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Wendy quickly bit into the sandwich, relishing the fresh bread and spicy mustard. The church basement was warm and smelled of fresh coffee. She had two bites to go when Mrs. Hoffman returned with an empty tray and sat opposite her. “Don’t you have to get to the hospital?”
“I do.” Mrs. Hoffman nodded toward the kitchen. “But Fritz is helping with a clogged sink.” She gestured to where a pair of jean-clad legs stuck out from the cabinet below the sink. “We have plenty of time.” Lowering her voice, she leaned across the table. “I was in labor with Holly for nine hours. I doubt anything’ll happen before morning.”
Wendy was so focused on her career, she couldn’t imagine having a baby now and settling down. She finished her sandwich. “Thanks for the snack. Apart from some yogurt and my dad’s snacks, I think the fridge is empty at home.”
“You should stay the night. I hope somebody picks up Vera Hershberger. She’s all by herself. That little house will get cold quickly.”
Wendy realized if anybody knew the former teacher’s history it would be Rose Hoffman, who had lived in Bear Meadows all her life. “Has she been a widow a long time?”
Mrs. Hoffman’s green eyes caught her gaze and then slid away. “You should stay here tonight, Wendy. Your road probably hasn’t been plowed.”
Studying the older woman, Wendy could see where Holly and her three older brothers got their black hair. Mrs. Hoffman was as thin as Holly, although not as tall. Wendy tried another tack. “I was talking with Mrs. Hershberger the other day. Did you two go to school together?”
“Heavens, no. She’s years older than I am.” Mrs. Hoffman pressed her lips together. “But Vera is a lovely woman. And she’s been through so much.” She fixed her gaze on something over Wendy’s shoulder. “There’s Fritz. I’ve got to go, dear.”
Wendy zipped her coat and followed the Hoffman couple and Riley through the kitchen, into the parking lot. Someone had left a broom by the door. She grabbed it and carried it to her car, which was covered with two inches of snow in the hour she had been inside. Maybe she should consider the job in Burbank. At least she wouldn’t be freezing to death. Ten minutes later most of the snow had been removed from the windshield. She returned the broom, got into the car and put on her seat belt.
She stopped at the end of the driveway and checked both directions. A looming truck idled in the street, its signal indicating it was turning into the church parking lot. She waved and pulled out. Time to go home.
* * *
AFTER WAITING FOR a small car to exit, Josh pulled into the crowded church parking lot. The massive stone structure with its high bell tower loomed over the neighborhood. The front of the church was dark, but bright lights came from the back door. A generator ran noisily by the side of the building.
“Are you coming in?” With an anxious look, his mother placed a hand on his arm.
“No, Mom.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll stay at the cabin tonight. The key still over the door?”
“Oh, Josh, it’s too cold—”
“I’ll be fine, Mom.”
Sue reached into a paper bag on her lap and slipped a package into his jacket pocket. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”
He was about to get out and help his mother from the truck, but Joe was already assisting Sue. He would leave his mother safe at the church, but he had no intention of walking into the brightly lit crowded place. Bad enough that he was home at all. He saw a burly patrolman approach his mother and glance in his direction. It was time to make a quick exit.
He shifted into first gear and was about to take his foot off the brake when he saw the man standing in front of his truck. How did a guy that big move that quickly? Holding up a gloved hand, the officer rounded the truck. He tapped on the driver’s window. “Sergeant Hunter?”
Josh sighed. The last thing he wanted was attention from the local police. He rolled down the window. “Yes, sir?”
“Your mom said you’re home on leave from the army.”
Josh didn’t see the need to say otherwise. He would be gone soon. What did it matter if people thought he was still in the military? “What can I do for you, Officer?” Up close, the policeman was much younger than he had appeared at a distance. His face was round and the reddened cheeks appeared smooth. Not a whisker to be seen, as if he had shaved just minutes earlier.
“I’ve kind of got my hands full.” One eyebrow raised with an unspoken question.
Josh knew what was coming. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay.” Josh moved his hand to the gearshift lever.
The young man stuck his hand through the window. “I’m Bob Williams. Most folks call me Moose.”
Removing his hand from the gearshift, Josh gripped the other man’s hand. He resisted wincing. “Is Stone still the chief of police?”
“No. He died two years ago come January. Mac McAndrews is chief now. Good man.”
