Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Note from the Publisher
Trademarks Acknowledgement
Part One
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
Part Two
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
About the Author
Also by Scarlet Blackwell
Reviews for Rescue Me
Reviews for Into the Light
Snowbound
Scarlet Blackwell
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Cover Artist: Reese Dante
Editor: Rie Langdon
Snowbound © 2011 Scarlet Blackwell
ISBN # 9781920501167
Attention Readers: This book uses US English.
All rights reserved.
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PUBLISHER
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Note from the Publisher
Dear Reader,
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Publisher
Silver Publishing
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Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Taser: TASER International, Inc.
Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Vortex, Inc.
The Cheshire Cat: Disney Enterprises, Inc.
PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE
The car was toasty warm. Winter tyres on the front, chains on the back, bumping steadily against flattened snow. The rhythmic clacking of the windscreen wipers started to have a numbing effect. Hayden Berry felt himself start to drift. He forced his eyes open, looking at the orange glow of the streetlights illuminating five-foot-high drifts of snow piled along the sides of the road.
He hadn't seen a sign in forever and was pretty sure he was lost in some hick town somewhere in South Dakota. This had been a bad idea. Why exactly was he driving across state in the middle of February? All he wanted was to find the border and head back home, but the snow flurries coming down were starting to make driving conditions hazardous. It was ten pm. His was the only car on the road. He was the only one not tucked up in bed. Perhaps he should find a motel and pull over before he ended up in a ditch.
A loud bang made him yell and curse in fright. He fought the wheel as he lost control of the car, careering into the centre of the road, trying his hardest to turn it into the skid. He braked and felt a crunch under his jabbing foot as the brakes locked, doing nothing to slow his momentum, but he got the car back over to the right side of the road. His vehicle kept going. It mounted the sidewalk and ploughed into a streetlight. Hayden was thrown forward, cracking his forehead on the wheel, then back, restrained by his seatbelt. He sat there stunned and groaning a moment in the snow-blanketed silence.
Gradually he recovered his senses. His head wasn't bleeding. It just had a lump but there was blood in his mouth; he must have bitten his tongue. The engine was still running. It gave him hope the car might still be drivable, at least to a motel, but what was the loud noise that had made him lose control in the first place?
He unfastened his seatbelt, zipped up his parka and pulled the hood up before he slid cautiously out of the car onto unsteady legs. The cold hit him in the face like he'd stepped into a freezer. The wind dashed stinging ice crystals against his skin. By the time he'd assessed the damage to the front—a dented hood, could have been worse—and walked around the back of the car, his face was numb.
He stood looking down in dismay. The left rear tyre was completely shredded. Oh fuck, now what? He glanced around. He was in the middle of nowhere. No houses, no stores, no lights of any kind save those shining over the lonely road. It might be miles to the nearest house. He would die of hypothermia before he got there.
He slid back into the car, shivering violently, his teeth chattering. The engine still circulated the heat and he held his frozen hands up to the blowers, grunting at the pain of defrosting. He tried not to let panic overwhelm him. He would call 911, it was simple. He reached into the back for the bag stored behind the passenger seat, scrabbling blindly in the front pocket before he located his cell. He flipped it open and stared down in disbelief as the screen remained dark. The battery had gone.
Great. Just fucking great. He swore, hurling the cell behind him. What an idiot he was. Crossing this sort of terrain with no contingency plans, without even charging his phone first. What sort of a prick was he?
He glanced at the temperature gauge next to the CD player. Minus thirteen. Just peachy.
He sat staring through the window into the darkness. He was going to have to walk. He couldn't sit here all night with the engine running and he couldn't stop it or he'd freeze to death. He had an extra sweater in his bag he could put on under his parka and hat, scarf and gloves on the back seat. He made no move to get ready. At that moment he would rather have stuck pins in his eyes than have gone out into that cruel weather once more.
Suddenly he saw a light in the distance. He strained his eyes, trying to work out if it was headlights and if they were getting closer. Yes and yes! He flung the door open, almost falling into the snow in his haste to get out. He pulled his right leg behind him. It had gone to sleep on him, and never worked well at the best of times.
Hayden stumbled into the centre of the road, waving his arms violently. The freezing air burning into his lungs caused him to cough.
The twin points of light came closer and then he saw the red and blue bars on t
op of the vehicle, not currently illuminated. Oh God, it was a cop. Hayden could have fallen to his knees in worship.
The cruiser slowed down. It drove past and as Hayden turned around, dumbstruck, thinking the guy had not seen him in the blizzard, it made a U-turn and pulled up behind his stricken car.
