Trapped with the Blizzard (3 page)

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Authors: Adele Huxley

Tags: #Romantic winter thriller

BOOK: Trapped with the Blizzard
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I looked up into the dark, starless sky. Fat flakes floated in the calm wind and my mind returned once more to the monster storm flirting with Tellure Hollow. The forecast said we were supposed to get a couple inches of fresh powder, which would be great news for the dismal season totals. A low groan came from the backseat of our SUV. Bryan and I shared a knowing moment as our eyes met.

“When Jack turns twelve, I’m shipping him off to boarding school. I hope you realize this,” I said.

“Whatever you say, darling,” he said as we walked towards the car.

We folded Dani into the back of the truck before I climbed into the passenger seat. I smiled at the pair as Bryan secured Jack in his car seat. I thought my love for that man was as deep as it could ever get and then we had Jack… seeing them together made my heart ache with so much love.

“You aren’t just placating me, right?” I asked with a smirk.

“Oh baby, you know my motto now. Happy wife, happy life,” he replied through the open door.

As he put his foot up to climb in, a shout rang out in the street. We both looked up in alarm to see a couple running towards the building behind us.

“There’s smoke!”

I opened the door and leaned out, my heart already thumping.
I’m sure it’s just someone’s fireplace…
I tried to reassure myself as I looked. But no. Thick smoke poured from the gaps around Freddy’s front door, Walt’s shop. “Walt!” I cried.

I jumped out just as Bryan sprinted towards the side entrance. “I’ll get him.”

Bryan didn’t give me a chance to protest. Within seconds, he’d unlocked the door with our spare key and disappeared up the stairs. I stood helpless as I watched the smoke grow thicker by the second. I held onto the frame of the car with an iron grip as if I could physically will the two men from the building if I stared hard enough.

Hope, a waitress from the Gritty Cask across the road, appeared at my side. With only a T-shirt on, she hugged herself in the cold. “I called the fire department, but with all the snow…”

Her comment pulled me from the daze. I took a hard look at Main Street and realized there was no space for the trucks to come in. “And the roads must be terrible,” I muttered, completing my thought aloud. “Can you help me clear a path? They should come from that way,” I said to Hope.

“Yeah, yeah sure,” she replied dreamily. Normally fire inspires panic, but she looked to be in shock. “It’s crazy how this keeps happening, huh?”

“Totally,” I said. I jumped into the car and fished out my own keys, looking at the duo strapped in the backseat. “We’re just gonna pull forward a little, okay guys?” Jack was nodding off in his car seat while Dani merely groaned. “And don’t either of you piss yourselves. Momma’s got bigger problems to deal with right now.”

I parked the car on the opposite side of the street and barked orders at the gathering crowd. “You gotta move that tent, now! Who owns that van? Come on, people, it’s parked in front of the fire hydrant!”

With the sirens in the distance, Bryan and Walt emerged from the side door and I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Bryan struggled to keep Walt from running back in the nearly engulfed building. Together, we held him back and held him up while his whole world burned.

“Why are they doing this?” I asked rhetorically.

“I wonder how much the prick will say it’s worth,” Walt said, before spitting into the snow.

 

 

With the weather and the crowds, it took the fire department nearly ten minutes to respond. They were lucky to get there before the fire spread to the adjoining buildings, but it wasn’t fast enough to save Walt’s.

“You’re coming to stay with us,” I insisted after we finished giving our statements.

“No, I’m not putting you out,” Walt replied firmly.

“We insist,” Bryan added. We shared a look behind Walt as we walked to the car, both knowing that he’d put up a fight.

“I’ll be fine. You go take your little one up to bed, it’s well past…”

“Walt, you need someplace to stay. We have the extra room, it’s no hassle,” I pressed. “Where else could you go?” I cringed as the words fell from my mouth. Exhausted and exasperated, I didn’t think before speaking. This poor guy had no family to speak of, had just lost everything, and I was bullying him.

Bryan scratched at the stubble on his cheek. “I have an idea,” he said, nodding to the car.

A few minutes later, we pulled up in front of the old house on Oak Drive, our home for the first few wonderful years together. We rarely made our way into this part of town, so it’d been a while since I’d seen it.

“You can stay here for as long as you want. We had everything cleaned when Dani’s mom came down,” Bryan explained.

Dani stirred in the seat beside me. Her head rolled to the side and she breathed putrid vodka vomit breath on me. “I think it’s a great idea,” I said, leaning forward to pat Walt on the shoulder and to avoid gagging. “This work for you?”

His tongue worked in his mouth as if he were rolling the idea around. “I appreciate it,” he said gruffly.

“Great, I’ll get him set up,” I said, bounding from the back seat, needing the fresh air.

