Page 114 of Sleigh Bells and Snowstorms
I narrowed my eyes, peering through the early dawn light. The road had disappeared. The only sign of its existence was the space between the trees.
“Can you manage?” I asked.
She nodded. “You must be freezing.”
“I’ll be all right once we get moving.”
We set out, past the mostly buried vehicles, toward the road. The fresh snow was soft and the drifts uneven, making it hard to keep a straight path. Although the howling wind of the previous night had died down, gusts still whistled through the trees and bit at my exposed skin.
It didn’t take long for our legs to ache from both exertion and the cold. The snowfall grew heavier, making it hard to see very far ahead or keep track of the road. I had to stop and squint, looking around to make sure I didn’t lose our way.
Finally, we spotted it. The top half of my car stuck out in the midst of all the white. As I’d suspected, it was too buried to get us anywhere. It was going to be difficult enough just getting inside.
“I wish there’d been something in the cabin to help us dig,” she said. “Although I guess I should be grateful for the snowshoes.”
“Indeed. I’ll need the gloves if I’m going to do this without frostbite. Just keep your hands tucked in your pockets.”
She gave me the gloves, and I set to work, digging my way through the snow.
Movement kept me warm, although it was impossible not to get wet. But I wasn’t worried about myself. Natalie hadn’t uttered a word of complaint, but I knew she was sore and cold. Concern for her and determination to get her to safety edged out everything else. I didn’t care if I broke my body doing it. I was going to get her home.
After what felt like an eternity of digging, I was able to wedge the driver’s side door open. Since Natalie was smaller, she crawled in and retrieved her coat, plus another hat and set of gloves. She found her phone, although it didn’t have a signal any more than mine did.
“All those presents,” she said with a laugh as we traded coats. “They seemed so important yesterday. Now I just want to get home.”
I gave her the dry set of gloves and tried to ignore the fact that the wind was increasing again. “It won’t be long, now.”
“I hope not. And I hope the highway is open once we get there.”
“One thing at a time.” I gave her a quick kiss, although my lips were numb. “Ready?”
“Let’s do this.”
Leaving my car behind, we headed out again. Hunkered against the wind, we trudged along. Sometimes our snowshoes kept us on top of the snow. Other times, we’d step and be up to our thighs in a powdery drift. More than once, I had to help Natalie climb out of a deep spot.
I glanced at her regularly as we hiked, making sure she could keep up. I could see the toll it was taking on her. She was still injured from the bloody car accident, and I had no doubt Julian had been rough when he’d shoved her in his car.
Fucker.
At least he was dead.
The wind picked up, blasting snow in our faces. Natalie stumbled forward, and I reached out, catching her before she fell.
“Sorry,” she said through chattering teeth. “My legs are so numb.”
I checked my phone, but still no signal. “Just a little farther, darling. You can make it.”
She nodded. Snowflakes clung to her eyelashes, and her cheeks were pink from the cold. I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted to bring her home.
I held out my arm, and she took it. With her clinging to me, we kept going. Our existence was reduced to the struggle to lift each leg and put it in front of us, one step at a time.
Natalie’s foot sank into soft snow, and she tumbled forward, almost taking me down with her. I crouched and scooped her up, helping her to her feet.
She didn’t say anything, but tears gathered in her eyes.
My chest felt like it might burst with determination and rage. And something else. Something bigger than both combined.
Love.
