by Janie Crouch
As soon as he stepped away from his vehicle, he could no longer see it. Coupled with the howling wind, it was truly disorienting. He was literally going to have to run into Mac’s truck in order to find her.
He walked until the rope pulled taut, then began walking perpendicularly as far as he could. He stopped, staring straight ahead as something caught his attention. Had he seen some flash of color in the whiteness? Mac’s black truck maybe ten feet ahead?
The only way to know would be to let go of the rope.
Gavin would not be like Billy Bradshaw—would not be overconfident in his abilities. He would take every care and precaution.
Gavin unhooked the rope from his jacket and moved very carefully, counting his steps and keeping them as consistent as possible. He would give himself ten steps, and if he hadn’t found the truck at that point, he would backtrack the exact number of steps he’d come.
It was a solid plan, but it was still absurdly dangerous.
At five steps, he wasn’t any closer to seeing anything and was fairly sure he’d made a mistake.
At step nine, he ran into the corner of the back bumper of Mac’s truck with his legs. If he had been another six inches farther to the right, he might’ve missed the truck completely.
He kept his hand against the vehicle as he moved up toward the front, praying when he got to the door he would find Lexi inside. He couldn’t see anything.
“Lexi!” He found the handle and pulled it open.
A shrill shriek greeted him, but it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. Lexi was here. She was alive.
“Lexi, it’s Gavin.” He climbed inside the cab, pulling the door closed behind him. It was definitely warmer in here out of the wind.
“Gavin? What are you doing here?” She scooted over so he had more room, water and snow dripping from him everywhere. He shuddered as his body adjusted to the change in temperature.
“Mac got worried when you didn’t come back. Richard at the drugstore told us you went to the Sublette County pharmacy.”
She was pale, her hair a mess, more disheveled than he’d ever seen her. “I didn’t know it was going to be like this. I thought I had time before the storm came in.” She started rocking back and forth. “I wasn’t sure what to do. When I ran off the road, I didn’t know if I should stay in here or if I should try to find shelter and I—”
Gavin reached over midsentence and yanked her against him, plastering his lips to hers. It was part kiss, part prayer of thanks, part branding—she was his.
All he knew was there was no way he couldn’t not touch her right now.
If she had gotten out of this truck . . .
“You did the right thing,” he finally said when he could force his lips to let hers go. “This is a whiteout—so much worse and sudden than a blizzard. They don’t happen very often. Staying in the truck was the right thing to do. You would’ve been dead long before you made it to any sort of shelter, if you could’ve found your way at all.”
“How did you find me?”
He took off his gloves and trailed his fingers over her hair. “We used the truck’s GPS system.”
“It had to have been dangerous for you to come out here in this.”
He leaned his forehead against hers. “I had to try.”
“You risked your life for me. Thank you.”
He pulled back. “Don’t thank me yet. I’ve still got to get us back to my SUV and then were going to head for the Cactus Motel, which is about three miles away.” Getting there wouldn’t be easy. “We’ll have to hunker down there until the storm is done.”
“I have some supplies. I bought them at the drugstore, although I should warn you that I tried one of the nutrition bars, and they are pretty gross.”
He had to chuckle at that. “But they’ve got what your body needs. They won’t taste so bad if that’s all we have to eat for a couple of days.”
“What my body really needs is the mimosa supplies I bought.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You have champagne and orange juice?”
She shrugged. “They had it at the drugstore. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
He winked at her. “By all means, bring that too.”
Some of the tension left her face, a little color returning. She’d been scared. He didn’t blame her. This truck felt a little like a tomb. Hell, it might have become one if the snow drifts had gotten high enough.
That wasn’t going to happen on his watch.
But he knew the most dangerous part of this was still in front of them. It was going to take every bit of training and instinct that had been honed over years of both serving in the Special Forces and teaching classes on wilderness survival at Linear Tactical to get them back to his SUV.
Then they had miles to drive in the blinding snow. Equally as dangerous.
One crisis at a time. They needed to get back to his SUV. There was no way he’d be able to get this truck up the embankment.
She still had that same jacket that wasn’t anywhere near suitable for what she was about to walk through. He couldn’t give her his own jacket, but he could give her some of his other clothing.
He handed her his gloves and unbuckled his coat. “I’m going to give you one of my shirts and my gloves. It’s gotten a lot colder out there, and you need every layer you can get.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve got a lot more mass as well as muscle. It will keep me warmer longer.” He pulled his black Henley over his head. She slipped off her own jacket and pulled his shirt over her head.
“Warm.” She snuggled into it.
He couldn’t begin to unpack how much he liked the sight of her in his clothes. Right now, he had to stay focused on keeping them alive. She slipped her jacket back on, and he helped her into the gloves.
“What’s the visibility like out there?”
He wasn’t going to lie to her. That wouldn’t help either of them. “Basically zero.”
“Do you know where your SUV is?”
He gave her a one-shoulder shrug. “Nine steps one and a half feet apart at a seventy-five-degree angle from your truck’s back right bumper corner.”
