The wedding passes in a happy blur.I do not get enough time with Lettie because, true to her word, she stands by Caroline, which totally messes up my plans but is very kind and needed. I can’t complain. I love that Lettie is so generous. Even before I met her, I knew that she was exceptionally thoughtful. She cares. That’s why the Pumpkin Hunt was such a smashing success. But to be nice to Caroline, who has never been that nice to her. I find that impressive. And she’s not doing it because she’s cowed by Caroline or is trying to win her over. Nope, Lettie’s not one bit intimidated by Charlie’s sister. Rather, she’s taken sad Caroline under her wing for Jane and Charlie’s sake, so their big day isn’t marred by Caroline’s tears.
I wish my mom could see this side of Lettie. Though admittedly, she’s warming up to the idea of Lettie. She even helped me with her Christmas gift. When my mom and sister return from England, I hope I can introduce Lettie to them as my girlfriend. I’m planning to be as happy as Charlie and Jane—even happier.
I leave the wedding with giddy anticipation. I made plans with Lettie to have dinner tonight. Sure, there are a few things we still need to talk over. In a couple days, I’m flying to England, and she’s driving back to Iowa. I really don’t want to date long-distance, and with my job, moving isn’t an option. But we can make it work—I know it.
I wish Lettie were driving home with me, or, better yet, we could have just stayed at the lodge. But she has already promised to drive some friends home, and no rooms are left. I checked as soon as we returned from the photoshoot and saw another storm was headed toward us. Hoping to beat the storm, all of us without rooms left immediately after the wedding lunch. I’m afraid we didn’t leave fast enough. Styrofoam snow bounces on my windshield. Fast-falling flakes coat the road turning it white and slippery. I wonder if Lettie is behind or ahead of me in this line of cars.
Traffic slows down to under 20 mph in what is fast becoming a blizzard. The snow drops so fast and thick that it’s hard to see more than the brake lights of the car in front of me. I wish I had insisted on driving Lettie and her friends. I don’t think Jane’s Audi has four-wheel drive. All the cars hit their brakes. Up ahead, I think I see a green Audi slide and skid right off the edge of the road. Through the whirring snow I can’t see if the car rolled into a meadow or off a hundred-foot drop-off. I’m not exactly a praying man, but I find myself throwing out a plea to the universe, “Please, let her be okay, please!”
I swerve out of the traffic, driving on the shoulder, my Land Rover handling the piles of snow. All the while, I’m inwardly screaming, “I can’t lose her. Not her also.” And in those frantic blurred seconds, I know. This is no passing crush. This is so much more. When I see a green car not far off the road. I pull over, park my vehicle, and am out in a moment.
I clamber through knee-deep snow in my suit pants and leather shoes. Icy snow soaks my thin dress socks. I pound on the window, desperate to see her face. I need to hear her voice and know she’s alright.
“Lettie! Are you okay?” I holler.
She rolls down the window.
“Liam, thank God you’re here. I don’t have cell service. I don’t know what to do? Do you think I can get this car back on the road? I don’t think it’s damaged.”
“No!” I say forcefully. “I’m not letting you drive this vehicle in this weather.”
“But . . . what . . . I can’t just leave it . . . can I?” she dithers.
“Leave the damn car!” I bark. “You guys can ride with me.”
“Just leave it?” She sounds skeptical. “Is that safe?”
“It’s not safe for you to stay out here in a blizzard!” I yell over the wind. “I will buy Jane another car, a hundred cars if I have to. But I’m not going to let you freeze by the roadside. Get your stuff out and let’s go!”
All three of them meekly get out of the car and trudge through the snow, lugging their bags with them. Lettie automatically takes the front passenger seat, which should be no big deal but I notice. Especially, after I just yelled at her. I wish I’d kept my cool. But for one moment, I was out of my mind with terror. I feel so much better having her safe in my car with four-wheel drive.
“Thank you,” she says softly. “I really don’t want to drive in this!” The snow continues to fall with fury.
“These are beastly conditions,” I say. I’ve never seen worse.”
“Will we make it home by seven?” asks Lydia. “I have a date.”
“Me, too,” I say with a swift grin at Lettie. “But I think we’re all out of luck.”
Yellow lights flash ahead. An electric signboard reads: Road closed. Turn Around.
“Sorry,” I tell the whole vehicle of women. “We’re going to have to head back and stop at the first place with a vacancy.
***
Three hours and five motels later, wesnag the last room at a roadside inn. Our dumpy room has two queen beds.
“I take the bed with Darcy!” Lydia squeals. “Unless you already have dibs, Lettie?”
“I’m sleeping on the floor,” I say firmly, intending to leave no room for argument.
“You will not,” protests Lettie. “You can sleep in my bed.”
I’m stunned. I must look shocked because she adds, “Obviously, you will be a perfect gentleman with Cat and Lydia here.”
“Obviously,” I say a bit sheepishly. Sleeping in the same bed with Lettie and not touching her might just kill me. But there’s no way I’m going to fight her on this.
“I declare there’s no enjoyment like a book.” —Pride & Prejudice
