by Gail Sattler
Copyright
ISBN 1-58660-070-2
© 2000 by Barbour Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Truly Yours, PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.
All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover illustration by Jocelyn Bouchard.
One
Another man might curse at the building snowstorm. Dennis knew little Raymond couldn’t understand the nasty words. But God would.
Dennis turned off the radio in order to concentrate on his driving. He didn’t need a weatherman to tell him how hard it was snowing. He enjoyed the white Christmas, since it snowed so seldom back home, but this was whiter than need be. Any other time, with Raymond asleep in his car seat, Dennis would have taken this opportunity to think. Today, he had all he could handle just keeping the car on the road.
Another harsh gust of wind buffeted the car. Sections of the mountain highway had iced over with snow covering most of the pavement. Visibility lowered with each passing mile, and the snowdrifts grew larger.
The car slid on an icy patch beneath the blowing snow. Dennis gripped the wheel tighter and slowed his speed. He had no idea where the nearest motel might be, but he planned to stop at the next one he saw. Until then, he had no choice but to keep going. He knew he shouldn’t drive under these conditions, especially since he wasn’t used to mountain driving at the best of times, but he hadn’t paid any attention to the worsening weather until it was too late. Now, his only thoughts centered on getting home, although his life would never be the same again.
Up ahead and on a secondary road to his right, an old pickup approached the highway at a speed Dennis thought much too fast for the blustery conditions. Rather than slowing at the intersection, the pickup began to swerve, then slide.
Instinctively, Dennis stomped on the brake. Instead of stopping, the car fishtailed on the slippery road, turned clockwise, skidded sideways for a short distance, then continued to spin until he was careening backward toward the edge of the mountain road.
“Lord God, help me,” he prayed through clenched teeth as he fought with the steering wheel, to no avail. He frantically pumped the brake, but nothing slowed the car’s trajectory as it spun toward the edge of the cliff.
His heart pounded as the back end of the car reached the edge of the mountainside and crashed through the wooden guardrail, slowing him only slightly. As if in slow motion, the back end went down, sending the nose of the car into the air, akin to the sinking of the Titanic. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for either a miracle or that death would come quickly.
“I’m sorry, Raymond,” he said aloud as the nose of the car tipped higher and the car began to slide down. Dennis held his breath, preparing himself for the worst. Suddenly, the rear of the vehicle slammed into something solid, bringing the car to a crunching halt. In that same instant, the engine died. A sickening silence hung in the air for a brief second before Raymond let out a terrified howl.
Dennis felt as if a fist had slammed into his gut. His heart thudded in his chest. The car shifted slightly, then settled midway with the undercarriage resting on the edge of the cliff, the front tires spinning above the ground. A mass of snow fell onto the car from above, landing with a muffled thump on the hood. The car shuddered once. Then all was silent—except for Raymond’s crying.
In a rush of air, Dennis released his breath. With trembling fingers, he unbuckled the straps of the infant seat and held Raymond tightly with unsteady arms. Pressing Raymond’s tiny head against his chest, Dennis closed his eyes in a prayer of thanksgiving for their spared lives and absence of injury.
He opened his eyes when Raymond’s cries subsided to ragged hiccuping. The pickup truck was nowhere to be seen, the driver evidently oblivious to the destruction he had caused.
Very gently, he stroked the baby’s back. “There, there,” he mumbled. “The only thing that’s hurt is the car.” With more patting, the whimpering eventually stopped. Slowly, he lowered Raymond back into the car seat, buckled him up again, stuck a pacifier in his mouth, and cautiously climbed out of the car to survey the damage.
The entire back end was completely squashed and molded around a huge tree all the way up to the now-bent rear axle. Fortunately he didn’t smell gas. The odd angle of the car left the front tires hanging off the ground by about a foot and a half, accenting his predicament.
His stomach churned when he looked down the mountainside, to where he had almost gone. The car rested on the only tree in the area large enough to hold the vehicle’s weight. Besides that one large tree, nothing would have stopped their plunge to certain death. Dennis closed his eyes, again praising God that both he and Raymond survived unscathed.
Snow continued to fall around him, drifting in the wind and building a layer of white against the car as if something so beautiful could hide the accident’s carnage.
Dennis looked back to the road, only five feet away. The tire tracks leading to the side of the mountain were already covered. As the shock subsided, reality sank in. He was stranded. With a one-month-old baby. In a snowstorm. In the middle of nowhere.
Dennis shivered as snow melted around his ankles and the cold seeped into his sneakers. He hugged himself and slapped his upper arms, then pulled the collar of his leather jacket higher. At home in Vancouver, the weather seldom dipped below freezing, so he was unprepared for the cold. When he got the call to rush to Hinton, buying a winter coat hadn’t entered his mind. He had just gone.
He studied the car as he blew warm breath into his hands and rubbed them together. Even if the car was driveable, there was no way he could get it back onto the road. Nevertheless, standing outside until the snow covered him, too, wasn’t going to get them out of this predicament either.
