“Wow, it’s cold,” he remarked as he toed off his boots, balancing a tray in one hand and a paper bag in the other.
“I turned the heat up again,” I told him. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. We’re going to need it,” Chris suggested, heading for the kitchen and setting down his shopping. “Here, I thought you’d be looking for one of these,” Chris offered, handing me a paper cup.
“What is it?”
“Don’t get too excited. It's a gingerbread latte. I figured since you like Christmas, and it was a girly drink, it was a safe bet.” Chris shrugged, and all I could do was smile. He might act like a Grinch and a bit of a hermit, but at heart he was a good guy.
I cradled the cup between my hands, the warmth oozing through the cardboard. Slowly I brought it to my mouth. “Oh my god it’s delicious,” I exclaimed with the traces of gingerbread still on my tongue.
“Thought you’d like it. There are some scones there as well,” Chris said, pointing to the bag.
“How did you sleep?” I asked, focused on my drink.
“Fine. I wanted to get an early start.”
“And?”
“And?”
“And how bad is it?”
“The car or the storm?” Chris asked, walking across and staring out the window as a wave of déjà vu settled over me.
“Both I guess,” I answered nervously.
“Honestly, neither is good, Holly.”
“Oh.” My heart sank.
I’d hoped in the light of a new day, some good news would find its way to me. Surely, I’d had my fair share of bad news and deserved a break. Guess today wasn’t my day.
“I’ve had a quick once over your car. Like I said, the axle is shot, and the radiator needs replacing. Some of the electrics need to be rewired …”
“It’s that bad?”
Chris set his coffee down and moved toward me. When he stood in front of me, his hands rested on my hips. I could feel his warmth through the flimsy night shirt I was still wearing, and I regretted my lack of a bra.
“It can all be fixed. It will just take a bit of time to get the parts.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“This afternoon I’ll go down and figure out what I need and get the order in. I don’t know how long it will take with Christmas and the storm …”
“Do you think I can get up to the ski resort today?”
Chris’s grip on my hips tightened as I felt his fingers dig into me. “Holly, the whole town is cut off. There’s a blizzard out there, and they’re saying the next forty-eight hours are likely toget worse. No one’s getting up or down the mountain to the resort. I’m sorry.”
As his words sunk in, my hope faded.
I wasn’t getting up the mountain today.
I wouldn’t be there for Christmas.
I wasn’t getting out of Evergreen Lake.
I had no idea what I was going to do.
