Finding Love in the Snow

Some days aren’t worth the effort of putting on makeup. This was one of those days for Marissa Williams.

She stood in the doorway of her boyfriend’s apartment, not believing her eyes. But there he was, Tyler Smith, her boyfriend since middle school, embracing another woman.

Still not certain, she checked the number on the door. It was the right apartment, but how could this be Tyler, the only man she’d ever dated? The one she’d given up a scholarship to the college of her choice so she could go to the college of his choice. The man she thought was going to propose to her on Christmas Eve.

His face was the same as the old Tyler. The apartment furnishings were the same. He was wearing the Ralph Lauren shirt she’d given him as a birthday gift.

This had to be her Tyler.

But who was that strange, blonde, female snake coiled around him on his sofa?

“Who are you?” the snake hissed as she uncoiled slightly.

The scene sucked everything out of her, leaving her an empty shell standing in the rubble of her hopes and dreams. She had no wand to zap the intruder kissing her Tyler or broomstick to flee on after she did.

Tyler didn’t try to untangle himself from this girl, his only reaction was a crooked smile on his lipstick-smudged face as he sat there still embracing his companion. “Hey, Marissa. What are you doing here? I thought you were coming tomorrow. It’s not Christmas Eve already, is it?”

He didn’t rise to greet her or try to explain what he was doing with this other woman. He simply stared at Marissa like she was trespassing. The man she had loved for practically all her thirty years had no shame or guilt showing in his eyes.

“Babe, can you come back later, and we’ll talk?” the two-timing buzzard said as the snake coiled around him again. “I’m a little tied up right now.”

An invisible sledgehammer hit her gut and almost knocked her down. Her legs wobbled slightly but moved enough to carry her away from the awful scene. Her mind could take no more. She left Tyler to his snake.

Not waiting for the elevator, she rushed down four flights of stairs to the lobby and burst outside into the gray afternoon of Denver, Colorado. Standing in front of the apartment building, tears threatened to fall from the blackness inside her.

Her brain was too stunned to remember where she’d parked. In her haste to surprise the love of her life, she’d forgotten what her rental car looked like. It was red. Maybe that and the key fob in her pocket would be enough to help her find it.

Walking down a row of parked cars, she saw a red Toyota Camry nearby that looked promising. Walking to it, she heard the door locks click as its fob neared. Success on one level was better than none.

The interior of the car made a nice cocoon where she could isolate herself from the world. No tears came even though they wanted to. No screams of anguish arose because the energy needed for them was gone.

Her mother would say she was in shock. She needed to rest. But where? It was far too early to check in at her hotel. She couldn’t sit in her car in the parking lot for hours. She had to get away. As far away from Tyler as she could.

Without looking back, she left the parking lot and drove nowhere specific. She just drove. The many streets gave her innumerable options limited only by her gas tank.

As she went by a shopping center, she spied a coffee kiosk. Caffeine might kickstart her brain.

As she waited in the drive-through line, she felt the need to talk to someone. Someone who would provide a calm voice of reason. Who?

Not her mother. She would freak out when she heard of Tyler’s betrayal and be on the next plane to Denver. The scene between her and Tyler would be too ugly for Marissa to witness. After that, her mother’s analysis of Marissa’s mistaken beliefs about him—she wasn’t ready for that.

Her mother could wait.

The young woman in the kiosk seemed cheerful as she handed Marissa the steaming cup of peppermint bark latte. It was good but not right. The aroma was too festive. She should have ordered black coffee to match her mood.

She sipped her beverage as she wandered around the streets of Lakewood in her car, not caring about where she was as long as it was moving away from Tyler. It was too early to check into her hotel, leaving her adrift in an ocean of strangers, concrete, and self-pity.

Her phone rang, pulling her attention back from the brink of crying. Without her consent, the Bluetooth function answered.

Hello? Marissa? Are you there?”

The voice of her best friend from college brought welcome relief.

“Abby! How did you know I needed a friend right now?”

Marissa pulled into the parking lot of a Food-N-More store and stopped. She told Abby of the horrible sight that had turned her surprise back on her. She poured out her grief as her friend listened without interrupting. Abby had always been a good listener which was what Marissa needed more than anything. Maybe she could expunge it all from her soul and move on like it never happened.

When the story was told, Marissa finally took a breath. “How am I ever going to get over this?” she asked, begging for an easy answer.

“First off, take a deep cleansing breath. You need it.”

