volleyball team to come up, so we could take them out on the lake in the boat. Logan didn’t want ‘Tagalong’ to be in the way. Or to tattle. We weren’t supposed to use the boat, especially not with female volleyball players.

  Who was standing on the dock waiting for us when we came off the lake? Tagalong. She had ridden the nearly fifteen miles from their home in Willow Creek to the cabin on her bicycle. In exchange for her silence, Logan and I drove to the gas station by the Interstate to call Logan’s mom and tell her Lindsey was staying with us for the weekend. She’d won. She usually did.

  I turned the switch to engage the four-wheel drive and began negotiating the narrow road. The wind made the snow appear to be falling sideways. I had just about made it around the curve when I noticed a flash of green in the ditch. Looking closer, I recognized the green top of a VW Beetle. It was half-buried in the snow. It had to be Lindsey. I slowed to a stop, threw the truck into park, and jumped out. The bright red pompom of a winter beanie rose up from the passenger side of the Beetle. A tangle of caramel brown curls tumbled from the bottom of the hat and when her green eyes met mine, I felt something in my mind click. Hoooo-ly shit, Tagalong was all grown up.

  3

  ~ Lindsey ~

  I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and was glad the cold could be blamed as I stood up and met Ryan’s gaze. His blue eyes were just as mesmerizing as they were the last time I saw him. I couldn’t think straight. What was he doing here?

  “Ryan?” I managed to choke out. I’d carefully managed to avoid being at the lake any time he might be here or at any event my brother hosted where I might run into him, and yet here he was. Making the shittiest week of my life even worse. I suddenly felt like I was a teenager again, looking at her biggest crush. One who’d humiliated her and broken her heart. “W-what are you doing here?” I stammered.

  He smiled that same crooked, easy smile that had made my stomach do flip-flops all those years ago. “Coming to save you, Tagalong.”

  It took a second for that old nickname to register in my addled brain. Tagalong, indeed. I’d always just been nothing more than my brother’s little sister to him. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. “No. What are you doing at our cabin? Do my parents know you’re here?” I seethed.

  His smile faded, “As a matter of fact, they do,” he answered, not volunteering any more information. “Question is, what are you doing here?”

  “It’s my cabin! I don’t need a reason to be here.” I snapped. Any other day, I would have been mortified by my rudeness. But today, I didn’t care. I hadn’t ever wanted to lay eyes on him again. I yanked my suitcase from the back seat and slammed the car door shut. Extending the handle, I squared my shoulders and began trudging out of the ditch dragging the heavy suitcase behind me. Every two steps I took f
orward, I slid one back in the wet, heavy snow.

  “Here, let me help you.” He reached his large, gloved hand toward me.

  “I’ve got it,” I snarled, tugging my luggage onto the road. “I don’t need your help!” I just needed him to go away. Stalking past him, I started down the road. I’d made it just about to the end of his truck when my boot slipped out from under me, and I landed flat on my back. Karma was a bitch.

  ~ Ryan ~

  The last time I’d seen Lindsey was the summer Logan and I had graduated from college. I’d gone to the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis, and Logan had gotten his degree from the University of North Dakota. He was going to be moving to St. Paul to take a job at 3M, and I was moving to Minneapolis to take a teaching job. We’d decided to spend a week at the cabin to relax before we moved into our respective apartments. She’d been about sixteen at the time, and way hotter than any best friend’s sister should have been. I was pretty sure she’d had a crush on me and, as flattering as her attempts at flirting were at the time, it was also totally wrong. Five years later, Lindsey was no longer a little teenage girl. Her cheeks were bright pink against the pale skin of her face, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold weather or the cold shoulder she was giving me. She was wearing a white down-filled parka and jeans that fit snug on her curves, and damn did she have curves. She’s out of bounds, I reminded myself and tried to help her out of the snowbank. She brushed past me, practically stomping her feet as she began walking away–only to end up flat on her back by the back of my truck. I suppressed a chuckle as I walked up to her.

  “Lindsey, come on. Get in the truck, and let’s go to the cabin. It’s snowing too hard to try to get your car out right now. Quit being so stubborn and let me help you up.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I told you, I don’t need your help.” Scrambling to her feet, she brushed the snow off her jeans and began walking away from me.

  I clenched my teeth for a moment and took a deep breath. I’d been “in the zone” with my writing when Logan called. I had a draft to send to my editor in three weeks and hadn’t made much progress on it at home. I had been confident I could finish it up here, but now I was not only dealing with a difficult woman, but she was going to be staying at the cabin too. And neither one us could leave, at least not until the snow stopped and the plows did their work.

  “Lindsey, I am not going to explain to your brother that I found you and then left you to walk back to the cabin by yourself during a blizzard. I don’t care how close it is. Get in the truck, and don’t argue with me.”

  She turned and looked at me for a moment. “Logan knows I’m here?”

  “Yes, your roommate hadn’t heard from you and called him. How do you think I knew to look for you?”

  She put a mitten-clad hand over her face and I could see she was struggling to gain control over her emotions. I wasn’t sure if I should try to comfort her or give her space. I settled on taking her suitcase and placed it in the back seat of the truck. She let out a sigh of resignation, climbed into the passenger seat, and shut the door.

  4

  ~ Lindsey ~

  The ride to the cabin was awkward and silent. I climbed out of Ryan’s truck and was reaching for my suitcase behind the seat when I felt him brush against me as he grabbed its handle and pulled it past me.