“That’s very specific.”
“Specific is the only way we’re going to survive the walk from your vehicle to mine in that whiteout. Staying here is not an option.”
“Gavin, I’m so sorry. You have to think that I’m a complete idiot—”
He put a finger over her lips. “You were trying to get Mac the medicine he needs. That’s anything but stupid. By the way, the hospital had enough to get him through a couple of days, so he’s going to be fine. Annie had Zac deliver it.”
“Thank God.” She bit her lip. “I was afraid I had driven myself out here to die in a Wyoming ditch and Mac was going to be in danger anyway.”
“You’re not going to die in a Wyoming ditch.” He grinned at her. “You might die trying to get out of a Wyoming ditch, but it’s not the same.”
They loaded the stuff they’d be carrying—hell yeah, he’d be bringing the mimosa ingredients—into their pockets. “When we get outside, you can’t let go of me for any reason. I’m going to need both hands to get us to the truck. It’ll be loud, so we won’t be able to talk. Your one job is to hold on to me and not let go.”
She nodded. “I’ll never let go, Jack, I’ll never let go.”
He rolled his eyes. She was quoting Titanic to him at a time like this? But at least she was keeping her sense of humor. “If memory serves, Jack ended up dead because of an iceberg. Maybe that’s not entirely appropriate.”
He made sure both of them were wrapped up as warmly as they could get, then grabbed the lapels of her jacket and pulled her until their faces were only a couple inches apart. “Thank you for trusting me.”
She leaned her forehead against his. “Thank you for coming to get me when almost nobody else on the planet would have known I was gone, much less searched for me.”
There was sti
ll so much he wanted to know about this woman.
But instead he said, “Let’s go. Ready?”
She nodded, and he opened the door. The sound of the wind was immediately deafening, and the tidal wave of white was as disorienting as it had been the first time. He got out of the truck then reached back to help her. He closed the door then tucked her hand around his jacket at the back. He had to trust her to hold on, because he couldn’t make sure she had him and get them back to his SUV. She was trusting him; he would have to trust her.
He kept a careful hand along the truck and slid until they were at the back corner of the bumper where he’d first arrived. This was where things would really get tricky. If he messed up the angle, messed up the length of his steps, messed up nearly anything, they might be pulling a Billy Bradshaw.
Breathing in the bitterly cold air, Gavin took a step away from the relative safety of the truck.
He focused on keeping his body at the exact angle it needed to be for all nine steps, not allowing the wind or his inability to see to move him off course. He didn’t reach behind himself to make sure Lexi was still there. That would make it harder to know if he was still going straight. She was there. He trusted her.
Step eight . . . Step nine . . . He reached down his hand, praying his fingers would touch the rope.
They did.
Using the rope he pulled them rest of the way to the SUV. He’d left the engine running, not willing to take a chance on anything freezing up. He scooped Lexi inside, then climbed in behind her. They were both shuddering and breathing heavily. Gavin held his hands out to the heater vent, wincing at the pain the lukewarm air brought to his fingers.
It was cold even inside the vehicle. They needed to get into a building.
He hit the call button to get Kendrick back on speakerphone.
“Gavin, shit, man. Thank God. Are you okay? Did you find Lexi?”
“Yeah,” he managed to get out. “I got her. We’re okay, but we need to get inside somewhere that’s better shelter.”
Making it the three miles to the Cactus Motel seemed nearly impossible.
“I found a small warehouse on State Road 191 only half a mile from where you are. I got up the building specs for it, and it’s got an office. I contacted the owner, and he said there’s an emergency key behind the mailbox. It lifts off. Said to help yourself to anything.”
This was why Gavin loved Wyoming. Everyone was willing to work together in a situation like this. “Thank you, Kendrick. You’ve been busy.”
“Let’s get you guys somewhere safe. Then you can buy me all the drinks I want to make up for it.”
“It’s on the house,” Lexi said. “As long as you don’t tell Mac.”
18
Gavin was unflappable driving the short distance to the warehouse. The way he had been getting them back to his SUV. Focused. Controlled. Steady.
If this was how he’d operated under pressure while he was in the military, no wonder they’d given him the codename Redwood. He was solid. He faced down the problem, then handled it.
Just being next to him calmed her. She hadn’t told him, but she’d been pretty damned close to panicking inside that truck when he’d arrived. She wasn’t prone to claustrophobia, but sitting there listening to the wind had been eating away at her sanity moment by moment.
She’d never been so glad to be scared to death by someone.
Having him next to her now, she was glad to give over control to someone else. He obviously had way more experience dealing with this sort of situation, and she was more than happy to give up the reins.
And snuggle down into his shirt.
With condoms burning a hole in her jacket pocket.
They’d been in the same bag as the nutrition bars, so it’d been easier to grab them both. Yeah, she’d just keep telling herself that.
Kendrick stayed on the line with them until they found the small warehouse. Gavin drove the car so close to the building he could actually touch it when he opened his driver’s side door.
“You wait here while I find the door and the key.”
