Stranded on Vail Mountain

by Desiree L. Scott

The lights got brighter as the harsh wind pushed at her back, seeping through the layers of wool she had on. Just as she made it to the bottom step, the door swung open, almost knocking her back into the snow.

  “What the…” Her voice lost in the wind, she stared up at Stephen's furious face as he glared down at her.

  “Are you insane?” he shouted, his words muffled by his scarf. He was bundled up tightly as if he were going outside. “This fucking decision got you into this mess the first time!”

  He was coming after me, Joan realized, stunned.

  Before she could respond, he reached down with one gloved hand and grabbed her by the arm, hauling her inside, slamming the door behind them. Snow fell at her feet, and she started to shiver as she stared over at him.

  He scowled at her. “Do you realize you could have gotten lost? Again? Frozen to death? Or were you thinking at all?”

  Her eyes widened at his words and tone and then narrowed. She had already realized the stupidity of her decision. She hadn’t needed it pointed out to her or talked to like she was a child.

  She opened her mouth to blast him, but her eyes shifted to the door leading into the lobby, and she stopped, her mouth closing with a snap.

  The two women stared at each other, mixed emotions flashing through their eyes.

  “Joan,” Stacy whispered, her eyes begging for understanding, for something Joan didn’t even want to consider. “Please…”

  Joan didn’t bother to stick around. Her plan for a blizzard walk was out, so she pushed through the door, not caring if she knocked over Stacy in the process.

  Stacy grabbed her arm, stopping her.

  “Joan, please!” she begged, her slender fingers tight as a tear fell from her blue eyes.

  Joan wasn’t moved by the sight. In fact, it just pissed her off more.

  “Just listen to me. Please! I'm so sorry! I”

  Her fists clenched by her side, it took everything in her not to slap the other woman. “Let go.”

  Two words. That was all it took as Stacy slowly released her hold. Stephen remained by the door, silent, watching through narrowed eyes.

  Without another word to either of them, Joan returned to her room, her emotions more conflicted now than they were before. Quickly stripping, she jumped in the hot shower and leaned against the tiled wall as the water pounded against her back.

  Her head bowed, tears fell. Her shoulders shook as she cried. The water soon turned cold, and she shut it off, grabbing a fluffy towel as she stepped out.

  Wrapping it around her, she returned to the bedroom and slipped into her pajamas. It was still too early to retire for the night, but she couldn’t face the reality any more. She hated not being in control, and she wasn’t in control of anything beyond staying trapped in one room.

  As she lay on the soft bed, she thought of Michael, willingly, for the first time since she had fallen on his frozen body on the mountains. She remembered his smile, his sparkling blue eyes, his contagious laugh. Four years hadn’t been long when you thought about it, and yet they had known each other since they were teenagers.

  Stacy, too, she thought. The two women had met when they were in first grade, even before Michael had come along.

  As she thought of her best friend, her chest hurt, and her eyes burned. Her throat tight, she was shocked to discover the pain of that betrayal was actually worse than the dissolution of her marriage, of the affair itself.

  Joan sat up, shocked as she thought of the last four years, of what her marriage had become. True, Stacy had betrayed her, but had the marriage failed before she had made that move? The only way to know that was to talk to the other woman.

  She flopped back down on her back, staring up at the white ceiling as she thought of the implication of her marriage having been over years ago, of the blinders she had worn. The resort had been a last ditch effort to save her marriage, but a person could only save something they believed was worth saving. And it took all parties involved to try.

  The pain of her husband’s death seemed to lessen at the realization, and she sighed, closing her eyes. It still hurt, but not as a love lost. It hurt that she had lost her friend. They had been friends first, and Joan liked to think they would have remained so after a divorce, but considering the betrayal of the two, she wasn’t even sure of that.

  Chapter 9

  Stephen was still pissed at Joan. Making his rounds between the guests, he had been on his way to the back office when he had spied the door close and the melting snow on the door mat. At the time, he hadn’t realized who the idiot was who went outside. Quickly suiting up had taken precious time, and he had been worried they were walking farther away from the building. Once away from the lights, the fatal mistake of getting lost rose to a higher, frightening degree, and he had rushed to open the door and stop the idiot. Once he had realized it was Joan, he had seen red and wanted to strangle the woman!

  He closed the door of the office behind him, and for once it was empty, which gave him plenty of time to cool down. Rob was probably talking to the guests, keeping them from killing each other. Stephen had been putting out one argument after another between the two couples for the last two days. He figured it was Rob’s turn now. Just because he was the boss didn’t mean he couldn’t babysit, too. The four had come to the resort as a group, yet they were bickering like five year olds. Stephen couldn’t understand the maturity of the men versus women thing, whether it was jealousy or something more, but he was tempted to quit after this fiasco of a blizzard. He walked over to the desk and sat down in Rob’s chair just as the thought crossed his mind.

  Yeah, right. He scoffed. He had been a mountain ranger for so long; he wouldn’t know what to do with a normal job.

  Probably be bored shitless.

  Just then the lights flickered.

  Once.

  Twice.

