Page 5 of Snowed In with Three Mountain Men

“Where didyou hear the sound of the crash?” I ask as we pause in the doorway—conditions are already bad out there, and I want to know what direction we’re heading in if the snow has already gotten too bad for us to see through.

“West, next to the river,” Callum shoots back curtly. I can tell he’s struggling with this. He hates anything that disrupts the routine we’ve built here, and the storm is bad enough in its own right. This? This is beyond what we could have expected. But there’s no way I’m going to turn my back on someone who might need help in the midst of this snowstorm, and despite Dax’s protestations, I know that he wouldn’t either.

“We’ll cut through the trees, keep some of the wind chill off us,” I reply. “Follow the edge of the river down to the road, and we’ll head up and down the sides until we find it.”

Both my brothers nod sharply, and the three of us take off into the woods—Callum leads the way, falling in line with the ice-covered river, his boots crunching through the snow as the snow falls in flurries around us. It’s one of the worst storms I’ve ever seen in the four or so years since we came to this place, andanyone out in it without the correct protective clothing is going to be in serious trouble before long.

The night has already settled in, the dark studded by the white snowflakes around us—pretty, but lethal. You can’t take your eye off the ball for a minute when it comes to shit like this. The weather can turn on you and you’ll be trapped. The way we’re dressed, even if we get cut off from the cabin or lost, we’ll be okay for a few hours, but I still don’t like being out here in the dark and cold.

Hero complex,an ex of mine once called it. Said that I got it from being part of the SEALs, this urge to help people, to serve a unit and make sure we achieve our goals. Maybe she was right. I never could just turn my back on someone, even when it probably would be smarter for me to do just that. I don’t even want to think what kind of idiot would have been driving these narrow, winding roads in such bad weather, but whoever they are, they better have a damn good reason for it.

We follow the ditch of the river along to the road—it takes us a little more than ten minutes, and the snow is already biting at the small amount of exposed skin on my cheeks and lips. It aches like hell, but I ignore it as we emerge from the cover of the woods and out onto the roadside.

Pulling out my flashlight, I shine it up and down the immediate area—nothing. No sign of any car. We’re at the top of a hill that leads down into the valley below, and visibility is limited.

“Spread out!” I call to the two of them. “Dax, down the hill, Callum, up. I’ll check here to make sure they haven’t crashed into the river…”

We split up, Dax making his way down the hill as quickly as he can—he still carries a slight limp on his left leg, and I can’t imagine the cold is making it any easier for him. I’m not exactly pleased that Callum goaded him into coming with us by bringing it up, but the more of us here, the better. I don’t know what we’re going to be up against, how many people we might find and what kind of care we’ll have to apply to them, and the more hands on deck, the easier it’ll be.

I cut into the woods on the other side of the road, casting my light around, though I can’t see much—the light bouncing off the snow, my footsteps and labored breathing the only sound I can make out. We’re losing light fast, and that dull glow from the snow is stretching out in front of me for what looks like miles?—

And then, I hear something. It takes me a moment to place what it is, but then it hits me. It’s Dax, calling for the two of us.

I rush out of the forest to find that Callum has heard the same thing, and Dax waves his flashlight in the air to attract us to the beam.

“I’ve found her!”

Her—crap, a woman out here alone…

Callum and I make our way down the icy road as quickly as we can, doing our best not to lose our footing. Last thing we need is another injury to make this even more difficult than it already is.

And sure enough, Dax is right—he’s standing next to a sleek black car, or at least, what once was a sleek black car. It slid off the road, by the look of it, and into the trunk of a large birch tree by the side of the road—lucky it wasn’t something sturdier, or else the driver would have been in real trouble. I reach Dax’s side, and the look on his face tells me that something is off.

“What is it?” I demand as I stride toward the car.

“There’s a girl in there,” he shoots back. “And she’s wearing a…”

“Wedding dress.”

I finish up his sentence before he can, shining my flashlight on the passenger of the vehicle. Sure enough, there’s a woman inside, and she’s wearing a white gown—it’s smudged with dirt in a few places, but other than that, it looks pristine, as though it’s never been worn before. A heavy veil has fallen into her face, and she’s slumped over to the side, toward the passenger seat and away from the window.

What the fuck is someone doing in a wedding dress out here, at this time of night, in this weather? No way she’s heading to the ceremony. Maybe she’s running away from it…

But that’s not our problem. Our problem is the fact that she’s not dressed for this blizzard, and she’s unconscious.

“We need to get her back to the cabin and warmed up,” I instruct Dax as Callum catches up to me. I push my flashlight into his hand, and pull off my jacket.

“What are you doing?” Dax demands, a frown creasing his forehead.

“That window’s nearly giving out,” I reply, nodding to the one on the passenger side. “I’m going to break it, and open the lock from the inside. Stand back…”

Dax and Callum step away on instinct, and I draw my fist back and slam it into the glass—it’s already spiderwebbed with cracks from the crash, and it doesn’t take more than a couple of blows to get it loose. It falls inside the car in one piece, landing nextto the passenger, and I quickly put my coat back on and reach across to flick the lock.

She nearly tumbles from the car at the sudden shift, and Dax races around to catch her before she hits the snow—she’s out cold, and doesn’t wake even as she lands heavily in his arms.

“Fuck,” he growls as Callum and I move to join him. I reach for the veil and pull it back—the woman’s dark hair has escaped from whatever wedding updo it was in, and it’s sticking to her face, which is smattered with cuts and scrapes from the crash. I can’t see any immediately concerning wounds, but then, it’s not like it would be easy to tell at a glance.

“Hello?” I call to her, tapping her face slightly—no response. I part her lips and shine my torch into her mouth and throat, making sure there’s nothing stuck in there, as Dax awkwardly holds her up. She hasn’t choked on anything, thank God, and when I press my fingers to the side of her neck, I can feel a strong pulse…

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