Tristan Gardner swore over the damn dog. He didn’t feel like standing outside in the freezing wind, but he didn’t dare to leave him in the cold, either. Not with all this snow. Og might be a damn dog, but he still didn’t want to be without him. He folded his arms across his chest and peered out between the trees. He had to be there somewhere.
The minutes ticked by, and Tristan’s anger was slowly replaced by worry. What if he was stuck? The snow was thick—really thick, where it had been drifting in the wind—and more kept coming down. He didn’t think he’d be able to leave here; the road was probably closed by now. Ploughing it would be useless, and Tom wouldn’t make it into town with the snowplough before he would have to turn around again.
Tristan hoped Tom had helped Jennifer clear the p
