Page 19 of Silent Road

She hardly heard him.She was gazing into the shed, toward the darkness at the back, where she could just barely make out a lumpy shape cloaked in a blue tarp.Curiosity sparked within her.

Without a word, she started toward it.

"What is it?"Tommy asked, remaining where he was.

She didn't answer immediately.She turned on her flashlight and swept left and right through the darkness of the shed—no sign of Wells anywhere.Then, kneeling down, she grasped the edge of the tarp.With a firm tug, she pulled it back to reveal a vintage Ski-Doo, its orange paint still bright despite its age.

For a moment, the world around her faded away.

"A 1976 TNT," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.The sight of it stirred memories long buried.She ran her hand along the chassis, feeling the smooth metal beneath her glove.Images flashed in her mind—her father laughing as he taught her how to ride, the thrill of speed, the wind whipping through her hair.She remembered the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the pride in his voice when she mastered a tricky maneuver.

"Brings back memories?"Tommy asked gently, perhaps noticing the distant look in her eyes.

She nodded."My dad had one just like it," she replied."We used to spend winters tearing up the trails.It was our thing."

Tommy smirked."Nice museum piece.But we need something that actually runs."

The remark pulled her back to the present.She raised an eyebrow, a competitive glint in her eye."I bet you twenty bucks I can start it," she said, ignoring his teasing.

"You're on."Tommy chuckled, crossing his arms."That thing's probably been sitting here since Carter was president."

Sheila shot him a determined look."Never underestimate the classics."

She checked the fuel tank and saw that it was nearly full.That was a good sign, provided the fuel wasn't so old it had gone bad.She located the primer and pushed it three times, then pulled the choke out fully.The engine looked clean—someone had been taking care of it.

She turned the key in the ignition and pulled the starter cord.

Nothing.

She felt a brief flicker of frustration.She was aware of Tommy's amused gaze on her, and after the way he'd taken over when she got the car stuck in the snow, she had something to prove.She wasn't going to let a rookie show her up twice.

"Want to call it now and save yourself twenty bucks?"he teased.

Sheila shook her head."Not a chance."She adjusted the choke, trying to recall the nuances of the old machine.Her father had always emphasized patience and attention to detail.Every engine had its quirks, especially old ones.

She tried again.Still nothing.The cold was seeping into her bones, and she flexed her fingers to keep them nimble.After a third attempt, even she had to admit that it wasn't looking good.Doubt began to creep in.Maybe Tommy was right, and it would be better just to drive back down the mountain and get a snowmobile or two from Michael.

Then she remembered something her father had taught her.A trick for stubborn engines.She reached down and tapped the carburetor housing sharply with the handle of her flashlight."Sometimes they just need a little persuasion," she said aloud, recalling his words.

This time, when she pulled the cord, the engine coughed, sputtered, and eventually roared to life.The sudden sound broke the quiet, and blue exhaust smoke filled the shed as the old machine shuddered awake.

Sheila grinned triumphantly."I believe that's twenty dollars," she said over the engine's rumble.

Tommy shook his head in disbelief."Where'd you learn to do that?"

She laughed softly."Spent every winter weekend of my teenage years riding with my dad and sister.You pick up a few tricks."Memories flooded back—the exhilaration of speeding over snow-covered hills, the camaraderie, the freedom she felt out there.A pang of longing touched her heart.

She swung her leg over the seat, settling into a familiar position.The vibrations of the engine resonated through her body, stirring both excitement and a hint of melancholy."Coming?"

Tommy hesitated only a moment before climbing on behind her."You're full of surprises," he said.There was that hint of admiration in his voice again.

His arms went around her waist, the contact sending an unexpected jolt through her.Sheila stiffened slightly, not accustomed to such closeness.She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this physically close to anyone except Finn.The thought of Finn—his easy smile, the way his eyes lit up when he laughed—made her chest tighten.Guilt and confusion swirled within her.

What would he think if he could see us now?she wondered.We're just doing our jobs, so there's no reason to feel guilty.It's not as if I'm cheating on him.

Bolstered by this rationale, she eased the snowmobile forward."Hold tight," she said to Tommy.

They emerged from the shed into brilliant afternoon sunlight.They followed the snowmobile tracks up the ridge, where the terrain opened into a series of wide bowls perfect for wildlife viewing.The snow sparkled like scattered diamonds under the sun's rays, and the sky stretched endless and blue above the white-capped peaks.A few wispy clouds drifted lazily, offering little obstruction to the sun's glare.

---