Chapter 1 #6
“He says there’s a good chance it’ll clear up after that. Told him we’ll head up 160 to 117.”
“It would be stupid to go south at this point.”
“You look tense.” Moore put the phone down and rummaged through the console, pulling out her coffee thermos. “Want some?”
Grateful to be taken care of, she took the thermos that he gently opened and drank greedily, not realizing how much she needed it.
Her phone buzzed.
“Luke again. Says not to take any dumb chances.”
“Tell him to check in on Sandwich.”
“Your cat is fine.”
“My cat needs someone to just peek in on her.”
“She’s a cat who ignores everyone. You’ve only been gone a few hours. She’ll be fine.”
“Just text him.” Opening her mouth, she stretched her jaw, a dull pain beginning to settle in there.
Moore did as asked, then frowned at her phone. “He says he can’t. A car hit that huge oak right by the Fields’ CPA office. Took out the whole building.”
“WHAT?”
“Yep,” Moore said, squinting harder at the phone. The man needed reading glasses but wouldn’t admit it to himself. “Says all hands on deck over there. Power lines down, too.”
“Anyone we know?”
“You, uh, were dating Tim Fields until, well…”
“I meant the driver of the car.”
Moore texted Luke and waited.
“Message not sent.”
Colleen groaned. “We lost the signal?”
Settling back in his seat with an exhale that puffed his lips a bit, he sighed. “Guess so.”
“I really hope he can check on Sandwich.”
“I think he’s a bit busy.” Moore searched in the console, the clatter of her dad’s CD jewel cases making it clear he was looking for some longer-form music to listen to. Meanwhile, Colleen was running through every worst-case scenario in her mind regarding her beloved cat.
Someone would check on her. She knew in her bones no one in her family would abandon her sweetie.
Losing the cellphone signal didn’t help matters, though. If road conditions were so bad up north that people were sliding into trees and toppling them, maybe she and Moore needed to reassess.
Opening her mouth and suggesting they get a hotel room for the night could be like ending the world, though. Humiliation could kill you. If Moore made a sexy crack, or a joke that made it clear he didn’t think of her in a romantic way at all, it would destroy a little bit more of her soul.
She knew there was nothing between them. Never would be. But that was different than hearing it straight from his mouth.
For the next fifteen minutes, they listened to Radiohead and drove on until they hit the center of Wolfeboro.
Which was dead, barren and empty, the way any pragmatic town accustomed to snowstorms would be. One lonely gas station had its lights on and, without a word, she pulled into it, Moore opening his door before she could grab her own handle.
Always fill your gas tank in a storm. You never knew when you’d need it.
Bzzzz
Her phone went nuts, tons of texts coming in suddenly. As she grabbed it, her soundtrack changed from music to the clank and clunk of Moore pumping gas.
Luke’s texts were stacked neatly on her screen:
Stay on 28.
Fields’ CPA office destroyed by that old oak tree Dad’s been eyeing for years.
Single car accident. Fatality. Out of towner.
Colleen gasped at that one and texted back:
Did they make it to the ER?
Her co-workers rarely lost anyone. Normally, if people died, they were dead on arrival.
No. DOA.
She winced.
Were you the first responder?
He replied back instantly.
Rusty
Rusty Johnson was the town manwhore, who didn’t even care about her Third Date Colleen status.
Or, as he’d said, “We can just have some fun twice, then.” The wink he’d added made her laugh so hard, she’d burst blood vessels under her eyes.
Sadly, there had been nights she’d considered his come-on, but knew damn well Luke would never let her hear the end of it if she slept with a member of the town’s police force.
Besides, Rusty wasn’t her type.
Can you check on Sandwich? she wrote back.
Mom already did. She’s fine. And we’re all connected at the camp.
Connected?
Dad put up loose ropes.
Ropes?
Between the buildings.
We’re not Little House on the Prairie, Luke! We don’t need to tie a rope to Pa when he goes and checks the horses.
Tell that to Dad.
Colleen was laughing through her nose as she heard the loud click that meant the tank was full. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Moore pull the nozzle out, replace it in the pump’s holder, and push a button on the electronic payment screen.
Normal. He looked so normal, living life and going about his business. How many times had Moore filled a gas tank? Bought a candy bar? Delivered a package to the post office, wiped down a kitchen counter, mowed his lawn?
Normal life appealed to her. Fed her. Made the world make sense.
