Page 13 of An Avalanche Hero Christmas

Chapter Six

Stranger in the Snow

Her name was Julia, and he regretted the day he’d met her.

The sound of heavy banging on wood reached into the depths of Lance’s unconsciousness, dragging him out of his sleep. His eyes fluttered open. He lay in his bed, staring up at the dark, wooden ceiling. From the living room, he could hear the steady crackle of a fire and, beyond that, the howling of the wind. The smell of fish wafted into his nostrils.

The windows were shut, and the only source of light in his bedroom was a small lantern in the corner. Was it already daytime? Between the darkness and the fact that the blizzard outside had been going nonstop, it was hard to tell, but something had certainly woken him from his sleep.

He listened. There it was again, that banging. Lance’s first thought was that it was the wind causing one of the shutters on the cabin to bang shut, but something about the sound carried a note of urgency, even desperation.

He eased himself out of bed, naked from the waist up, and padded through the house into the living room as the banging continued. It wasn’t coming from the windows. Someone was at the door.

“Oh, hell,” Lance muttered.

Who could it be? He rarely spoke to anyone. This cabin was well-hidden in the woods, even more so by the blizzard raging outside. Who could be at the door?

The banging came again. His curiosity got the better of him, and he pulled the door open.

“Oh, hell.”

The first thing he registered was the blanket of white that spread across the landscape in front of him. The snow was coming down pretty fiercely, so much so that it was hard tomake out much else. But Lance saw the figure in his doorway with no difficulty.

“What the…?”

It was a woman, he realized. She stood nearly a foot shorter than him, her blonde hair almost completely white from the snow. Her eyes were wide, whether out of fear or desperation, and her lips were cracked. Lance let his gaze drop. A pair of gossamer wings were wrapped around the woman’s torso as if shielding her from the cold.

The woman’s lips parted. When she spoke, Lance couldn’t hear her voice over the wind, but he read the words from her lips.

“Help me.”

***

“Help me,” Mallory said, snapping him out of his reverie.

Lance blinked at her. She was struggling to climb the ledge he’d just cleared easily.

Days had gone by. Lance almost couldn’t believe it. By now, he should be sitting at home, enjoying his fish, prepared to remain holed up until after Christmas, but here he was, still trudging through the snow and with a fae woman no less.

They were still moving through the woods, which seemed to provide some cover. Over the past couple of days, he’d managed to gather some food, and Mallory’s condition was improving. But Lance thought they were moving too slowly. It was a wonder Boris hadn’t caught up to them.

“Help me,” Mallory said again with a grunt. “Please.”

Lance stared down at her. Her eyes were wide, her hair covered with some snow from the trees. For a very brief moment, he thought he saw someone else in those eyes.

She’s not Julia,he reminded himself.Don’t be ridiculous. That’s all in the past.

He stuck out a hand. She grabbed it, and he marveled at how delicate hers felt as he pulled her up onto the ledge. She lay in the snow for a moment, panting. Lance glanced around. The snow stretched as far as he could see. Beyond his line of sight, he suspected the mountain continued upward. For now, at least, they wouldn’t be doing any climbing.

“Let’s get going,” he said to Mallory.

But she simply sat up and leaned against the nearest tree. Her dark eyes roamed over him, settling for a fleeting second on his bare torso. “We’ve been walking all day. I’m exhausted. Can we stop for a bit?”

Boris isn’t stopping,he almost told her.

“Okay, but just for a few minutes. It’s almost evening. We need to cover more distance and find shelter before it gets dark.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.” She gave a mock salute and grinned. Lance didn’t grasp the meaning of her words, but he found himself smiling, too.

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