  “I’ve got it,” was all he said before he turned and walked inside.

  I followed, feeling a mixture of anger and self-loathing. I could hear Ryan on the phone in the kitchen, presumably with Logan, when I got inside. I kicked off my boots and hung my parka on one of the brass hooks on the wall.

  There was a fire burning in the fireplace, reflecting a soft glow around the great room. A large beige sectional filled one half of the room, and I noticed the small television had been replaced with a larger, flat screen model. There was no service up here, but there was an impressive collection of DVDs.

  I wheeled my suitcase into my bedroom. It was like stepping into a past from fifteen years ago. Pink candy-striped walls with white trim. An enormous canopy bed, draped with a sheer white veil, was swathed with a white, down comforter covered with delicate pink daisies. A thick, white woolen rug covered much of the scuffed hardwood floor. There was still a smudge of blue nail polish next to it that had refused to come off. I closed my eyes and took in the moment. A feeling of calmness began to flow through my veins until I suddenly remembered Ryan was here too.

  Quickly emptying my suitcase, I slid it under the bed, slipped my cell phone out of my pocket and sat on the edge of the mattress. No signal. That would explain why Hannah had called Logan instead of me. My carrier worked well in The Cities but had spotty service up north. My shoulders fell. That meant I’d have to ask Ryan to use his phone, which clearly worked fine, to call Hannah.

  I trudged back into the great room and made my way to the kitchen. The dining area separated the great room from the kitchen and there was an old electric typewriter on the table, along with a fancy desk chair I hadn’t seen before. Paper was strewn all across the table, and several crumpled pieces lay on the floor next to the chair. Ryan was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed in front of him, clearly waiting for me.

  “Was that Logan?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “My phone doesn’t work, I can’t call out.”

  “I assumed. Logan said he’d call your roommate.”

  “Good,” I retorted and turned to go back toward my bedroom.

  “Lindsey, what the hell is going on with you?” Ryan’s words stopped me dead in my tracks.

  I spun around, eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “What were you thinking driving up here by yourself in a blizzard? I know you’re smarter than that. What would you have done if I hadn’t been here?” Ryan’s eyes reflected a mix of anger and concern.

  “I didn’t need your help, Ryan. I was less than a mile from here and perfectly capable of walking. I am a grown woman, in case you hadn’t noticed. Why are you here anyways? Don’t you have a home?”

  Ryan shook his head. “Oh, I noticed. You know, you were a lot nicer back when you were a kid. We haven’t seen each other in years and now you can’t even talk to me?”

  “Exactly, Ryan. You haven’t seen me in years. You don’t know me anymore. I learned my lesson a long time ago about hanging out with my brother’s friends. All you see when you look at me is ‘Tagalong,’ and that hasn’t been me for a long time.”

  I could see the hurt and confusion in his eyes, and I felt like a small, spiteful person. He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.

  “Look, I’m sorry, Ryan. I wasn’t exactly planning on being here myself. I was planning on being in Jamaica. I wasn’t planning on getting dumped and left behind on a vacation I had been looking forward to for months. I wasn’t planning on getting Gretch stuck in a snowbank in the middle of nowhere.” Tears started streaming down my face—all the anger and resolve in me falling down my cheeks with them. “I wasn’t planning on seeing you here,” I practically whispered. “I just wanted to be alone.” I turned and walked into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me, and fell face-first onto the bed.

  ~ Ryan ~

  I stood for a minute, looking at the closed door down the hall, trying to decide what to do. Do I go and try to talk to her again? It didn’t work the first time. I ran my fingers through my hair. Women! I walked to the refrigerator, selected a bottle of beer, and sat back down at the table. I twisted off the top and took a long pull.

  Women had always confounded me. When I was in high school, I was tall and gangly with glasses and a bad complexion. Girls didn’t exactly go for that look. In college, I had filled out, got contacts, and my skin cleared up. But then I discovered writing, and most of the girls I met didn’t understand that I’d rather spend my weekend nights behind my typewriter than at a party with them.

  When my books started selling, especially after they started selling well, I had g
otten a fair amount of fan mail but wasn’t interested in dating a fan. I went on a few dates here and there, most were friends of friends of Logan’s. One of them, when she found out I was a horror writer, had actually shown up dressed like Elvira. Black wig, red nails, the whole thing. I think she might have even stuffed her bra. No thanks. Nothing really clicked though. I wanted someone who was not afraid to speak her mind, who didn’t care about Bennett Ford, the author, but Ryan Ford, the person.

  There was only one person that had really ever fit that description, and she was off-limits. I looked back at the door that was still closed and decided I’d just give her some space. I set the beer down, stretched my neck, and started typing.

  5

  ~ Lindsey ~

  Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, ding!

  What the hell was that noise? I sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to focus on the numbers of the small digital clock on the night table–8:30. I must have fallen asleep. I recognized the sound as the typewriter I’d seen in the kitchen, and the events from earlier that day came rushing back to me in a flood. Ryan really was here. And I had been a total bitch.

  Stopping in the bathroom, I ran a brush through my shoulder length hair and washed my face. I applied a thin layer of tinted moisturizer and just a touch of mascara. I had always favored a more natural look and wasn’t about to change now.

  I padded into the kitchen area in my stocking feet. I stopped and watched Ryan at the table. He wore blue jeans and a blue checked flannel shirt over a black t-shirt. His shoulders were broader than I remembered, and his short brown hair was disheveled, as if he’d been running his hands through it several times.