Josh didn’t recognize the name. “Well, good luck but—”
“Mac’s wife went into labor tonight.” His broad shoulders lifted in a massive shrug as he grinned. “Figures, huh? And I just heard about an accident on the interstate. The plow trucks can’t keep up with the snow.”
Josh suppressed a groan as he felt himself getting pulled into the town’s crisis. His mother’s empty cabin beckoned. A quiet place in the woods. A fire in the fireplace. A shot of whiskey. A single shot.
“Look, all I need is for someone to pick up Mrs. Hershberger and bring her back to the church. She lives a block from your mom’s bakery. Has a Go Cubs sign in the yard. She doesn’t have family so...” His words trailed off.
Josh drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and pictured snow falling around the cabin, the stack of logs waiting by the door.
Moose’s grin faded. “Look, man, just forget it. I’ve got to keep moving.” He backed away.
The disappointed look on the young man’s face convinced Josh he was being a heel. “Sure, Moose. I know where she lives. I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry.” He hesitated, and then thought if he was in for a dime he was in for a dollar. “Anything else?”
“Looks like this truck of yours can go anywhere. Maybe you could check on the Smith brothers. They’re two old guys—”
“Yeah, I remember. They still live on the farm on the other side of Little Bear Creek? That all?”
“I don’t suppose you’re familiar with Last Chance Farm. Two elderly people there, too.”
Josh felt his breath catch in his chest. “I’ve heard of it. Anyone else?”
Moose shook his head, but his gaze was on a caravan of cars turning into the parking lot. “Thanks, man.” His last words were shouted as he moved toward the new arrivals. “Your mom said I could count on you.”
Josh peered out the passenger window and saw his mother outlined in the open door of the church basement. He knew she had a lot of questions for him, but then, he had a lot for her, too. Though with the man from the tea shop in the cab with them, the questions, and the answers, would have to wait. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward his mother’s bakery. He hoped the retired teacher wouldn’t recognize him, that she would be so concerned with getting to the church she wouldn’t pay attention to the driver.
No such luck.
“Joshua Hunter, what are you doing here?” Mrs. Hershberger stood in the doorway of her small ranch house. Wearing a pink tracksuit, she clutched a heavy shawl draped over her shoulders.
His own mother had barely recognized him, how had the teacher? “Taking you to the church, ma’am. The power’s out.”
“I’ll be fine here. Besides, I’m not presentable.” Leaving the door open, she walked into her living room.
Hesitating, Josh looked down at the threshold. He really shouldn’t be here. He stepped into the hall and closed the door. “This blizzard’s forecast to continue through the night, Mrs. Hershberger. Are you sure you don’t want to go over to the church for a while? If you don’t like it, I’ll bring you back home.” Officer Williams had made a simple request, and if there was one thing Josh knew how to do, it was to follow orders.
She stood at the window, holding back the curtain so she could see. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll need a few minutes to get ready.”
Waiting for the older woman as she gathered her belongings, he looked around the living room. The retired teacher lived comfortably, but she certainly wasn’t well-to-do. The matching couch and chair were of a style at least twenty years old. An upright piano stood in one corner of the room. He walked over to look at the pictures on top. Multiple class pictures. First graders. Individual pictures of toothless children were stuck along the edges of the frames. A wedding photo. Josh picked it up. Mrs. Hershberger had been a beautiful woman, her curly hair short and dark. She wore a long white dress. Next to her stood a barrel-chested, muscular man, his hair cut in the buzz-cut style of the sixties.
“My wedding photo.”
Josh jumped. He hadn’t heard the woman return. Putting the picture back in its place, he turned. “Do you need a hand with anything?”
She passed him an overnight bag. “I’m ready.”
Two hours later he was finally on his way to the cabin, wondering if he would be as stubborn as Mrs. Hershberger and the Smith brothers when he got old. He grinned. With his mother’s and father’s genes? Probably.
The Smith brothers had been fine, a generator rumbling outside the rear kitchen door. Although they would soon be snowed in, they wouldn’t have a problem once the snowplows hit the back county roads probably in the morning. The elderly couple at Last Chance Farm had been fine as well, comfortable in the kitchen with a fire in the cookstove. They refused to go with him.
