Page 113 of Sleigh Bells and Snowstorms
“I think my phone is still in your car, but I doubt it would work out here anyway.”
“Unlikely.” I brushed her hair back. “Listen, I’m going to get us out of here.”
She nodded, but the sadness didn’t leave her expression. “Nina is probably freaking out, wondering where we are.”
“She might be, but there isn’t anything we can do about that tonight.”
“I promised Annabel I’d be home for Christmas. I didn’t just promise—I pinky promised.”
“As did I. And we’re going to keep those promises. We might be late, but we’ll get home for Christmas.” I brought her in for a soft kiss. “For now, let’s focus on the fact that we’re safe from the storm. We’ll see what daylight brings.”
“Okay.”
She settled against me, and I held her until we both drifted off to sleep.
The cold woke me before dawn. The fire had died down during the night, leaving a chill in the air. Natalie nestled against me, her body soft and warm. I held her for a while, letting her sleep, and enjoyed the feel of her in my arms.
We had a difficult day ahead. I harbored no illusions that we were driving out. There was far too much snow. I wondered if we’d even find my car in the drifts. Although we had to. Natalie wasn’t dressed for a long trek through the woods. Her coat was in my car, as were the extra hat and gloves she’d insisted I purchase.
The pale light of dawn began to filter through the windows, and Natalie stirred.
“Morning,” she said.
“Merry Christmas, darling.”
She smiled. “Merry Christmas.”
I kissed her. But as delicious as she was, it wasn’t the time to linger in bed.
“First things first,” I said. “We need water. And then a way out.”
“We can use snow, but we need to melt it first. If there’s a pot or something, we could do that over the stove.”
I gestured to the old snowshoes on the wall. “And those might get us out of here.”
“They look ancient. They must be for decoration, not use.”
“As long as they hold together, they’ll help. My car isn’t far. I don’t think there’s any chance of driving it, but you need warmer clothes. We’ll go there first, then hike out until we get a signal and can call for help.”
“Is it still snowing?”
It was hard to tell in the dim light, but at least the wind was no longer shrieking.
“It might be. If we have any luck, the worst of the storm is over.”
“I guess we just hope for a Christmas miracle.”
Leaning in, I gave her a quick kiss. I felt like I’d already been given one.
One thing I knew—I was going to get her home for Christmas. No matter what.
We moved quickly, getting dressed and adding more wood to the fire. Natalie found a pot and cleaned it out with snow, then set some to melt on the stove. Fat flakes drifted down peacefully outside, settling on the thick accumulation of fresh snow from the storm, but at least it was no longer the blizzard of the previous day.
The cabin didn’t have much more that would help us. We took down the snowshoes, and they seemed sturdy enough to use. I insisted Natalie wear my coat, hat, and gloves. It occurred to me that there were two fully dressed bodies outside, and we could probably use some of what they were wearing. But I decided I’d rather hike to my car without a coat than dig out the bodies of Archer and Julian.
When we were hydrated and bundled as much as possible, with snowshoes on our feet, we ventured out.
Snow spilled inside when we opened the door. The wind had built up a tall drift in front of the cabin, and we had to climb out. Even with snowshoes, we sank to our knees, and the frigid air bit into me.
