Page 66 of Wind Valley

She nodded, though with a wry smile. “As much as I love the idea of you, me, and a snowstorm, I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t let Pinky know I’m back. He’s been through so many storms, it’s probably no big deal for him. But he’ll be worried about me.”

“Let’s go, then. My truck’s out back.”

They both took a deep breath and plunged into the storm. The snow was coming down thick and fast now. They were both quiet as he drove, focused on the road, the darkness, the snow, and any potential surprises in their path. He had to stick to low beams. Even though the high beams illuminated more of the road, they also lit up every snowflake and reduced the visibility into essentially a couple of feet. He rolled his shoulders to release the tension gathering in his neck. If they slid off the road, or missed a turn and wound up in the forest, there’d be no way to call for help. They’d be stuck until someone came by.

But when he glanced over at Maura to see if she was okay, he discovered that her eyes were shining and a smile hovered around the corners of her mouth. “You’re okay?” he asked, just for confirmation.

“Very much so. There’s no way SS is getting from the hot springs to here during the storm. I haven’t felt this safe in a long time.”

“We’re in a blizzard,” he reminded her. “Near a remote ridge in the middle of the wilderness.”

Smiling, she said, “Yes, isn’t it wonderful? I’m absolutely, completely safe here.”

35

The light from Pinky’s house shone like a beacon through the dark snowy forest. As they stepped inside, the mouthwatering smell of roasting meat greeted them. Pinky sat by the woodstove, holding a skewer through the open window of the stove. The three cats were all watching intently for their chance at a treat.

“Maura, is that you?” he said in amazement, as she crouched next to him to give him a hug. “Thought you’d stay back in the civilized world until this storm passed.”

“Well, it turns out that reports of it being civilized are greatly exaggerated.”

“Huh?”

“I’d rather be here,” she explained. “Lachlan too. Is that okay?”

Pinky grinned at them both in delight. “Only got a few more sausages, but we can share what I got.”

“That’s okay, it smells great, but we had some soup at The Fang.”

Pinky’s open face clouded over at the reminder. “You were right, someone was asking lots of questions about you.”

“I heard about that. I’m sorry, Pinky. I’d better tell you what it’s all about, now that we’ve got nothing but time.” She gestured at the snow outside the windows.

While Lachlan forged back into the blizzard to use the outhouse, she sat cross-legged on the floor next to Pinky and told him the whole story.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but I really hate talking about that man,” she told him regretfully. “It gets me angry every time he takes up my time and my attention.”

“I knew something was up. No reason for you to be out here if there wasn’t.”

She detected wistfulness in his voice. “That’s not true. I really did want to reconnect with you. It was more of a two-birds-with-one-stone situation.”

“Terrible phrase,” Pinky muttered. “Bloodthirsty.”

Oh Pinky. She really did love her grandfather. “Sorry, I’ll rephrase that. It was a win-win. Two good things in one.”

Pinky’s blue eyes watered. “So you gonna leave now that he found you?”

“I can’t leave now. Did you see the snow out there?” She laughed it off, but her grandfather’s serious expression didn’t shift. “I don’t know what I’m going to do next. But we do have a few days to figure it out, with this blizzard.”

Lachlan came back in, stomping snow off his boots. “I’ve never seen snow that heavy. Half an inch fell while I was in the outhouse.”

“Mind bringing some more wood from the shed while you got your coat on?” asked Pinky. “Thought I had enough but it’s going fast.”

Maura saw that the hopper held only three pieces of firewood, and was glad all over again that they’d made it to Pinky’s. Had he forgotten to stock up? Was he planning to brave the blizzard for more? He was in his seventies. Maybe it was getting harder to do such things, and to remember that they needed to be done.

Lachlan brought one armload of wood after another into the arctic entry, where Maura ferried them to the pile next to the stove. Pinky roasted more sausages until he had a plateful. He split one between the three cats, and tossed another to Newman, who didn’t have to budge from his dog bed to gulp it from the air.

They all sat together, enjoying the flames, and the feeling of being safe in a cocoon in the middle of the dark vastness, until Pinky interrupted the drowsy silence.

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