Page 3 of Snowed In With the Grizzly

“Goddamn woman driver!” the other driver screams, face purple.

“I’m sorry!” My voice comes out as a squeak. “There’s no damage to your car though.”

“What the hell were you doing?” His voice is getting louder.

“I said I’m sorry!”

“She was reversing, you jerk-off!” Charlie’s voice cuts through, loud and clear as she darts over to join me. “Which you would’ve seen if you were paying attention!”

He growls and snarls a bunch, but Charlie is already pulling me back to the car.

“Don’t worry about him,” she says, squeezing my hand until I quit shaking.

Thanks, sis,” I say, beyond touched. “But, Charlie Anderson, where on earth did you learn language like that?”

She flips her ponytail. “At school,” she replies nonchalantly. I blow out a breath of relief, then laugh. She’s sassier than me. Better able to handle our dad.

I park up in the lot and we take a minute to sip the hot chocolates, staring out at the morning traffic as it snakes through the snow.

“You don’t have to go through with this,” she says.

“Huh?” I lick foam off my upper lip.

“Thearrangement.We can just leave—”

“No.” I cut her off. “It’s decided.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her body slump. When her eyes meet mine again, they’re glistening with tears. “Have fun this weekend, Rowan. Make the most of every moment. You deserve it, more than anyone.”

I blink back tears of my own. “C’mere.” I pull her into my arms and hug her hard. “Don’t worry about me. I’m tough, and I’ll be back soon.”

She shudders. “But you’ll be—” She doesn’t finish the sentence.

Imprisoned.

Living in another town.

The property of Vincent DiMarco.

I have no idea how often we’ll be able to see each other. But she’ll be free, and that’s what counts.

“I love you, Charl,” I whisper.

“I love you too, big sis. And say hello to grandma.”

I close my eyes for a beat. Charlie didn’t get to spend much time with Grandma Jo. I’ll always be sad that she didn’t get to know her better. But I’m so touched by the way she talks about her and always wants to hear stories about the times we spent together.

* * *

I turnedoff the engine while I let Charlie out of the car and hugged her goodbye, and now it’s struggling to start.

“Come on, old girl,” I mutter, counting to ten before I try again. I’m already an hour later than I planned to be—Vrooom!… it roars to life at last.

Thank goodness.Relief pours through me. I step on the gas and drive off before anything else can go wrong.

I’ll be fine. I should still arrive in Wilder’s Edge before the storm hits. I put my all-time favorite playlist on the stereo, turn up the heat, and hit the road.

I’m dreaming about getting to the cabin, settling in, and cooking some dinner. I can’t wait to see the old place again. Last time I was there, I was sixteen, and that week with Grandma Jo was the happiest week of my life. My mom died when I was eight, and my dad wasn’t on good terms with his mother-in-law, so I didn’t see much of her when I was growing up. But this week arrived in my life like a gift. My dad was away on business and his hired help quit on him, so he sent me to Wilder’s Edge instead.

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