“No.” He hesitated. “I can’t leave this on the side of the road.”
I didn’t argue with him, instead said, “Be careful.”
He nodded and got the bike moving again.
I slid into my dry car and followed behind him.
My knuckles were damn near transparent as we made it into Sawtooth an hour and forty-nine minutes later.
I counted every single one of the minutes down, as well as the miles.
I pulled into my drive after Odin turned toward his house in Sawtooth. I put it in park and stared blankly at the house in front of me as my heart started to come back to me.
“What the fuck,” I breathed as I got out and ran across the muddy ground toward the house.
“Mama!” Wendy cried. “I’m ready!”
I saw that.
“I need to change,” I admitted. “We’re going to be late, but I can’t go looking like a drowned rat.”
She smiled. “I’ll wait right here.”
I didn’t argue with her, instead heading inside and getting changed as quickly as I could.
When I was done, I grabbed both of our raincoats and headed to the car with her.
She jumped and wiggled in her seat, her eyes excited. “Grammy and I helped with that wolf today. She said I couldn’t go in his cage yet. Probably never. But he had this really pretty smile.”
I looked at my daughter in the rearview mirror as I backed out and laughed. “Pretty smile?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I named him Socks. Because he’s black with white feet. He looks like he stepped into the snow.” She paused for a breath. “When do you think it’s going to snow?”
I grimaced as I pulled onto the road that would lead me to Sawtooth from our driveway. “The weatherman says any day now. This storm that’s rolling in is the beginning of a cold front.”
“Oh.” She clapped. “Do you want to build a snowman with me when we get enough snow?”
I smiled, happy that she even had a chance to build a snowman this year. “Of course I do. Then we can watch Frozen.”
“Excellent.” She clapped again. “Hey, isn’t that Mr. Odin from the grocery store?”
I looked up just in time to see Odin heading to his front door, soaked to the bone.
“That’s him,” I agreed.
“Why would he ride his motorcycle in the rain?” She giggled. “That’s silly!”
“It’s not like we really get a choice sometimes. I think he was just enjoying the last of the rain. We were almost two hours later getting out than they said we would be. Maybe he thought he’d be home before the rain hit.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Do you think he rides motorcycles in the winter?”
I pulled onto the main drag through Sawtooth, heading straight for Dr. Pendelton’s office. I slowed down for a woman with a young boy in a stroller, darting across the street to her truck.
The wind knocked the hood off her head and the cover off of her baby’s stroller.
I couldn’t help but smile at the look of elation on her little boy’s face as he threw his hands up in glee as the water touched him.
“No, I don’t think he does,” I admitted. “Rain is tough. Snow is, by my best guess, likely impossible for a motorcycle to navigate through. Now, a snowmobile? Yeah, I think he’d ride one of those.”