He was glad in a sense that they had the blizzard to talk about. It took the pressure off them possibly asking more questions about why he was in town.
He slowed as he approached the turn onto the suspension bridge over Little Bear Creek. The water ran dark between the snow-covered banks, the temperature not yet having been cold enough for freezing. As he crossed the bridge, the wooden boards rumbled under his tires.
At the end of the bridge, he turned right onto the unplowed road that passed in front of the cabin. As his headlights swung in a circle, a movement caught his eye. He slammed on the brakes. The truck skidded and came to a stop.
Josh peered into the curtain of falling snow. He must have imagined it. Or maybe he had seen a deer. But no deer in its right mind would be out on a night like this. No other wildlife, either.
Still...
Leaving the truck running, he stepped out into the darkness. “Hello?” The cold wind took the word and spun it into the sky.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u75935347-a55b-5bd4-a421-e704fd629f34)
WITH THE FLASHLIGHT app on, he pointed his cell phone in the direction he had seen movement. The combination of the heavy snow and the high winds rendered the light practically useless. He tromped to the opposite side of the bank and saw her.
She was crouching by the left rear tire, removing snow with a large broken stick, so engrossed in her task she didn’t even notice his light. “Hey.”
Her head jerked up. At the same time her feet went out from under her and she slipped under the bumper. Josh lunged forward and pulled her out from under the still-running car. Exhaust swirled around them. They landed in a pile of snow.
They managed to stand. She was shivering violently, but not so much that she couldn’t bat at his hands as he attempted to brush snow off her shoulders. His gaze swept over her attire. Nice boots, but more suited for the runway than snowbanks. He grasped her elbow. Her boot must’ve caught on some obscured object because as she tried to gain her balance, she was impeded and fell forward. He swept her up into his arms.
“Whoa, there, mis...mister, I can walk.” Her teeth chattering, she could barely utter the words. She elbowed his chest.
“I’m sure you can. But I don’t particularly want to be out in this blizzard waiting while you take baby steps. Hang on.” He hiked up the bank double-time, causing her to throw her arms around his neck. Depositing her in his truck, he returned to shut off her car.
“My family’s cabin is not far from here. Do for now, okay?”
She looked like she was about to argue, but then she gave a quick nod. He couldn’t leave her out here to freeze, could he?
Bear Meadows was determined not to leave Josh alone.
* * *
WENDY COULDN’T FEEL her toes. The thin black leather and the even thinner socks weren’t doing a very good job of keeping her warm. But then again, she hadn’t worn them thinking she’d be wrestling her five-year-old car out of a snowdrift. But this nice, new truck threw out tons of heat. Wrapping her arms around herself, she hazarded a glance at the stranger settling into the driver’s seat and backing the truck onto the road. A fur-lined hood covered half his face and a dark beard the other, concealing his age. He could be twenty-five or forty-five.
Did she know him? Someone from the station? The shivering in her body seemed to be bouncing her brain around so much she couldn’t think straight.
Maybe she should buy a truck. But she wouldn’t need a truck in Burbank, right? Why was she thinking about Burbank? She didn’t want to be a producer, did she? The truck eased forward. “Do I...” She had to stop and think for a minute. She lifted a hand to her frozen cheeks. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back. “I’m... I’m... I’m so-o-o cold.”
His gaze didn’t waver from the white curtain before them as the truck navigated a small hill. A gloved hand reached out and wiped the condensation from the windshield. “We’ll be at the cabin in a few minutes.”
A spasm of alarm shot through her at the words from the bearded giant. The makeup assistant at the station had told her of a long ago incident not far from here. A man had come down from the mountains and kidnapped a girl. The FBI had actually been called in. Had the man been caught? She couldn’t remember. She edged closer to the door and wrapped her fingers around the handle. She was considering launching herself into the high drifts when he made a sharp turn and the lights revealed a cozy cabin with a swing on the front porch. Somehow the swing eased her fears a bit.
“I’ll go in and start a fire.” The man turned and fixed her with a stare.
In the darkness of the cab, she couldn’t tell the color of his eyes. Just a glint, a spark of life—
“I’ll leave the truck running for heat.”
Before she could answer, he opened the door, letting in a blast of wind and flurries. Just as quickly the door slammed, and she watched as his long legs ran through the deep snow and carried him up onto the porch. He fumbled around above the door and then disappeared into the cabin.
