Finally I reach Snow Ridge, Montana. It's far north, colder than I want to be and definitely the last place they’d look for me. Anyone who knows me knows I hate the cold, so this is perfect for the time being. In three months, I’ll be twenty-two and my family inheritance will be mine.
There are no rooms available at the hotel so close to Christmas, so I'm stuck in my car. A part of me wants to contact the woman on the paper, but I’m too nervous. It’s foolish to travel this far north. Tomorrow, I'll have to move on. There's no way I'll survive this weather in my car. I pull off and find a spot that seems to have less wind and out of sight. Falling asleep is going to be difficult, but I keep my heat on and lights off as I pass out in my backseat.
I don't know how long I've been passed out when I startle at the knocking on the window. Oh God. Please tell me it's not my dad or his men. I peek out and see a man and woman younger than my dad, but at least a decade older than me.
I lower the window a crack to see what they want. "Sweetheart, have you no place to go?" the woman asks. I shake my head and answer, "No one has a room."
"You'll about die of hypothermia by morning. We're in for a storm soon. Follow us to our home. Is there anyone else with you?" I shouldn’t be this trusting, but she might be right.
"No.” My teeth begin to chatter. I step out of the car so I can move back into the driver's seat. I get a better look at them and they seem genuinely concerned.
"Oh my God. He needs a beating, whoever he is,” the man growls.
"Have you been to the doctor?" the woman asks. My face aches, but it’s because I’m not comfortable. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in days.
"No, but I'm fine. It's been days, and I'd rather not be asked for identification." A look of understanding comes over their faces.
"Well, follow us in and we'll give ya a place to sleep tonight."
“Um…” I don’t even know their names.
“Sorry. We’re all trying to get you to come with us without even knowing our names. I’m John Morrison, and this beauty is my wife, Louisa.” Oh my. Can she really be the woman? From what I can remember, they do have a resemblance.
“Would you have a relation named Marisa?”
“I do. Oh my goodness. Are you the one she mentioned?”
“I didn’t think she’d tell you my name.”
“No, she didn’t, but that she gave a young woman running from someone my address.”
“I don’t want to put you out. I’m just trying to get away. I hate the cold, so this would be the last place they would look for me.”
“My sister didn’t mention your name. Can you at least tell me your first name?”
“Ava. I appreciate any hospitality. It’s been a rough five days.”
“Of course, darling. Follow us.”
"Thank you," I stutter through the cold.
I follow them back to a nice house a few miles away that’s the address on the paper.
"Come in, Ava. Welcome to our home. I'm going to get you some blankets. The sofa is extremely comfortable and long enough for your tiny self." She walks quickly, coming back a moment later with a large comforter and a pillow. "You probably won't need these, but just in case."
"Our small children are with my parents right now, so we were out Christmas shopping and then we went on a date."
"I'm sorry that I'm interrupting your night."
"God, no. It's not a big deal. I'll just put my hand over her mouth,” John says, grabbing her waist.
"John," she says, slapping his arm. Looking at me, she adds, "Sorry about him. He has no manners."
"That's okay." I accidentally let out a yawn. "I'm sorry."
"No, we woke you up." She reaches up and touches the side of my face near my black eye. I flinch, then relax. "The bastard. I'm not a doctor, but even I can see that you're in a lot of pain. I do have some Advil or Tylenol."
"Either would be great." I sigh. "I can't thank you two enough for your kindness." She leaves the room to get the meds.
"So you're from Indiana?" John asks.
"I am, but I don't ever plan to go back. I need to find a place to live temporarily." They are nice, but I’m not ready to reveal my life story. If she didn’t give her sister my name, that means they don’t know who I really am. Not that I’m special, but my dad is a famous Federal Attorney.
"Snow Ridge is a fantastic place to live,” he adds.
"Do you think there's a place that is willing to hire under the table? I know that's terrible, but if my name is out there, they might come for me." I’m almost in tears. Damn it. I’m losing it. There’s a chill running through my body.