Chapter Six
ELLY
THE CLERK at the rental car company said the SUV I rented should drive just fine in alternate weather if I take it slow, so here I am, driving into the country in freezing rain. Since I’ve never driven in anything like this before, I didn’t think to ask him how slow I should go.
It’s entirely possible the fact he looked like he couldn’t cross the threshold of even the most lenient bar probably should have tipped me off that he probably hasn’t been driving long.
My GPS says the drive from Tulsa to the Harlow Ranch should take me about forty minutes in normal weather, and it was spot on yesterday, but it’s been an hour since I left the hotel and the further north I go on the highway, the harder the wet sleet comes down on the windshield.
My knuckles are white on the steering wheel and even with the heater and defroster blasting hot air, it’s still cold in the SUV and the ice at the edges of the windshield wipers is not melting. I can’t turn back now.
How can anyone live here? This is horrible.
Repeatedly taking deep breaths and counting to three to help stave the fear, which is fogging up my window even more, I finally get off the highway, away from the pressure of other drivers going around me. I think a few people flipped me off as they passed me.
I thought I could relax a little, but another thirty minutes later, I’m starting to slide on the narrow country road that leads to the ranch, the fast pumping blood behind my ears getting louder.
At least on the highway the heat from the traffic kept the ice from freezing on the road so quick, but now it’s getting worse with each mile.
When I drove this road yesterday, I was going much faster.
But there is no sun today, and it seems like the trees are drooping, so things don’t look as familiar as I would like.
The sharp turn ahead ahead in the road has me letting off the gas to tap my brakes, but my tires slide, and the edge of the road gets closer and closer as I turn my wheel.
The pumping of the brakes turns into my foot, smashing the pedal down as far as it will go.
Even though I am turning my wheel to go around the corner, I’m sliding in the opposite direction toward the edge, like the road has twisted into a slick hill I’m gliding down.
Lights are flashing in the dash, but I can’t look down to see why, my eyes are glued to the road. The loud dinging that is accompanying the flashing is sending my anxiety higher and I think my heart might beat out of my chest.
The car slides over the edge of a short rocky ravine on the side of the road; I squeeze my eyes closed as my fingers loop around the steering wheel in a death grip.
My forehead bounces off the steering wheel, making my teeth clack together as the front of the car rolls into the trunk of a large tree with a quiet thud on the front bumper.
Opening my eyes, I realize I’m holding my breath.
I blow it out in a huff and take another deep breath as I look around me.
Trees in every direction and the stupid road behind me.
I lift my head to the rear-view mirror and look at my aching forehead, there is a red spot marring my skin just over my eyebrows.
The car is still running, I must not have hit very hard, but my forehead really hurts. The angle of the edge I just slid down is kind of steep, but just for giggles, I put the car in reverse to see what happens.
Nothing.
Nothing happens.
Damn it.
Looking around the inside of the SUV, I’m looking for anything I can use as an umbrella but there are only the paper mats in the floorboards to keep the carpet clean, and my genuine leather, over-sized bag will definitely be ruined in the wet sleet.
I’m still a couple miles from the Harlow Ranch, and I huff out a breath as I realize I’ll have to walk.
I’m glad the coat I bought in town the other day has a fur-lined hood, that should help. I hope. Shutting off the car, I open the door and the strong north wind hits me like an arctic wave and the sleet immediately bounces off every part of me the wind reaches.
Everything is slick and I curse under my breath as I think about stupid me from yesterday who declined the gloves when I bought the coat because I didn’t plan to be here long.
I sure as hell didn’t plan to be in the cold long enough to need more than my coat pockets to keep my hands warm.
I scrabble up the slick incline, the rocks are covered in a thin layer of ice, and my fingers sting from the contact.
The feelings of relief and accomplishment as I step up onto the road are fleeting as my foot slides out from under me and the world tilts. My head hits the bumper of the SUV I just crawled out of, and a trickle of warmth starts to slide down my temple to my cheek.
Reaching up to touch my eyebrow, my fingertips come away with blood on them. My ears are ringing and it takes a few more seconds for the pain to start throbbing across my head. Closing my eyes, I wait a minute for the pain to lessen before I try to stand up again.