Snowstorms like this were normal, and yet they weren’t.
And now she was fighting the rising anxiety that said she was good enough to be Moore’s friend, but not to be more.
Who knew that offering to do the guy a favor by picking him up at the airport would be so fraught with emotion?
The passenger door opened and a shock of cold wind and flakes hit her face, making the air in her lungs go icy as she inhaled sharply.
“There,” he said. “Someone taped a note to the pump. They left the pumps on for credit card use only. Store closed due to storm.”
Instantly nervous, she looked around at the quiet town. “What do you think?”
“I think my favorite sub shop is closed,” he said, so morose that she burst out laughing.
Her phone buzzed.
“You have a signal?”
“For now. Luke said Sandwich is fine. Mom checked on her.”
“Of course she did. You all live a few hundred feet from each other.”
“I know. But…”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Fatality. The car that hit the tree. Single driver. Out of towner.”
“Ouch.” Moore went quiet. “That’s terrible.”
“Yes.”
“I have an idea. My uncle’s cabin.”
Her legs turned to jelly.
“Hmm?”
“It’s not far from here. He let me use it two summers ago. He never changes the key code. We can head toward it and if the storm keeps up, we can stay there for the night.”
Jelly… she was just a heart and a brain floating in jelly.
“Okay.”
“I know you’re worried about Sandwich, but if the storm’s that bad...”
“Sure.”
“You have a shift at the hospital?”
“Not until four tomorrow.”
“The main roads will be clear by noon, easy.”
“Sure.” How could he not see that her entire body was quivering before him?
“It’s right off Route 28. We don’t even have to deviate from our route.”
Bzzzz
It was Luke again.
Where are you? he texted.
Wolfeboro, she replied. Moore’s uncle has a cabin near here. He thinks we should head there and maybe ride out the storm.
“What’re you doing?” Moore asked in an amused voice, drinking his coffee.
“Telling Officer Worrywart our plans.”
“We might not need the cabin. It’s about twenty more minutes north. Gets us closer to Luview, and if it’s clear there, we’ll just head home.”
“Sure.”
It seemed that Colleen was now only capable of bland one-syllable words when it came to spending the night with Moore.
If she could reach up and slap herself, she would. How many times had she spent the night with Moore before? Countless sleepovers. Camping trips. Plenty of vacations where Moore tagged along over the years. This was nothing new, she chided herself.
Except… they were alone.
And both were single, suddenly.
And Moore had definitely been flirting earlier.
Right?
“Do we have any food? You brought coffee and water, but if we get stuck?”
“Just the emergency pack in the back. Protein bars and jerky.”
“Has to be good enough. Nothing’s open here.”
A snow plow lumbered by. The scrape of metal on asphalt was followed by the sprinkling sound of sand being spread. That was their cue.
Pulling out slowly, Colleen steered the truck onto the road behind the plow, grateful for the easy path.
“Creep” played on the speakers, Moore’s baritone hitting super-deep notes with a mournful tone as they drove, the sound eerie yet calming.
Driving behind the snow plow at thirty-five then forty miles an hour, they bought themselves five miles of easy driving until the plow turned off the main route at the town line, where road conditions abruptly became much harsher.
“I’m sorry,” Moore said as the song ended.
“For what?”
“For putting you in this situation.”
“Because I picked you up at the airport? It could happen to anyone.”
“I should have driven myself last week. Then I wouldn’t have had to put you out.”
“You didn’t drive last week because Hannah needed to borrow your car. Remember?”
He muttered a curse word. “That’s right. And she dumped me by text!”
“I hope she didn’t steal your car.”
He pulled out his phone. “No service. Can’t even ask her where she left my keys.”
“Probably in the ignition. One of the Morgenstern boys has been joyriding.”
“Hah.” His eyebrows knit, the tips of his lashes almost touching them as she glanced over. “Hannah.” Washing his face with his hands, he shook his head. “What a mess.”
“Not your mess anymore.”
“No. She’s not. But ouch.”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“Not your fault I can’t keep a relationship going.”
“It’s not your fault, either, Moore! She dumped you because you made your child a priority. Who does that?”
“Maybe I’m somehow doing it all wrong.”
“Doing what all wrong?”
“All of it. Parenting. Dating.”
“You parent just fine. Better than fine.”
“He hates me and I see him a grand total of fifty days a year, Colleen. I’m not parenting ‘better than fine.’”
