Still the One

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Still the One Page 12

by Susan May Warren


  “Will it work? This place is stunning. They’d be crazy not to hold it here.”

  Claire smiled. “Thanks. I thought the great room would be perfect for the ceremony, with the lake as the backdrop.”

  “Yes. I can imagine it. Spectacular.” Megan pulled her phone from her bag and looked at the time. “Should we show her? I’m really excited about this location, and she should be ready for us.”

  “Yeah, let’s do that. See what she thinks.” Claire pulled out a pen.

  Megan punched in Mariah’s number. They’d already had a few long calls to discuss the wedding and Mariah had a very clear vision.

  “Hey—how’s it going?” Mariah appeared on the screen, her long, pale blonde waves cascading around her face and her ring light reflecting off her bright blue eyes. The woman was photo shoot ready.

  “Good. I’m here at Pine Acres with Claire Atwood. Are you ready to do a walk-through with us?”

  “Sure. I’m excited to see it.” Mariah adjusted her phone in her hand and Megan could see a sleek, modern kitchen in the background. White cabinets and black stone countertops. Yeah. Megan’s entire apartment would fit inside that kitchen.

  Megan took care to angle her phone so that only the lake and windows showed. If Mariah’s own home said anything, it said luxury. “I need to warn you, first. There’s some remodel work going on. It’s a bit of a mess right now.”

  “Oh?” Concern tinged Mariah’s voice. “Is that going to be a problem? I mean, will it be done in time?”

  “Yes.” Megan looked at Claire who gave a reassuring nod. “Absolutely.”

  Megan stepped out of the way so the camera picked up the windows, the expanse of snow, the frozen waters of Evergreen Lake. A private, remote location. Exactly what Cameron and Mariah asked for.

  “What do you think?”

  There was a long pause on the other end and Megan turned her phone to make sure Mariah was still there.

  “It’s gorgeous. But what about the remodeling project?”

  Megan turned her phone to show the unfinished kitchen. “It’s a little hard to imagine right now, but it will be gorgeous. We’ll put a massive floral arrangement on the center island, around hors d’oeuvres, for the cocktail hour, and then we can easily serve from the kitchen.”

  She turned her phone back.

  A furrow had creased Mariah’s brow and it wasn’t fading. “I’ve got to be honest with you. After the last fiasco, I’m kind of gun-shy about getting tangled up in a venue that could fall through.”

  “It won’t, I assure you.” Even if Megan had to paint and install the cabinets herself. She was pretty sure she could figure out how to use a screw gun and not lose her fingers.

  Mariah chewed her lip. “I’m really worried about this, Megan.”

  “I won’t let you down. It will be magnificent.” She stepped over three buckets of paint and a toolbox. Time for the sell. “Imagine the chairs will be set up here.” Megan walked away from the windows across the half-finished floor. The couches were draped in plastic drop clothes. “Those couches by the fireplace will be removed.” She turned back toward the center of the room. “We can put the aisle runner here. And—look at this.” She turned the camera toward the high ceilings with open beams and the broad fireplace along the back wall. At least one thing was untouched by the remodel.

  “It is beautiful. I can see the potential.”

  “Privacy won’t be an issue and your guests can stay at the Evergreen Resort across the lake.” Megan had carefully inventoried every one of the bridal party’s needs and wants. All two hundred and sixteen of them. And Pine Acres—a fully remodeled Pine Acres—exactly matched their dream location. “We’re about six miles out of town.”

  “What about the photographer?”

  “Cole—my, uh, assistant—has secured and scheduled the photographer you requested.”

  “And the fire and ice roses?”

  Megan handed the phone to Claire.

  “I confirmed with my supplier I can get those. Did you see the photos of the sample arrangements I sent you?” Claire said.

  “I did. I sent you a reply back, but now that I’ve seen the room, I think we’ll want to go with four of the large displays.”

  Claire wrote a few notes. “Okay, perfect.” She handed the phone back to Megan.

