My brothers kept talking about it being Ma’s last Christmas, and frankly, I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about how frail she’d become or how she was a shell of herself. I didn’t want to think about the treatments that took her hair from her.
Rose had taken her out wig shopping, which led to a few weeks of my normally composed mother dabbling with various hair colors attempting to ‘reclaim’ herself from the disease. But even that I found lacked any true humor or happiness.
Forrest called me a Debbie Downer, and Beau told me I needed to get my head out of my ass, so I took that as both of them telling me to fuck off. So, that was my plan for the weekend.
I’d spend it alone, in the cabin at the back end of our property that lingered on the border of the resort’s land, and ride until I rode out the restless energy building inside of me every time I thought of what was going to happen eventually.
The longer I rode, the heavier the weather became. Snow drifted down in thick clumps, slowly whiting out my vision despite the led headlights. I steered through the first pass leading toward the cabin when a crack of thunder above me seemed to shake the ground.
What followed was a growl that left me skidding to a stop as I turned quickly in my seat and watched in shock as the rumble of thunder sent the heavy piles of snow at the top of the cliffs break free and collapse onto the road.
After that, it was a domino effect, and more snow piled onto the road I’d just been on, the gust of powder flying toward me in a blast of wind. Squinting into the darkness, I made out the thick shape ahead of me and instantly knew there was no going back that way. Not until they got a plow out here and cleared it.
Frankly, I should’ve known better. Living in this mountainous area, I’d grown up learning which roads to avoid in the winter because they tended to be snowed over. They weren’t major routes, so they weren’t tended to in the same way the old highway was since it was the main road to the busy resort.
But, being that these roads weren’t clear as much, they made for great roads to ride on, and being a bit of an adrenaline junkie, I tended to run toward danger, not away from it.
With no way else to go but forward, I twisted back around in my seat and took off again, hoping the second pass was cleared too. Driving like the Devil himself was on my heels, I shredded the fuck out of the road and made it to the pass when I slammed on my brakes, staring in horror at the blocked road.
Now what?
Another crack of thunder went off above me, and I turned my gaze to the sky, watching the swirling snow light up as lightning crackled behind it. Thundersnows weren’t unusual, but they weren’t common either. What the hell were the chances one would hit tonight and close this road?
I was starting to think I had the worse damn luck in the world.
The cabin was north-west of here, so I was grateful I, at least, had the foresight to ride out to it instead of drive. Guiding my sled off the road and down the shoulder toward the trees, something dark caught my attention.
Squinting in the darkness, I steered the snowmobile closer when I realized it was a car. Parking it, I quickly climbed off and stepped toward it. It was unlikely someone was in there, but it was better to be sure than just go off and leave someone in need.
Reaching the door, I tugged on it and found it locked. Wiping the snow off the window, I tugged my glove off before pulling my phone out and switching the flashlight on. I set it against the glass to see inside, and as I got closer to look, a face appeared, scaring the demons out of me.
“Juniper Danvers?”
june
Growing up,my siblings and I always thought my dad was crazy for insisting on always having a candle in the emergency car kit. He swore it was necessary in case you ever got snowed in—exactly like I was now.
And, to my complete and utter surprise, when I woke and found my car dead, it was the three-wick 36-hour candle that conducted enough heat to bring the car back to a normal temperature, for now.
As I started to get out of the car to go and find help, a rumble I knew all too well echoed around me, and I barely had time to scramble back in before a mound of snow came off the cliffs. It landed on my car, blocking me in and any escape that I might’ve had.
Jostling the door a couple times confirmed there was no way it was opening against all this snow. I determined I was stuck with a capital S. The last thing I expected less than ten minutes later was a face I hadn’t seen since high school, capable of making me colder than these six feet of snow, staring back at me through the window.
“Juniper Danvers?”
He recognized me. That was even worse because, for the last twelve years, I’d spent all this time trying to recover from him, expecting that he had completely forgotten me the way assholes are wont to do. But no, he had to remember me, and that pissed me off more than being caught in a landslide of snow.
“This is your fucking fault!” I shouted through the window, greeted by his wide, alarmed eyes as he pulled back from the window slightly. “I was fine before you showed up, and then, of course, here you are avalanching into my life and ruining everything—again!”
He reeled a moment longer before he leaned in closer again, lifting his phone and blinding me with its light.
“You’re bleeding.” He stated drolly before glancing back at his snowmobile. “I think I have a glass breaker in my emergency kit. I’ll go get it.”
“NO!” I shouted, realizing I, too, had one in mine.Ugh, moron. “I have one. Get away. You’ve done enough.”
He looked thoroughly confused but stepped back anyway and waited as I twisted out from under the mylar blanket I was curled in and dug through the kit to find it. Gripping the hammer, I did exactly how my dad showed me and tapped the glass once, then again, and watched it splinter. The third puncture would do the trick, so I lifted the blanket to cover my face before smashing it the final time.
When I opened my eyes again, he was back in my face, holding out a hand. “Let me help.”