He scrambled back into the car, shutting the door quickly. If he couldn’t drive it, he hoped to at least run the engine to provide some heat. The motor chugged and sputtered when he turned the key, but it wouldn’t catch. After a few minutes, he gave up, rested his elbows on top of the steering wheel, and buried his face in his hands. He had a few blankets in the trunk, but he couldn’t open it without a crowbar. And the crowbar was also in the trunk, along with his emergency roadside kit.
He spread the map over the steering wheel and calculated a distance of approximately twenty-five miles to the nearest town. He tried to recall if he had passed a house or any building recently, but couldn’t remember. His total concentration had been on the road as he struggled to drive through the worsening storm. He hadn’t bothered to pay attention to the scenery.
He stared absently out the car window. If the road was impassable, someone would have to get him by air. He wasn’t sure it was possible, but there was one way to find out. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone and dialed, but couldn’t get a signal.
A long sigh escaped at the thought of going back into the freezing snow, but he had no choice. If he held the phone just right, he may be able to pick up a signal. Dennis clambered outside and, holding the phone in the air for a better chance at a signal, hit the send button again. The phone looked like it was connecting, but when he lowered it to his ear, it lost the signal.
Dennis shivered as he looked around. Maybe if he got more height. . . He surveyed the roof of the car and the tree stump he had hit.
He chose the tree stump. Clutching the leather phone case in his teeth, he struggled for a toehold through the ice and snow, and balanced as best he could on his way up.
T
he wind was worse with the added height. His hands shook as he dialed, and again he held the phone above his head, praying for that elusive signal to human contact and rescue.
Without warning, a strong gust of wind whipped from the north. Already in a precarious position, his slight movement to counteract the force of the wind compromised his footing. He flailed his arms but couldn’t regain his balance. Again, Dennis felt like everything was moving in slow motion. As he fell backward, he watched the phone arc gracefully in the air and hit a tree. As Dennis hit the ground, the phone tumbled down the mountainside and into the snow somewhere far below.
Dennis lay on his back in the soft, cold snow, unable to believe what had just happened.
The snow continued to fall on top of him, into his face and open mouth. What little heat was left in his body caused the snow on his neck to melt, as well as some that had gone up the back of his jacket.
Rather than freeze to death on the ground, Dennis scrambled back into the car, where he watched the blustering wind and drifting snow outside.
If he hadn’t considered himself fully stranded before, he surely was now. Alone, he might have walked—however foolish. But, he couldn’t take Raymond into a blizzard, despite the infant’s warm layers of blankets and clothes. At least the car would protect them from hypothermia until someone found them. If someone found them.
With the blizzard in progress and it being a mere three days before Christmas, except for the idiot in the pickup truck, most people were home preparing for the holiday or already with their loved ones.
If they didn’t freeze first, Dennis wondered how long it would be before they starved to death. As an adult, he could go for weeks before he died, but babies couldn’t. For now, cold formula was better than no formula, but he couldn’t remember how much he had in the diaper bag. A case was in the trunk, along with everything else, save one suitcase that hadn’t fit, which he now considered a blessing in disguise. The suitcase contained clothing he could use for extra warmth. He didn’t want to think about how cold it would get overnight. Already, the windows were fogging.
Dennis grasped the steering wheel with both hands and let his head drop as he slumped forward, wondering if by Christmas Day they’d both be dead. He thanked God for the miracle of not going over the cliff. Now he prayed for another miracle—to stay alive until someone found them.
Hours passed with no vehicle in sight. Inside the car, the temperature was cold enough for Dennis to see his breath. To his left, the blowing snow had drifted up as high as the lower portion of the window. To his right, ice had formed on the portion of the window not covered by snow. Dennis wrapped Raymond as best he could, using the clothing out of his suitcase. Nevertheless, within hours it would be dark and the temperature would plummet. The phrase from the old “Batman” shows drifted through his mind that the worst was yet to come.
He wondered how long it would be before the snow covered the car, which would insulate them somewhat from the storm. However, if on the remote chance a car came by, they wouldn’t be seen. He didn’t want to lose what little heat his body had produced inside the confines of the car, but he couldn’t let the car become covered.
Dennis shivered just thinking about going outside. His feet were numb from being wet inside his sneakers, and he didn’t want to think about standing in the snow again. After he cleared some snow, he wondered if he might be warmer by removing his sneakers and socks, and wrapping his freezing feet in dry clothing from the suitcase.
As he pushed the door open and leaned out, the movement caused a lump of snow to shift on the roof of the car and land on his head. Instead of brushing it off, Dennis froze, straining to listen. Unless his imagination was playing tricks on him, in the distance, he heard the drone of another car.
Not caring about this snow on his head, he jogged through the knee-deep snow, clambered up onto the road into the middle of the snow-covered highway and waved his arms, leaving the driver no choice but to stop or run him over.
The car slowed, then came to a halt. He wrapped his arms around himself in a futile attempt to warm up, and waited.
A woman exited the car. Her knee-length wool coat and heavy black boots made him wonder if the seventh commandment included not coveting thy neighbor’s winter outerwear.
The scarf wrapped around the large collar of her dark-blue coat was pulled up so to cover most of the lower half of her face. Between the fluffy scarf, the hat, the large collar, and the distance between them, all Dennis could see of her face was her eyes.
