by Cora Seton
“We’re going to figure this out,” Anders said. “Together. You’re not alone in this. You know that, right?”
Curtis turned toward his friend, who was hunched over the steering wheel, peering through the driving snow that had cut visibility down to nearly nothing.
Anders shot a glance his way. “I’m serious. That’s what Base Camp is all about.”
“I guess.” But he couldn’t help feel that the fate of the whole community was resting on his shoulders. “This snow is ridiculous,” he added. It was coming down in sheets, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of the truck.
None of them would be going anywhere tonight.
Which meant no chance of finding his bride.
“Slow down.” Hope gripped the armrest as Raina’s foot pressed down harder on the gas, sending her car lurching forward on the slippery highway as the snow pelted down around them. “You can barely see ten feet ahead of you—this isn’t the time to drive like you’re in the Indy 500.”
“If we don’t make it to Bozeman tonight, we’re not going to make it at all. You heard what the weatherman said. Two feet of snow, and more coming tomorrow. We’ve got to push through now.” Raina had been distracted since yesterday afternoon, and at the hotel last night, she’d spent hours on her phone, doing research, as she’d put it, barely watching the funny wedding movie Hope had found for the occasion.
In the last couple of hours, Raina had grown antsy, and she refused to let Hope drive, even when it was her turn. They’d crossed the border into Montana just past dinnertime. Hope couldn’t wait to get to Bozeman and be done with the long trip.
“If we go off the road, we might not make it at all. Ben told me specifically I was to get you to your wedding in one piece.” Hope reached down into the large purse at her feet, drew out her planner, flipped it open to the correct page and looked at the items left unchecked on her list. She pulled out her phone and tried to bring up a map, but she’d lost reception. A sign flashed by outside her window. Chance Creek—10 miles.
“Stop worrying so much. New topic: I’ve decided to find you a man.”
“You’re already helping me find a job. I don’t need a man. Can you see at all?” she asked Raina, leaning forward to polish the windshield with her sleeve. It was dark, and the snow was coming down so hard their headlights reflected back off the swirling flakes. “Watch out—you’re not even on the road!”
“Yes, I am.” Raina bent forward to peer through the windshield, too. “How many miles to Bozeman did that sign back there say?”
“It didn’t say anything about Bozeman.” They were going so slowly she couldn’t remember when she’d seen a sign that did. They hadn’t passed a vehicle in miles, either. There was no one else dumb enough to be driving in this storm.
“Crap.” Raina banged the heel of her palm on the steering wheel rather dramatically, Hope thought.
“What?”
“We need gas. We’re under an eighth of a tank.”
Hope leaned over to see. “There’s at least a quarter of a tank—”
“I always fill my car when there’s under a quarter tank left. We’re not going to make it to Bozeman.”
Hope swore. “Are you sure?” Where would they find gas in a storm like this?
“Positive. My car has a very small gas tank. Wasn’t that Chance Creek back there? We’ve still got hundreds of miles to go to Bozeman.”
That didn’t sound right, and Hope checked her planner. Chance Creek wasn’t on her list of towns, but surely—
“Chance Creek will have gas,” Raina said confidently. Hope wished she shared that confidence.
Hope watched the gas gauge as the minutes ticked by, glad to see that Raina had finally slowed down. It was getting difficult to see where the highway ended and the shoulder began.
“Chance Creek. Gas, food, lodging,” she read aloud in relief when she caught sight of another sign.
“I told you. It’s bigger than it looks.”
Hope turned to her. “You’ve been here before?”
“Uh… no. Of course not. I saw a population sign back there,” Raina said quickly.
Hope hadn’t noticed a population sign. She gripped the armrest more tightly when Raina turned off the highway and the car skidded in the deeper snow on the ramp. It seemed like no one had driven here in a good long while, and even their snow tires were no match for accumulation.
“What were we supposed to do tonight? Read off your list,” Raina said.