  “Megan, I can’t believe all you’ve been able to pull together on such short notice. Thank you for doing this.”

  The knot in Megan’s gut released. “My goal is always to give the bride and groom their dream wedding, regardless of how much time we have to plan.”

  Claire’s phone buzzed and she pulled it from her pocket to read a message.

  “Oh no.” She groaned. “I’m so sorry, ladies—I have to run. Apparently Ruby has a fever and is vomiting all over the babysitter, and Jensen’s still on EMT duty.” She shook her head. “Parenthood.” She tugged her coat back on. “Would you lock the door on your way out?”

  “Sure, I can do that,” Megan said.

  Claire leaned into the phone picture. “Thanks. Mariah, I’ll catch up with you later to finalize your flower order.”

  “Absolutely. I hope your daughter feels better soon.”

  Claire left, and Megan started down her preparations checklist with Mariah. By the time Megan finished the tour of the upstairs dressing areas and detailed discussions, the sun hung low, the last rays of light disappearing from the western sky in deep purple and magenta, casting a kaleidoscope across the snowy landscape.

  She locked the door on her way out. The house had been cool, but it was nothing like the icy gust that hit her when she headed to her Subaru. She’d have to pick up dinner before getting Josh from practice. She turned her heat on high and backed out of the parking spot.

  They’d need to plow the road better for the wedding guests. The private road hadn’t been cleared regularly—only what Jensen had done with his tractor. The pine trees edging the drive hung heavy with snow, icy crystals sparkling in the twilight. She steered the car down the winding road and glanced at the clock. Hopefully practice ran long tonight.

  She began her mental list of everything left to take care of. Cole had taken control of the plan, but it was still her name on the business. Her responsibility. Her future.

  A dark blur blasted out of the trees.

  Deer!

  She slammed her brakes, locking her seatbelt, and her gaze immediately searching for a second deer—they always came in twos. Yep—right in front of her, the first deer having escaped.

  Her car slid on the ice, out of control, heading for the beast.

  She screamed. Closed her eyes. Ducked.

  Please let her not kill it.

  Please let it not destroy her car, pulverize her windshield.

  Bam! The car slammed into something, jerking to a halt. She opened her eyes when the tilt of the car brought up images of plunging down the embankment toward the frozen lake. Her notes were scattered across the floorboards along with the contents of her purse.

  No sign of Bambi.

  But she’d plowed into another tall berm of snow. In the moonlight, she could see a thin swirl of steam rising into the night from her hood. She threw the gearshift into reverse, nudged the gas. It didn’t budge. She turned down the heater fan and listened to the rumble of the engine. Didn’t sound too bad.

  She pulled out her cell phone. Just a little bit of juice left in the battery.

  If she called Cole, he’d come. But then of course there he’d be, back in her life, all muscular and rescue-y and frankly, her heart couldn’t take it.

  Besides, she’d managed on her own for a long time. She didn’t need to be rescued.

  What she needed to do was put on her big-girl pants and hike back to Pine Acres for a shovel like she’d have done any other time this had happened. In fact, like she’d done any number of times in her life. Just not in heels. She snugged her coat collar up around her neck, gauging the distance she’d driven. If only she hadn’t dressed u
p for today’s appointment. Her high-heeled boots and skirt were less than ideal for trekking cross country.

  She got out, tucked her chin, and headed back down the dark road. Several times she thought she heard the long howls of wolves, but when she paused, she only heard the wind shifting the heavy-laden branches.

  By the time she reached Pine Acres, her feet had numbed to the pain and dark shadows chased her the final steps. The cold bit at her and, despite locking it herself, she tried the front door anyway with the dim hope she might not have latched it.

  There had to be a window unlocked, right? She tried the first window. Locked. Then the next. Again, locked.

  Unfortunately, Pine Acres Resort had been skillfully secured. But the house sat on a rise above the lake, creating a daylight basement that opened on the lake side of the house. Megan hiked through the deep snow—maybe someone had left the door unlocked.

