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Divorced for over ten years, there had been constant speculation about the women I dated or why I was still single. It was the unfortunate part of being in the public eye. But at forty-three, I felt I was just hitting my stride in my career, and I had no intention of marrying again. It had become tiresome dealing with all the speculation, and I’d been hiding out at my cabin every chance I could.
I’d thought it had finally died down, but then I’d taken part in a recent charity bachelor auction and the media had stirred it up again. The poor woman who’d won a date with me had taken all the attention in stride. Okay, well, she’d been hoping for a night in my bed, but she was old enough to be my mom and yeah, the night hadn’t ended well. But at least she didn’t post about it on social media.
I talked Heath into coming up to the cabin for a few days during Christmas. The 1940s structure had turned into a month’s long project, and I’d made a run out to it today to make sure the generator and water were working. The previous owners hadn’t converted it to full electric, preferring to keep it off the grid, but I enjoyed technology too much to go full nature lover. I’d ended up paying through the nose for the hook-up to the local power company, but it was worth the peace and quiet the area offered.
I meant to leave earlier in the day, but the generator had suddenly stopped working after I filled the tank. Two hours later, it was fixed, I think. Checking the weather report, it may be close, but I thought I could make it over the pass before the brunt of the storm would hit.
Grabbing my snow hat, I headed out to my heavy-duty pickup and drove down the winding road toward the highway. I sent Heath a text that I might be a bit late getting home tonight, holding out hope we’d be able to return tomorrow for the holiday.
On his winter break, Heath wanted to hang out with his buddies instead of with me in the mountains with spotty internet. I’d agreed he could spend the first few days at our home in Pineville, but we’d had so little time together between the baseball season with him attending his first year of college in Denver. I wanted one-on-one time so we could catch up—no distractions.
I turned into the parking lot of the gas station-mini-mart and the attached Forest Motel to fill up my tank and grab a couple snack for the road however, the full parking lot of out-of-state vehicles didn’t bode well.
“Hey, Woody. Looks like business is good.” I nodded at the eccentric owner of the connected three businesses.
“Motel’s full up. The pass is closed. You might want to buy more than those mini donuts.” The short, wiry man pointed to a row of dried goods.
Before his words registered, the double glass doors blew open, revealing a petite form wrapped up in a knitted scarf. A pair of dark eyes framed by the longest, snow encrusted lashes I’d ever seen frantically scanned the room.
Tugging down the material, the woman revealed a cute, pert nose, high cheekbones, and smudged lipstick. Rubbing her hands together, she blew on her fingers. No gloves and no boots. Well, snow boots. She was wearing a pair of hikers that had seen better days. No local would be caught in December around here without gloves, lined snow boots and a warm winter jacket. She had a jacket on, but it was too thin for north Idaho.
“A sign on the motel’s office door said to come in here. Please tell me you have a room left?” Irritation laced her plea.
Woody and I shared a look. Mine was probably more interested in the woman than I had a right to be, considering the circumstances and the touch of desperation I picked up in her tone. I found my gaze locking on her delicate features, taking in her wide eyes and full lips, with the smudged lipstick only added to her appeal, and an unexpected desire to find out how they tasted had me shifting where I stood.
“Sorry, Miss, no rooms left. But if you head back to Missoula, I’m sure you’ll find something. Lots of motels there.”
The woman’s jaw dropped, then quickly slammed shut, her once full lips now spread thin. She looked at me, then at Woody, then back at me as if I could change her fate. In less than the time it took to take my next breath, she squinted her dark brown eyes at me, tilted her head in what felt like a move of recognition, but before I could say anything, she whipped her head back at Woody. “Missoula,riiight. Well, thanks.” The drawn-out word rang with sarcasm. She let out a long sigh, wrapped her scarf around her neck and lower face and left in a swirl of snow through the double glass doors she’d just entered.
Frozen from the incredible connection with the woman, I stood staring at the spot she’d just been standing. The look she gave me felt as if she found me lacking in some way while also maybe recognizing me. But that sounded a tad egotistical, even for me. Not everyone knew who I was, let alone a woman who was just passing through.
Woody’s cackle tugged me out of my stupor. “Spitfire, that’s what that one was. Too bad I didn’t have a room. Wouldn’t mind seeing more of her,no siree.” The shorter man peered outside into the night.
Not sure what he was looking at since the snow was now blowing sideways, not even thespitfire’staillights were detectable. Realizing no one should be driving tonight in that mess, not even me and especially not the winter clothing deprived woman who’d rendered me speechless, I dropped my armful of food onto the check-out counter and ran after her.
Bracing against the icy wind, I raised a hand to shield my eyes and scanned the lot for a running car. I found the spot she’d been parked in, but no car.Dammit. My chest tightened in worry for her, a perfect stranger that in less than five minutes had rendered me tongue tied and turned on.
The storm followed me back into the quickie mart. I might as well stock up as best I can since it looked like I’m headed back to my cabin with the questionable generator.
“A woman like that’ll be fine, Dean. I could tell from the looks of her she’s been through worse situations. Don’t you worry. She’ll be fine. Now, pick up what you need for a few days. I’m shutting down. No one else with any sense is going to show up tonight and you need to get back up that mountain before you’re stuck sleeping in that fancy truck of yours.”
CHAPTER3
NORI
My heart wouldn’t stop pounding. My palms were sweating even though it was twenty-five degrees, and my brain was replaying the events inside the gas station/food/roadside motel with whom I assumed was owned by the aforementioned Woody Forest. Counting backwards from twenty, I did my best not to get too freaked out over being up close and personal with my brother’s boss.
A man who had no idea who I was and never would have had I not grabbed a flight at the last minute. I’d been under fire, threatened with imprisonment by a third world dictator and delivered a baby in the back of a bus in central America. But none of those events had left me shaking, my heart beating wildly out of control like Dean Jefferson had just done, and he hadn’t uttered a word.
Talking myself through the breathing exercise I learned from a monk a few years back when I was covering a story in Tibet, I suddenly realized two very important facts. The first was I’d turned left from the parking lot instead of right, which would have taken me back to the freeway. And two, I was on a two lane, if that, mountain road that was quickly filling up with snow. Snow that would soon be high enough that even this late model SUV wouldn’t be able to traverse for much longer.
Unaccustomed to this type of terrain, I did the absolute worst thing. I panicked. Yanking the steering wheel and braking at the same time when I felt the tires slip on the ice, I thought I could execute a U-turn. To my horror, the move sent the car that I thought had been a great choice to handle the mountain pass careening sideways.
At the last minute, I remembered what the rental agent had said if I run into slick driving conditions: “If in doubt, foot off the gas and the brake—don’t fight the wheel, turn into the slide until you can regain traction.” Yeah, that was brilliant advice unless there also happened to be a fast-approaching tree in the direction of your out-of-control car.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I sent out a quick prayer to the Universe and slammed on the brakes. My head bounce-checked off the steering wheel at the same time the right corner of the car clipped the tree before it rocked back and settled.
With my white-knuckled hands gripping the wheel, I watched snow fly out outward from the car just before an enormous pile of it dropped onto the top and the hood. Huh, it was true about moments of terror happening in slow motion.
