She nodded. The parka nearly swallowed her, but her shivers had already slowed. I set a hand on her shoulder.
“Are you all right? That was . . . that was nasty business back there.”
She nodded again, the muscles in her neck tight. How had she survived such a fast-moving event? How easy it would have been for me to miss her. If I hadn’t glanced to the left at the exact right moment, I never would have seen her brake lights. The flashing brights. If the Zombie Mobile didn’t amble so slowly, I couldn’t have stopped in time to help.
To arrive seconds before she plunged into the river.
Unable to contemplate that thought further, I set it aside. Right now, I had to make sure we both remained intact.
“I’ll get us to Adventura safely.” I put the old truck into drive again. “I promise.”
My muddled brain turned back to the road, which looked like a white cloud. By now, the canyon would be closed. I doubt we’d see any other cars, which made it all the more miraculous that I’d found her.
“Okay,” I muttered. “Here we go.”
Striking off into the white set my hair on edge. Definitely the worst storm I’d seen since moving back to Pineville late last winter. Lizbeth’s recent scrape with death didn’t help my nerves. Still, I forced my mind to focus on the path ahead.
The road rumbled if I drifted toward the edge, which helped me stay in the middle. We crawled along at twenty miles an hour. Lizbeth clutched her seat belt, nostrils flared. She held her breath when we crossed the river over the bridge that would take us to my home, a camp named Adventura on the other side of the canyon from Pineville.
Seconds later, the Zombie Mobile roared through eight inches of fresh powder without a problem. That’s when my mind opened again. Under the canopy of trees and the comforting rock faces on either side of the valley, I let out my first metaphorical breath.
The universe had been kind to Lizbeth, but Lizbeth could also be a gift for me. With Lizbeth at my side when I returned, I wouldn’t have to explain to Mark why I’d been in Jackson City on a random Friday night.
Everything happened for a reason.
I wasn’t a full-on hippie, but I was zen enough to believe that.
3 Lizbeth
JJ’s intent concentration on the road helped me stop my mental sobbing and get a hold of myself again. If I had to speak, I’d lose it.
Absolutely lose it.
Despite the horrifying conditions, he appeared as laid back as ever. JJ had always been easygoing. Quick to smile. He was calm water compared to his boundlessly energetic twin, Mark. I couldn’t have picked anyone better to be my saving grace.
Or so I hoped.
The fact that I was plunging into the snowy mountains with a man I didn’t really know—despite my raging crush on him—didn’t escape my notice.
Snow fell in buckets as JJ smoothly navigated a pristine lane. The mountains loomed overhead, dark specters behind the snow. The wind slowed slightly. Frigid air crept in from the windows and the bottom of the truck, which I strongly suspected had a hole beneath a wooden board at my feet. The old thing smelled like rust and hot dogs.
“Adventura is just around the corner,” he murmured a few minutes later. “We’ll get you all warmed up, Lizbeth.”
JJ and Mark Bailey were enigmas. People spoken of constantly in our small mountain town, but rarely seen. Mark and JJ had returned to Pineville around the same time I did. They came late last winter to open Adventura, a summer camp. I came back after graduating college in May. The summer with them in town had set my world on an awkward axis.
Every time JJ came into the Frolicking Moose for a green tea, my heart somersaulted. Maybe it was his olive eyes, subdued but bright. Or his corded, muscular arms or equally strong legs. His climbing expertise was legendary. His affinity for hiding in the rocks made him even more popular.
The Zombie Mobile, the name Mark had given his truck, sputtered to a stop next to a bank of snow, then died. JJ chuckled. Through a thick blanket of snow, I could barely make out a building in the dim headlights. Relief coursed through me so profoundly I sagged.
Safe.
The wintry world gave only a few clues to the building that seemed to lurk in the storm. A flash of warm light appeared, then vanished. JJ looked at me. For what felt like the first time that night, I really saw him.
My heart almost seized again.
Gentle hazel eyes. Long hair pulled into a sloppy man bun at the back of his head. With his wiry, strong shoulders, quick smile, and tight jaw, he was the picture of masculine grace. He regarded me with concern and compassion.
“You okay?” he asked.
A thousand replies surfaced on my tongue, but I forced them back. “Yeah,” I croaked. “Getting there. Th-thank you.”
“Your car just plunged into an icy river in the middle of a snowstorm, and you almost went with it. It’s okay if you’re not really feeling great.”
He slapped on a panty-melting smile that would have reduced a lesser woman to goo.
“Let’s get inside,” he said. “Both of us could use something very warm.”
Snow blasted the back of my neck as I stumbled out of the truck. I couldn’t feel my toes. The storm swirled in eddies of ice as I attempted to wade forward. JJ reached out, clamped a hand on the parka, and guided me to him. Once he was at my side, he hooked an arm around my shoulder and all but held me up as we trudged through two feet of snow. He wore a long-sleeved gray shirt that fit him a little too well.
Only a few feet away stood a wooden door. We hurried inside and were greeted by a blast of blessed heat.
“You’re alive, J-man.”
A man with black hair
