Chapter 23
SAWYER
“Snow day my ass,” I mutter as I run to my car through the pouring rain. It’s been coming down hard since yesterday. Some roads are more puddle than asphalt.
The school district is large, so when towns north of Ormewood Mountain get snow, we’re off as well.
Blue Ridge is usually sheltered from bad weather, but every seven years or so there’s a blizzard that makes its way in.
When that happens, the surrounding mountains make the storm ten times worse, acting like insulation and keeping it here until it loses steam.
I’m not surprised it didn’t snow like it was predicted last night, but the temperature’s plummeted all day. By late afternoon, I finally decide to play it safe and drive into town for supplies.
As I pass the elementary school, water kicks up from my tires.
Some is already solid, and it finally hits me that I could be stuck at home for days just from the ice.
Blue Ridge isn’t prepared to salt the entire town, let alone the mountain roads leading to my place.
I love the seclusion of my cabin, but that’s what makes it potentially dangerous in a storm like this.
When I walk into Madam’s Hardware, the pitter patter of rain follows me in.
As I leave ten minutes later, the rain is gone, and big fluffy snowflakes float down from the sky.
I toss the bag from the hardware store into my truck and hurry to the grocery, which takes a lot longer than it should due to all of Blue Ridge joining me.
Afterward, as I hurry to my car, I glance at Valley View Provisions across the street.
I’m not usually one for fancy meats and cheese, but my legs are already walking through the slush on some weird instinct.
Besides, I can check that the Clarkes, the couple who runs the shop, are prepared and can get home safely.
By the time I’ve run all my errands, all the shops are closing up behind me. The wind whistles, snow travels horizontally, and cars slide through the intersection even after hitting the brakes for the red light. I head home at a crawl.
Just like with the provisions store, as I drive past the elementary school, I have this inexplicable draw to it. On instinct, or maybe habit from being a SEAL, I jerk the steering wheel into the lot and do a loop around the school.
“This is a waste of time,” I tell myself as I round the building.
But then my heart stops as I spot a car. Brie’s car. It’s clear no one’s in it.
I squint past the snow to the window of her classroom. It’s dark.
Where the fuck is Brie?
The truck creeps forward, rounding the next corner as I scan the lot. It’s almost impossible to see anything. My eyes dart to the back entrance of the school, hoping she’ll appear.
Movement in my periphery catches my attention.
Oh shit.
Through the haze, I see Brie at the edge of the parking lot, by the street. She’s on all fours, making her way up to stand.
As fast as I dare, I speed up, anger flaring in my chest that she’s out here in a goddamn blizzard dressed for a brisk day at the beach. Thin sweater, cotton pants, sneakers.
I roll down the window. “Hey! Brie!” My stomach bottoms out when she turns to me. There’s a streak of something wet and red on her pants. “Is that blood?”
She’s half-limping, half-running. “Fuck off, Sawyer,” she manages to say.
“It’s a fucking blizzard!” I yell. “What the hell are you doing out there? Your car’s back that way.”
“Decided to go for a refreshing run,” she yells back without looking at me.
She’s made it about a yard since I spotted her. “Very funny. Get in.”
“Leave me alone, Sawyer.”
Deja fucking vu.
She’s so damn stubborn. I yank on my emergency brake and get out of the truck, knowing how this is going to go.
In a few careful strides, I’m standing in front of her, and she stops, shifting her weight to one leg because—yup—that’s definitely blood high up her thigh, almost her hip.
Her hair and sweater are wet from the snow. How long has she been out here? She looks up at me with all the venom she can, but her teeth chatter, ruining the illusion.
“Where the hell is your jacket?” I growl.
I shrug off my coat and drape it over her shoulders. Then I step forward, closing the distance between us. She’s breathing hard, blinking rapidly against the falling snow.
“What the hell are you doing?” she demands.
“This.” I throw her over my shoulder, ignoring her protests, and toss her into the passenger seat. I shut the door and round the hood, part of me worried she’s already out and running before I can climb in. But when I do, she’s still there.
“What’re you even doing here?”
“Watering my kids’ seedlings,” she chatters. “I didn’t want them to come back to shriveled leaves.”
“During a blizzard?”
She tugs my coat closed around her. “It wasn’t snowing when I got here. I lost track of time reading.”
“And your jacket?”
At that, she looks sheepish, ducking her head and looking out the window. “I freaked out when I saw the snow. Got out of there so fast I forgot my jacket and keys.”
“And the school doors are on a timer,” I finish for her.
They would have automatically locked an hour ago. That’s why she was at the road. No car keys, and no way to get back indoors. She really was trying to run for it.
“Are you hurt?” I ask.
“Just my dignity.”
“You could’ve frozen to death!” I don’t mean to shout, but my body is vibrating with adrenaline.
“Running generates body heat!” she yells back.
Bracing myself on her seat, I lean toward her. “Is that why your teeth are chattering? All that body heat?”
She lifts her chin, but doesn’t retort. The sound of the wipers squeaking over my windshield fills the cab. She smells like pear and citrus and snow. Her face is maybe three inches from mine. I’m so fucking grateful I found her.
I reach over to tug on her seatbelt and click it in place. I do the same with mine, then I look straight ahead and start driving.
There go my plans to stay as far away from Brie as possible.