She opened her laptop and after she logged in, her script popped up on the screen. She quickly read over what she’d written last night before she went to sleep. It didn’t sound too bad, but something was missing. She just couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Perhaps if she kept going, it would come to her. She hoped.
Serena’s fingers moved rapidly over the keyboard. This screenplay might not be a serious drama, but it wasn’t slapstick comedy, either. It was filled with heart. For now, writing about a warm family with a central love story and a happily-ever-after made her happy. It was about a loving but complicated family that she wished she’d been a part of. In the future, she intended to work on screenplays with more serious scenarios.
She paused and smiled. Perhaps writing an award-worthy screenplay wasn’t as important as writing the story of her heart. Who knew, maybe it’d be prize-worthy after all. It might be a little zealous, but wasn’t that what dreams were meant for?
For now, she’d chosen a shopaholic heroine and her large, boisterous family. Her ex-boyfriend needed a wife to keep his wealthy grandmother from writing him out of her will and leaving it all to her favorite pet charity. The hero was all about getting the money and pretending to be what his grandmother wanted him to be that he missed the point that money couldn’t make you happy. And the heroine had to learn that a bigger wardrobe and a larger apartment wouldn’t change who she was and that she hasdto accept herself, blemishes and all.
The more Serena typed, the more she worried whether she was going in the right direction with the plotline. Still, she kept pushing forward one word at a time—one sentence after the next—
Knock. Knock.
She jumped. She’d been so involved in her script that she hadn’t heard anyone approach the door. Gizmo must have been sound asleep, too, because it wasn’t until the knock that he starting barking as he scrambled to the door.
Serena jumped to her feet. “Gizmo, quiet.”
The pup paused to look at her as though to ask why in the world he would want to be quiet when there was obviously an intruder on the premises. Immediately he went to his growl-bark, growl-bark stance.
“Who is it?” Jackson asked from behind her.
“I’m just about to find out—if I can get Gizmo to settle down.” She bent down and picked up the dog.
The pup gave her a wide-eyed stare but at least he quieted down. With him securely in one arm, she opened the door. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was another stranded person. “Can I help you?”
It was a man in a red snowsuit with a white cross on the left side. “I stopped to make sure you are okay.” He spoke English with a heavy German accent.
“We are.” She noticed how Jackson limped over to stand behind her. “Are you with the leasing company?”
“I’m not. I’m with the emergency crew working on clearing the avalanche, but they let us know that an American woman was staying here, and that you are by yourself, which I see you’re not.”
Jackson cleared his throat. “They must have cleared the road.”
Serena peered past the man, looking for his vehicle in the freshly shoveled driveway. There was no vehicle. Maybe he left it on the road, but she didn’t see it there, either. Surely the man didn’t walk here. This cabin was in the middle of nowhere and this wasn’t the weather for walking.
The man lifted his sunglasses and rested them on the top of his head. “Actually, I’m getting around on my snowmobile.”
As the wind kicked up, Serena said, “Why don’t you come inside?”
They moved back and let the man in the door. The man stepped forward just enough to close the door against the cold air. He was shorter than Jackson and had a much more stocky build. His face was tan, as though he spent a lot of time outside, and his eyes were kind.
The man cleared his throat. “The avalanche was bad. It has a stretch of road shut down until we can get equipment in to clear it.” The man glanced around. “I see they got the power fixed.”
“Not yet,” Serena said. “It’s a generator.”
The man nodded in understanding. “They are hoping to get the power restored to this area sometime today.”
Since this man seemed quite knowledgeable about their situation, she asked, “Do you know how long it will be until the road is open?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“The thing is, Mr. Bennett here was in a car accident and I need to get him to the doctor—”
“I’m fine,” Jackson interjected.
A concerned look came over the emergency worker’s face as he turned to Jackson. His gaze scanned him. “I’m trained in first aid. Why don’t you sit down on the couch and let me look at you. We can call in an emergency helicopter if we need to. It’ll be tricky under these conditions but not impossible.”
Jackson frowned. “I told you I’m fine.”
“And I would like to see this for myself.” The emergency worker gave him a pointed look.