Trapped with the Blizzard (Tellure Hollow Book 4)

by Adele Huxley

“I know you didn’t,” Bryan murmured. He took a long drag from the beer. It clinked against the side of the tub when he set it down. “Do you remember my dad at all?”

  “Vaguely,” I said as I tried to dredge up the hazy images. Bryan’s dad was my mom’s brother. It was difficult for me to separate my genuine memories from the media coverage that haunted the family. Between Bryan’s career-ending wreck, his dad’s death, and the public fascination that surrounded all of it, I wasn’t sure if the images I had of him were my own or ones the tabloids used during the frenzy.

  “I know it’s not exactly the same, but I really lost my shit when my dad died. It took me years to get my head on straight, and it was Liz who helped put me back together.”

  “Oh, I’m sure she’s very healing,” I snickered. I pulled my knees into my chest and held them close as I let out a wry laugh. “If this is your idea of proposing a threesome with your wife…”

  Bryan thankfully laughed, understanding my humor for what it was. It wasn’t ever easy for me to talk about my dad’s accident, even with somebody who I knew had felt similar pain. I could feel him trying to steer the conversation towards a schism I’d rather ignore, but I knew I owed him an explanation for my behavior.

  “It was a year ago today,” I muttered.

  The air between us grew still. “Ah.”

  Yup, I thought, staring at the ceiling. What can you say to that?

  “Did you know that her dad is in the Marines, too?” Bryan pressed.

  I shook my head, a mistake given my current condition. That fact surprised me, though. Maybe that’s what I sensed about her, that harsh military upbringing I knew too well. I liked to imagine all military families walked around with a green camo aura.

  “He deployed during the first Gulf War, when she was a little girl. That’s a pain and stress I could never understand.” Bryan leaned forward on his elbows, swinging the bottle of beer from his fingers. “You two have a lot more in common than you think.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem,” I snorted. I’d meant it as a joke but found it tinged with too much truth to be funny.

  “Maybe,” he responded. “I know your head is all fucked up right now, and I’m not saying you need to un-fuck it straightaway. Lord knows there’s a lot of therapy to be found in self-destruction. But all of us are here to make sure you don’t slip too far down that slope. We understand a lot more than you think we do.”

  I was stunned to silence. Bryan and I were practically strangers, sharing only blood and no history. But this man had managed to cut straight to the core, spoke to me like an adult when all the others in my life never had. Everyone sympathized with my pain while Bryan empathized. He understood and he didn’t judge me for trying to cope in the only ways I knew how.

  I forced myself to meet his gaze, still a little unsettled by seeing such similar eyes looking back at me. “I get it. I am trying, really. I… sometimes, it’s like I’m sabotaging myself.” Blaming the alcohol, I couldn’t believe I gotten that honest.

  Bryan nodded sagely, necked the rest of his beer, and stood up. “I think you’re going to be all right,” he said, smoothing the top of my head. “Except for tomorrow,” he chuckled. “You’re gonna be hurting something awful tomorrow morning. Let me know if you need anything, but you should get to bed as soon as you’re sure you’re done retching.”

  “Good night. Thanks.”

  I sat by the toilet, feeling more sober than I had in months. I didn’t think my mom had deliberately done it, but she’d sent me to the one place in the world where I had half a chance of healing.

  It was at least an hour past my normal bedtime, but I was still so wired from the festival and the fire I knew I would never get to sleep. Plus, I wanted to wait for Bryan. He’d been upstairs with Dani for quite a while, so I made myself useful. After quietly loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, I double-checked our emergency supplies, just in case. After pacing around the house a few times feeling at a loss, I sat back down on the sofa. Hot coals glowed in the fireplace, the fire dying down for the night.

  I took a moment to take in our Christmas tree, the first real one of our marriage. The Marsh family house where we lived for the first couple years of our relationship was nowhere big enough to have a tree like this. We made do with an artificial one covered with a hodgepodge of ornaments and homemade decorations.

