Page 69 of Abdominal Snowman

All Aboard the Snowman

“Soren!” Sage screamed, her voice stolen by the rushing wind.

She squeezed her arms around Soren’s waist and buried her head into his back as he jerked the handlebars to the side and made the ATV skid.

The crunch of the snow under the treaded tires was a much different sound than just her boots sinking into it.

The eerie silence after the four-wheeler slid to a stop and Soren cut the engine was even more deafening than the sound of the vehicle itself. Lifting her head, she blinked and took in their surroundings as her ears roared. And of course they were parked perfectly parallel with a giant tree.

She pulled off the helmet Soren had loaned her and glared up at him.

“How was it?” he asked.

“You know damned well how it was!” she said.

Soren had the gall to laugh.

With a grumble, Sage climbed off the back of the ATV and opened the attached storage carrier to get her camera bag. Her breath fogged the air, and she tried to hide her grin.

Soren drove like a madman. And it was awesome.

Terrifying, possibly life threatening—for her, that is—but fun.

More fun than she remembered having in a long time.

“Oh, you enjoyed it,” Soren teased, hanging his helmet from the handlebar.

“I know,” she replied simply. She’d squeezed her arms around him each time he’d taken a turn, and she hadn’t looked down the whole time. Just… most of the time.

“This next part won’t be so scary,” Soren informed her. “Ready?”

Snow crunched beneath Sage’s boots as she followed Soren up the steep path. A large sign posted at the beginning of the trail stated Overlook Peak.

Snow was piled around them in huge drifts, and she realized this area must have been affected by Soren’s storm. She tried not to dwell on it and directed her mind back to the ride. Soren knew every pathway on this mountain, even the treacherous, hilly ones. And the rocky ones.

Sage huffed along behind him, trailing her gloved fingers along the snow-covered pine branches surrounding the tight trail. She smirked as the snow fell, an idea forming in her mind.

At the next snowdrift they passed within reach, Sage scooped up a handful.

“Soren,” she drawled, packing the snow tightly between her hands.

He slowed and turned to her. “Wha—”

Crunch.

The snowball smacked against Soren’s chest, but it was a little lower than where she’d aimed. Naturally. There was a reason she had quit T-ball as a child. She was artsy, not athletic.

Pealing laughter escaped her lips at Soren’s expression, which quickly morphed from curious to shocked as he took the hit. He bent down, grabbed his own handful of snow, and raised an eyebrow at Sage.

“You have about ten seconds to run, Sunshine,” he growled.

Sage’s heart skipped a beat before charging into a gallop in her chest. There was nowhere to run in the tightly packed trail full of trees and snow and sloped edges. She turned quickly, but not fast enough as Soren lobbed a snowball smack in the middle of her face.

Her mouth dropped open in shock, and Soren’s laugh was loud enough to wake the bears. Snow stuck to her eyelashes as she shook her head and blinked it away. She leaned down and scooped up another ball before charging toward Soren, kicking snow with one leg as she went.

Her sphere smacked him right in the chest, and she would have shouted in success, but snow and Sage didn’t go well together, and she found the first slick spot on the path. The world tilted as her foot slipped out from beneath her, and she jerked her arms forward to catch herself but—

She never had to.