Chapter 3 #2
He muttered something under his breath, and the truck slowed for a moment. She blinked in surprise as he shrugged off his heavy jacket, leaving him in a red-and-white flannel that clung tightly to his arms and chest. “Here,” he said gruffly, tossing it over her shoulders.
The sheepskin was warm, carrying the faint scent of woodsmoke and him. She pulled it tighter and took her first deep breath of the day.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He didn’t answer, just kept his eyes on the road, hands locked on the wheel. Lily closed her eyes and breathed—slow and deliberate—and found calm in the storm.
The farther they drove from Northfield, the more her lungs expanded and the steadier her breathing became.
Rush glanced at Lily then forced his eyes back to the road.
She was too quiet. Leaning against the seat, her head tilted to one side, red curls spilled over her shoulders and caught the glow of the dashboard lights.
Her lips curved faintly, her breathing even, and she looked almost serene. It was unnerving.
Growing up with two younger sisters, he was used to chatter, arguments, moods that flipped like a switch. Lily’s eerie calm after the chaos of the day was something different, and he didn’t trust it.
Not your problem, Callahan.
He wasn’t unsympathetic. He’d help her get wherever she wanted to go, but that was it.
At thirty-four, he’d had a lifetime of his younger sisters’ emergencies and helping them out of various scrapes.
But this particular female, with her big green eyes and distracting curves, was putting a serious cramp in his life.
He just needed to figure out where to unload her.
He squinted at the heavy clouds hanging low over the sky.
He’d gotten off the thruway when the roads iced over, but conditions only worsened the farther he drove into the Adirondacks.
The truck crawled through steep, twisting curves where flimsy guardrails were all that stood against the cliffs they were driving on.
In the summer, the drive was picturesque; tonight it was a snow-covered gauntlet with the wind howling through the trees and the tires fighting for grip.
Riggs looked up, alert as always to his moods. Rush quickly rubbed his head then returned his hands to the wheel.
The Adirondacks had always been his escape. Pop’s hunting cabin in the woods had given him peace and solitude when nothing else did, but the beauty in these mountains came with danger, and tonight they weren’t out of it yet.
This was supposed to be his reprieve. Off duty. Off-grid. No sisters checking on him, or worse, the people who slapped him on the back and wanted to buy him a beer he didn’t deserve. He didn’t want thanks or pity. He just wanted to forget.
The one-year mark of the accident was closing in this week, along with the memorial for Caroline Whitmore. She was blond. A single mom to a little girl with matching hair.
And now she was dead, and he was playing white knight to a runaway bride in the middle of a blizzard.
Lily Hart had no plan, no money, and no clue what she was doing.
Hell, she didn’t even have a coat.
He should’ve turned around and driven her back to her family, but something about the look in her eyes when she said she couldn’t go back had lodged under his skin.
Grimly, he turned up the radio to listen to the weather alert.
“This is the National Weather Service with an urgent winter weather advisory for the Adirondack region. Whiteout conditions and dangerously low wind chills expected. The New York State Thruway is closed due to hazardous conditions. Nonessential travel is strongly discouraged. If you must be on the roads, carry an emergency kit and be prepared for severe conditions…”
Rush’s jaw clenched as the warning ended and reality set in. They weren’t making it to a hotel. The only option left was the cabin.
Lily stirred beside him, pulling his jacket tighter around her small frame and looking out the icy windows. Her wide eyes stayed fixed on the snow blanketing the windshield faster than the wipers could clear it away.
“The snow’s really coming down,” she said nervously. “Is it safe to keep driving?”
“No,” Rush said shortly. The tires skidded again, forcing him to adjust. “But stopping isn’t safer.”
He could feel her gaze on him. “Where were you heading?”
“My cabin.” He tipped his head toward the shadowy outline of Autumn Ridge, high up in the mountains looming over them.
“What kind of cabin?”
“Hunting. There’s no heat except a woodstove, no cell service. It’s not exactly your kind of place.” He glanced swiftly again at those long legs with the killer heels. No boots either. They were fucked if they got stuck.
He mentally ran through the emergency supplies he kept in the truck for weather like this.
Blankets. Flashlight. Extra rations. First aid kit.
He always planned for worst-case scenarios.
It was part of his training, and second nature to him, but nothing had prepared him for being snowed in with a runaway bride.
She tilted her head as if she were considering his words. “How do you know what my kind of place is?”
He barked out a laugh, even though there was little humor in it. Everything about Lily Hart was soft and feminine, from her pretty hair to her tiny little ankle-breaker heels. She was not the “roughing it” type of gal.
Lily’s chin tilted up. “I think I could handle it.”
Rush shot her a look. She clutched the edges of his jacket so tight her knuckles were white. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, and her eyes darted between him, Riggs, and the snow-covered road ahead of them.
Guilt tugged at him. His sisters would say he was being a grumpy asshole. He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“You don’t have a choice,” he said finally, resigned. “The thruway’s closed. The cabin’s closer than any motel. If I’m getting stuck, I’d rather it be there.”
Her lips parted slightly, uncertainty flickering across her face. “We’re going to your cabin?” Lily asked. “Won’t we be snowed in there?”
“Better snowed in with supplies than stranded here in the middle of nowhere.”
Lily nibbled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’ve never been snowed in before.”
Rush had spent years in the military, reading people under pressure.
He knew to watch the way a soldier’s hands shook before a mission, or how their breath hitched ever so slightly before they admitted they were in over their heads.
As a sheriff, he was trained to pick up on people’s subtle cues.
Lily Hart had every red flag, from her too-tight grip, her forced calm, and the way her eyes darted just a little too much.
She was scared. Maybe not the kind of scared that made people panic, but she was in over her head, and she was trying hard not to show it.