  But this tree… this tree was something else. Ten feet tall, miles of Christmas lights buried deep inside so it looked as though it glowed from within. Bryan’s mom had even sent us a few boxes of heirloom ornaments to add to our collection. This time the year before, I was about halfway through my pregnancy with Jack, just coming out of my horrible morning sickness phase. All I could think about was making sure Jack’s first Christmas was perfect. I bought eighteen different “Baby’s First Christmas” ornaments, all of which found a spot on the tree.

  These were rare moments of peace when I could stop and reflect. Through the busy, hectic pace of day-to-day life, there were times when I felt like I hovered above my body, just a few feet up and to the side. It was like watching somebody else live my life, move my hands, run my errands. I couldn’t believe this was actually how I turned out. Surely, this had to be an alternative universe I woke up in one day. How could I have gone from all that shit with Rick and Kayla to this?

  I’d married a wonderful man, was mother to a beautiful son, living a life I never would’ve dreamed of, even in my most stretching fantasies. Sure, we had our ups and downs, like everyone else. Unfortunately, our downs were a lot more dramatic and public compared to others. But I learned to embrace the fame that came with being the Blizzard’s wife. The good with the bad.

  Dani’s behavior had thrown me into an introspective mood. I tried so hard to empathize with her; it brought back so many old memories. My mom’s death, the Christmases we had spent together, how badly I wished she were around to meet Jack. The girl was hurting, I could see that, but her dad hadn’t died. Suffering a traumatic brain injury meant a long road of recovery, sure, and there was no guarantee of complete healing. But he didn’t die over there. He came home and she still had him… I tried to sympathize, but it was difficult to view her actions as anything other than childish, even selfish.

  I was so lost in thought, I didn’t hear Bryan return. I jumped and spun around when he tapped me from behind, only to see a chilled glass of wine hovering over my shoulder.

  “Oh, I could kiss you,” I said as I took the glass.

  “That can be arranged.”

  “Did you look in on him?” I asked, nodding towards the monitor.

  “Yeah, sleeping like a little angel.” He stoked the fire, turned off the lamps, and took a spot next to me on the sofa. He curled an arm around my shoulders and I settled into the crook of his armpit. “What do you have going on tomorrow?”

  I sighed, a deep weariness threatening to seep into my bones. “Oh, not a lot. Just all the prep and baking for Christmas. I still have presents to wrap and I said I’d help run out some of those donated dinners at some point. I’m gonna go up to the lodge and hand out the staff gifts. How about you? The fire hall all set up?”

  “As much as we could. They can only hold twenty people at most. But it’s the only solution we have right now. I’m afraid it isn’t enough. We’ve already gotten triple what they predicted and the storm hasn’t even started. Still, we have to do something to help people out.”

  “And it took forever for the fire trucks to show up tonight. What’s it going to be like a day from now? Two? The weatherman didn’t have good news.” Bryan grunted and I shook the thought clear. Too many crises building at once. “Did you and Dani have a nice talk?”

  “It was good, actually. She seemed more receptive than usual. Maybe we should get her drunk more often.” Bryan gave my shoulder a squeeze and lovingly kissed the top of my head. “I know you two will work it out. You just have to keep trying. Don’t expect too much from her right now.” I hadn’t given him the fu
ll details of our arguments, half because I didn’t want to worry him and half because I hated the light it painted me in. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t connect with her. Every little thing I did seemed to annoy or insult her. You’d think after nearly a month together, we’d have something to talk about.

  I snuggled in closer. We sat in silence for a few moments, just watching the lights twinkle on the tree, the flicker of the fire. Shadows danced across the darkened room and for the briefest moment, everything felt right in the world.

  Just then, the floodlights flicked on outside and bathed the living room in bright light. They were controlled by motion sensors, meaning something large enough to trigger them was within range of the house. Bryan stiffened beside me, shifting as though he wanted to investigate.

  I grabbed his arm and hushed him. “It’s probably just a deer or raccoon. Those damn lights are too sensitive to begin with,” I said, hoping to reassure him. I wanted to stretch this moment as long as possible.

