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Mitchell parked the SUV, leaving it running as he put in his earbuds. No way the person, or people, in that car would survive the night. The back end of the vehicle was smashed in, as was the front. The snow had increased and he realized even he wasn’t going to make it home—so-called expert New England driver or not.
“I’m checking to see about the passengers.” Hazards on, he climbed out, shivering from the biting wind and wet snow.
“Sir, you need to stay in—”
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. He hung up and slid to where the car hovered.
“Anyone hear me?”
“Help.” A woman’s low drawling voice reached him.
He slogged through the deep snow. “Are you the only one in here?”
“Yes. My leg’s pinned.” A slight wobble in her voice but she’d not succumbed to hysterics.
Moving with caution, he got to the driver’s side. He crouched to peer in the window. Mitchell opened the door and swore it was colder in the car than out.
“Name’s Mitchell. Which leg is pinned?”
“Right one. People call me Hope.” A sharp breath. “Hope Roman.”
No disguising the fear in her voice.
“Hope. Beautiful name.” He inched closer, not liking the easy way the snow shifted beneath him. Whatever he was going to do, it had to be fast. “Can you undo your belt, Hope?” This car wasn’t going to stay here for long, its position was too damn precarious. Add the wet and heavy snow and the time was even shorter.
“Tried.” A slight sob before she cleared her throat. “I’ve been trying. It’s not budging. And to tell you the truth, I’m a bit worried by how the car keeps moving.” Her voice wavered only the once before it firmed up.
He dug in his pocket for the Leatherman tool he always carried. “I’m going to slice through the seatbelt. Brace yourself so you don’t put more strain on your captured leg.”
“Okay.”
His touch slid over curves that he would describe as lush, and he made himself focus before he got to the seatbelt. Following it up, he sliced up high then went down to her lap belt.
“What brought you up to this area?” He didn’t only ask to keep her distracted but because he needed to focus as well.
“What gave it away that I’m not a local? The fact I’m hanging upside down in my overturned car?”
He appreciated that she had retained her sense of humor and wasn’t crying. Even so, he recognized that she’d dodged his question.
“Well,” he teased, his fingers brushing against her smooth but far-too-cold skin as he worked the blade through the strap as fast as he could without hitting anything vital on her. “I wasn’t going to point it out, but you do have an accent.”
He got a laugh that time. Damn if it didn’t crack the iron wall around his heart. It was frightening how easily that happened.
“I’m going to the other side to get your leg free.”
“Okay.” Her voice wasn’t as strong this time and he didn’t like that.
He wiped the wetness from his face as he rushed to the other side to wrench the door open. It took some muscling to do that, which in his mind meant there had been some bouncing before she ended up where she was now. The vehicle slid a few more inches. He swore. Feeling his way, he paused when she whimpered.
“This is going to hurt.”
A few moments of silence. “Pain means I’m not dead. I can take it.”
A fighter. He approved. Strong. Unique. Special. Like the snowflakes that fell outside. Flykra. Snowflake. That’s how he would forever think of Hope Roman.
“I’ll lift on three. You get out and away from the car as fast as you can.”
He tried not to worry her that she needed to be out in case—correction, when—the car started to slide down.
“Understood.”
He got the best position he could find, making sure he wasn’t going to slip and lose his grip and possibly pin her again. Or himself. “One.”
Hope covered his hand with hers and squeezed. “Thank you. For stopping. I didn’t want to forget to say that. I’m not sure if I’m hallucinating or not, because you have one hell of a sexy voice. The kind a woman would love to have whispering in her ear.”
The quaver in her words was a gut punch. This lost woman had been nicer to him than he could remember a stranger being in a long time. And her words…wowza.
Would that change if she knew how much he was worth?
“Two.”
He felt her gather herself. Mitchell did the same.
“Three.” He heaved up and Hope moved. The sound of ripping fabric reached him but he ignored it and held out as long as he could.
“I’m out.”
He retreated quickly and met her at the trunk. Mitchell reached for her hand, clasping it in his larger one, and together they trudged up the incline and made their way to his car, slipping and sliding the entire way. It didn’t escape his notice how much she favored her left leg and that he was pulling on her a lot more than he would like, but they had to get out of the cold. He held the car door open for her and partially lifted her up to the passenger seat before shutting out the blowing snow and rushing back to the driver’s side. As he stepped up to slide in the warm interior, he watched as her car’s lights vanished, skidding down the side of the mountain.
