Chapter 29 Jensen
Jensen
The fire warmed the small cabin, and the flames provided a source of light as the sun went down. Under different circumstances, it would have been rather cozy. But as I lay with Natalie in my arms, I knew we weren’t out of the woods yet. Quite literally.
We were stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere in a raging blizzard, and I didn’t know how we were going to get out.
Natalie shifted, propping herself up on one arm. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
I caressed her face. “That you’re the most beautiful woman in the world?”
She smiled. “No. That we’re stuck in a snowstorm.”
The wind howled, rattling the windows.
“At least we have shelter for the night.”
The firelight flickered, illuminating her sad eyes. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
“We can’t go out in that.” My gaze moved to the dark window. As if to emphasize my point, the wind howled again. “Not until the sun comes up at least.”
“I know. I don’t suppose your phone has a signal?”
“No. Nothing.”
“I think my phone is still in your car, but I doubt it would work out here anyway.”
“Unlikely.” I brushed her hair back. “Listen, I’m going to get us out of here.”
She nodded, but the sadness didn’t leave her expression. “Nina is probably freaking out, wondering where we are.”
“She might be, but there isn’t anything we can do about that tonight.”
“I promised Annabel I’d be home for Christmas. I didn’t just promise—I pinky promised.”
“As did I. And we’re going to keep those promises. We might be late, but we’ll get home for Christmas.” I brought her in for a soft kiss. “For now, let’s focus on the fact that we’re safe from the storm. We’ll see what daylight brings.”
“Okay.”
She settled against me, and I held her until we both drifted off to sleep.
The cold woke me before dawn. The fire had died down during the night, leaving a chill in the air. Natalie nestled against me, her body soft and warm. I held her for a while, letting her sleep, and enjoyed the feel of her in my arms.
We had a difficult day ahead. I harbored no illusions that we were driving out.
There was far too much snow. I wondered if we’d even find my car in the drifts.
Although we had to. Natalie wasn’t dressed for a long trek through the woods.
Her coat was in my car, as were the extra hat and gloves she’d insisted I purchase.
The pale light of dawn began to filter through the windows, and Natalie stirred.
“Morning,” she said.
“Merry Christmas, darling.”
She smiled. “Merry Christmas.”
I kissed her. But as delicious as she was, it wasn’t the time to linger in bed.
“First things first,” I said. “We need water. And then a way out.”
“We can use snow, but we need to melt it first. If there’s a pot or something, we could do that over the stove.”
I gestured to the old snowshoes on the wall. “And those might get us out of here.”
“They look ancient. They must be for decoration, not use.”
“As long as they hold together, they’ll help. My car isn’t far. I don’t think there’s any chance of driving it, but you need warmer clothes. We’ll go there first, then hike out until we get a signal and can call for help.”
“Is it still snowing?”
It was hard to tell in the dim light, but at least the wind was no longer shrieking.
“It might be. If we have any luck, the worst of the storm is over.”
“I guess we just hope for a Christmas miracle.”
Leaning in, I gave her a quick kiss. I felt like I’d already been given one.
One thing I knew—I was going to get her home for Christmas. No matter what.
We moved quickly, getting dressed and adding more wood to the fire.
Natalie found a pot and cleaned it out with snow, then set some to melt on the stove.
Fat flakes drifted down peacefully outside, settling on the thick accumulation of fresh snow from the storm, but at least it was no longer the blizzard of the previous day.
The cabin didn’t have much more that would help us.
We took down the snowshoes, and they seemed sturdy enough to use.
I insisted Natalie wear my coat, hat, and gloves.
It occurred to me that there were two fully dressed bodies outside, and we could probably use some of what they were wearing.
But I decided I’d rather hike to my car without a coat than dig out the bodies of Archer and Julian.
When we were hydrated and bundled as much as possible, with snowshoes on our feet, we ventured out.
Snow spilled inside when we opened the door. The wind had built up a tall drift in front of the cabin, and we had to climb out. Even with snowshoes, we sank to our knees, and the frigid air bit into me.
I narrowed my eyes, peering through the early dawn light. The road had disappeared. The only sign of its existence was the space between the trees.
“Can you manage?” I asked.
She nodded. “You must be freezing.”
“I’ll be all right once we get moving.”
We set out, past the mostly buried vehicles, toward the road. The fresh snow was soft and the drifts uneven, making it hard to keep a straight path. Although the howling wind of the previous night had died down, gusts still whistled through the trees and bit at my exposed skin.
It didn’t take long for our legs to ache from both exertion and the cold. The snowfall grew heavier, making it hard to see very far ahead or keep track of the road. I had to stop and squint, looking around to make sure I didn’t lose our way.
Finally, we spotted it. The top half of my car stuck out in the midst of all the white. As I’d suspected, it was too buried to get us anywhere. It was going to be difficult enough just getting inside.
“I wish there’d been something in the cabin to help us dig,” she said. “Although I guess I should be grateful for the snowshoes.”
“Indeed. I’ll need the gloves if I’m going to do this without frostbite. Just keep your hands tucked in your pockets.”
She gave me the gloves, and I set to work, digging my way through the snow.
Movement kept me warm, although it was impossible not to get wet.
But I wasn’t worried about myself. Natalie hadn’t uttered a word of complaint, but I knew she was sore and cold.
Concern for her and determination to get her to safety edged out everything else.
I didn’t care if I broke my body doing it. I was going to get her home.