  She’d lost feeling in her feet a half hour ago. Even if she found a shovel, it was too cold to hike back to the car.

  The wind off the lake tore tears from her eyes when she ventured toward the lower level, feeling her way down the slope in the inky darkness. Her eyes strained to focus on the steps to the lower level, lit by a small outdoor light over the second story.

  Just as she reached the door, her foot slid on a patch of ice, pitching her body backward. She scrambled in her slick-soled boots, unable to find any purchase, then landed flat out on her back, staring at the clear, cold night sky.

  Oh, joy.

  She caught her breath, rubbing her right elbow with her other hand. It smarted where it had hit the snow and ice-covered deck. Okay, come to think of it, most of her body hurt. She tried to roll to her side, but her right foot was stuck. Pushing herself upright from the ground, she squinted into the darkness. Her boot had wedged through damaged slats in the decking.

  She tugged. It wouldn’t come free.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  The harder she pulled, the more the wood slats dug into her ankle.

  She yanked out her phone and tried to revive the dark screen. Resisted the urge to chuck it into the snow when it refused to light up.

  And then she thought of the fisherman who’d had to amputate his own arm to survive.

  Umm… No. Not that desperate. Yet.

  She unzipped the boot, trying to release her foot from it. Better to go barefoot than be stuck in the snow. She couldn’t get it past her ankle bone. The wooden slat had locked her in. She pulled harder, the wood digging into the thin leather over her swelling ankle.

  Oh, God. Please.

  She kicked at the boards with her other foot until the bones began to ache and the icy chill had found her core. Her whole body began to shiver. Not even her thick Minnesota hockey-mom coat could keep her warm forever. Her fingers and toes burned. The temperature had been dropping since the sun went down and the wind whipped the air around her.

  “Help!” Her voice soaked into the night. Thin. The universe of stars looking down on her. Reminding her how very small and alone she was. How maybe nothing really mattered at all. Maybe she didn’t really matter at all.

  And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

  The verse Pastor Dan had read during last Sunday’s service.

  Her body shook as the cold burrowed in and she hunched sideways against the steps, trying to conserve heat. Josh would be wondering what happened to her. That troubled her more than anything. More than the cold that burned her fingers, despite her gloves.

  No. This couldn’t be happening. She kicked at the boards again and again, twisting her ankle back and forth to break free until the throbbing became too much.

  Her entire body screamed with the cold.

  “God! Please!” She didn’t care who else heard her. But her voice died in the frozen grip of the night, falling back to her. Again, not enough. Not even for God.

  Chapter 8

  “Hey Cole, it’s Darek. Is Megan there with you?”

  Cole tried not to panic at the tone in Darek Christiansen’s voice through the cell phone. “No, I haven’t seen her. Why?” He set down his hammer, tossed nails into the box on his living room floor.

  “It’s just that she didn’t show up to pick up Josh from practice. That’s not like her.”

  Not like her at all, and that added a fist to his chest. “I haven’t seen her this afternoon, but she’s probably over at the church.” He hoped for it more than believed it. Nothing would keep Megan from being there for Josh.

  “Everyone else has left the rink. I told Coach I can take Josh home with us, but we’re getting worried about her. Ivy tried to call her cell phone several times and it goes straight to voicemail. I’ll call around to a few more people. Maybe Claire knows something.”

  Cole was already picking up his keys. “If you find her, let me know.” He was out the door even before Darek hung up. Sliding into the Jeep, he drove around the corner to the church. Pastor Dan was at the entrance, just locking up. Cole rolled down his window.

  “Have you seen Megan?”

  Outside, the twilight had surrendered the sky to night.

  Dan turned from the door. “Earlier today. She left several hours ago.”

  “If you see her or hear from her, please tell her to call me.”

  “Will do.”

  Cole’s phone rang as soon as he got back onto the street. Darek again. He clicked it to speaker phone. “Did you find her?”

  “I just heard back from Claire. She said she had to leave Megan at Pine Acres because her daughter got sick.”

