Page 331 of Steamy Ever After

A gust of wind blows snow into my eyes, making them water.

Time to get out of this ditch.

On my climb out, I stumble and fall face-first into the snow more than once. The tip of my nose burns with the cold. My cheeks sting until I can't feel them anymore. My fingers go numb. Deep shivers rack my body.

I finally make it to the road and already question my sanity about leaving the vehicle. However, the Jeep will be my coffin if I stay.

It’s this, or nothing.

As I feared, the Jeep is completely hidden from view. No chance anyone will spot it. The snow completely encases the hazard lights and obliterates any sign of my skid.

Where the hell is that damn moose? If I die because I tried to save its life, there is going to be hell to pay.

I wrap my arms around myself to conserve body heat. My sneakers are damp, but I can’t do anything about that. Other than my rapid breathing, the night is almost tranquil. The snow sizzles as it falls, which feels all kinds of peaceful.

Except my survival is at stake.

Getting back to my feet, I stamp away the cold, urging circulation back into my frozen toes. At least there’s one positive in all this mess. I know which way to go, if not how far I have to hike.

Less than ten miles for certain.

Probably fewer than five.

I can do this.

As long as I keep to the road, and keep moving, I should reach Peace Springs within the hour.

Two at most.

Turning left, I take my first step. Head down, I turn into the wind and walk toward Peace Springs.

About an hour later, the wind kicks up. Each step becomes a chore. All I want to do is stop, curl up, and sleep. Not once do I see headlights. Nor do I see lights from farms or ranches on either side of the road. Open sky territory, there’s no sign of humanity.

That never happens in California.

Time drags. My molars knock against one another. The muscles of my jaw bunch with the constant chattering of my teeth. And my back—the small of my back tightens with each windy gust.

This is hell, but I don’t stop. I take another step, and then one more. My thoughts drift with the swirling snow, thinking back to another time. A situation I barely escaped. Hopefully, my poor choices, and Scott, will stay in my past.

A crackling of branches sounds to my left.

Did the moose return?

I wish I had a flashlight. Instead, I move to the center of the road.

More breaking branches; an animal smaller than a moose from the sound of it.

Like I’m some expert.

Okay then. Dog or coyote?

Dogs are friendly and not a threat. Coyotes tend to be skittish and scared of humans. As long as whatever’s moving in the brush isn’t a wolf, I’m happy to let it be.

Silence follows, and I breathe out, teasing myself for every flinch I make in response to the random noises of nature. Every little sound seems amplified, and that makes me jumpy.

An ear-piercing howl breaks the stillness. A deep wailing. It carries through the air and crashes against my ears, making my pulse race.

I come to a halt, heart jackhammering in my chest.

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