Page 5 of Snow Balled

Except I couldn’t even see the desk. For all I knew, it had gotten pushed right out the side of the cabin—if this pile of rubble could even be called a cabin anymore.

This was bad.

Really bad.

Then I heard it—the most beautiful noise in the world.

Barking.

Such an exquisite sound. It was almost like it entered my ears and traveled through my body, warming it. I wasn’t alone. The collie was nearby. He knew I was in trouble.

“Help!” I cried out, wishing I knew the dog’s name. I knew he was a male, but he hadn’t been wearing a collar during his visits. Why would he wear one out in the middle of nowhere? But I wished I could call him by name. “Here, boy. I’m in here!”

And an even more beautiful sound. “We’re coming!”

Tears formed on my lower lashes and instantly froze. The shaking in my limbs wasn’t just from the cold. Someone was coming.

Help was coming.

Then there was a thud, coming from the direction I thought the porch was in. “I’m here!” I called again.

The collie barked from close by. I could hear him jumping around. In my mind’s eye, I pictured him trying to get to me. Even though I doubted he could, it helped tremendously to know he was nearby.

I closed my eyes as relief filled me. No matter what happened, I wasn’t by myself anymore. Ironic how comforting that thought was, when I’d come all the way out here just so I could have some time alone.

“Are you okay in there?” a deep, masculine voice called. Before I could answer, another one of them answered for me.

“Of course, she’s not.” There was another thud, and then some cursing.

“Don’t go that way, it’s too unstable,” one of them said. I think it was the first guy again. “Miss?”

“I’m here.” My voice sounded weak to my own ears, so I tried again. “I’m stuck.” That was better. Over the years, I’d done a play or two, and that had taught me to project my voice when I needed to.

“We’re going to get you out of there.”

Thank God.

The voices retreated, and I pictured them in front of the cabin, trying to figure out the best way to get to me. Few clear words drifted my way, but it sounded like quite the debate.

“I’m coming in,” said a voice from a different direction. This man sounded younger than the ones I’d heard before. “If I do anything to make the branches press down on you more, let me know and I’ll stop.”

“Okay.”

From the direction of his voice, it seemed like he was trying to get in the kitchen window—if the kitchen was even still standing.

There was a grunt of effort, and then a scrambling sound. Then his voice came again, closer than before. “And if I don’t end up careening down the side of the mountain on a pile of rubble, then the others are going to try to get in as well.”

A quick laugh escaped me, but then I groaned. Every movement I made caused a sharp stick to poke into me.

“Are you injured?” he asked. He didn’t sound any closer, but it was a relief to know he was inside the cabin.

“I don’t think so. I’m all scratched up, though.”

“That’s good,” he said, then corrected himself. “Not about the scratches, I mean. But that you’re not too badly hurt. My name’s Drew Curtis, by the way. I thought I should tell you that since I’m in your kitchen.”

“Sierra Brogan.” My real last name flowed past my lips even though I’d worked as Sierra Sloane for years.

“Pretty name,” Drew commented. “I’d say ‘nice to meet you,’ but I’ll save that for when I can see you.”

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