Although Abby’s calm tone eased Marissa’s anxiety, talking to her only magnified all she’d lost. Abby was happily married with one child and another on the way and still had time to do her daily meditations and yoga. She had everything Marissa wanted, but it was now further out of her reach.

The call wasn’t helping. The only way to end it was to do what was requested. Marissa took a deep breath.

“Good,” Abby crooned. “Don’t forget to breathe. Oxygen will make you feel better. As far as Tyler goes, all I can say is you should be glad you found out what kind of man he is now instead of wasting more time on him.”

That all the advice she had? Marissa had hoped for something more profound. “But how can I be glad when I’ve wasted my life on that bum?”

“Your life isn’t over yet. There’s lots ahead of you, and you want to go through it with a man who respects you and treats you royally. Tyler is not the one for you. Let him go and look ahead for someone else.”

So easy to say. So hard to do. “But, Abby, I loved him. I can’t toss that aside like an old coat or wash it away like dirt.”

“Agreed. It will take you a while to move on, but you can and will. Frankly, I warned you about him in college. Remember?”

A bad feeling stirred inside Marissa’s hollow chest. This was no time for I-told-you-so. She’d have called her mother if she wanted that.

Abby went on. “Walk away from him. Don’t waste any more time on a loser.”

The truth hurts, especially when you don’t want it to be true, but Abby was right. She’d given Tyler all she was going to give him.

Abby must have put her hand over the microphone because muffled sounds came through. When she finally came back, she said, “I have to go, Marissa. Little Miss Someone didn’t make it to the potty in time, but I do have an idea for you. Before Zach and I had kids and we had the time and money to go on skiing vacations, we stayed at a place in the mountains outside of Denver called Spruce Canyon Lodge. Lovely rustic place owned by really nice people. They have one room with a fireplace and a hot tub. Call them and book that room. Go relax and think about how lucky you are not to be marrying that jerk. Count your blessings and you’ll feel better in no time.” More muffled talk came through. “Gotta run now. Love ya, girl!”

The call ended. Abby might have a stinky, dirty mess to clean up but with a little water and air freshener, it would be gone. If only Marissa’s stinky, dirty mess was that easy to clean up. Hers would take a whole lot more work and time.

She searched the web for the phone number of the Spruce Canyon Lodge. Ski season and Christmas break were in full swing so rooms might be scarce.

Good fortune smiled on her when she got through. The room with the hot tub was available for the night so she booked it. It would take two or three hours to drive there but it didn’t matter. She had nothing but time and needed to get as far away from Tyler as she could.

Would this nightmare ever end? Every muscle in Marissa’s body was tense, her knuckles white as the snow outside the car window. Her car slipped and fishtailed on the icy road like it had a mind of its own and wanted to go back to the dry roads in Denver. She should have never listened to Abby.

What was she doing here? That unfaithful Tyler had driven her to it.

The few cars passing her didn’t seem to have a problem driving on ice, but this girl from Dallas had no business on a snowy Colorado mountain road in an unfamiliar rental car.

The road got worse as she made her way higher up the mountain. They said the snowstorm had left the area as forecasted, but if that were true, what was that stuff falling out of the sky? Looked like snow to her.

The white road blended in with the white surroundings. How did people drive in this stuff?

The car slipped again, taking her breath away. Maybe if she gripped the wheel tight enough, the wheels might grip the snow and go straight. Or she might bend the steering wheel into a pretzel.

Maybe she should turn around. But Tyler and his snake were that way. Maybe she could keep going. Her GPS said it wasn’t much farther. She’d come this far without dying, maybe she could make it the rest of the way.

Deep regret didn’t help with the traction. With every slip and slide she released her pent-up emotions into the car’s cocoon. She hated snow. She hated driving. She hated Tyler for making her risk her life driving in snow. She’d wasted the best years of her life with a man who had an empty heart. And head. He’d be the biggest loser in this deal when she cut off all his season tickets and trips. Let that bimbo buy all that stuff for him.

The tires slipped again and a scream escaped her lips as she tried to maintain control. Going slower didn’t seem to be working. Maybe she’d get there faster if she got out and walked. In Dallas, she could do the nine miles easily, but uphill in at these elevations, the thin air wouldn’t fill her lungs as full as they were used to being.

Resigning herself to the slow pace, she kept pushing on.

