Jennifer Faye - Snowbound with the Soldier

Jason turned to the lobby doors and gazed out at the parking lot. He rubbed his thigh, trying to ease the persistent throbbing. He had a business to rebuild and no time to slow down.

The grand reopening in three weeks had to go off without a hitch. All his investors would be on hand to take part in the festivities, and their approval was of the utmost importance, especially if he wanted more capital to undo the years of neglect.

He knew he could never again be the man in Kara’s life. Still, he had to find a way to get her to stay on at the resort. He needed her knowledge to make this a smooth transition.

But when she preferred braving a snowstorm to staying safe here with him, how in the world would they be able to work side by side?

CHAPTER TWO

THE HYPNOTIC SWIRL of flakes made it difficult for Kara to focus on the winding mountain road. The cascade of snow hit the windshield harder and faster with each passing minute. She flicked on the wipers. The built-up ice on the rubber blades made an awful ruckus. Swish. Thunk. Swish. Thunk.

The knowledge that Jason was now her boss haunted her. She’d thought that, with the resort sold, any lingering ties to him would be severed. How could she have been so wrong?

A bend in the road loomed ahead. Her foot tapped the brake a little too hard and the car lost traction. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she started to skid.

Stay calm. You know how to drive in this weather.

Thoughts of Jason vanished as she turned into the skid. Like a pinball shot into action, the vehicle slid forward. Trees and the guardrail whizzed by in a blur. In an attempt to straighten the car, she spun the wheel in the other direction. Her throat constricted. At last, she came to a stop in what she hoped was the middle of the road.

That was way too close.

The pent-up air whooshed from her burning lungs. She rested her forehead against the steering wheel, trying to calm the frantic thumping of her heart. She silently sent up a thankful prayer.

On her way to work that morning, the radio announcer had mentioned the possibility of light snow flurries this evening but never alluded to a foot of snow. And it still continued to fall.

She let off the brake and crept forward, anxious to put as much distance between herself and Jason as possible. Would she ever be able to sweep away the tangled web of attraction, woven tightly with strands of resentment? She sure hoped so, because as long as she lived around here, they were bound to run into each other. After all this time, she’d expected to feel absolutely nothing where he was concerned. So why did she let him get to her?

She exhaled a frustrated groan and glanced down to crank up the heater. When she looked up again, a brief flash caught her attention. Her gaze focused off to the side of the road, where her headlights reflected off a pair of eyes staring back at her. A millisecond later, a deer darted into her path.

A screech of terror tore from Kara’s throat as she tramped the brakes, braced for the inevitable collision. Like a skater on a sheet of ice, the car careened over the slick pavement. At the last second, the deer jumped over the hood, just as the front tires dropped off the pavement.

Kara’s foothold on the brake slipped, sending the car off the road. She pitched forward, but the seat belt jerked her back, slamming her into the door. With a thud, her head careened into the driver’s side window. Pain splintered through her skull. The sound of ripping metal pierced the inky darkness.

At last the car shuddered to a halt. The air bag thumped hard into her chest, sending the breath whooshing from her lungs. She clung to the memory of her daughter’s sweet smile.

* * *

With newly attached chains on the SUV’s tires, Jason drove cautiously down the curvy mountain road. Soon he’d be home, enjoying a piping-hot bowl of leftover stew. His stomach rumbled in anticipation.

He stared out the windshield at the dark, desolate road. When he was a kid, there would have been a string of headlights passing him as anxious skiers flocked to the resort to try out the fresh snow. Tonight, the only evidence of another soul on this road was the faint outline of tire tracks.

Was it possible they belonged to Kara?

The thought of making peace with his childhood sweetheart weighed heavily on his mind. He didn’t blame her for still being angry with him. She had every right to be furious over the way he’d walked out on their engagement. He’d probably act the same way if their roles had been reversed. No, he’d have been worse—much worse.

If only there was a way to make her understand that even though he’d handled it poorly, his leaving had been the only answer. But he had no idea how to convey that to her without going into the details of that fateful night, and that was not something he was willing to do. Not even to save the Summit, his birthright.

The wipers were beginning to lose their battle with the thickening snow. He turned on the vehicle’s fog lamps, hoping they’d give him a better idea where he was on the road.

The tire tracks he’d been following suddenly veered to the right. His stomach muscles tightened. Trying to get a rescue squad out for an accident during this storm would take hours. He’d best go investigate first. He gently applied pressure to the brakes. The tires fought for traction, sliding a few yards before the SUV stopped. He glanced around, not spotting anyone standing next to the road. Not a good sign. They could be injured or worse.

He grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment and flicked the switch, sending a light beam out the window. He squinted, trying to see through the thickening snow. At last he spotted the tracks. They led off the road into a gulley. Concern sliced through him. Please don’t let it be Kara.