  He hesitated and gave my hand a squeeze. “Lemme look real quick.” I watched as he made his way to the windows, his frame silhouetted against the bright light. He still walked with a bit of a limp, but I was probably the only person who didn’t notice it anymore.

  “You remember we met around this time of year,” I said with a soft smile. The statement drew his attention away from the windows.

  He gave me a funny look, as if he were wondering what I was up to. “Of course I do,” he replied. He slowly returned to my side, plucking his beer from the table and clinking it with my wine glass. “And I haven’t had a moment of peace since,” he joked.

  I rolled my eyes and paused with the wine at my lips. “Do you ever regret it? Getting involved the way you did?”

  His brow furrowed as he turned to face me fully. “Why would you ask something like that?”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it,” I said, patting his leg. “It’s just… well, meeting me certainly brought a lot of chaos into your life. There must be moments when you…”

  “Sweetheart, you saved my life. I was totally out to sea when I first met you. Your specific brand of insanity brought me back from the brink,” he replied quickly. “From the moment you flipped me off on that bridge, I was hooked.”

  I didn’t know what to say. We’d talked about it, sure, but I’d never heard him come right out and say it in so many words. I’d always carried around a burden of guilt at what my presence had done to his life. I was like the Pied Piper of bad karma, leading little rats of evil into people’s lives.

  “Do you regret getting involved with me? All the fame, the attention…” he said, unable to meet my eye.

  “I didn’t even know what the hell The Blizzard was,” I laughed, shaking my head. I still remembered Googling his name and being shocked at all the results. Downhill skier, his father’s death, rumors of being an abusive playboy with a substance abuse problem. “Seems almost impossible now, doesn’t it?” He snorted and nodded, still waiting for my answer. “No, absolutely not. You saved me, too. Figuratively and literally! You were there for me when I needed help, even if I fought you along the way.”

  The wine, the lights, the amazing open conversation… we both gazed into each other’s eyes for a few heartbeats, truly seeing each other. In the craziness of everyday life, running the mountain, raising a kid, trying to keep the momentum going on our side projects, we didn’t get many moments where we could just sit and be.

  He took my hand and threaded his fingers with mine. “Do you remember the Christmas Eve we spent in my granddad’s cabin?”

  My head rocked back as I chuckled. “Nope. Not a thing about it. What happened again?”

  He shifted closer and I felt that familiar flutter in my chest. “I could tell you… or I could show you,” he said, his hazel eyes lifting to mine.

  “I seem to remember something happening in front of a fire…” I said with a squint, as if trying to summon a deep memory.

  The corner of Bryan’s mouth curled as he slid even closer, his head dipping low to find my mouth. This was no Mommy, Daddy quick peck as we parted ways for the day. This was Bryan and Liz… hot, heavy, insistent. Our lips touched, his tongue warm and soft against mine. As he’d always done, he left me breathless and wanting more.

  I watched the way the light danced across his features, looking so similar to that first night we’d spent together in front of a roaring fire. I’d completely bared my soul that night, utterly prepared for him to run and hide. I showed him the scars I’d thought would always define me. And now, I hardly remembered they were there. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have him in my life. Just as I leaned in for another kiss, he stopped short and surprised me with a question he’d never asked before.

  “Do you ever think you missed out?” he asked quickly, again, not meeting my eye.

  “Missed out?” I repeated, confused.

  “Yeah, I mean, because I’m the only one you’ve ever been with.”

  I rush of air left my nose as I leaned back, almost as if the question had knocked the breath out of me. “Honestly?” He looked up at me with a glimmer of fear in his eye that threatened to break my heart. “I’d never even thought about it.”

  “I’m being serious…” he started.

  “And so am I! Why would I ever,” I said as I pushed him back against the sofa, “want another man,” I continued as I straddled him, “when I have you?”