He was gone before she could respond, not that she would’ve argued much anyway. It hadn’t taken them more than ten minutes to get from Mac’s truck to his SUV, but she had no desire to go back out into that biting wind for a single second longer than she had to. This had definitely convinced her about the need for a proper coat.
But the moment he was gone, the all-encompassing white surrounded her again. She had to fight back panic, despite knowing Gavin was only a few feet away. Today was the first time she’d actively wished for some of the pills Nicholas and Cheryl had given her. At least the benzodiazepines—usually Xanax or Valium, she’d found out later as she’d gone through withdrawal—they’d encouraged her to take had caused her not to feel anything. That was better than the crippling fear that she’d trapped herself inside a vehicle-shaped tomb.
“You’re okay now.” She said it out loud in the hope that would make it true. But still she counted the seconds until Gavin reappeared.
Gavin was back 367 of them later. He jumped in and slammed the door behind him, shuddering. “Got the key. We’re all set.”
She nodded, throat a little tight. She was being ridiculous.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, then shrugged. “The white, the wind . . . they’re starting to get to me.”
“Believe me, that’s a real thing. It can make you a little crazy. Being inside where you can’t see or hear it will help restore your equilibrium and settle your nerves.”
She nodded, having to blink back tears and resist the urge to cover her ears with her hands. She had already been enough of a burden to Gavin; she wasn’t going to be a complete nincompoop.
He grabbed the two blankets he had in the back of his SUV. “We need to take anything we may want with us. This may be over in three or four hours, but it could be three or four days. If the latter is the case, the snowdrifts will make it impossible to get back to the vehicle for a while.”
The cold was just as biting this time as they got out in it. Gavin set her hand against the building and pressed on it, obviously signifying that she wasn’t to let go. He didn’t need to worry, she wasn’t planning on it. She was well aware that if she lost touch with this wall it was all over.
They moved together, hand on the wall, until Gavin stopped them. They must be at the door. He opened it, scooped an arm around her, and pushed them both inside, closing it behind them.
It was impossible to see anything for the first few seconds, the contrast between the blinding white of the snow and the darkness in here quite jarring. Eventually, their eyes adjusted to the dim light.
“Okay.”
The relief in his voice was apparent. He might have been stoic out there under the worst of circumstances, but he hadn’t been unaffected. He just hadn’t let stress or fear get in the way of completing his mission.
“I’ll bet you were one hell of a soldier,” she mumbled.
“I didn’t fight in many blizzards.” He chuckled. “But I’ll always be thankful for my training in the army. It’s saved my life multiple times over.”
“Including today.”
“Definitely including today.” He shot off a message to Kendrick letting him know they were safely inside, then turned to her. “Let’s find the office and set up camp. I could definitely use one of those nutrition bars you bought. I don’t care how bad they taste.”
“You spent a lot of energy getting us to this point. You can have all the nasty bars you want as a reward.”
The office was in the back corner of the small warehouse. It wasn’t much—two desks, a sofa, and a small fridge in the corner. There was a tiny electric space heater over by one of the desks.
“Go ahead and turn that on.” He set the blankets down on the couch. “We want to get it as warm as possible in here in case we lose power, which is likely. I’m a little surprised it hasn’t already happened.”
S
he did as he asked while he pulled a small rug from under one of the desk chairs and pressed it in front of the door to help keep the heat inside.
For a long while, they just sat in front of the heater. He ate one of the bars, but she shook her head when he offered her one. There was no way she could stomach any food right now, especially something as dense and tasteless as that.
Eventually, it became warm enough for her to feel her fingers again and to take off their jackets and shoes. Everything was dripping all over the floor as the ice on it thawed.
Gavin shrugged as he hung the coats over the chairs to help dry them and put their shoes near the door. “We’ll have to pay the owners for the electricity and any damages.”
She would worry about the money for that later. “Plus anything they have in their minibar.” She pointed to the fridge.
“My dad travels all the time for business but won’t ever touch anything in a hotel fridge. He’d rather walk two miles to get something from a grocery store than pay minibar prices.”
She smiled at that thought. At one time, it would’ve never occurred to her to worry about how much something cost. Not anymore. “What does your dad do?”
Gavin shrugged and walked over to the fridge. “Um, sales. Development. He wears a lot of different hats.” He opened the fridge. “Looks like our minibar options include three cans of Dr Pepper, a Snickers, and half a bottle of ranch dressing.”
“I’ll definitely take the soda and Snickers if you’re the one paying the minibar charges.”
“Deal.” He tossed her both.
They sat for a long time in comfortable silence. It got warm enough in the small room that Gavin slipped off his long-sleeved shirt and now wore only his T-shirt. She made a tremendous effort not to stare at the well-defined muscles of his arms and chest under the fitted shirt.
She was probably warm enough to take off his Henley but had no plans to do that anytime soon. The fact that she found his essence surrounding her soothing said all sorts of things she was not going to think about.
She concentrated on her candy bar instead, couldn’t help but close her eyes in bliss as she took a bite.