“He just will,” Mollie answered again. “He flies in snow all the time. Doesn’t he?” She had addressed the question directly to Nick, her tone insistent. He saw she sat staring at him, too. Testing him, maybe. Putting him in the hot seat.
He shot another glance at Lyssa. As a civilian now, he didn’t know what she’d want him to say. But she remained focused on the road. He was on his own. He looked back at the kids and shrugged. “Isn’t that what Santa’s sleigh and reindeer are for, getting him through the snow?”
“See, Tommy, I told you,” Mollie said triumphantly.
The two kids began a whispered argument that continued for a minute or two. Then came a long, tense silence, broken only by the shushing sound of the brittle snow now pelting the car.
Lyssa inched down the mountainside. At last, they neared the intersection where the lane from Michael’s lodge met the main road. Even at the snail’s pace Lyssa was traveling, as she started into the turn, the car began to fishtail then slide sideways.
Nick braced his good foot on the floorboard. He looked back to make sure all three kids still had their seat belts on—Lyssa wouldn’t put the car into gear earlier until she’d confirmed they had clicked them into place. Then he risked placing his hand on her shoulder. She didn’t react, and he hadn’t expected her to, but he hoped his touch helped bring her a measure of support. He had to admit the action made him feel better.
But it didn’t do anything to solve their dilemma.
With the car having almost no traction at all, Lyssa didn’t stand much of a chance. They’d be lucky if she didn’t encounter any unexpected curves. They’d be even luckier if she could keep the vehicle on the road until they got off the mountain.
Now, she worked the wheel like a professional racecar driver. He could feel the tension in her arm as she eased out of the skid, doing a masterful job of getting the car nearly lined up again on the roadway.
Then disaster hit.
Or, more accurately put, they hit disaster.
She had been driving so cautiously, things seemed to happen in slow motion. The headlights could barely penetrate the swirling snow, and another blast of wind made the road in front of them disappear entirely. It also shoved the car along the icy surface. The vehicle slid into an immovable object, bounced them all against their seat belts, slewed sideways, and finally came to a complete stop with its rear wheels off the road.
In the back seat, Tommy screeched. Not in excitement this time, Nick would bet.
Lyssa gasped. “Are you all okay?” Trapped by her seat belt, she struggled to turn around to check on the kids.
To Nick’s relief, their affirmations came quickly.
“And you, Nick?” she asked.
“I’m fine, thanks to your driving skills.” He squeezed her shoulder.
“Well, let’s see if those skills can get us out of here,” she said lightly, probably for the kids’ sake.
But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t get the rear wheels to inch, angle, or crawl up and over the edge of the roadway. He could see the frustration in her face. When he touched her arm and she looked his way, he couldn’t miss the despair in her eyes. He gave her a smile he hoped she would find reassuring. “All right, now we move on to plan B.”
“What’s plan B?” Mollie asked.
“We get out and go see what’s blocking the road.”
They couldn’t tell anything from inside the car. In the short time since they had stopped moving, a layer of white had covered the windows. Lyssa tried the wipers, which left only frozen smears on the windshield.
Brent was the first one to exit the car. Nick had made it halfway through his door when the kid returned, brushing snow from his hair and shoulders.
“It’s a tree!” For the first time since Nick had met him, the teenager’s voice shifted out of neutral. “It’s blocking the whole road. No way we’re getting out of here!”
Nick pulled himself upright, standing on his good foot, and looked across the car’s roof at Lyssa. Her already fair skin had turned a shade whiter.
“I wanna see!” Tommy yelled, scrambling out of the back seat.
Mollie followed on his heels. “Me, too.”
“Stay right here for a minute,” Lyssa ordered.
She came around the rear of the car to Nick’s side. “This couldn’t have happened too long ago,” she said, sounding bewildered. “We weren’t that far behind all the others.”
“Far enough. Our bad luck,” he muttered, trying to put weight on his right foot without her noticing. When he grimaced, she couldn’t help but see. “Our bad luck—and me slowing us down.”
A twinge of guilt even stronger than his pain shot through him. Frustration overwhelmed him. He thumped his fist on the roof of the car and was rewarded by a shower of snow falling onto his boot.
Great. A sprain on one foot, frostbite on the other.
“You’re not the only one who brings bad luck,” she said cryptically. Not bothering to explain, she shook her head. “And you didn’t slow us that much. If anything, it was me, worrying about all those leftovers and taking too much time to put them away.” Her eyes misted as she looked up at him.
His heart seemed to wrench, and all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her. But he needed to stay on task. “We can’t think about all that now.”
“I know.” She dropped her voice to a hoarse whisper. “Nick. Obviously, everyone else from the party made it past this point. They don’t know about the tree. They can’t know we’re stranded here. And…”
He nodded grimly. “And they won’t be coming back to pick us up.” He could see by her expression he’d finished her sentence using exactly the words she’d planned to say. “All right. We’ll just have to find a way to move that tree.”
“Brent sounded sure about it blocking the road completely.”
