Page 18 of A Forgotten Heart
No food. No wood. No help.
Her heels clicked on the floorboard as she hurried toward the front window. The drifting snow rippled down the boardwalk in front of the clinic, but a wall of white blocked her view.
If the storm lasted more than another few hours, she and Nick would be in serious trouble.
There was a café across the street, past the town square. It was less than a block away—but it might as well be a mile in a blizzard like this.
What if the owner or a cook had hunkered down at the café? She could find food. And help.
Decision made, she grabbed her scarf and wrapped it around her head and then pushed her arms into her coat sleeves.
She pulled her gloves out of her pocket, now dry but stiff with Nick’s blood. She grimaced and glanced over at Nick’s coat. Nick’s gloves were a much better choice.
She pulled them on but stilled, the felt inner lining familiar against her skin. Not so long ago, she and Nick would take walks together, even in the cold. Once, or twice maybe, she’d forgotten her gloves.
When he’d noticed, he’d taken her hands in his and blown warmth over them before sliding his gloves over her fingers. She could almost feel his hand wrapping around hers. Feel the swoop of her stomach at the warm intensity in his eyes.
She gave a quick shake of her head to rid herself of the memory.
She must hurry. Find help before Nick woke.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she opened the clinic door. A blast of wind caught the door and nearly whipped it out of her hand. She pulled it closed with both hands.
The squall grabbed her skirts and whipped them around like a sail, nearly yanking her off her feet. This was a bad idea. But what choice did she have?
She leaned into the wind and held her scarf with both hands to keep it from blowing away. Trudging toward the end of the boardwalk, she misjudged the end, and her foot sank deep into the fresh powder. It threw off her balance, and she stumbled forward.
The snow whirled around her like a cyclone as she trudged across the street.
She should be nearing the square by now, but all she could see was white.
She looked over her shoulder to judge how far she’d come, but the clinic had disappeared behind a wall of white.
Disoriented, she stilled on the spot, her pulse skittered in her neck. Was she lost?
She searched to the right and to the left. The world had evaporated into a storm so thick she thought it might smother her. Even her footprints had already been covered.
Oh, God. Help.
She moved forward, step by step, until her shins slammed into the boardwalk. She’d made it!
Brown planks of a building materialized out of the white. With one hand on the building, she followed the wall until she came to a door. When it opened, the wind shoved her body through it.
Every muscle fiber shivered as she scanned the shadowed room. Tables and chairs. A serving counter.
The restaurant.
But it only took a moment to register that the building was vacant. Cool air swirled around her feet. It was barely warmer in here than outside.
Some of the tables hadn’t been wiped clean, and a few chairs looked as if someone had simply gotten up and walked away. Like they’d been in too big of a hurry to tidy up.
The scent of bread lingered in the air, and her stomach growled.
“Hello?” she called.
No answer.
She wasn’t one for fanciful imaginings, but it felt a bit as if she were the only one left in town.