She eyed the ignition, where the fob hung from the key still inserted. Nothing personal to clue her in to the kind of man who had rescued her. No sports memorabilia, no cartoon figure. Just a black fob. She could drive away. She could drive home. The man’s footprints had almost already disappeared in the rapidly falling snow. Who was she kidding? She again leaned her head back and closed her eyes. If worse came to worst she’d have a heck of a story. Local Woman Captured by Mountain Man in Blizzard of the Century. No, that was too many words for a headline. Local Woman Disappears. There, short, concise, attention grabbing. She smiled, pleased, then the grin faded.
Interesting story, for sure...but only if she lived to tell about it.
* * *
SHE WAS ASLEEP. Looking through the window at the young woman huddled in the cab of his truck, Josh frowned. He had no way of knowing how long she had been outside working to free her car from the snow, and she certainly wasn’t dressed for the frigid temperatures. No hat. Straight dark hair curved perfectly under her chin. Bright red lipstick and heavy mascara, as if she had just come from an event. Or maybe a date. His main concern was hypothermia, followed by frostbite. She had been wearing thin driving gloves. That was one reason why he left her in the truck while he started a fire. But the heat had been too much for her.
Despite his less than friendly appearance and the fact he had brought her to a strange place, the woman had fallen asleep, her cheek pressed against the glass.
When he opened the door she fell into his arms. Which would have been fine, considering he planned to carry her through the deep snow, but she woke with the sudden movement and immediately began thrashing.
When a fist connected with his jaw, he stumbled backward. She might have made her escape then, except he had one arm half around her so as he fell he pulled her with him. For a second time, they both landed in the snow. “What the heck, lady?”
She pushed off him and blurted, “Who...who are you?”
“I—”
“And wh-wh-why did you bring me here?”
“Well—”
“I...I live across the creek, but now I’m...at this...” Finally taking a breath, she waved a hand at the cabin. “...place.”
“The road is impassable on the other side of the creek.” Josh propped himself on his elbows. “You’re safe here...and you can get warm. I think you might have hypothermia, and if we don’t get you inside, you’ll have frostbite for sure.”
Her gaze flicked between him, the truck and the cabin. Mumbling, she rested her forehead on her hand. The snow had already made her black jacket white.
He wasn’t sure, but Josh thought he heard something about going home. Lifting himself to his feet, he held out a hand. “Do you mind if we continue this conversation inside?”
She looked at his hand. “I can walk by myself.”
He withdrew. “Fine. You go on in, and I’ll shut off the truck.” He slammed the door and watched the petite woman lift one leg at a time from the deep snow. She teetered to one side, and he held his breath until she managed to right herself. She dragged herself onto the porch and then disappeared into the cabin.
Josh shut his eyes and lifted his face skyward. Snowflakes melted on his skin and gathered in his beard. He wished he hadn’t been the one to find the woman stuck in the drift. Maybe if he had kept going, one of the snowplow drivers would have found her. But by then, she could have frozen to death.
Josh didn’t want to be drawn into any small-town drama. He was still struggling with his parents and their issues. He didn’t feel like he had the full story yet about his mother’s weight loss, and why she and his father couldn’t work things out.
Through the cabin window, he could see the flicker of the fire he had started in the fireplace. The sight might be welcome to someone else, but not to Josh. He didn’t want to be here. The first glance he had of the cabin in years made him face the reality that the building was hardly fit for habitation, just as his mother had said. Maybe he should have driven her to the church. At least the flue was clear and able to take the smoke out into the storm. He opened the truck door again and retrieved the sleeping bag, pillow and his small duffel bag. He would help the lady warm up, but first thing tomorrow he was taking her home and going about the business that had brought him to Bear Meadows.
Supplies under his arm, he tromped through the snow. One foot on the first step, he paused at the sight of a few spindly branches sticking out of the pile of snow to the left. Something new since the last time he was home. The thorns on the branches indicated a rosebush, and knowing his mother, he bet she had rescued an heirloom shrub from somewhere and given it a new home at the cabin.
Stomping his boots on the porch, he opened the door. She sat cross-legged on the hearth, close to the roaring fire. Working as a medic in the desert didn’t give him much experience on frostbite, but he remembered a little bit from his training. One of the most important things was to warm the victim up slowly.