After what felt like an eternity of digging, I was able to wedge the driver’s side door open. Since Natalie was smaller, she crawled in and retrieved her coat, plus another hat and set of gloves. She found her phone, although it didn’t have a signal any more than mine did.
“All those presents,” she said with a laugh as we traded coats. “They seemed so important yesterday. Now I just want to get home.”
I gave her the dry set of gloves and tried to ignore the fact that the wind was increasing again. “It won’t be long, now.”
“I hope not. And I hope the highway is open once we get there.”
“One thing at a time.” I gave her a quick kiss, although my lips were numb. “Ready?”
“Let’s do this.”
Leaving my car behind, we headed out again. Hunkered against the wind, we trudged along. Sometimes our snowshoes kept us on top of the snow. Other times, we’d step and be up to our thighs in a powdery drift. More than once, I had to help Natalie climb out of a deep spot.
I glanced at her regularly as we hiked, making sure she could keep up. I could see the toll it was taking on her. She was still injured from the bloody car accident, and I had no doubt Julian had been rough when he’d shoved her in his car.
Fucker.
At least he was dead.
The wind picked up, blasting snow in our faces. Natalie stumbled forward, and I reached out, catching her before she fell.
“Sorry,” she said through chattering teeth. “My legs are so numb.”
I checked my phone, but still no signal. “Just a little farther, darling. You can make it.”
She nodded. Snowflakes clung to her eyelashes, and her cheeks were pink from the cold. I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted to bring her home.
I held out my arm, and she took it. With her clinging to me, we kept going. Our existence was reduced to the struggle to lift each leg and put it in front of us, one step at a time.
Natalie’s foot sank into soft snow, and she tumbled forward, almost taking me down with her. I crouched and scooped her up, helping her to her feet.
She didn’t say anything, but tears gathered in her eyes.
My chest felt like it might burst with determination and rage. And something else. Something bigger than both combined.
Love.
I loved this woman, and I was going to save her. No matter the cost.
“Come on.” I turned and put my back to her. “Climb on.”
“You can’t carry me.”
“Of course I can. Get on.”
She managed to get on my back, and I held her legs while she clung to my shoulders. The added weight made me sink deeper into the snow, but I didn’t care. Every step, no matter how painful, brought us closer to safety.
My legs screamed at me, my back ached, and the wind tore through my clothes. But I kept on putting one foot in front of the other. I couldn’t give up. Natalie needed me, and I wouldn’t fail her.
Besides, it was Christmas. That had to count for something.
The forest seemed endless, and it was hard to estimate distance, but the land gradually descended.
I kept near the trees along what I hoped was the road.
The more numb and tired I became, the harder it was to tell.
I leaned forward, trudging through the snow, sheer force of will the only thing keeping me upright.
Finally, when I was starting to worry that my legs might buckle beneath me, we emerged from the trees onto what had to be the highway, covered in snow.
I set Natalie down and paused to catch my breath.
“I don’t have a signal,” she said. “Do you?”
I checked my phone. “It’s coming in and out, but it might be enough. I’ll—” A noise in the distance made me pause. “Do you hear that, or am I hallucinating?”
“Hear what?”
Maybe I was hallucinating. But there it was again. It sounded like music.
“Wait,” she said. “I do hear something.”
A deep rumbling grew, and for a moment, I thought the music had been a hallucination.
“I think I hear a vehicle, but…” She leaned one ear toward the direction of the sound. “Are those bells?”
It did sound like bells. Open-mouthed, she and I stared at each other as the noise grew—the roar of an engine accompanied by the tinkle of bells.
What was happening?
Through the falling snow, headlights appeared. At that point, half delirious with exhaustion and cold, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a sleigh pulled by bloody reindeer.
It was bright red, but it wasn’t a sleigh. It was a vintage fire truck with a wide snowplow mounted to the front—the one we’d seen outside the farm store. “Jingle Bells” blared from speakers mounted to the top, and the entire thing was decked out in blinking lights.
“Oh my gosh!” Natalie exclaimed, waving to the driver. “Woody! Stop! Woody!”
The fire engine slowed and pulled to a stop a short distance away. The music cut off, and a man with a thick white beard and a Santa hat leaned out.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. Santa Claus had just come to our rescue?
“Woody!” Natalie called again. “Oh my gosh, I’m so happy to see you!”
“Natalie Thatcher? What in the name of Christmas Day are you doing out here?”
“It’s a long story. Can you give us a ride?”
“Of course I can. You’re lucky I saw you in all this mess.”
“Who is that man, and why does he look like Santa Claus?” I asked.
Natalie laughed. “Woody Blankenship. He’s the one I told you about who plays Santa every year. Because of the beard.”
“Naturally.”
In a daze, I helped Natalie up into the truck and got in with her. She settled onto my lap, and the relief of not dragging myself through the snow was overwhelming. Woody turned up the heat before making a U-turn across the highway.
“What are you doing out here?” Natalie asked.
“Plowing,” Woody replied. “The county guys are doing their best, but I figured they could use some help. Gotta be a lot of folks out there trying to get into town for Christmas. But what were you doing out there?”
“Would you believe I was abducted by a jewelry thief and taken to a remote cabin as bait to lure him into a showdown with his longtime nemesis?” She gestured to me.
“Huh.” Woody nodded as if that didn’t sound the least bit implausible. “Glad you made it out all right. And just in time for Christmas.”
Natalie laughed. “Just in time.”
“Should I take you home, then?” Woody asked.
“Yes, please. Thank you so much.”
“You’re quite welcome.” He turned the music on again, and “White Christmas” filled the air around us.
Of course. It was our song.