But she was holding it together, and he had to respect that.
“It’s not as fun as it sounds,” he said, gripping the steering wheel as another gust of wind rocked the truck. “The cabin has wood, food, and water. It’s not exactly luxury, but it beats being stranded out here.” He paused for a moment. “We’ll be okay.”
She hesitated for half a beat before squaring her shoulders. “I’m not scared,” she said, lifting her chin up higher. “This is an adventure.”
Rush sent her a sidelong glance. Adventure? Sure.
“Look,” he said, exhaling slowly to keep his frustration in check, “you need to call your family while we still have reception. Someone needs to know you’re safe,” Rush said firmly.
He thought about Rachel and Sarah and how he’d feel if one of them ran away from their wedding and hopped into a stranger’s truck.
Lily nodded and took the phone he handed her. As she dialed, he focused on the road, but he couldn’t help but hear the conversation.
He wondered who she’d call first. He wondered about her fiancé too. He’d looked real pissed watching them drive off. Rush wasn’t worried about Tucker, but he sure hoped Lily knew what she was doing. Things were about to get interesting for them.
“Evie, it’s me. I’m fine,” Lily said soothingly.
Not her fiancé, then. Her twin sister, Evie, the librarian in Northfield. Unlike Lily, Evie never had a problem meeting his eyes, and she’d never blushed and stammered before.
“I’m with Sheriff Callahan,” Lily continued calmly. “He’s taking me somewhere safe. Just tell Mom so she doesn’t worry.”
Evie must have said something Lily didn’t like, because Lily’s pink lips pressed into a thin line.
“Oh my God,” she gasped. She paused for a long moment, listening.
“Everyone saw it?” Her head dropped, and she pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Please just… let everyone know I’m safe. I need the weekend to think.”
She listened for a moment longer before saying goodbye and hanging up. She handed the phone back to him silently and wiped at her cheek.
Rush froze. Tears. He hated tears.
Lily leaned back, eyes closed. He thought she muttered, “I am a still lake,” but when he looked at her, she looked serene again.
Rush kept his eyes on the road. It was getting darker, and the snow was so thick the lines were gone from the road. He hadn’t seen a car for miles. If they could just make it up the ridge, they could see the cabin. Easier said than done.
The truck jolted violently, a thud reverberating through the frame. Rush swore, slamming it into reverse, but the tires spun uselessly before fishtailing into a ditch.
Thank God they’d gone to the right—toward the ditch—because on the other side, the flimsy guardrail was the only thing separating the road from a sheer drop of at least fifty feet.
For a beat, stillness pressed in. His mind betrayed him, pulling him back to another road, another night. The flash of headlights in the icy water. The panicked call jolting him out of bed. The chill of the river biting into his skin as he fought the current.
Caroline’s body slipping from his grasp while her daughter sobbed against his chest.
His lungs seized, suffocating on phantom water, until Lily’s voice cut through.
“Hey, are you okay?” Her hand rested lightly on his sleeve, her diamond engagement ring flashing in the dim interior light.
Rush nodded tightly, forcing his fingers to unclench from the wheel. “We’re fine. Just need to dig us out.” His voice sounded more confident than he felt, but it would have to do.
Lily glanced toward the guardrail and the drop beyond. “Well,” she said shakily, “at least we didn’t go that way.”
Rush grunted, already climbing out into the storm and making his way through drifts to the passenger side. The truck was going nowhere tonight. He yanked her door open.
“We’re not making it farther,” he said grimly. “The cabin’s about one hundred yards up the slope. We’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”
Lily’s eyes went wide. “Can we make it?”
“We don’t have a choice.” He reached around her for his duffle bag. “Let’s go, Riggs.” The dog bounded down from the truck and took off, sniffing happily.
The wind whipped at Rush, icy flakes stinging his cheeks and soaking him through his flannel to the skin. Lily hunched deeper into his coat. Rush crouched low, using the door as protection against the wind.
“What are you doing?” Lily gasped.
“Tearing off your skirt.” He didn’t give her time to protest, grabbing the thick white mass of satin and tulle.
He held it away from her body, the blade of his pocketknife flashing in the dim light as he sliced a clean slit up the middle of her thighs, exposing them to the frigid air when he pulled her toward him and out of the truck.
She wobbled on her flimsy heels, and Rush steadied her with a firm hand on her waist, spinning her around to attack the back of the dress. Another sharp rip and the skirt fell to a choppy hem just above her knees, leaving the garter on her white thighs exposed.
“Sheriff!” she squeaked, spinning around. Her cheeks were pink.
Rush leveled her with a stare, batting away the snow from his face impatiently. “This will give you a fair shot walking through the snow. Give me your foot.”
She hesitated, but he hauled her heel into his lap, wrapping the torn skirt tight around it, then did the same with the other. His hands were already ice-cold and soaked to the bone, his flannel clinging like icy wet cement to his body.
He stood up and patted the sides of her—his—jacket, looking for his gloves and hat while she stared up at him. Her lips were parted, her breathing fast but not breathless, Rush noted. He handed her his heavy gloves and beanie. “Put these on, and make sure you have your inhaler.”
“What about you?” Lily’s face was pale, her green eyes huge in her face. He wanted to reassure her, but they were going to run out of daylight soon. Shit was getting real serious, real fast.
“It’s not that far. Sit tight, and I’ll get the supplies. We’ll walk the rest of the way.”
She nodded silently, looking as grim as he felt. He had to give her credit, though. She was handling this better than he would have expected. He hoped that continued because they had a hell of a walk ahead of them.
Rush tugged the beanie over her head, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the storm.
“Keep up,” he barked over the howling wind.