He threw the SUV into Park, switched on the flashers and jumped out. Wet snow tossed about by the biting wind stung his face. If Kara was out here, he’d find her.

With his hand shielding his eyes, he marched forward. Piercing pain shot down his thigh as he forced his way through a drift. He gritted his teeth and kept moving. From the edge of the road, he shone the light down at what appeared to be a ten-foot drop. At the bottom was a car with its front end smashed against a tree trunk. Whoever was in it was in need of help.

He’d just started down the embankment when his foot slipped. Hot pain shot through his knee and up his thigh, and his eyes smarted as he choked back a string of curses. Beads of perspiration ran down the sides of his face. But he couldn’t stop now. He had a mission to complete.

His fingers curled around a branch and, using his good leg, he regained his balance and sucked in an unsteady breath. He massaged his knee, hoping he hadn’t just undone the surgeon’s long hours of reconstructive surgery, and weeks of physical therapy. Cautiously Jason flexed the joint. A new wave of agony swept up his body and socked him in the gut. It might hurt like the dickens, but it still worked. That had to be a good sign.

When he reached the two-door coupe, he tapped on a snow-covered window. “I’m here to help. Open up.”

The window inched down, letting the buildup of flurries spill inside. Jason flashed his light into the dark interior. A hand immediately shot up, shielding the occupant’s eyes from the glare.

“Jason?”

“Kara?” He leaned down, trying to see her better. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know. I think so.” Her breathy voice held an eerie squeak. “There was a deer. Then the car skidded off the road. The door’s stuck and my phone won’t work.”

“Okay, slow down. First thing we’ve got to do is get you out of there.”

She started pushing on the door with her palms. He tried pulling on the handle. Without warning, she slammed her shoulder into the door. A grunt followed, but she pulled back, ready to repeat the process.

“Stop!” He used his drill sergeant voice, hoping to gain her attention. “Sit still.”

“But I smell gas.”

The mention of a gas leak shot a dagger of fear through his chest. Jason surveyed the area with the help of the flashlight, soon spotting the reason the door was stuck. The bottom was jammed against the embankment. The passenger door was pressed against a tree trunk.

“I need out!”

“Wind down your window the whole way.”

“It’s stuck.” Her eyes grew round as her palms pressed against the glass. Her fingertips slipped through the opening and curled over the edge. “Help me.”

The frigid wind continued to throw snow through the opening. With these low temperatures, he needed to get her out—fast. He kicked the ground, hoping to find a rock beneath the white blanket of frozen moisture.

At last, armed with a decent-size rock, he used his drill sergeant voice again. “I’ve got to break the window to get you out. Turn away. And cover your head with your coat.”

She did as he instructed, and soon he was assisting her through the opening. When her foot sank down into the deep snow, she lost her balance and pitched to the side. He caught her, hugging her slight form to him. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, pulling him closer. When her head came to rest on his chest, he breathed in the faint scent of strawberries. The feel of her body next to his and the enchanting smell of her all came together, jumbling his senses.

Unable to resist the temptation, he ran his fingers over her golden locks. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re safe now.”

Her weight shifted fully against him. Warmth filled his chest. After all those long, lonely nights in different towns and countries, Jason felt as if he’d finally found his way home. He never wanted to let her go.

A gust of wind threw wet snow in his face, bringing him back to his senses. He shouldn’t be holding her. It was wrong to enjoy their closeness. He’d sacrificed that liberty years ago. And he was no longer the same man she’d once known.

He held her at arm’s length. “You’re bleeding.”

“I am? I don’t feel a thing.”

He cupped her face in his hands. A crimson streak trailed from her forehead to her cheek. Please don’t let it be serious.

“Are you sure? No headache? No double vision?”

“Nothing.”

Ever so gently he wiped away the blood with his thumb. When he found only a minor cut, he breathed a little easier. “Tell me if you start to feel bad.”

She nodded.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, punched in the numbers for help and held the device to his ear. After a few seconds, he moved, positioning the phone in front of him. “I can’t get a signal. Looks like we’re on our own.”

She shivered, wrapping her arms around her midsection. “How will I get my car out of there?”

He gave her a quick once-over. Aside from the small cut, he didn’t see any other signs of trauma. “The car’s not going anywhere tonight. And if you smelled gas, we aren’t taking any chances. The tow truck people can deal with it tomorrow.”

Her body shook and her teeth chattered. “Now...what...am I going to do?”

He worried about shock settling in. He was certain the accident had been horrific enough, but then to be trapped, even for a brief time, might have been too much for her.

“My SUV’s up on the road. We need to get you warm.”

He ushered her up the short embankment to his vehicle, which still had the engine running. After she climbed in, he reached behind the seat and pulled out a blanket. “This should warm you up.”

He was about to close the door when she said, “Wait. I need my stuff from the car.”