This well-tested lesson about time and consequences brought me to one conclusion about my present situation: “I don’t think I’m going to make it,” I said aloud inside the crowded cab of my SUV, my voice strained.
Natalie pulled her nose from the window and the swirling white world beyond it. “Cripes, Vi. That registered around an eight-point-five on the doom-and-gloom scale.”
“I’m reminded of an article I read about the Donner party’s final lucid moments before they succumbed to cannibalism,” Cornelius said.
I scowled at the leap he’d made between my despair and an urge to gnaw on another human. “If it comes to that, I’m eating you first, Cornelius.”
“Sparky pro’ly needs to step outside and write her name in the snow,” Harvey said from the front seat, his focus out the windshield. The wipers were starting to lose the battle against Mother Nature, struggling to keep the glass clear.
I followed his gaze, my eyes landing on the snowplow listing in the ditch in front of us like a battered ship. It blinked methodically in the waning light, beached in a sea of white swells. Maybe I should go jump off its helm.
“Violet.” Doc stared at me in the rearview mirror. “You know that going outside right now is a bad idea.”
How did he know I’d been pondering diving headfirst into a snow bank?
Harvey shifted, glancing Doc’s way. “Maybe so, but it’d sure make my bladder gladder if I went out there. Hell, my inkwell is ‘bout to start leakin’, too.”
“I don’t need to use the restroom,” I told my fellow lifeboat members.
“What did you mean then about not making it?” Natalie asked, her eyes searching my face. “You’re not going to start flipping out, are you? Because now is not a good time to start foaming at the mouth.” She wrinkled her nose. “You’ll get me all wet.”
“I’m not going to flip out.”
A squawk came from the back of the vehicle.
My left eye twitched at the sound of Addy’s dang bird. Twice. I looked away, trying to hide the telltale sign of my fissures widening on the inside.
“I saw that,” she said, pointing at my face. “You’re starting to twitch. Doc, you need to calm her down.”
I glared at her finger. “What is Doc supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, kiss you senseless to take your mind off the current situation.”
I guffawed. “Come on, Doc’s good, but it’s going to take more than a kiss to make me forget that we’re stuck out here in the middle of nowhere in a stupid freaking blizzard and it’s all my fault because none of you would be here with me, risking your lives, if I hadn’t put my career before my children.” That last bit came out as a croak due to running out of air.
Silence filled the cab, all eyes on me.
“No offense, Doc,” I whispered, blinking back a swell of guilt and anger and frustration all condensed in a couple of stupid tears.
“None taken, Boots.” He twisted in his seat and took my clasped hands in his. “I’d rather be here with you in the middle of this storm than anywhere else right now.”
I blinked several more times. It was no wonder my heart sighed like a lovesick skunk whenever he was near. “Stop being nice to me when you should be telling me that I was an idiot to pooh-pooh the storm predictions.”
Harvey snorted. “This is a bunch of turkey hooves.”
I recoiled. “What?”
“This whimperin’ business of yers is a bushel full of nonsense. We’re here by choice. If we didn’t wanna come, we’d have dug in our heels and stayed put down in Deadwood.”
“Yeah, but if I’d left yesterday with the kids instead of waiting until this afternoon—”
“Then Harvey, Corny, and I would all be alone for Christmas,” Natalie finished. “Instead, we’re lucky enough to be hanging out in this cozy cab with you.”
Another squawk came from the back seat, louder this time, followed by several indignant-sounding clucks.
Natalie chuckled. “Elvis is glad, too. She would’ve been stuck in the basement for days if it wasn’t for you.”
I looked back at Doc, whose hand still held mine. “But what if we’re stuck here all night?”
“Coop’s coming,” Natalie said, growling something under her breath that sounded like damn it.
“But what if he doesn’t make it?”
“He’ll make it,” Doc assured me, squeezing my hands once more before letting them go.
“What makes you all so certain?”
Harvey pointed in Natalie’s direction. “Coop’s sufferin’ from Cupid’s cramps, and we got his cure-all sittin’ here with us. He ain’t gonna let anything happen to her or the rest of us, fer that matter. If he says he’s comin’, ya can count on him like warts on a toad.”
Natalie’s gaze tightened. “I told you before, there’s nothing going on between Coop and me.”
He hooted back at her. “Well, then someone better tell yer eyeballs that, ‘cause they get big and googly when Coop steps into the room.”
She gasped. “They do not, you ornery blowhard.”
My eye twitched again. Ignoring their bickering, I nudged Cornelius’s arm. “I need you to take my mind off our current predicament. You know, like you did when you took my phone.”
He stared out his window. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
Wait. What? I leaned closer to him. “What do you mean, ‘No, thank you’?”
“You’re not my type, Violet.”
Not his … I shook my head, feeling like I’d missed something. “What are you talking about?”
He spared me a glance. “I’m not into blondes.”
My jaw tightened. “What do you have against blondes?”
“Studies have shown brunettes have stronger immune systems and are, therefore, less susceptible to diseases and stress.” He jabbed his thumb in Natalie’s direction. “Case in point—that brunette is playful and relaxed while your escalating stress level is making your eye twitch.”
I covered my twitching eye, looking over at Natalie’s flared nostrils and red cheeks