  Pine Acres. The venue for the Crawford wedding. “Can you give me directions?”

  “Sure.”

  Cole pulled off the road and jotted down the directions to Pine Acres Resort. It didn’t make any sense that Megan would miss picking up Josh and not call.

  “We’re taking Josh home with us for dinner,” Darek said. “Let us know if you find her at Pine Acres.”

  Ten minutes later, Cole put his Jeep in low gear on the partially plowed road. Megan was no stranger to driving on these back roads. She’d made it clear that Minnesota flowed in her veins.

  He came around a curve and his headlights lit up a vehicle jammed into a snowdrift on the side of the road. Megan’s Subaru, off the road and canted sideways into the ditch. At least he’d found her.

  Maybe she’d had another PB and J mishap. He let out a breath as he stopped his Jeep next to her car.

  He grabbed his flashlight from the console, jogged to the vehicle, and opened the door.

  Empty. His heart sank. Scattered paperwork was strewn across the floor mats.

  Why would she leave the car? Whatever would have made her go out into the freezing darkness?

  “Megan!” His voice echoed in the night. “Megan!”

  His light bounced around in the darkness as he searched for footprints.

  A small-heeled shoe print, headed back the way she’d come. Toward Pine Acres. Good—at least she wasn’t outside because by the feel of it, the temperature had dropped back into the single digits.

  He drove down the road, watching for any redirection of the footprints, but they went all the way to the main estate house. But when he drove in, the house stood dark, lifeless.

  And the little hairs on the back of Cole’s neck stood on end.

  No Megan.

  Please, God. Please keep her safe.

  He didn’t know if it qualified as a prayer, but the words lifted from his heart. She was somewhere out in the cold, frigid blackness.

  He left the vehicle, scrambling through the snow to the front door, his gut tight. “Megan!” He knocked and rattled the front door. “Megan, are you here?” Only silence met him, cut by the faint cry of wolves in the distance.

  His flashlight scraped across more footprints that traveled around the side of the house, toward the lake, and he followed them, stepping into the deep snow

  He cupped his hands a
round his mouth. “Megan!”

  “Help!” He heard her faint call and rounded the house.

  The snow fought him, but he forged through it, finally sliding down the hill in his scramble to get to her.

  The sight nearly unraveled him. She was lying on her back in the snow, her foot wedged through the deck planks. And she shook, the cold deep in her core.

  “Mae.” He crouched over the top of her. He wasn’t one to panic, but the sight of her collapsed, clearly hypothermic, unraveled the last hold he had on his calm.

  She gave him a half smile. “H-Hey, Ranger. I c-can’t tell you how good it is to s-see you.” Her teeth chattered, tears splashing down. “It’s so c-cold.”

  “Shhh, Mae, it’s okay.” He tried to free her boot. It wouldn’t budge so he began working her boot off. “How did you do this?”

  “I d-don’t know. I was trying to f-find an unlocked door or w-window and I slipped. Couldn’t get my f-foot back out. D-dumb way to d-die.”

  “You aren’t going to die.” He stripped off his coat and wrapped it around her before trying to free her foot a second time. The board held fast. “Your ankle’s swollen and it’s not coming out of that boot. I think if I lift you, we can pry you free.”

  “Okay. W-Whatever you need to do. It b-beats amputating my leg.”

  “We’re not amputating your leg.”

  “I was trying to be f-funny.”

  He slipped off a glove, pressed his hand against the bare skin of her face. “It’s not funny, Megan. You’re freezing cold.” He tugged his glove back on. And got behind her, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her up, into his arms, moving her body forward.

  She cried out, and he bit back a groan but managed to reach down and free her heel. Then he scooped her up to carry her. Now to get them inside, because he didn’t have time to drive them back to town. Not the way her body heat was dropping.

  “How long have you been out here?”

  “I d-don’t know. An hour?” She curled her gloved fingers into his coat. “The house is locked. I already tried. I’m l-late to get J-Josh.”

 

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