Page 1 of A Season of Second Chances
One
Joy
"No, no, no..." I groan when the rental car I'm driving slides further than I'm prepared for. My entire body clenches, and I grip the steering wheel as tightly as I can. With a lot of luck, I gather it back up, and then tap the gas, swallowing down the anxiety that's been living in my throat for the last forty-five minutes.
"This is the stupidest thing I've ever done," I whisper to the empty passenger seat.
Outside, thick snowflakes are starting to come down, and according to the temperature gauge on the dash, it's dropped ten degrees in the last five minutes. The GPS says that I'm still an hour and a half out from Aspen, and my stomach drops as I see the sign announcing that I've entered Pine Ridge.
"Good old home sweet, home," I blow out a breath.
I haven't been back since I graduated high school, and left this town in the rear view like my ass was on fire. I never turned to the past, even when I really wanted to.
The snow coming down in the headlights is making it harder and harder to see the road. I look down for a split second, and when I glance back up, there's a deer dashing in front of me. Even though I know I shouldn't, I slam on the brakes and white-knuckle it as I take the ditch closest to the road.
Although I was going much slower than I normally would've been, I still come to a stop with a loud thud. My body lurches forward with the impact, and I take a few moments to check in. Make sure I can move all my limbs, and that I haven't hit my head. As I'm taking stock, there's a loud beating on the window that makes me jump and scream. I haven't passed another soul in the past thirty minutes.
"Are you okay?" The question is muffled, but I can still make it out.
Nodding, I struggle to open the door. "I'm fine, but I don't know how I'm going to get out of this ditch," I groan as I push myself out of the driver's seat.
"Storm's coming. This is just the front edge of it. It's just getting started."
The man grasps my hand, and that along with the voice hits me like a freight train. "Winter?"
He stops, and looks down at me. The same green eyes that I looked into for hours as a teenager are right there in the dim light coming from the interior of the car. "Joy?"
I nod, swallowing roughly. "Yeah."
He stiffens, and nods to a truck that's idling behind my rental. "We're a couple miles from Cedar Lodge. We need to get there before this gets wound up all the way. They're calling it the hundred-year storm."
Lucky for me, I put boots on before I started this journey, and they're saving me as we trudge through the snow. "What about my stuff?" I question over the roar of the wind.
"Let me get you in the truck, and then I'll grab whatever you have."
I nod, but I'm sure he can't tell. The snow is deep, almost up to my shins already. When I take a step and my boot punches further down that I expect it to, causing me to stumble, Winter reaches over and picks me up. I haven't been in his arms in ten years, and the same feeling I had as a teenager envelopes my entire body. Before I know it, I'm pushed up into the passenger seat, the hot blast of the heater warming my frozen bones.
"Where's your stuff?" He asks, his voice muffled by the gaiter he wears around his face and neck.
"Trunk. There's a suitcase and a laptop bag. I need both if you can grab them."
He makes a noise, and then turns back out into the storm. Closing the door, I take a moment to still the shuddering of my breath, calming the galloping momentum of my heart. When I've stopped shivering, I glance around the interior, taking note of the green lights, and the bottle of Sprite sitting in the console.
Winter always drank Sprite.
I guess some things never change.
The back door on the driver's side of the quad cab opens, and I see my belongings being shoved in. There's a part of me that wants to tell him to be careful, and there's another part of me that knows I should probably shut my mouth.
The door closes, and then he comes to the driver's side and lifts himself up into the seat, taking off his gloves and the gaiter around his mouth. He sniffles, cheeks red from the cold. "What the hell were you doing out in this? You've been reckless previously, but I didn't take you for wanting to commit suicide."
The annoyance in his voice takes me by surprise. It's been years since this man has been annoyed with me, and honestly, I don't feel like I deserve it now. "You have no idea what kind of situation I'm in, Winter. You lost the privilege of knowing that years ago."
He glances over at me, those green eyes guarded. "Then why don't you tell me why you decided to take your life in your hands tonight?"
Swallowing roughly, I lick my suddenly dry lips. "I'm supposed to be at a retreat for work right now. My flight to Denver was delayed because of all this weather. I had to stay an extra day to finish work on a project, so everyone went out before me. If everything had worked out the way it was supposed to today, I'd already have been there. Instead, I was trying to get there."
"Your job shouldn't have you out in this weather to begin with. It'll be slow-going. So hang on, and don't make small talk."