  It went dark just as he heard a few high pitched screams from the other end of the building. Stephen let his head fall on the surface of the desk in front of him and closed his eyes, trying to breathe in the patience of a saint.

  Dear God, help me deal with them.

  He wasn’t worried about the lack of power. The power generators would…

  Just then, the lights flickered and came back on, the power generators kicking on.

  Lifting his head with a weary sigh, he stood up just as the door opened, and Rob stood in the doorway, a dark scowl on his lean face as he glared at him.

  “I’m going to throw them all out in the damn blizzard,” Rob growled, stalking into the office to stand a few feet from him.

  Stephen raised an eyebrow.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “YOU go deal with them. I’m going to bed!” With that, he turned and disappeared around the corner, leaving Stephen staring after him with an amused grin on his face.

  Until he realized the significance of his boss’s parting shot.

  Well, fuck…

  Muttering beneath his breath, he headed for the arguing coming from the lobby, almost praying they would kill each other before he got there. It would save him the hassle and give him some peace instead of constant drama. Just as he made it to the door, he saw Joan enter from the opposite side, her hair brushed and eyes flashing as she stared at the group. Thankfully, Stacy wasn't in attendance. He enjoyed seeing Joan out of the room for once.

  And not outside, he thought, still ticked about that.

  “So, I'm just curious. What exactly are you guys arguing about?” Joan asked calmly.

  Stephen leaned back against the wall to watch.

  “Excuse me?” Anna Burner demanded, her arguing cut short. Standing between her husband and the fire, her black hair was piled on her head, her makeup flawless. Her low cut, red blouse left nothing to the imagination, and her tight black jeans looked painted on. Red heels to match her blouse stood out as she tapped one foot to the tile, glaring over at Joan.

  “You heard me,” Joan said calmly. “What are you arguing about that is so impo
rtant that you are driving everyone else here insane?”

  Gasps went up, and the other woman, Laura, glared at her as well, her eyes narrowed. The two women suddenly saw someone else they could bicker with, and they formed a united front, the flickers of the fire highlighting their sharp cheekbones and pale complexions. Their shoulders touching as they stood side by side, their husbands stood off to the side watching silently.

  “Look, this ridiculous arguing is not important. There are worse things that could’ve happened and have to other people. So instead of complaining, why don’t you be thankful you’re warm, have food, and a place to stay while we wait out the blizzard?”

  Laura actually flushed and lowered her eyes, signaling a small conscience. Anna, on the other hand, rolled her eyes.

  Stephen could see a catfight about to breakout and jumped in before Anna, striding towards the center of the room and blocking her from attacking. Joan looked on calmly, her arms folded across her chest.

  “Dinner is ready if you guys are hungry,” Stephen interrupted, glaring at them all.

  Grumbling and muttering under their breath, the four headed towards the kitchen. It was late for dinner, around seven, but considering everything, they weren't on a specific time frame.

  He looked over at Joan. “Hungry?”

  She shook her head no. “Rob said something about a library?”

  He nodded towards a door to the right, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Through there. Second door on the right.”

  Nodding, she left the room, leaving Stephen to stare after her. He wanted to talk to her, wanted to get to know her better, but she was giving the vibe of ‘stay away’ loud and clear. Considering the circumstances, he couldn't really blame her, but it didn't make it any easier to stand back and wait. He knew she had felt something in that cabin. It was there in her eyes and yet...

  Torn, Stephen sighed and headed towards the group before they killed each other.

  That may not be a bad thing.

  Joan found the library without a problem and browsed the rows of books, skimming through the spines of each. She had to get her mind off of everything: Michael, Stacy, Stephen, the blizzard. It was going to drive her insane, so she had come down to hunt for the library when she had heard the arguing in the lobby and had had enough. It was all she had heard for the past two days. She knew everyone was going crazy cooped up, but it was no excuse to resort to that of a child’s tantrum.

  She grabbed a book at random, anything to distract her, and turned.

  Freezing, she stared at Stacy, her chest tight. She hadn't heard her enter the room or the door close behind her, but there she stood, her hands fisted in front of her, tears in her eyes.

  “What do you want, Stace?” The nickname came out of nowhere, and her chest tightened even more, the pain of the past week burning her eyes. Regardless of their problems and her recent insight into the true state of their marriage, Stacy had still been her best friend. If she couldn't trust their relationship, what could she trust? And who?

  “Please, just five minutes. Please, Jo.”

  Joan wanted to leave, to tell her to go fuck herself and lock herself in the bedroom until the storm passed and she could leave.

  Instead, her mouth betrayed her, shocking her with the words that left her lips.

  “Fine. Five minutes. Starting now.”

  Stacy approached from the closed door, and Joan took a step back, shaking her head.

  “Stay there, Stace. Say what you want, and then leave me alone.”

  Watching as Stacy took a deep breath, Joan waited, wondering what the other woman would say to justify her actions. She still couldn't believe she was giving her a chance to defend herself. She was sure there was nothing she could say that would change anything.

  “I wasn’t going to do this. I was going to let you hate me, let you believe what you wanted, but…”

  Joan stilled.

  “I have cancer, Jo.”

  Shock held her silent as she stared at her. Finally, she croaked out a word. “What?”