“We’ll send over the neighbor’s boy tomorrow to clear this,” I said as we stomped up the short, unshoveled walk. Once inside, I cranked up the heat, made sure everything was still in order, and got him settled.

“Anything you need or want, just help yourself,” I insisted as I set a couple folded towels on the bed.

“Already did,” he said as he lifted a tumbler of whiskey.

“Walt, I’m so sorry about…” I started to say, but the lump in my throat trapped the words.

His shoulders slumped as he waved away my concern. “Nothing we can do now. Thank you.”

Even the gruff tone made my heart break just a bit more, but he was right. We’d already spent half the night talking to the authorities. Can’t unburn a building.

“We’ll stop by with breakfast in the morning.” I thought about just turning to leave but couldn’t stand the thought. I rushed forward and flung my arms around the grumpy old man. “Hope you get some sleep.”

On the way out of the house, I glanced up at the smoke detector in the hall, finding the bright little green light a tiny comfort.

 

 

I collected Jack and the bags when we got to the house while Bryan helped Dani. The girl was so drunk, even with all the water and food I’d shoved down her throat, that she wasn’t able to walk up the stairs by herself. As upset as I was with her, I felt a twinge of pride as Bryan selflessly went upstairs to take care of her.
At least one of us is good parent,
I thought.

I put Jack to bed and grabbed the baby monitor, pausing in the doorway to watch the night light dance across the wall. I slowed as I walked past Dani’s room at the top of the stairs, but could only make out the low rumble of Bryan’s voice. Once downstairs, I stoked the glowing coals in the fireplace, threw a log on, and settled on the sofa in time for the late night news. With a deep sigh, I promised myself at least a half an hour to unwind before going to bed.

The lead story was the weather. I turned up the volume as Dan the weatherman came on.

“We have a bit of news to report, and some of you might like it and some of you might not. The storm seems to be taking the road less taken. A shift in the upper level winds has pushed the whole thing down, meaning this area,” he said as he gestured to a swath of the Rockies directly over Tellure Hollow, “will be hit the hardest.”

“Shit,” I whispered excitedly. On one hand, we needed the snow. Winters in the Rockies had been rough the past couple years. Tourists didn’t book trips without knowing there’d be a decent snowpack waiting for them. With a couple feet of fresh snow during one of the busiest times of the season, Powder Mountain wouldn’t have to worry. Too much snow would mean no one could even get to the mountain to enjoy it. Mother Nature can be a fickle, mean bitch sometimes.

“Many of the ski resorts in these areas will look forward to significant snowfall,” the weatherman grinned.

“Uh huh,” I muttered.

“But make no mistake,” he continued, “this storm is extremely dangerous. This shift means we could see blizzard-like conditions for an extended amount of time. This includes several inches of snow per hour, sustained winds above thirty-five miles per hour, and whiteout conditions. Power lines and closed roads are all but guaranteed.

“The governor of Colorado has preemptively issued a state of emergency for half the state, putting many on high alert.”

The image bounced back to a woman anchor at the main desk. “Now Dave, I heard you refer to this system as a possible storm of the century? Are you still predicting it will be that sort of strength?”

“We obviously won’t be able to declare anything like that until after the fact, but I can’t emphasize enough to the viewers out there that this storm is going to pack a punch. Make sure your emergency kits are in order, you have plenty of food and water to last several days, and leave a forwarding address to Santa Claus in case you need to head out of your house.”

The anchor at the desk let out a fake chuckle. “It seems a lot of folks had shoveling snow on their Christmas wish list this year. Thanks, Dave.”

Like anyone in Tellure Hollow, I was excited about a monster dump of snow, especially for the holiday season. But I wasn’t looking forward to the storm of the century. I ran through a mental checklist of all the emergency gear we had. As soon as we discovered we were pregnant, Bryan and I had gone through almost a doomsday preppers phase of making sure all of our affairs were in order. From establishing a trust fund and writing our wills to stocking up enough AA batteries in the house. Nothing like having a child to make you suddenly grow up.

We had plenty of food, a new generator with loads of diesel, and enough wood to last us for the rest of the year in case the heat went out. We’d even bought a plow attachment for the front of the pickup truck last winter, so we didn’t have to worry about getting snowed in.

The next news story pulled me from my mental checklist, an update on the newly declared serial arsonist.

“The Market Price Pyro, as the police have dubbed him, has struck again. A total of fourteen buildings have been torched since these attacks first began two months ago. The use of the same incendiary device has linked all the fires together. Authorities are no closer to solving this case, and anyone with any information is asked to call the number below. We go live to…”

I turned off the TV, unable to stomach seeing a live shot of the smoldering rubble that was once Walt’s life.

 

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