“Those fifty days a year happen through sheer force of will on your part!”
Vehement and outraged that Moore would even entertain the thought that he was a bad father, Colleen unleashed, relieved to let some of her anxiety out.
“But Jordy doesn’t want me there.”
“Jordy wants you! He’s just a teen figuring everything out, and you’re a safe target.”
“I’m tired of being a target when what I want to be is a dad.”
“You are a dad.”
“I’m a punching bag.”
“Because you’re the only parent who loves him unconditionally, so it’s safe for him to vent.”
Shocked, Moore’s face showed it. Colleen felt like she’d scored a point in a game where winning meant nothing.
“You think that’s why he’s such an ass to me lately?”
“Yes. Cammie makes it impossible for him to talk about his real feelings. She also blocks him from seeing you as much as she can, and she badmouths you. On some level, Jordy wants you to rescue him. You can’t, legally, but you still show up, so he’s confused.”
“How do you know this? Did–did he tell you this?”
“Yes and no. He’s still so angry that you ‘disappeared’ for a year.”
Moore slammed his fist on the dash.
“I did not disappear!”
“I know that. You know that. But–”
Black ice is a treacherous demon in the mountains of northern New England, especially under hidden new snow, and when the truck swerved, Colleen instantly knew what she’d hit.
A shot of adrenaline, different from anxiety, made her numbness vanish as her senses sharpened.
Fishtailing, she turned the steering wheel gently to correct the alignment, her foot lightly pressing the brake to slow down enough but not stop.
Easing off the brake, she hesitated until the wheels touched snow, feeling the traction, correcting the course again with steering.
“Yikes,” Moore said softly, once it was clear that the crisis had been averted. “Black ice?”
“Yep. Under the snow.”
“I’m not sure where we are, but I think my uncle’s place is up ahead. No GPS. I remember an exit with a small pond right there, and the cabin’s on the other side of the pond.”
“I think we’ll be staying there tonight,” she said tightly. “And I can’t talk anymore.”
“No prob.”
Senses already heightened, Colleen moved into a different state of consciousness. Her eyes fought the dizzying influx of flakes against the windshield, hands gripping the wheel, neck and back tight as she leaned forward and drove.
“I can drive,” Moore said quietly.
She shook her head. “If we stop now, we’ll be stuck on the road. How much further to your uncle’s?”
A sign for Ossipee, the next-nearest town, was almost obscured by attached snow.
“Next right turn!” he announced, in a voice filled with so much relief, she nearly cried.
Slowing down, she worked the brake carefully, the downslope more dangerous than going uphill.
“Here! Turn here.”
Her blinker on, she did as told, but nanosecond by nanosecond, everything went wrong.
First, the pressure of the ball of her foot on the brake pedal felt different.
Second, the right wheel began to jump and skitter on the road.
Third, Moore grabbed the arm rest and braced himself.
As the car slid to the right, Moore’s arm stretched across her front, as if cushioning her blow. Colleen felt her mind split, part of it going into hiding in preparation for the pain that was about to hit her, the other leaping into strategic action to make decisions about how to move next.
Physics won, though, dominating everything.
It always does.
As the wheels got air, the truck tilted toward Moore, slamming his shoulder into the door.
Colleen was pulled by g-force across the center console, the gearshift digging into her lower ribs with a pain she couldn’t scream out.
It was the kind of blow that could permanently damage your liver, her nurse’s mind told her.
A low hum filled her ears, cold air and snow suddenly inside the cab.
“COLLEEN!” Moore shouted. “The water!”
“Water?” There was no water. Just snow, and was he opening the windows? Why would he do that in a snowstorm? Silly man.
Unable to think of anything else as the world tilted on its axis, she searched for the window controls in the door to counteract his stupidity, her hand coming up to open air.
The seatbelt cut into her neck, her bones suddenly useless as she hung by the safety belt, her head against Moore’s ribs, his shouted words nothing but the vibration of his skin and bone against her ear.
The cab tipped entirely on its side, but one wheel caught the ground, Colleen’s foot slipping from the brake to the accelerator, and the truck lurched forward into a strange sort of spin before she could try to press the brake again.
They flipped.
The turnover itself was a blur, but the shock of ice-cold water filling her boots as the truck turned again, Moore suddenly gone underwater, was too much.
Water.
Ice.
Cold.
Shock.
Dark.
Then her face was underwater, too, as she hung mostly upside down, unable to breathe.