Mother Nature had decorated the mountains for Christmas. Snow-laden trees marked the slope on one side of the road. On the other, icy water bounced and foamed around snow-covered rocks and ice in the river below.

Going around a curve, the car slid again. The road edge seemed nearer than ever so she steered back toward the middle. The road wasn’t wide enough for her liking, especially on her side where it dropped straight down to the river. There were no visions of sugarplums in her head, only visions of being upside down in her car in the river. Driving on the wrong side of the road became more appealing.

The headlights of a line of vehicles trailed her. Even though she might be impeding local traffic, she was going as fast as she dared. For self-preservation, she kept up her snail’s pace. They would have to be patient with her.

Most of the line behind her turned off when she passed a sign about a ski area. When they reached the first straight section of road, the vehicle behind her roared around, throwing up so much snow in its wake, she drove blind for a few seconds. The driver couldn’t hear her complaints but she threw them out anyway. A jerk! That’s what he was, endangering others on the road.

Fire swelled in her. This was all the fault of that black-hearted, good-for-nothing buzzard named Tyler. If he’d been faithful to her, she’d be snug and warm in Denver. Instead, she was risking her life to get to a place Abby said was relaxing. It better be, or Abby would hear about it.

She should stop thinking about Tyler or Abby or the river so far down she couldn’t see it anymore or the mountain that disappeared into the cloud or the snow falling on her windshield. Concentrating on driving was more important now. Keeping her eyes on the road, she crawled along the windy road. A blinking yellow light gave hope that some sort of civilization lay ahead.

Her car decided to do its own steering, eliciting a shriek from its driver. The car spun so far around she was sideways in the road, facing the cliff edge. Her heart felt like a kettle drum mimicking the sound of cannons in the 1812 Overture.

She leaned her head against the steering wheel, eyes closed as she took deep breaths to calm her nerves, heart, liver, kidneys, and all the other organs that felt her terror. Her eyes burned and blurred as a tear hit her wrist. She teetered on the threshold between maintaining control and losing it. Like the snow piling up on her car, she felt buried, unable to get out of her predicament.

But no one was coming to help. It was all up to her.

Conjuring a few bits of courage, she backed away from the edge and swung her car up the road. According to her GPS, she was only five miles from the lodge. Her focus had to stay on the hot tub. It was getting closer with each turn of the wheel.

A couple of trees appeared on her right. A comforting sight, they were like a guard rail between her and the river.

She glanced at the GPS again. Only four and a half more miles to the hot tub and relief from the stress. The water would feel good on her cold feet. She could almost—

A violent jerk spun her car, making everything white go black.

Patience had never been one of Jared Sullivan’s virtues, and what little he had was stretched to the limit. On his way to make a grocery delivery to the Spruce Canyon Lodge, a red car creeping along the road blocked him and the many skiers on the way up the hill. The snow squall and the twisting road prevented any of them from passing the snail-paced car, wasting his precious time away from his Sullivan’s Food Mart in Milo Creek.

The snowplow operator going downhill waved at him as he made his way along the winding road. The large blade threw snow away from the highway like a rooster’s tail. He had probably been working all night to keep the road to the ski area clear.

Once Jared got to the only place to pass, he sped around the fishtailing car and went his way without any more problems.

His heart and his car sped up as he passed a ravine that went uphill out of sight. Bearkiller Slide area. The ravine was the site of many avalanches, so many that a blinking light flashed a warning. The area was blocked by a slide at least once a year, making drivers familiar with the route hurry past.

Three white crosses on the side of the road marked where the snowslide killed a family fifteen years ago. He’d never forget it. The girl had been in his class at school.

The few trees growing out of the top of the cliff above the river amazed him with their tenacity. Somehow, they’d taken root in almost solid rock and thrived there despite being buffeted by the edges of the avalanches.

While nature could be beautiful, it could also be deadly. A moment of carelessness might be your last. It triggered both appreciation of its beauty and high regard for its hazards.

Not one to waste time, he arrived at the lodge, unloaded the groceries while declining to stay for lunch, and quickly headed down the hill. Being shorthanded at the store during the holidays meant long hours at work. The sooner he got back, the better.

A list of things to do scrolled through his head like an epic movie’s credits. Managing his crazy-busy grocery store during Christmas week was always a challenge. Bookwork, inventory management, and ordering were constant. Stocking shelves, cleaning, getting rid of the last of the Christmas trees, deciding what goes in the clearance bin. It was the busiest time of year.

