Chapter One
Hollis
Giant snowflakes blast across my windshield, making it nearly impossible to see what’s in front of me. I drive at a snail’s pace, my foot lightly poised over the gas pedal, prepared to shift to the brake at a moment’s notice.
You got this, Hollis. Slow and steady.
The internal pep talk does little to calm my frazzled nerves. It doesn’t help that I was already running late this morning and didn’t have time to let my windows fully defrost before leaving. The air pummeling out of my vents is warm at best.
Any other time, this Southern California girl would be overjoyed with all this snow. Sit me next to a crackling fire with a hot cup of cocoa topped with mini marshmallows and I will gladly soak in all the beauty of this winter wonderland.
It’s one of the reasons I agreed to oversee the new business my cousin purchased as an investment until he finds a profitable buyer.
I’ve always wanted to visit Canada, especially the Rockies, and when I found out that the business in question was a year-round Christmas store—my favorite holiday of the year—I jumped at the chance.
It couldn’t have come at a better time since the advertising company I worked for went bankrupt and I was out of a job, which is probably why Shane asked me over anyone else in the family. Still, he needed the favor, and I was desperate for an escape. It was a win-win for us both.
What I didn’t consider was driving in these types of weather conditions, and I really should have because this is not for the inexperienced.
I come upon the lone gas station across from the lake, where the beautiful heart-shaped mountain stands, and feel my nerves slightly settle, knowing my turn-off is just around the corner.
Thank you, Jesus.
My relief is short-lived when a powerful gust of wind kicks up out of nowhere. It sweeps over my car, blanketing my view in a sheet of white.
“Shit!” I lean in closer to the steering wheel, squinting to see through the cloud of white. Just as the snow clears, I’m met with flashing red and blue lights just ahead of me.
Gasping, I slam my foot down on the brake.
Big mistake.
My tires lock in place, sending my back-end fishtailing.
“No, no, no!”
Adrenaline works its way through my body at the loss of control. I press down on the brake even harder, but it’s no use. I’m completely helpless as the car coasts forward in the slowest glide known to man, and it doesn’t stop until the front end of it gently taps the back end of the police-issued SUV.
Through the mass of flurries bouncing off my windshield, I can barely make out the officer writing a ticket to the car parked in front of him.
He blinks at me, surprised by my sudden Ice Capades performance, before leaning over to see the front end of my car attached to his bumper.
I watch his jaw clench and unclench in a mix of anger and disbelief before he shakes his head.
Uh oh. This is not good. Not good at all.