Page 3 of Girl in the Snow
She glared at her phone once more.Maybe she could try to send an email?
“It’s worth a shot.”Deanna breathed out a plume of smoke-like air, frosty in the rapidly cooling temperature.
She tapped out an email, asking the manager to please contact her ASAP as her car had broken down and she was stranded on the road into town with nowhere to stay.
Then she put on her woollen gloves and hat, hopped out of her car, closed the door and started walking along the side of the road.Glancing at her phone screen as she went, Deanna told herself the situation wasn’t so dire.If worse came to worst, she could make it the rest of the way into town.It was about three miles.Yes, it was cold, but she could do it.
She nodded, as she gave herself a little pep talk.“Come on Deanna, it’s not so bad.”
Holding the phone out in front of her, she turned this way and that looking for a phone signal, any signal…
There.
Suddenly she had three bars, and before she could talk herself out of it, she called the local emergency number.The phone line was busy, which was typical of her recent luck.She hung up.The next call was to the car hire company.A recorded message told her to stay on the line, and the current wait time was approximately ten thousand hours, or something.She gave up on that option as a bad joke.
Then she called the manager at the lodge, Mr Winterbourne.Just in case there was a chance she could still stay there over Christmas and not be pathetic and homeless for the holidays.Deanna would beg if she had to.
“Winterbourne Lodge.”The voice on the other end of the phone was deep, rumbly and epically grumpy, like a bear who’d just been woken from his long winter sleep.
“Hello?Oh, I’m so glad you answered.My name is Deanna Michaelson and I tried to book a cabin, but the reservation was cancelled—”
“We’re closed.”
She sucked in a sharp inhale.“No, you don’t understand, I’m already here.On the road into town.My rental car broke down and it’s cold and I heard a storm is coming and… Please.I need a place to stay, even just for one night.”
“Where exactly?”The epic grumpiness reached new levels of pissed-off, even as his voice became gravellier.He gave off strong ‘leave me alone’ vibes.Mr Winterbourne was more gruff than she remembered.
“Where am I now?In the middle of the road, near the turn off from the interstate to the town centre.There are a lot of trees, and… Oh!A sign on the right says, ‘Tourist trail’ with an arrow pointing straight ahead.”
“I know it.I’ll be there in five.Don’t move.”
“Thank you!I won’t move I’ll stay right—”
But Mr Winterbourne had already hung up.His accent had sounded upper-crust English, just as she remembered from years ago.Deanna reckoned he must be a lonely, curmudgeon of an old man these days.He’d probably appreciate the company once he got used to the idea.Fingers crossed.
She trudged back to her car to wait.
Five minutes later, give or take, Deanna was huddled in her car with her gloved hands shoved under her armpits, wearing her puffer coat.The snow had started falling again, a pretty, soft cover on the road, but a harsh wind picked up, warning of the storm to come.
A flash of headlights up ahead had her gathering her things and getting out of the car again.She waved in the direction of the other car coming towards her.It was a blue ute, or pick-up truck, as Americans called it.
The truck did an expert three-point turn and pulled up alongside her on the gravel at the side of the road.She pressed herself close to the driver’s side door.She got her first glimpse of the man inside the truck when he opened his door and stepped out.
Her first thought was:yummy.Then her brain re-set and she thought, tall, dark, and furious.Very nice indeed, even if he wasn’t pleased.Her gaze caught on his, snagged there, while he squinted at her and frowned.
His black hair flopped over one eyebrow from under his wool hat and his russet brown skin was warm-looking.She suddenly wanted to rub her cheek against his, feel the texture of that smattering of stubble across his jaw.Press her body against him, dressed as he was in a thick plaid overcoat and jeans.Maybe she was just cold.
A full body shiver wracked her, as he slammed his car door and marched in her direction.
“Miss Michaelson?”His voice was growly, deeper than on the phone.
Deanna bounced up and down on her toes, which might have turned to ice blocks.“Hello!Thanks so much for coming to my rescue.Do you work for Mr Winterbourne at the lodge?”She stuck out her right hand, inviting him to shake it.
His forehead creased, making him look even grumpier.And he completely ignored her outstretched hand, meeting her gaze with a searing look.“I’m Cal Winterbourne.I’m the manager.”
Deanna blinked and her stomach flipped.“Oh!Well, that’s good.I mean, nice to meet you, Cal.I assumed the owner was an older man, like a grumpy grandpa, you know?But you’re not… I mean, you’re not old.A bit wizardy, but there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Where was old Mister W?This hot, broody man wasn’t who she had been expecting.She pushed a lock of her curly hair out of her face and grinned at him, while he stared silently back.
