Luke pushed open the cabin door, bringing an icy blast of air with him. He’d stamped his feet on the mat outside, chunks of snow falling off his legs like mini avalanches, but remnants of white still clung to his jeans well above the knee. He’d managed to brush most of the snow off on his chest and arms, acquired while attempting to clear his windshield.
Amelia rose, turning to face him, her gaze dancing across him, before moving past him to the truck visible through the open door.
“Trouble?” she asked.
He closed the door. “Battery’s too cold to start. I need a jump.” If he’d been on his own, he’d have strapped on skis. It was only about ten miles as the crow flies to the highway, where the snowplows would be out.
“So we’re stuck?” Her tone was neutral, giving no indication of how she