Oh God, oh thank you God.
He waited while the cop got out of the car, pulling a beanie hat low over his ears. He strode toward Hayden, tall, lean, confident on the snow, wearing a thick police parka and winter boots. In the glow of the streetlights, his eyes were pale, colourless, his jaw smooth and chiselled. Hayden would have said he was about twenty-five, the same age as him. Something about the cop made Hayden metaphorically sit up and take notice in a big way.
"Having some trouble here, sir?"
In the history of dumb questions, it was perhaps the dumbest Hayden had ever heard but he bit back the sarcastic reply he wanted to spew forth. This man was his saviour. He would do well to remember that. Let the cop say what he wanted. If he got Hayden somewhere safe and warm tonight, it didn't matter.
"Yeah, I…" He checked himself. His words were slurred because the cold had completely numbed his jaw. He didn't want the cop to think he'd been driving under the influence.
The cop glanced at the blown-out back wheel before he walked around the front of the car. "Not too bad," he said. "Okay, pop the trunk and I'll change the tyre for you."
Obviously he thought Hayden was some idiot who didn't know how to change a tyre and was just being polite about it. It wasn't quite so simple.
"I don't have one."
The cop regarded him poker-faced. "Excuse me?"
"I don't have a spare tyre."
"Oh, right. You do realise it's an offence not to carry a spare tyre in these parts?"
Hayden bristled. He didn't even know what county he was in. "Want to arrest me? Be my guest. At least I'll get a warm bed for the night."
The cop's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "I can do without the belligerence on a night like tonight, sir. I've only stopped to help, that's all, and I'm merely pointing out that if you hadn't disregarded the law, you wouldn't be in the predicament you're in now."
Hayden's face heated in humiliation. He hung his head. "Sorry. I'm a little frazzled."
"If you'll step closer, sir."
Hayden lifted his head. "What?"
"Step closer and breathe on me please, sir."
Hayden groaned inwardly. The breathalyser probably followed next and Hayden had drunk so much last night, he wasn't even confident he was under the limit. He moved up to the cop, a few inches shorter than him, blinking as snowflakes fell on his eyelashes. Standing on tip toe, he huffed into the cop's face.
The cop blinked. He didn't move back. "Chocolate," he said.
"Yeah."
For a moment their gazes met, held, and Hayden was deeply unsettled. Something in the pit of his stomach uncoiled, filling his freezing body with heat.
"All right, get in my car and warm yourself up."
Hayden ducked into the back seat of his car and retrieved his bag and cell before he locked the car pointlessly and made his way over to the cop car, limping, his right leg cramping.
He slid into the passenger seat and tossed his bag into the back as the cop climbed in beside him. Hayden pulled on his hat and gloves.
The cop closed the door and switched the heaters up to high. "Did you hurt yourself?"
"What? Oh no, that's an old injury. I've always got a limp. Plays up more in the cold."
The cop reached up and flicked on the overhead light. The tip of Hayden's nose burned as the heat swarmed over it. His lips stung. He turned his head to look at the cop and saw the man's eyes were golden-green, fringed with lush lashes. His lips were supple and pink.
"You've got a bump." The cop gestured to Hayden's forehead.
"Yeah. It's okay."
"What's your name?"
Hayden swallowed, tried out his numb jaw. "Hayden Berry."
"Okay, Hayden. I'm Deputy Sheriff Dylan Hubble. Where are you going to?"
"Wyoming. Rock Springs."
"Hmm. Well, I'll tell you now, every hotel in town's full for the annual Iceman Festival."
What? Ice man? Hell, Hayden was sure he could have competed in that himself if he'd stood outside much longer.
"So you can have a cell for the night, or my spare room I guess. I'll get a tow truck to come out in the morning."
Taken aback, Hayden stammered a little. "T-that's very kind of you."
"What, the cell?"
"No, your—"
"I'm kidding." Dylan grinned, showing teeth neat and white. He flicked off the light and pulled out around Hayden's car. "Okay then, Chez Hubble it is."
Hayden sat in silence as they drove down the lonely road, turning off after a couple of miles. I really would have frozen to death out there.
Dylan drove slowly down a long, winding road into the heart of a small town. Hayden watched shops and cafés go by, a couple of bars, a gas station. Then Dylan turned onto a dirt track and the car bumped over ruts and gouges. It had been recently ploughed but the falling snow was making short work of that.
