She tilted her head as if she were considering his words. “How do you know what my kind of place is?”
He barked out a laugh, even though there was little humor in it. Everything about Lily Hart was soft and feminine, from her pretty hair to her tiny little ankle-breaker heels. She was not the “roughing it” type of gal.
Lily’s chin tilted up. “I think I could handle it.”
Rush shot her a look. She clutched the edges of his jacket so tight her knuckles were white. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, and her eyes darted between him, Riggs, and the snow-covered road ahead of them.
Guilt tugged at him. His sisters would say he was being a grumpy asshole. He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“You don’t have a choice,” he said finally, resigned. “The thruway’s closed. The cabin’s closer than any motel. If I’m getting stuck, I’d rather it be there.”
Her lips parted slightly, uncertainty flickering across her face. “We’re going to your cabin?” Lily asked. “Won’t we be snowed in there?”
“Better snowed in with supplies than stranded here in the middle of nowhere.”
Lily nibbled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’ve never been snowed in before.”
Rush had spent years in the military, reading people under pressure. He knew to watch the way a soldier’s hands shook before a mission, or how their breath hitched ever so slightly before they admitted they were in over their heads. As a sheriff, he was trained to pick up on people’s subtle cues. Lily Hart had every red flag, from her too-tight grip, her forced calm, and the way her eyes darted just a little too much.
She was scared. Maybe not the kind of scared that made people panic, but she was in over her head, and she was trying hard not to show it.
But she was holding it together, and he had to respect that.
“It’s not as fun as it sounds,” he said, gripping the steering wheel as another gust of wind rocked the truck. “The cabin has wood, food, and water. It’s not exactly luxury, but it beats being stranded out here.” He paused for a moment. “We’ll be okay.”
She hesitated for half a beat before squaring her shoulders. “I’m not scared,” she said, lifting her chin up higher. “This is an adventure.”
Rush sent her a sidelong glance. Adventure? Sure.
“Look,” he said, exhaling slowly to keep his frustration in check, “you need to call your family while we still have reception.Someone needs to know you’re safe,” Rush said firmly. He thought about Rachel and Sarah and how he’d feel if one of them ran away from their wedding and hopped into a stranger’s truck.
Lily nodded and took the phone he handed her. As she dialed, he focused on the road, but he couldn’t help but hear the conversation.
He wondered who she’d call first. He wondered about her fiancé too. He’d looked real pissed watching them drive off. Rush wasn’t worried about Tucker, but he sure hoped Lily knew what she was doing. Things were about to get interesting for them.
“Evie, it’s me. I’m fine,” Lily said soothingly.
Not her fiancé, then. Her twin sister, Evie, the librarian in Northfield. Unlike Lily, Evie never had a problem meeting his eyes, and she’d never blushed and stammered before.
“I’m with Sheriff Callahan,” Lily continued calmly. “He’s taking me somewhere safe. Just tell Mom so she doesn’t worry.”
Evie must have said something Lily didn’t like, because Lily’s pink lips pressed into a thin line. “Oh my God,” she gasped. She paused for a long moment, listening. “Everyone saw it?” Her head dropped, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please just… let everyone know I’m safe. I need the weekend to think.”
She listened for a moment longer before saying goodbye and hanging up. She handed the phone back to him silently and wiped at her cheek.
Rush froze. Tears. He hated tears.
Lily leaned back, eyes closed. He thought she muttered, “I am a still lake,” but when he looked at her, she looked serene again.
Rush kept his eyes on the road. It was getting darker, and the snow was so thick the lines were gone from the road. Hehadn’t seen a car for miles. If they could just make it up the ridge, they could see the cabin. Easier said than done.
The truck jolted violently, a thud reverberating through the frame. Rush swore, slamming it into reverse, but the tires spun uselessly before fishtailing into a ditch.
Thank God they’d gone to the right—toward the ditch—because on the other side, the flimsy guardrail was the only thing separating the road from a sheer drop of at least fifty feet.
For a beat, stillness pressed in. His mind betrayed him, pulling him back to another road, another night. The flash of headlights in the icy water. The panicked call jolting him out of bed. The chill of the river biting into his skin as he fought the current.
Caroline’s body slipping from his grasp while her daughter sobbed against his chest.