He came around a corner just as a snowy cloud enveloped his SUV like a dense fog, blinding him from seeing what was happening outside.

But he knew. Bearkiller was running!

His heart pounded as his nightmare came to life. He threw his SUV into reverse and gunned it. Unable to see the road edge, he didn’t go far before he slammed on the brakes. Was he far enough away to avoid being caught?

The reverberation and snowy cloud continued for several minutes before it eventually thinned and trees and mountainsides reappeared. A few large snowballs rolled down the clumpy mass of snow and over the cliff edge to the river far below. The road was completely blocked beneath tens of feet of snow.

He’d told Chad Morgan, his assistant manager, he’d be back as soon as possible. Possible just became hours long.

Something caught his eye as he stared. He blinked several times, still not believing what he saw. Parking his SUV, he ran toward something red shining like blood against the snow. As he got closer, he recognized it as a red car fender sticking out of the edge of the slide beside a tree.

His heart stopped cold. Would there be four crosses now? He wanted to run away but something stopped him. He was no coward but feared what he might find. He didn’t have the stomach for death, but he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t try to help.

Clawing at the hard snow with his bare hands, he yelled out asking if someone was there. This would never work. He ran back to his vehicle and got gloves before starting to dig again. Occasionally stopping to shout, he listened for any hint of a response. Hearing none, he resumed digging.

Sweat started to soak his inner clothes, and his fingers were getting numb. He stood up and leaned back to take a large breath. Checking his watch, five minutes had passed since the avalanche had run. If he didn’t get the car door cleared soon, his efforts would change from a rescue mission into a recovery effort. Not wanting that, he let out another yell asking if anyone was there.

Just as he bent to dig again, he heard a muffled sound from the car.

“Where am—?” A female voice let out a moan.

“Hang on!” He yelled with all the hope inside him. “I’m coming for you!”

The snow flew like a snowblower as he clawed it away.

The voice inside the car came again, only this time in a scream. “Help!” The southern drawl broke the word into two syllables.

A shrill shriek followed, giving Jared something to aim for. The snow soared past him until his hand brushed against the car window. He pushed the rest away to reveal a face misshapen with terror. Snow filled most of the car. The back window must have busted out, leaving only a space where her head, one shoulder, and one arm were clear. She struggled to dig her other arm out.

A jolt of adrenaline gave him renewed strength to push the last of the snow away from the car door. He pulled on the door handle with all his might. It didn’t move.

“Push on it as I pull,” he shouted before trying the door handle again.

The door groaned against the effort, opening only a crack before stopping again. No amount of pushing or pulling moved it.

The woman inside began to beat on the window. “Get me out!” Both her hands were red, and her fingertips had a blue hue.

“I’ll get something to break the window,” he shouted as he began to back away.

“Don’t leave me!” she screamed.

Assuring her he’d be right back, he ran to his SUV and dug through his center console until he found an orange tool. Running back, he held it against the window. “Cover your face with your hand.”

After she followed his instructions, he shattered the glass. Brushing the shards away, the woman grabbed onto his coat. He used the razor on the tool to cut her shoulder strap away. “Can you help me get the snow out of the way?” he asked as he reached inside.

Her feeble attempts did little as he clawed the snow around her. As he leaned inside her car, he made a mental note to carry a shovel during the winter. They’d be out of here if he’d had one.

Glancing upslope, he knew if a secondary slide came, they were both goners. With renewed energy, he scooped out snow until her other arm was uncovered. Before he could free the rest of her, the lap belt had to be cut to get her out. Lying on his stomach, he reached in and raked more snow away from her body. When he thought he was close enough, he pushed his hand through the snow toward her hip. He felt the strap that held her and cut through it with his tool. She was free.

She wrapped both arms around his neck as he leaned back and pulled. Her body moved slightly.

Her hand latched onto his wrist with a vise-like grip as her other hand searched for its own handhold. Jared put his arms around her torso and pulled. Slowly, her body moved. With a final tug, he slid her out of the car window. They lay side-by-side, panting on the snow. A small snowball bounced past them.

“We have to get out of here,” Jared said as he got to his knees to help her. His arms around her, he pulled her up. She tried to walk but her legs wouldn’t hold her. He lifted the slim woman and walked toward his SUV.

On the way, she began to wriggle, almost causing them to fall. “My bag. I’ve got to get my bag.”

Jared put her down and steadied her. “There’s too much danger. We’ll get it later.”