Dylan pulled onto a driveway and shut off the engine. "Here we are." He got out and Hayden followed him, carrying his bag.
The deputy's house was a cottage, rather quaint with a white picket fence and small front yard. He didn't seem like the kind of man who would live in a house like this. Perhaps he lived with his grandma.
He opened the door and flicked on the hall light and then stood to one side taking his boots off. Hayden banged his feet on the step and entered, standing on the mat while he took his own boots off.
"Let me take your coat."
They stood close in the cramped hallway. Hayden pulled his gloves off to unzip his parka and his fingers were clumsy and uncoordinated.
"Come here." Dylan unzipped him and pulled the jacket off his shoulders. Their eyes met before Dylan turned away, hanging his coat up, pulling his hat, gloves and scarf off. His hair was short and a glossy, chestnut brown.
Hayden watched as Dylan slid the thick snowpants down long, strong legs. He couldn't help but assess the bulge revealed in the tight regulation uniform pants below. The deputy sheriff was all man, and a fine figure of one at that. That same uncoiling of heat blazed through Hayden's belly. His thoughts disturbed him.
Dylan took the coat, hat, and gloves from his hand and led the way through to the living room where he crouched to light the electric fire. "Sit here and get warm. I'm just going to get changed."
Hayden silently wished the cop would stay in uniform. He knelt down, huddling close to the growing heat. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, followed by walking overhead of him, then the banging of a closet door. He glanced around. No photos, no sign of another half or a grandma.
Dylan reappeared in jeans, which continued to advertise his bulge just right, and a sweater. Even without the bulky parka, his shoulders and chest were broad and muscular. "Want some tea?" he asked.
"Sure."
"How?"
"Milk, no sugar."
"Coming up." Dylan disappeared into the kitchen and clattered about. "So, Rock Springs. You're a long way from home, boy."
Something about the use of the word boy rankled Hayden. He was sure he was the same age as the deputy, even if his fresh-faced looks put him as younger. "Yeah," he muttered. "I don't even know where I am."
"You're in Blackstone, at the ass-end of South Dakota, population five hundred and fifteen."
"Jesus."
"Yeah, that's most people's reaction."
Hayden stood up to save from calling through the door. He went into the kitchen, hovering by the table as he watched Dylan making tea.
"So what are you doing here?" The cop asked.
"I went to a wedding reception in Minneapolis. Got on I-90 to come back through South Dakota to Wyoming. There was an accident at Spearfish so I got off the highway to cross the border."
&nbs
p; "And went in the opposite direction toward Montana. You'd have been better taking I-35 into Iowa and coming back across Nebraska on I-80."
Smart ass. Hayden said nothing.
Dylan brought two mugs to the table and motioned to Hayden to sit. "I can't promise we won't be snowed in by morning. You might be looking at an enforced stay in our little town." Dylan picked up his mug and took a sip. Hayden glanced at his left hand. No wedding ring.
"I hope not. I have to be back at work on Monday."
"What do you do?"
"I'm a dentist."
Dylan laughed a little. "I figured you had to be. You have great teeth."
Hayden blushed unaccountably. The cop's were fabulous too. He'd just love to open his mouth and have a good look inside at his molars. He wondered how many fillings Dylan had and if he'd ever worn braces. This line of thought was slightly weird and he knew it. The cop's eyes were golden in the glow of the kitchen lights. His face was pale and very closely shaved. He was perhaps the most stunning man Hayden had ever seen in his life and Hayden didn't tend to look at men. At least not that he would ever admit. But if Dylan walked down the street in Rock Springs, Hayden guessed he might have fallen over himself to get a closer look. He would have at least offered him a free dental check-up.
"So, I can give you a check-up in exchange for the bed," he joked, except not really.
Dylan grinned. "I'm good, thanks. I just had one last month. See? No fillings." He opened his mouth wide. Hayden nearly shuddered in delight at the two perfect sets of back teeth presented for inspection. Truly Dylan was as beautiful inside as he was outside. Every tooth was present and correct, neatly lined up in place, plaque and tartar free, no fillings, wisdoms erupted and fully formed. Marvellous. This man clearly didn't put junk in his mouth or he was very lucky.
"Anyway, what were you doing eating chocolate in your car? Are dentists supposed to eat chocolate?"
Hayden smiled wryly. "No. They're not supposed to consume the vast quantities of wine I consumed over the weekend either."
Dylan smirked. "Everyone's allowed a treat." He got up. "Let me get dinner started. Is mushroom risotto okay for you?"
Snowbound Page 1