Every negative response she tossed back at him made it clear how upset she felt. And with good reason. Again, he wanted to reach out to her, this time to smooth the frown lines from her forehead. Instead, he kept his hands at his sides and said with a smile, “Hey, what happened to that woman who just a few months ago told me she could handle anything?” To his satisfaction, she raised her chin and nodded at him. “Then, let’s get going. Have you got something in the trunk we can use to chop up that tree?”
“No, I don’t happen to carry chainsaws around with me.”
He laughed. “Too bad. That’s just what we need right now.” He hopped a half step away from the car. It took everything in him to keep his reaction to the resulting pain from showing in his expression. “But at this point, I’ll settle for something I can use for a crutch.”
She shook her head. “I can’t help you there, either.”
“Then let’s check out that tree.”
After one look at the tall, spindly pine that had fallen diagonally across the lane, he knew Brent was right. The tree’s trunk formed a solid roadblock, and its upper branches had gotten entangled with those from the row of pines lining the lane. It would be impossible for them to move that tree with their bare hands.
“We can definitely use a chainsaw,” he told Lyssa. “Michael may have one at the lodge. We’ll need to get that car back up on the road.”
“How? I already tried.”
“Brent and I can give it a push. Let’s hope that works, or else we’ll have a walk ahead of us. And I’ll need those crutches. We might at least be able to get a couple of good branches from that tree.”
“If not, Brent and I can help you back to the lodge.”
If not, you’ll leave me behind.
He wouldn’t say that to her now, but she’d soon realize the truth of it herself. If he couldn’t make fast enough progress, she would have to go ahead on her own with the kids. She had to get them out of this blizzard.
He looked west, in the direction of the lowering sun, but saw only heavy sheets of snow rippling in the wind.
He looked back at Lyssa. Chunky white flakes covere
d her hat and clung to her lashes. She looked like an ice maiden coming to life right before his eyes. Like a woman cold on the outside but, as he knew well, warmhearted in so many ways. Regret held him frozen, too, until he blinked and found his focus again. This was no time to worry about what might have been.
Awkward in his gloves, he tried to brush the snowflakes from her face.
For a moment, he gave in to the urge to rest his hand against her pale cheek.
For another, longer moment, they exchanged a wordless but meaningful glance. Even if she had started to speak and stopped herself as she had a minute ago, he would again be able to finish her sentence for her. But there was no need to voice what they both knew.
If they didn’t start back up the mountain immediately, chances were good none of them would make it safely out of the storm.
Chapter Four
They couldn’t make it back to the lodge.
At least, not in her small car.
The thoughts left Lyssa gripping the steering wheel in frustration.
Nick, on one leg, and Brent did their best to push and lift the rear bumper, hoping to buy her a few inches to gain traction, but with no success.
She took a deep breath and let it out again, knowing she had to keep the kids from picking up on her feelings. When she climbed from the driver’s seat and found Nick standing right there beside her, she hoped she had been successful in guarding her emotions from him.
A useless hope.
As if he had read her thoughts about their situation, he said quickly, “Shake it off, Lyssa. At this point, the car probably wouldn’t make it back up the incline. It’s turned into a sheet of ice already.”
Silently, she nodded, feeling her heart seem to sink almost down to her boots. For now they had to write off using the car. Their chances for a hike back to the lodge didn’t look good, either. The roadway was already too slick, the snow deeper than it had been just a short while before. She didn’t want to risk waiting inside the car. Yes, it would give them some protection from the snow. But not enough. And who knew how long the storm would last.
They had no alternative. “We have to get moving. But”—she waved her gloved hand in the direction they would need to go—“you can’t walk all that way.”
“Sure I can. With the visibility so bad and you having to drive so slowly, we didn’t get that far from the lodge.”
“But you know as well as I do, it’s a steep incline.”
“Good. Maybe on our way up, the snow will slide downhill past us.”
He gave her a grin meant to reassure her, she knew. Her treacherous heart returned to where it belonged and reacted the way it always had at seeing his smile, giving a solid thump of pure pleasure.
He turned away, concentrating on the business at hand. She managed a deep breath. He was always so focused on finding all the answers. Maybe he was good at what he did for a living. Right now, she could appreciate that. But their relationship hadn’t been a job. While they were dating, instead of him trying to troubleshoot her life, to find answers for her, she wished he had taken the time to ask more questions.
Trying not to sigh, she focused on their current situation again.
While he and Brent were attempting to help her get the car back on the road, Nick had urged the two younger kids to stand beneath a tree—not too far beneath, in case the wind dislodged more snow, but far enough to give them a little shelter.
“Hey, Brent,” he called to the teen, who had made his way over to Mollie and Tommy. “I’m going to need some crutches. Start looking for a couple of long branches we can break off that tree.”
“Okay,” the boy shouted.
“Me, too,” Tommy yelled.
Nick turned back, and she dragged her gaze from the car. “You gave it all you had,” he said in a low voice. “Now, we’re out of other options. We’ve got to attempt the trek to the lodge on foot.”
“I know.”
By the time Brent had found a couple of stout branches suitable for a pair of crutches, the younger kids were complaining they were freezing. She had started to shiver. Even Nick had hunched his shoulders inside his jacket, as if fighting the cold. At this rate, they could all wind up with hypothermia.