  Stacy, tears in her eyes, nodded. “Stage four. I don't have long. I know it’s not an excuse, but I…” She paused, her throat working as she swallowed down the foul words. “It doesn't change anything. Not my actions or betrayal, and I'm so sorry, but I did love him,” she whispered, her words barely loud enough for Joan to hear. “I had felt so alone, and you were so busy, and I didn’t want to bring you down, hurt your career. Michael... Michael was... he was there, Jo. I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have let it go that far, but I didn’t have anywhere else to turn, and I just wanted to feel alive, you know? Before I died. I’m so sorry.”

  Heart pounding, Joan felt her feet move as she stopped just a few feet from her, her eyes on Stacy’s pale face. She couldn't find any words, none that spoke of her forgiveness or shared pain, but they were there.

  Joan stared at her best friend, thinking of all they’ve been through together. Shared so many secrets, so many of life’s ups and downs.

  “I was there, Stacy. I would have dropped everything for”

  “I know! That’s why I didn’t tell you. I even went out of town so you wouldn’t find out.”

  Joan remembered those three months. In fact…

  “Michael went out of town then, too,” she whispered as everything clicked into place. “But I hadn’t thought…”

  Stacy nodded, her eyes red. “He came to see me in the hospital. And stayed with me.”

  “When?”

  “Two months ago,” she whispered. “I just got back into town last week. And so did Michael from his so-called business trip.” The last was said on a choked sob.

  Joan could see the pain, the guilt in her friend’s eyes and felt her heart catch. This had been more than about her, more than sex, affairs, or even about Michael. This had to do with connecting to an emotion before death, and whatever hate, whatever pain and betrayal Joan had felt left her as her best friend cried in front of her.

  She didn't want to talk about anything else, not when she was about to lose her best friend because frankly, if she had been honest with herself all along, she would have seen they were headed for divorce. In fact, he had been trying to talk to her for months, but she hadn't listened. She had been too busy and unwilling to admit it was over.

  But Michael had known.

  “Chemo?”

  Stacy shook her head. “I only have a ten percent chance of surviving with Chemo. It's too aggressive, and I don't want to be sick in the last six months I have. I just want my best friend… Please…hate me later. I know I'm selfish, Jo. I'm so sorry. I need you.”

  With that, the flood gates burst open again, and Stacy sobbed, her head bowed as her shoulders shook.

  Tears streaming down her own face, Joan took that last step and pulled her best friend into her arms.

  Oh my god. Why hadn't I realized that something was wrong? Had I been so wrapped up in my own little world that I was blind?

  She held her best friend, both crying at the unfairness of life, at the pain of what the future held.

  Stephen moved away from the closed door as the sobbing continued, letting them have some privacy. He had wanted to talk to Joan and had returned to the library, but overhearing the conversation between the two women had brought something else home to him.

  Joan was in no position to start anything with him, not with everything going on, and that disappointment was stronger than he had anticipated.

  Hearing the rude voices coming from the lobby, he scowled, not in the mood to handle the other guests. Rob had already retired for the night, escaping to his own room and leaving everyone to fend for themselves. Stephen couldn’t blame him. They didn't get paid to babysit.

  He made it to his room and sighed as he sat on the bed. Staring into space, he thought of everything that had happened: the mountain, cabin, the blizzard raging outside. He glanced over at his window spying the white out snow still coming down in waves. At this rate, they were going to
be stranded for a few weeks unless they could fly the guests off the mountain. That was still a possibility and something they would probably have to do once the snow stopped. He would talk to Rob about it in the morning.

  He quickly got undressed and lay down, folding his arms beneath his head as he looked up at the ceiling. Sleep was the furthest from his mind, so he just lay there, lost in the thought, thinking about Joan.

  After putting Stacy to bed, Joan headed toward her room at the top of the stairs, her feet dragging as exhaustion pulled at her hard. Realizing she had forgiven Stacy had lifted a weight off of her, but that weight was replaced with the pain of knowing she was still losing her, but this time, in death. That decision was taken out of her hands. Life was too short. There were no guarantees, and Stacy had lost that bet.

  Just as that thought flashed through her mind, she passed Stephen’s door and stopped, staring at the thick panel. Hesitating, she didn't know what she was planning to do until she watched her hand rise, connecting with the wood in a soft knock.

  In seconds, it was opened, and they stared at each other.

  They didn't speak. Words weren't necessary as Stephen pulled her into his arms. Their lips met before the door was even closed with a soft click.

  The next morning, Joan woke up to a cloudless sky, the brilliant sun slicing through the blinds. She stared out the window, almost afraid to believe it had stopped, but the proof was right in front of her.

  The body shifted beside her, and she looked over at Stephen’s sleeping form. Her eyes softened. The night before had been amazing, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to try to sneak out before he woke up.

  What do they say about best laid plans going to shit? Yeah, that wasn't how the saying went exactly, but it was accurate as she sat up and withdrew one leg from the bed. She tried to stand up just as his arm shot out, wrapping it around her waist and dragging her back against his chest causing her to squeal and then chuckle.

  “Where do you think you're going?” he growled into her neck, squeezing her waist.