  Bryan grinned despite himself as his hands slipped under my thick sweater. My body hadn’t completely bounced back from the pregnancy yet. Stretch marks, the poochy stomach… but the self-consciousness was all in my head. Bryan never made me feel like anything other than the sexiest woman in the world. The heat we’d felt back in Walt’s shop immediately reignited, just as quickly as the fire behind us.

  “Is it totally weird I’m into this given everything we went through tonight?” he whispered against my neck.

  “We just have a different threshold for stress compared to other people,” I replied as I reached down his pants.

  Jack made a few faint cries on the monitor behind us. My hand froze an inch away from my prize. We both held our breath, hoping Jack was only stirring a little and would go right back to sleep. But the wail that echoed through the monitor, and the rest of the house, shut everything down.

  I collapsed against Bryan’s shoulder. “That little guy can be such a cock-blocker,” I laughed. I slid to the side, my leg still draped across his lap.

  “I’ll go take care of him. Meet you upstairs in bed?”

  I stared into his eyes and thanked every bad decision and stroke of luck that had gotten me here. “It’s my turn. You go check outside ‘cause I know you want to.”

  He tilted my chin up and kissed me deeply, my chest arching in response. He lifted my legs, stood, and folded me back onto the sofa.

  “If I fall asleep, wake me up,” I said, biting my lip as I watched his ass as he walked away.

  December 23rd

  I woke up the next morning with my head resting on Bryan. Before I opened my eyes, I laid listening to the beat of his heart. The gentle rise and fall of his chest nearly lulled me back to sleep until the litany of the day’s tasks came flooding into my mind.

  I have to go to the lodge and hand out presents, bake cookies… shit, I need to go to the store and get baking powder first…

  And then the weight of the night before crashed down around me. Walt. A weary sadness threatened to derail the serene moment. It was bad enough his shop and apartment went up in flames, but having to stand there and watch it burn was insult to injury. Plus, the arsonist was growing braver. To do it in the middle of town with so many people around? Ballsy and terrifying.

  As much as I didn’t want to, I softly rolled from under Bryan’s arm and slipped from the bed. I plucked my flannel bathrobe from the corner chair and stepped into my fuzzy leopard print slippers. Hey, I never claimed to be a style icon. Before heading to the bathroom, I shuffled over to a window to
check how much snow had fallen overnight.

  Bryan didn’t have to go into work early, so I was looking forward to a peaceful breakfast by ourselves. The morning light streamed through the window, almost painful with the whiteness outside. The pine branches weighed heavy with a few inches of fresh snow. Everything looked picturesque and perfect, just like the Tellure Hollow I’d fallen in love with. I squinted into the brightness, rubbing my bleary eyes and searching for a point of reference. Every surface was coated with thick white powder. It wasn’t until I studied the terrain that I realized how much had actually accumulated.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered harshly.

  Bryan groaned and rolled over. “What is it?” he asked groggily.

  I looked back into the dark room, my eyes blinded and slow to adjust. “I think we’re in for a rough couple days.”

  When we opened the front door a few minutes later, we were met with at least two feet of fresh snow. The wind had drifted the fine powder against the house, leaving a perfectly straight, rigid barrier of snow. Bryan tipped over the delicate edge with his toe, frowned, and shut the door.

  “That’s a lot more than I was expecting.” He sat at the counter while the smell of freshly brewing coffee filled the kitchen. I glanced over his shoulder to see he was checking the weather on his phone. “The storm totals haven’t changed since last night,” he mumbled.

  A pulse of concern rippled through me. “I can’t help feeling like they don’t really know what’s happening. They like to act like they can predict down to the centimeter, but look,” I gestured. “That was supposed to be a couple inches. The real storm isn’t meant to start until later today and we were already getting snow last night.”

  “Two inches to two feet, that’s quite the difference,” Bryan noted with concern.

  “Can you imagine? They’re saying we’re supposed to get what… five feet total? If they got two inches wrong, we’d end up with twenty!”

  “It’s not unheard of,” he shrugged. “Better get crackin’ on those cookies or we won’t have anything to eat.” He lifted his phone to his ear to listen to his voicemail.