Page 70 of Through the Fire
Half asleep, Justice didn’t respond.
“Good. That’s what we’ll do, then.” It probably wasn’t normal to discuss her plans with her dog, but that was the nice thing about her new town: the weirder she was, the more she fit in with everyone else.
They’d just gotten over the pass when the snowflakes started to fall. They were big and beautiful, like something out of a Christmas movie, but the closer Kit got to the tower, the thicker the flakes got. As she turned onto the two-track path leading to the tower, the previous tire marks were blurred, filled halfway with new snow.
The wind picked up, and she was grateful that the surrounding trees blocked the worst of it. She wouldn’t want to be on the highway in this, since the visibility had to be just a few feet. In the midst of the trees, the snow swirled around her SUV, the fresh, white covering giving the forest a magical appearance. Despite the sparkling fairyland around her, Kit’s shoulders tightened as she slowly rolled through the falling snow. Considering Wes’s inhospitable neighbors, this was not a good place for her to get her vehicle stuck.
It wasn’t until she pulled into the clearing surrounding the tower that Kit allowed herself to relax, exhaling a long breath. She felt like she’d been holding it since the snow started falling. Now that she was out of the shelter of the trees, the wind hit the side of the SUV hard, making it shudder from the strength of the gusts.
Parking next to the tower, she braced herself and opened her door. Although she thought she’d been mentally prepared, the cold wind still shocked her, blasting through her layers like they were tissue paper. Hurrying to get Justice out of the SUV, she revised her plan. There was no way they were going to do any training in this snowstorm, not without her losing a few toes from the cold.
By the way he huddled at her side, rather than jumping around like a wild thing in the snow like he normally did, Justice agreed with her. He stuck close to her as she hurried for the tower door, silently thanking Wes for his genius when the door swung open as soon as she looked toward the camera.
Stepping inside, Kit almost ran into a broad, flannel-covered chest. “Oh!” she said, looking up at Wes. “I thought you’d be upstairs.”
“I saw you pull up and wanted to open the door before you froze.” He closed the door behind them, and the howling wind was instantly muffled. Justice slipped his head under Wes’s hand and was rewarded with ear strokes. “Heavy rain or snow messes with the facial-recognition. I’m working on fixing that.”
“Thank you.” There was a coatrack next to the door, so she removed her boots and coat, hanging it next to his before following Wes up the stairs. Justice bounded ahead, back to his bouncy self now that they were out of the wind and snow. “I should’ve checked the weather before heading out, but I was in a hurry, worried about running out of daylight to train in.” She gave a huff of laughter. “Guess it doesn’t matter whether it’s light out or not now. There’s no training in this.”
“Did you want to use the tower?” he offered as they reached the top. The large, round room was warm and bright and welcoming, smelling of split pine and woodsmoke, just like Wes.
“I think I’ll give Justice the day off. I’d prefer to stay here until the snow and wind let up, if you don’t mind?” She dreaded making the drive back to town in the middle of the nasty storm. Despite their predicament, though, she wasn’t sorry she’d come. Just seeing this big, bearded, flannel-draped man made the tension of the day ease out of her. She hadn’t realized how tense she was until she’d set eyes on him and everything inside her had suddenly relaxed.
“No.”
She blinked. That was unexpected. “We can’t stay?”
“No.” He let out a huff and stared at the lofted ceiling for a moment. “That isn’t coming out right. No, I don’t mind if you stay. Yes, you can stay. I want you to stay. So please stay.”
Once again, she was reminded how much she loved his mannerisms and the way he always said exactly what he was thinking, and she smiled for what felt like the first time in a long, stressful day. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” There was another long pause as they stared at each other. Justice, finished exploring the space, returned to lean on Wes and did his head-under-the-hand trick again. Wes blinked, as if pulled from his thoughts, and asked, “Would you like something to eat?”
Kit smiled more broadly than the offer probably deserved. “Yes. That would be wonderful.”
* * *
Wes’s thoughts ran in high-speed circles. He’d never felt so nervous—and yet so excited—before in his life. Kit was here, in his tower, and they were alone—except for the dog—and he needed to get her some food before she started wondering what was wrong with him. As he moved toward the cupboard, the dispatcher’s voice came from the radio, announcing that both the east and west passes were about to be closed due to the winter storm. He wasn’t surprised. With this wind, the visibility had to be terrible.
Wes grabbed the s’mores box and held it up in question. When he saw Kit’s frown, he started to return it to the shelf.
“No, that would be perfect. I’m just thinking about the pass being closed. Is this storm supposed to continue all night?”
He froze, the consequences of the closed pass suddenly hitting him. Normally, he left his home so rarely, especially during the winter, that the road conditions didn’t affect him too much, but this time, it was different. Kit couldn’t leave, which meant she would need to stay. With him. Possibly all night. He swallowed hard, his brain temporarily experiencing a whiteout that rivaled the conditions outside. “Uh…”
Looking concerned, Kit walked over to the wall of windows and peered out into the snow-filled dusk. “Last time I was snowed out of Monroe, when I first got to Colorado, it was for almost a week.” Turning, she gave him a tentative smile. “If you’re stuck with me and Justice that long, you’ll probably end up tossing us out in the snow after a few days.”
“No!” he said, and realized that came out too vehemently when she looked startled. The idea of being trapped with Kit for hours—if not days—was sending blood racing through his veins. This would be the true test of how they got along, and he worried that she’d be the one wanting to toss him into the snow, rather than the other way around. He tried to speak again, more calmly this time. “I can’t imagine ever getting tired of you.” When her eyes widened again, he mentally swore. Had that sounded too intense? He felt like he was trying to navigate a minefield while blindfolded. Conversation—especially a conversation with a woman he liked—was not his strong suit.
“Good.” Her surprise seemed to have faded, and she was smiling again, so Wes let out the breath he was holding. “Could I check the weather forecast?” She gestured toward one of his computers.
“Of course.” As he moved toward the closest laptop, he realized that he was still holding the box of Pop Tarts, and he handed it to Kit as he passed.
When she laughed, he hesitated, trying to figure out why, but she waved him on. “I’ve got this. I’m not the best cook in the world, but I can manage to toast a Pop Tart. Did you want one?”
“Yes.” He pulled up the weather site. It loaded slowly, but Wes had expected that. He was glad the satellite internet was working at all, since it tended to go down during storms. When the site finally displayed, his stomach gave a hop of excitement. “The snow will continue until approximately midnight, but there will be high winds through the night.”
She made a face but didn’t appear to be overly upset, which made Wes hopeful that she didn’t mind having to stay the night. “The plows won’t even try to clear the passes until the wind dies down, since the snow would just blow right back over the highway. Guess you’re stuck with us. In hindsight, I should’ve checked the weather forecast before coming out here. Sorry about this.”
