My knuckles are white on the steering wheel and evenwith the heater and defroster blasting hot air, it’s still cold in the SUV and the ice at the edges of the windshield wipers is not melting. I can’t turn back now.
How can anyone live here? This is horrible.
Repeatedly taking deep breaths and counting to three to help stave the fear, which is fogging up my window even more, I finally get off the highway, away from the pressure of other drivers going around me. I think a few people flipped me off as they passed me.
I thought I could relax a little, but another thirty minutes later, I’m starting to slide on the narrow country road that leads to the ranch, the fast pumping blood behind my ears getting louder. At least on the highway the heat from the traffic kept the ice from freezing on the road so quick, but now it’s getting worse with each mile.
When I drove this road yesterday, I was going much faster. But there is no sun today, and it seems like the trees are drooping, so things don’t look as familiar as I would like. The sharp turn ahead ahead in the road has me letting off the gas to tap my brakes, but my tires slide, and the edge of the road gets closer and closer as I turn my wheel.
The pumping of the brakes turns into my foot, smashing the pedal down as far as it will go.
Even though I am turning my wheel to go around the corner, I’m sliding in the opposite direction toward the edge, like the road has twisted into a slick hill I’m gliding down.
Lights are flashing in the dash, but I can’t look down to see why, my eyes are glued to the road. The loud dinging that is accompanying the flashing is sending my anxiety higher and I think my heart might beat out of my chest.
The car slides over the edge of a short rocky ravine on the side of the road; I squeeze my eyes closed as my fingers loop around the steering wheel in a death grip. My forehead bounces off the steering wheel, making my teeth clack togetheras the front of the car rolls into the trunk of a large tree with a quiet thud on the front bumper.
Opening my eyes, I realize I’m holding my breath. I blow it out in a huff and take another deep breath as I look around me. Trees in every direction and the stupid road behind me. I lift my head to the rear-view mirror and look at my aching forehead, there is a red spot marring my skin just over my eyebrows.
The car is still running, I must not have hit very hard, but my forehead really hurts. The angle of the edge I just slid down is kind of steep, but just for giggles, I put the car in reverse to see what happens.
Nothing.
Nothing happens.
Damn it.
Looking around the inside of the SUV, I’m looking for anything I can use as an umbrella but there are only the paper mats in the floorboards to keep the carpet clean, and my genuine leather, over-sized bag will definitely be ruined in the wet sleet. I’m still a couple miles from the Harlow Ranch, and I huff out a breath as I realize I’ll have to walk.
I’m glad the coat I bought in town the other day has a fur-lined hood, that should help. I hope. Shutting off the car, I open the door and the strong north wind hits me like an arctic wave and the sleet immediately bounces off every part of me the wind reaches.
Everything is slick and I curse under my breath as I think about stupid me from yesterday who declined the gloves when I bought the coat because I didn’t plan to be here long. I sure as hell didn’t plan to be in the cold long enough to need more than my coat pockets to keep my hands warm. I scrabble up the slick incline, the rocks are covered in a thin layer of ice, and my fingers sting from the contact.
The feelings of relief and accomplishment as I step up ontothe road are fleeting as my foot slides out from under me and the world tilts. My head hits the bumper of the SUV I just crawled out of, and a trickle of warmth starts to slide down my temple to my cheek.
Reaching up to touch my eyebrow, my fingertips come away with blood on them. My ears are ringing and it takes a few more seconds for the pain to start throbbing across my head. Closing my eyes, I wait a minute for the pain to lessen before I try to stand up again.
It’s eerily quiet, except for the sound of sleet bouncing on dead leaves and the already frozen road all around me, it sounds a little like soda fizzing in a glass.
Pulling my coat sleeves over my hands as far as possible, it’s ironic this is the only time I will ever be glad that coat sleeves tend to be too long for my arms, I slowly crawl on my knees and the heels of my palms to the gravel edge on the side of the road.
My head is pounding as I slowly push myself up to test the gravel under my feet, it should help me keep my footing better than the slick asphalt.
When I finally get to the long driveway of the Harlow Ranch, I look up at a metal disc that’s suspended over the middle from a wooden arch. It has a rearing horse and next to it is a large H, on the top side of the H is a small s, and on the underside of the H is a small r.
I’m still too far away from the house to see it through the trees that line the drive, but a sigh escapes my chattering teeth. I’ve been wondering during this long, frigid walk if they will turn me away, I will never bother them again if one of them will just give me a ride back to Tulsa, I’ll leave and never come back, I don’t care what my father does.
The blood on my face is dried on my skin, I’m not surewhich. I wiped it away a couple of times, but since head injuries bleed so much, it’s made a mess of my coat. I can barely feel my toes and my fingers are tingling.
This might be the longest driveway in the world.
Tears of happiness sting my eyes as the big stone and wood house comes into view. My knees are threatening to give out, I’ve never slipped and fell so many times in my life and my body hurts all over. I walk past the line of huge pickup trucks in the circle drive in front of the house and start to go to the front steps of the porch when I hear a voice from the side of the house.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The big guy from the barn yesterday is looking at me like I must be the craziest person he has ever seen, but there is concern on his face as he walks toward me, his eyes are fixed on the bloody side of my face. He has on a big, black wool button-up coat and big leather gloves on his hands, there are weird straps over the toes of his boots and he doesn’t seem to be having a problem walking on the ice.
He really is handsome.
His nose is red and there is some ice on his beard, I smile to myself as I notice there is more red in the brown of that beard than I saw in the barn yesterday. I’m not sure why it strikes me as funny, maybe I’m delirious, but I try to put on my smile as I take a step toward him, ready to beg him to let me warm up, but my foot slips and I start to go down again.