It’s eerily quiet, except for the sound of sleet bouncing on dead leaves and the already frozen road all around me, it sounds a little like soda fizzing in a glass.
Pulling my coat sleeves over my hands as far as possible, it’s ironic this is the only time I will ever be glad that coat sleeves tend to be too long for my arms, I slowly crawl on my knees and the heels of my palms to the gravel edge on the side of the road.
My head is pounding as I slowly push myself up to test the gravel under my feet, it should help me keep my footing better than the slick asphalt.
When I finally get to the long driveway of the Harlow Ranch, I look up at a metal disc that’s suspended over the middle from a wooden arch. It has a rearing horse and next to it is a large H, on the top side of the H is a small s, and on the underside of the H is a small r.
I’m still too far away from the house to see it through the trees that line the drive, but a sigh escapes my chattering teeth.
I’ve been wondering during this long, frigid walk if they will turn me away, I will never bother them again if one of them will just give me a ride back to Tulsa, I’ll leave and never come back, I don’t care what my father does.
The blood on my face is dried on my skin, I’m not sure which. I wiped it away a couple of times, but since head injuries bleed so much, it’s made a mess of my coat. I can barely feel my toes and my fingers are tingling.
This might be the longest driveway in the world.
Tears of happiness sting my eyes as the big stone and wood house comes into view.
My knees are threatening to give out, I’ve never slipped and fell so many times in my life and my body hurts all over.
I walk past the line of huge pickup trucks in the circle drive in front of the house and start to go to the front steps of the porch when I hear a voice from the side of the house.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The big guy from the barn yesterday is looking at me like I must be the craziest person he has ever seen, but there is concern on his face as he walks toward me, his eyes are fixed on the bloody side of my face.
He has on a big, black wool button-up coat and big leather gloves on his hands, there are weird straps over the toes of his boots and he doesn’t seem to be having a problem walking on the ice.
He really is handsome.
His nose is red and there is some ice on his beard, I smile to myself as I notice there is more red in the brown of that beard than I saw in the barn yesterday.
I’m not sure why it strikes me as funny, maybe I’m delirious, but I try to put on my smile as I take a step toward him, ready to beg him to let me warm up, but my foot slips and I start to go down again.
He lunges for me and slips trying to grab me, but instead of letting me go to keep himself from falling, he pulls me into him and twists his body so I fall on him as he goes down on his back. His body is hard, and his arms are like steel bands around me to keep me from dropping onto the icy ground.
One hand is on the back of my head, holding me protectively to him, and I’m so exhausted and relieved that I let him.
He can do whatever he wants if he’ll just let me go inside to warm up.
“Mason!” He yells over my head, his deep voice is calm but I can hear the urgency in it. “Mason, I need help.” He sits up and pulls me upright onto his lap and starts looking at the bloody cut on my head, “Are you okay? How did this happen?”
My teeth are still chattering, and my lips are numb, but I stutter out, “M-My car slid off the r-road and I slipped and f-fell. P-Please, just let me w-warm up before you m-m-make me l-leave.” My head feels like it weighs fifty pounds, and I lean against his chest and let my eyes slide closed. Just for a minute.
“Mason!” His loud voice cuts through the fuzzy darkness that’s pushing in around the edges of my mind, and it makes me jump. “You’re alright, frostbite.” He mumbles and pulls my hood around my head to cover my face from the blowing sleet. “I’ve got ya.”
Everything in me relaxes. His voice is soft and soothing, and I just know he is going to make sure everything is okay.
Pulling my head away, I look up into hazel eyes, wanting to see if he is just as gorgeous as yesterday. “Y-you are.” I breathe and smile as I look over his face.
His eyebrows wrinkle together in confusion. “What?”
In my delirium, a chuckle bubbles from my chest. “You are the p-prettiest man I’ve ever s-seen, and just as strong as you l-look.”
Cocking an eyebrow, either at what I said or the slur in my voice, the edge of his mouth twitches a bit. The sound of a screen door slamming and many feet on a wooden porch behind us startle me and I let my head rest against his chest again. I can’t see anything, but I hear a lot of voices.