Hope turned a page in her planner. “Unpack, steam your clothes, check with your mom about the details about the rehearsal and the dinner.” She kept reading through her list, flagging items they still might be able to do when they arrived tonight and putting tiny arrows by the items they’d have to shift to tomorrow.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she looked up again.
“Where’s the town?” As far as she could tell in the darkness, all they were passing were pastures. She hoped any cattle living out here had a place to shelter tonight. “Did we go the wrong way?”
“I followed the signs,” Raina said.
They kept going. Ten minutes later, however, there was no pretending they were on track.
“We’re lost,” Hope declared.
“Not lost, exactly,” Raina said. “Just not where you think we should be. Maybe I did take a wrong turn.” But she kept on going.
“We’d better stop and go back toward the highway.”
“That’s not going to be easy. This road is so narrow—and it looks like the shoulders slope away. Are those drainage ditches? What if we slide into one?”
She had a point. “Keep going until we get to an intersection. You can turn around there.”
“Sure thing.”
Why was Raina so damn cheerful? Hope’s heart was in her mouth. What if they ran out of gas before—
She looked at the gauge. Still nearly a quarter tank left.
Raina seemed determined to pass by every turnout in the county before she finally called out, “There!” She spun the wheel suddenly and swerved in an awkward arc across the road toward a lane that intersected it. Hope caught sight of a sign: Base Camp. She wrinkled her nose. Where had she heard that recently?
She didn’t have time to think it through. “Watch out!” she cried. Raina wasn’t turning fast enough—they were going to miss—
Both women shrieked as the sedan hit an icy spot, spun round and slid backward into a ditch. They landed with a dull thud that boded ill for the car’s back bumper, but Hope was just grateful it had all happened so slowly neither of them had been hurt.
“You okay?” she asked Raina, just to be sure.
“I’m fine, but the car isn’t,” Raina said in a little voice. “I didn’t mean to—” She broke off and buried her head in her hands. “Ben is going to kill me if I’m late!”
“He’s not going to kill you.”
“I’m supposed to meet his grandparents tomorrow night.”
“We’ll get there in plenty of time for that.” Hope understood her reaction, though. Ben—affable, loving, wonderful Ben—had put his foot down about the wedding. He expected Raina to be on time—not just to the wedding itself, but to all the events that preceded it. “He’ll understand about the snowstorm.” Hope didn’t have to explain what she meant; both women had been obsessed with getting this right since Ben had first stressed how important it was. That’s what happened when your husband-to-be was a saint, Hope thought wildly. If she married—and the emphasis was on the if—she wouldn’t pick someone quite so wonderful.
It was a lot to live up to.
“That’s not the point. The point is he wants me to be there—on time. And I want to be there, even if I want to find you a—I mean… I don’t want to miss anything!”
Raina wasn’t making much sense, and Hope leaned over to see if she’d hit her head. She didn’t see any bumps or bruises, though.
“You won’t miss anything. I prom
ise.” Hope needed Raina to calm down before she got too wound up. They were sitting in a car in a ditch in the middle of nowhere, and it was dark and getting colder by the minute. They needed to figure out a game plan.
“Should we stay with the car or look for help?” Raina asked, echoing her thoughts.
“I don’t see any houses—”
“The bunkhouse is at the end of the lane.” Raina slid a guilty look her way. “I mean—this is a ranch, right? There’s bound to be a bunkhouse—or a regular house—or something.”
Hope peered at her friend again. Raina didn’t usually babble like this. She decided to be practical. “Let’s try to get the car out of this ditch first.”
“I don’t think it’s going to work.”
The car was tilted at a strange angle, as if they were in an amusement park ride, heading up the first hill of a roller coaster before they rushed down the other side.
“Maybe we should call Triple A,” Hope decided. She pulled out her phone. Raina grabbed it out of her hand. “What are you doing?” Hope demanded.
“No bars. I’m not getting any reception either. We need to go find the people who live here.”