“C’mon, gang,” he said, “let’s get going.”
They started back the way they had come, following the tracks the car had made. Already, those depressions were nearly filled. And the snowfall persisted. So did her worry.
The wind often made visibility nearly impossible and kicked up drifts high enough to require Lyssa or Brent to lift Tommy. Finally, they gave in and decided to carry him.
“My turn first,” Lyssa said, holding out her arms to Tommy, hoping he would think they were playing a game.
“You can’t carry me,” he wailed. “I’m a big boy.”
“Yes, you are,” she agreed. “But we need to help you just for a bit.”
“I don’t need help.”
“I think maybe you do.” Despite all her experience with her younger sisters and brothers when they were this age, she felt herself floundering. This wasn’t a battle she wanted to fight, and the stress of the situation had started to get to her. The snow had thickened, with each layer adding a new frozen crust. The air was frigid, and the wind had risen again. They needed to keep moving. Fast.
“No,” the little boy standing in front of her insisted, “I wanna walk by myself.”
“Hey, Tommy,” Nick called from just a few yards away, startling her. “I want to walk by myself, too, but I can’t right now, either. I need these. See?” He waved one of his tree-branch crutches at Tommy. “And we all need you to scout for us.”
Brilliant. Why hadn’t she thought of that?
“Huh?” the little boy said, frowning. “What’s ‘scout’?”
“Go first and be our lookout. I have to go last. Miss Lyssa and Brent need you to help lead the way.”
“Help Miss Lyssa?”
“Yes, please, Tommy,” she said, sending Nick a grateful glance.
He didn’t meet her eyes. She had no time to worry about that now, though, with Tommy suddenly eager to jump into her arms and with the fierce gusts of wind swirling the snow around them.
At first, she struggled to walk through the snow with the child, but to her relief she soon she found his extra weight actually allowed her to get better traction. She was grateful to Brent, too, for leading the group, keeping his steps short, crunching a trail through the top layer of snow for the rest of them to follow. His large boots left oversized footprints, which also helped her make steady progress without fear of stumbling while she held Tommy. Mollie stayed close behind them, playing a game of hopping from one deep depression to another, and sometimes pausing for Nick to catch up.
If not for the cold and the snow around them, they might have been out for a walk in the woods on a sunny summer’s day. As much as she loved living in a winter wonderland like Snowflake Valley, right now she knew which scenario she would prefer.
A while later, when Brent came to Lyssa’s side to take Tommy from her, he muttered so only she could hear, “We’ll never get back to the house.”
“Of course we will,” she told him, meaning every word. Just minutes ago, to her surprise and unending relief, she had discovered Nick had been right. Though she’d felt as if she had driven for an hour down the icy driveway, they hadn’t traveled that far from their starting point. Again, the irony of the situation struck her. In any other season, they all would have faced only a slightly challenging uphill hike.
Well, all of them but Nick.
As much as she tried to keep him out of her thoughts, she was always conscious of him behind her, of how slowly he was moving along, how much pain he must be feeling.
They stopped briefly so she could hand Tommy to Brent. Her entire upper body ached from carrying the little boy, but she tried to move and stretch her arms casually so no one, especially Nick, would notice. Her stiffness couldn’t be anything close to his pain.
> Brent managed to walk with the younger boy perched on his shoulders. For a few minutes, Lyssa stayed near them, watching to make sure he wouldn’t drop Tommy or fall himself. The teenager seemed surefooted and confident, which didn’t surprise her. Snowflake Valley provided lots of opportunities to participate in winter sports, and she had often seen Brent skating at the outdoor ice rink.
“We’re almost there,” she said encouragingly to their small group. Then she quietly dropped back a few paces.
She looked over her shoulder at Nick, who brought up the rear of the procession. The lines of strain in his face made her want to take off her gloves and gently brush away his worries. As if she could.
Those worry lines told her what she needed to know without having to ask. But after lagging behind until he caught up with her, she couldn’t help asking anyway. This time, she made sure to lower her voice. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
His clipped response bothered her, especially considering the concern he’d shown for her in the car, after the way he had several times put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Now that they were nearly back to civilization and safety again, he’d changed. Gotten colder. And not just from the elements.
“That kid’s got the best balance of all of us,” he said, eyeing Brent ruefully. “That would be true even if I didn’t have these things.” He shook one of the tree branches in annoyance.
He had found something he couldn’t troubleshoot. Couldn’t fix. She didn’t find any satisfaction at all in that. Instead, she simply—and silently—gave thanks for the improvised crutches. They helped him walk without continually putting his full weight on his injured foot. For the most part, the crutches had allowed him to keep within sight of the rest of the group—both saving face for him and saving them all time.
If he couldn’t continue to move at their pace, she would have to go ahead with the kids. She wouldn’t have a choice. She also wouldn’t be able to bear the thought of leaving him behind.
He could get lost in the storm…the way he was already lost to her. Her pulse raced, telling her how much that idea upset her, too.
Snowbound with Mr. Wrong (Snowflake Valley) Page 4
