Page 38 of Stormswept Colorado

The air outside was frigid and bone dry. I opened the passenger door for her, and she climbed in, rubbing her arms over her coat to brush off the chill. Once I was in the driver’s seat, I turned to her. “So the storm is arriving sooner than we anticipated. The weather service updated the forecast and increased the snowfall estimate.”

“Right, your message said something about that. That’s why we’re leaving early.” Her fingers tugged at the zipper on her coat, a nervous gesture.

I studied her briefly, looking for other signs that she was still in distress. Her pulse had been going like mad earlier. Then I snapped myself out of it. She was waiting for me to speak. “The Department of Transportation is closing the mountain pass between us and Hartley. It’ll be blizzard conditions. Way too dangerous.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means it’ll be all but impossible for anyone else to get to Hartley who hasn’t already left.”

She jolted. “What? But?—”

“But I’ve got another route. Skirts the mountain and comes around another way. Here’s the thing, though. It’ll take three hours.” Also, my improvised route cut through a forest service road that wasn’t exactly open to the public. If anyone had questions about how we’d made it to Hartley with the pass closed, well…too bad. I wasn’t going to tell, and I doubted Ayla would either.

“Threehours?”

“Could be a little longer, depending on road conditions. We’ll get to Hartley after dark.”

“But wewillget there, right?”

“Absolutely.” I patted the steering wheel. “I’ve got 4-wheel drive and snow tires. I promised I’d get you to Hartley, and I’m a man of my word.”

She relaxed against the seat. “Okay. I’ll text Emma and Ashford so they know I’m still coming.”

“Sounds good.” I’d shared the rough contours of my plan with Susan. I was off duty for the rest of the weekend, though of course I’d be available on the radio or by phone if anyone needed me.

This wasn’t ideal. But during my years as a Special Forces operator, how often had ops gone exactly to our original plan? Rarely.

Ayla stared at the overcast sky through the window. “It’s not even snowing yet.”

“Nope, but the snow is coming. No question about that.” I turned on the engine. A haunting piano melody blasted through the sound system, and I quickly punched the button to turn off the stereo.

Ayla slowly turned to me. “That was one of my songs.”

“Was it? Must’ve been on the radio.” I put the SUV in gear.

“Looks like it was connected to your phone.”

I was so busted. “It’s one of those workout playlists. I lift weights in the mornings.”

“Interesting. My upbeat songs are popular for workout playlists, but that was a heartfelt ballad.”

“What can I say? I’m a sensitive guy.”

“You enjoy a literalandfigurative weight on your chest when you bench press?”

“See? You get me.”

A smile ghosted over her lips, and after she’d been so upset earlier, it was a relief to see.

I didn’t get flustered by anyone. But this woman… She did things to me.

First stop was food. Ayla had claimed she forgot to eat lunch. I didn’t believe that was the sole source of her stress and lightheadednessearlier. Not even close. But I wasn’t going to leave her hungry either.

Also, I could always eat.

“Do you have dietary restrictions?” I asked. “The travel stop on the highway out of town probably has an egg salad sandwich, but I can’t vouch for the expiration date. The Sunspot Cafe has all kinds of wraps but it’ll take half an hour for Betsy to make one.”

“I’ll eat whatever. Is there a drive-through?”

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