Hope took her phone back, wondering why Raina sounded relieved, when her own anxiety surged with the news. “I’m supposed to have coverage everywhere.”
“This is the country,” Raina reminded her, as if she needed reminding. “It’s getting cold. We can’t just stay here.”
“What if there isn’t a house for miles? Some ranches are huge, right? Maybe we should stay with the car. It’s warmer in here than we’d be out there, right?”
“Won’t the heater blow cold air if we sit here too long?”
“Maybe you’re right.” Hope was getting nervous. “I don’t suppose you have a bag of sand in the back of the car.”
“I did,” Raina said in a tiny voice, “but I took it out to make more room for my things.” She looked so guilty Hope couldn’t stand it anymore.
“I promise you this is going to work out, no matter what,” she said. “I swear to you on… on my future as a Yellowstone park ranger.”
Raina tried to smile, but Hope knew it was time to stop talking and start acting. “Come on, let’s start walking.”
“Wait—did you see that?” Raina pointed toward the lane they’d slid past.
“See what?”
“A light!”
“It’s really getting slick out here,” Anders said the third time they drove the truck down the lane to plow it.
“Glad we didn’t wait for the snow to pile up.” Curtis knew it was better to stay on top of this kind of thing. They’d plowed the lane up to the manor, too, and from there out to the road along the main driveway. They’d be glad they’d done so tomorrow once the highway was clear and they were able to come and go at will. Just like he’d thought, he wasn’t getting into town tonight, and all the time he’d wasted this month trying to make it work with Michele was killing him.
“We’d better call it a night after this.” Anders was quiet a moment. “You’re not going to make it to town in this weather. You’re going to have to work the internet again.”
“Yep.” He wasn’t looking forward to it. “Tomorrow I guess I’ll—”
“Hey—what’s that?” Anders interrupted and pointed at a glow at the end of the lane. “Are we expecting company? Looks like someone’s coming.”
“Or maybe someone’s stuck,” Curtis said as they got closer. The light didn’t move as they approached.
“You’re right.” Anders stepped on the gas, although he kept his speed down. Curtis knew he didn’t want to lose control of the vehicle.
“They’re in the ditch—hey, watch out!”
Anders spun the wheel, sending the truck sliding across the icy surface of the road as two women had appeared around the end of the car, leaving little room for him to maneuver past them.
Anders brought the truck under control and stopped it, then edged it forward to park at the side of the road. “Jesus, that was close.”
Curtis was already halfway out of the truck, Daisy bounding out ahead of him, barking at the new faces.
“What the hell are you two doing? Are you trying to get killed?” Curtis shouted when he’d rounded the truck.
He took in two sets of frightened, female eyes and got his temper under control, blowing out a breath that plumed white in the freezing air. “Sit, Daisy,” he commanded. Daisy sat in front of the women, her tail swishing eagerly. She loved visitors to the ranch.
“You scared us,” Anders called out as he caught up. “Pretty icy out here. Thought I might hit you.”
“You shouldn’t have been driving so fast,” the taller woman said. Serious, with dark hair and thin, dark brows that framed her blue eyes like wings, she stepped forward to meet them.
“Sorry,” the other woman said, pushing in front of the first. She was petite, with thick, dark curls. “We were just so excited to see you. We thought there might not be anyone around for miles. I got us in the ditch. Do you think you could pull us out? I’m Raina, by the way.” She was smiling, looking from one to the other of the men in a way Curtis recognized.
A fan of the show, if he wasn’t mistaken. Weekly episodes of Base Camp garnered record audiences around North America and beyond. This wasn’t his first brush with an excited fan.
Anders took her hand when she offered it and shook. “I’m Anders, and this is—”
“Curtis,” Raina said, confirming Curtis’s suspicion. “Good, you’re here.” She bent down to let Daisy sniff her hand. “You’re Daisy, aren’t you? I recognize all of you.”