At that moment, they were the eyes of an angel. He paused to thank God for sending this stranger, and then prayed that she would help him.
❧
Adelle came within ten feet of the man in the middle of the road. She was about to ask how he got there, when out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a car with its front end sticking up in the air and the back end wrapped around a tree.
She turned to the man. “Are you okay? Are there any injuries?”
The man shivered. “I’m cold, but otherwise unharmed. Thanks for asking. Most of all, thanks for stopping.”
She could only guess how cold he was. His short leather jacket provided little protection from the wind and snow and he had no hat or gloves. She couldn’t see his feet because the snow was almost to his knees, but judging from the way he was underdressed for such conditions, she doubted he wore boots, either.
The wind blew his dark brown hair up in the air, flinging it helter-skelter onto his forehead and into his eyes. His nose was red and his teeth were chattering.
“Where were you going?”
He hunched his shoulders and blew into his reddened hands, then rubbed them together. “I was headed for Vancouver. But now I think my only choice is the nearest motel, which, I imagine, is in the next town.”
Adelle shook her head. “I’ve just come from there and they’ve closed the highway. I was the last one they let by, and that was only because I had chains. I’m on my way to my family’s cabin, in fact, it’s not far up that road.” She pointed to the nearby road. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind a guest until the storm clears.”
“If they wouldn’t mind, I’d really appreciate that. Thank you.”
Adelle smiled. “No problem. After all, it’s Christmas.”
This year, her parents were spending Christmas with her brother and his family in California, so it would just be her, Aunt Min and Uncle Bob, Rachel, and now, this sad, stranded stranger.
Many local businesses were already shutting down for the holiday, since it was only three days before Christmas. She doubted he would find anyone willing to tow his car anytime soon, especially in blizzard conditions.
“Is there anything you need out of your car?”
Without a word, he turned and ran to his car, slipping and sliding all the way. First he slung something over his shoulder, then pulled out an infant car seat with a baby in it.
Adelle gasped. Now she understood why God had allowed her to be delayed on her trip to the cabin.
She had left early that morning, but on her way out the door, the heel of her boot had snapped off. Since she planned to stay with her aunt and uncle for two weeks at the mountain cabin, she couldn’t be without her boots for that long in the snowy wilderness. So, she had made a stop at the mall to get it fixed. She underestimated the amount of people who would be shopping so close to Christmas and her task had taken much longer than expected, especially since she’d run into someone she knew who wanted to see her baby. Once she finally managed to leave the mall, she had been surprised to see the snow falling, and even more surprised as it worsened into blizzard conditions as she continued.
By the time the roads were so bad that she should have turned back, she was closer to the cabin than home, so she decided to forge ahead. Besides, if she returned home, she and Rachel would be spending her baby’s first Christmas alone, and that was too depressing. She had convinced the police officer at the roadblock, who fortunately knew Aunt Min and Uncle Bo
b, to help her put the chains on and let her pass.
She slogged through the snow to where the land began to drop and accepted the baby-laden car seat. As she did, the stranger stuffed a suitcase full of various articles of clothing that were strewn about the front seat of his car. Soon the man followed behind her with a diaper bag and the bulging suitcase.
His hands were shaking so violently from the cold that Adelle buckled the infant car seat into place for him, after unwrapping several men’s shirts from around the baby. She stood back while he tossed everything else on the floor of the back seat.
“Is that everything?” she asked.
He slapped his arms, blew into his hands, then wrapped his arms around himself. “Unfortunately, yes.”
She returned to the driver’s seat. He pushed aside the items that had been tossed in her back seat and climbed in next to his baby. Soon, they were on their way.
Even above the sound of the motor, Adelle heard his teeth chattering. Although she was already too hot in her wool coat, she flipped the heater on full blast for him. Fortunately, the heat didn’t bother little Rachel, who had already drifted back to sleep.
Adelle smiled. Not having to worry about her baby fussing would make driving in blizzard conditions less of a strain.
“I don’t know how to thank you. You’ve probably saved our lives. My name is Dennis Bancroft, and this is Raymond.”
“My name is Adelle Wilson, and this is Rachel. We’re on our way to my aunt Min’s and uncle Bob’s cabin, but I guess I already told you that.”
She looked in her rearview mirror to see him nod his head. His teeth had stopped chattering, but he was still shivering violently, so she didn’t change the setting on the heater. She estimated that they would be at the cabin in less than an hour, where a roaring fire and Aunt Min’s special holiday hot cocoa would be waiting for them.
❧
Dennis shivered silently in his seat, clenching his jaw so that his saving angel couldn’t tell his teeth were still chattering. When the lump of snow had fallen on top of him, some had fallen down the back of his neck. From his earlier fiasco losing his cell phone, more snow had gone up the back of his jacket and down the back of his pants and melted. His back was wet, his underwear was wet, his eyes were still watering from being blasted by the frigid wind, and he couldn’t feel his toes. Again, he praised God for sending this woman his way. He knew that, for months, he would be having nightmares about what nearly happened.