“Oh my God, who is that?
“Where’s her car?”
“Did she walk in this?”
“Don’t get on the ice, darlin’, you’ll slip and fall.” I remember that commanding tone from yesterday. It’s the voice of the other guy from the barn, and he’s right next to us. “Is she okay?” There’s concern in the voice that just yesterday was firm and laced with irritation.
“I don’t know, there’s a lot of blood on her face and she’s talking gibberish.” The big guy says over my head.
My hood is pulled back and the other guy is squatted next to us, his deep blue eyes are inspecting the cut, his eyebrows pulled together over his nose. “We need to get her inside. She looks hypothermic and she might have a concussion. Give her to me.”
The big guy lifts me like I weigh nothing to pass me to the other guy, but when they are both standing, he says, “Give her to me, I’ve still got my spikes on.” I’m juggled back to him and he pulls me close against his chest as they start slowly walking.
My muscles relax in his hold as I realize I’m going to be okay.
Blessed heat envelopes me as we walk through the door, but I can’t stop my teeth from chattering. The deep voice of the big guy over my head softly says, “Marley, honey, get some blankets, please. Sloane, go make one of your cups of hot chocolate, extra sugar.”
“Who’s that?” The voice of a young girl pierces the air.
“Help me out, pumpkin. Will you unbutton her coat while I unbutton mine?” His voice is soft and I can hear the affection that’s directed toward her.
“Okay.” I open my eyes to see the little girl who was leading the horse in the barn yesterday as he pushes my hood off my head.
He sits on the hearth of a gigantic fireplace with me still on his legs so my back is to the fire as he leans back to take his coat off.
I’m shaking so bad I can’t control my hands and the little girl smiles at me, “My dad will make sure you’re okay. ”
She’s so confident, and even in my hypothermic state, I’m envious of her trust and the obvious love and closeness between them. She gets the front of my coat open, and her dad pulls it off my shoulders and discards it to the floor.
When he unbuttons his flannel shirt, under normal circumstances, I might get a little worried, but I don’t have the energy to care. He pulls me against the thermal shirt on his hard chest after he opens the thermal he just unbuttoned. I practically melt into him, he’s so warm.
“Put your hands under my arms.” His gruff voice vibrates in his chest against my ear and I do as I’m told. He presses his hard biceps over my hands glued to his ribs at his sides.
With the fireplace at my back and his body heat on my front, the shaking turns into minor tremors after a short while. His large hands keep rubbing up and down my back in big sweeps to generate heat, and I’m getting so sleepy.
A woman with coal-black hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun squats next to us with a mug. She has the prettiest light green eyes, and her smile is just as warm as the chest against my cheek. “You think you can hold a mug? It’s warm and the cocoa will help warm you on the inside.”
Shifting myself on his lap, I hold my hands out and she carefully hands it off, making sure I can hold it before she lets go. A smaller woman with long blond hair in a French braid steps up behind the woman with black hair, she’s holding some blankets against her chest.
“You ready for these yet?” Her voice is soft and timid, and she’s looking at the cut on my head with concern.
The mug of cocoa smells delicious, and when the warm liquid slides down my throat, I hum in appreciation. She was right when she said it would warm my insides, but it’s making me even more sleepy.
“Good, isn’t it? It’s my mom’s recipe.” The green-eyed girl says with a smile and motions for me to keep drinking. “It’ll get you warm and the sugar will help you feel better.”
“Marley, will you wrap one of those around her shoulders?” The deep baritone in the big guys chest vibrates through me as he talks.
“Did you walk here?” The green-eyed woman asks.
A warm blanket is draped across my shoulders and covers my back and I nod. “My car slid off the road a couple of miles away.”
“You walked for miles in this?” Her eyebrows shoot halfway up her forehead in surprise and her eyes lift over my head to look at the person I’m sitting on.
The blond sits in an overstuffed leather chair with another blanket still clutched to her chest, “Gray, she’s probably exhausted, maybe we should let her lie down for a little bit.
” Her voice is soft and comforting, and I take a deep breath as the darkness shrouding my mind pulls me into comfortable darkness and my eyes start to droop.