“Recognize them? How?” her friend demanded. Curtis exchanged a look with Anders. It wasn’t often they went unrecognized these days. When he went to town, everyone asked about the show. One of the hardest parts about trying to meet women online was that most of the ones who solicited him already knew who he was. He was never sure if they liked him—or wanted to be on the show, too. At least Michele had been open about wanting to make use of his notoriety.
“Hope’s never watched a single episode of Base Camp,” Raina said with a shake of her head. “Can you believe that?”
Curtis perked up. “Not any of them?”
“I don’t watch TV. I don’t have time,” Hope said.
He liked her clear-eyed gaze and her self-deprecating smile. Curtis had immediately pegged her as the strong one. The determined one. She looked like a woman who pursued her goals steadily—and relentlessly. Raina didn’t seem that way at all.
Behind Hope, Anders waggled his eyebrows at Curtis in a “this is an interesting turn of events” type way.
It was an interesting turn of events. He needed a woman, and lo and behold—here one was. Even cocooned in a winter jacket, he could tell Hope had an athletic figure, and her practical outdoor clothes labeled her as a woman with a good head on her shoulders. No fur and bows for her—just a quality jacket and gloves that would hold up in rough conditions. She moved nearer to pet Daisy, too, crouching down, pulling off her gloves and rubbing Daisy’s ears like she couldn’t help herself. Curtis’s heart lifted.
A woman who liked dogs.
“Can you get us back on the road?” Hope asked. “We’ve got a lot of miles to cover tonight.”
Curtis exchanged another glance with Anders. “I don’t think you’re covering any more miles tonight. We’ll get you out of that ditch, but then you’d better come with us up to the bunkhouse—”
“I’d love to see the bunkhouse!” Raina squealed.
Hope sent her a bewildered look. “The bunkhouse?” she repeated. “What about Ben?”
“Who’s Ben?” Curtis asked.
“Raina’s fiancé. He’ll be wondering where we are.”
“We’ll make sure you get in contact with him. He won’t want you driving in conditions like this. Come on, let’s get you warm and dry and get your car out of that ditch. Do you have a fiancé, too?” he added. Might as well find out right away.
“No, she doesn’t,” Raina said. “She doesn’t even have a boyfriend. She prefers men with dark hair over redheads. Guys with a little meat on their bones. Ones without accents.”
“Raina!” Hope looked scandalized.
Curtis tried to control the smile tugging at his mouth and wondered if he’d succeeded. “That’s all good information,” he told Raina.
“Ask and ye shall receive, right?” She shrugged innocently. “I got a Base Camp Bulletin yesterday. Heard all about the way Michele married her assistant instead of—” She broke off. “Anyway, enough of all that. Let’s just say I’m up to date on all the Base Camp news.”
Jesus. “You know about Michele—?”
“I know everything. You’re still looking, right?” she asked innocently.
She didn’t beat around the bush, did she? “I’m still looking,” Curtis confirmed.
Hope, obviously baffled by their banter, cleared her throat. “We really need to be on our way tonight,” she said firmly, but she slid a glance his way. Was she checking him out?
She was.
For the first time since the show began, Curtis thanked the social media department. He and most of the others on the show avoided the Base Camp website and marketing efforts as much as they could. He hadn’t known why anyone would want to get updates on their phones.
Now it seemed kind of brilliant.
“How’d you happen to be near Base Camp, anyway?”
Raina’s eyes went wide, and Curtis realized he’d stepped in it.
“We needed gas,” Hope said.
“Gas is the other way—ouch!” Anders rubbed his shoulder when Curtis punched him. “What did you do that for?”
Curtis shot him what he hoped was a significant look, and Anders said, “Oh… right. Anyone could have made that mistake in a snowstorm.”
Not exactly true. The signs for the gas station and the center of town would have been hard to miss. How had Raina managed it?
Had she come here and crashed her car on purpose?
