Page 3 of Snowed In with Four Firemen
“Come on, Emily, keep it together,” I whisper to myself, trying to calm the rising fear. But my voice wavers.
The car’s tires slip slightly as the road begins to incline again, and I feel the back end fishtail for a heart-stopping moment before I manage to steady it. The snow is piling up fast, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m one wrong move away from skidding off the road entirely.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. The weather was supposed to hold, the road was supposed to be safe, and I was supposed to make it to Mt. Snowlodge without any problems. But now, with the blizzard bearing down on me, all those assumptions feel laughably naive.
I try to remember what the podcast said about mountain storms, but the details are a blur. Something about unpredictability, about how quickly things can change up here. I should’ve been more prepared, should’ve taken it more seriously. I should have asked Hailey to send someone, anyone, even Jace, to come bring me up to the mountain lodge. I don’t even remember the last time I drove this high up a mountain. I’m such an idiot.
The tires lose traction, and the car starts to spin before I can react. The world outside blurs into a dizzying swirl of white and gray. My heart leaps into my throat, and I yank the steering wheel in a desperate attempt to regain control, but it’s no use. The car has a mind of its own now, skidding across the icy road.
The car veers sharply to the right, and I feel a sickening lurch in my stomach as it leaves the road entirely. There’s a moment of terrifying weightlessness, as if time has slowed down, and then the car hits something—a snowbank, I think—and everything jerks violently to one side. The seatbelt digs painfully into my shoulder as the car tilts and slides down an embankment, the tires crunching through deep snow.
I brace myself, every muscle tensed, but there’s no stopping it now. The car finally comes to a jarring halt, wedged against a small tree, the front end buried in snow. The impact rattles through me, and for a moment, everything is still except the pounding of my heart and the sound of my own ragged breathing.
I sit there, stunned, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my hands ache.
This can’t be happening. And yet, it’s my reality. I crane my neck but see nothing but snow. I’m trapped here for good.
CHAPTER 2
AXEL
The humof the engine fills the cabin as we wind our way up the mountain in my truck, a sleek, black Ford F-450 Platinum—a beast of a machine with every bell and whistle money can buy. Raffle, my German shepherd, is sprawled out on the back seat, his big head resting between Jace and Tanner. The guys are all crammed in, but no one’s complaining. We’ve been through tighter spaces, and besides, the mood’s light.
“Man, that last drill was brutal,” Tanner says, stretching his legs out as much as he can in the cramped back seat. “I thought Axel was gonna pass out halfway up that ridge.”
I scoff, throwing a glance over my shoulder. “Please. I could’ve run up that thing twice as fast if I wasn’t busy making sure you didn’t fall on your face.”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” Tanner shoots back with a grin. “Next time, I’ll bring a stopwatch and prove it.”
Jace laughs, shaking his head. “Come on guys, we’re a team. We’re not supposed to be bickering like a bunch of rookies.”
“Hey, what’s a little friendly competition?” I say, my eyes still on the road as I navigate another curve. “Keeps us sharp. Besides, you know Tanner lives for this kind of trash talk. It’s what gets him out of bed in the morning.”
Tanner leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Damn right. Can’t let you guys get too comfortable.”
Raffle thumps his tail against the seat, as if he’s agreeing with Tanner. The dog’s always been good at picking up on our moods, and right now, he’s as relaxed as we are. Yes, the training was absolutely brutal, but that’s what drives me, makes me get out of bed every morning. I know the others feel the same.
Tanner nudges Raffle playfully, and the dog responds with a low, contented growl, thumping his tail against the seat. “You’re lucky you’ve got Raffle here to keep you warm, Jace,” Tanner jokes. “Wouldn’t want you catching a cold before the big day.”
Jace rolls his eyes, grinning. “Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you clowns show up tomorrow to help me out, alright? I don’t want to be dealing with my sister alone.”
“Hailey isn’t a bridezilla,” I say.
“You’re saying that because you don’t know what she can do.” I catch him rolling his eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Any girl, really, when her wedding is threatened,” Ben replies. I’m surprised when he speaks because he’s been quiet for the past half an hour or so. Nothing unusual. He likes to keep to himself.
“Seriously, guys, I need you there, all of you,” Jace says.
“Don’t worry, Jace,” Tanner chimes in from the passenger seat, turning to shoot Jace a smirk. “We’ll be there bright and early. Or, you know, bright and hungover.”
I chuckle, eyes on the road as I navigate another sharp turn. The road’s getting steeper, the trees thicker as we climb higher. “No promises, man,” I say, glancing at Jace in the rearview mirror. “Might just sleep in and let you deal with it solo.”
Jace snorts, but I can tell he’s a little tense about the wedding. Can’t blame him. Family stuff’s always complicated, especially when it’s your baby sister getting married.
“You know,” he says, leaning forward, “I’m just saying, we should be getting hazard pay for the crap we went through today. What kind of sadist puts us through that kind of drill right before my sister’s wedding?”
“Welcome to the life of a Hotshot,” I reply, smirking. “We signed up for this. You’ve been around long enough to know they don’t give us any breaks, even if we’ve got weddings to go to. Especially then.”
