What kind of stormisthis?Where did it come from?And how long can it go on like this?
It has to run out of momentum eventually, right?
I grab the shovel and get to work.It’s obvious what Evander means to do here, and he’s already made a lot of progress.Unfortunately, snow has blown back inside the space he’s carved out.
That’s where I start, using the back of the shovel to scrape drifts away, then flipping the shovel to scoop it up and throw it off to the side.
Shovelful by shovelful, I hack away at the indentation in the snowdrift, keeping the doorway small but hollowing out the opening, expanding the depth, height, and width.
As I go, I smooth out the inside walls and the floor, keeping in mind Evander’s request to keep it as level as possible.
It’s hard work.The snow’s heavy.Each time I carry a shovelful out of the entrance, I can barely see.I have no idea what time it is, but there’s not even a hint of light in the sky.
But I keep going.
I really, really hope we won’t have to use this little cave.The idea of crouching inside an igloo makes our little shack seem like whatever that London hotel Evander mentioned—the Peninsula, I think.
As I work, my mind wanders to my family.My poor mama must be hysterical.I wish somehow I could send her a message that I’m okay, that I’ll make it home safe.
That I’m in good hands because I’m with Evander.
My dad’s got to be beside himself.As I learned a long time ago, the one thing Gil Travis can’t tolerate is feeling powerless.It’s been one of the most horrific parts of his illness.
He’s a third-generation self-reliant rancher, as tough as nails.It kills me that my absence will add to his feelings of helplessness.
Yet again, I can’t grasp how in the flaming hot Cheetos I’m even still alive and breathing.
It’s because Evander found me.Despite the odds.
I throw a pile of snow over my shoulder.
My mind wanders all the way back to that night of the ice cream incident, when Evander dried my tears and drove me home, only to be met with my brothers’ anger and accusations.
Ugh.
I’ve never understood what the issue is with my brothers and the MacLaines.Maybe I’m not equipped to understand, since my bloodstream has never been burdened with toxic levels of testosterone.I just wish they’d all grow up and put the junior high rivalry behind them.We’re all adults now.It’s time to move on.
And when this storm is over, if my brothers eventhinkof lashing out at Evander…
I fling another shovelful behind me.
“Hey!”
I gasp and spin around, my hand going to my chest.Evander stands not three feet away from me, snow dripping down his face mask.
“I'm sorry!”
He uses a glove to sling the snow aside.It seems the poor man can’t keep his face dry when I’m around.
“How’s it going?”he asks.
“Great!See?”
He steps closer and wraps his arms around me.We’re both layered up like the kid brother fromA Christmas Story, but somehow, I still fit perfectly inside his embrace.
“It’s lookin’ good, Travis.Nice work.”
I glance up at him.“Are you done on the roof?”
