Chapter 4: The Reluctant Rescue
1405 Words
The truck's headlights carved a narrow path through the blizzard. Ethan drove with both hands on the wheel, leaning forward slightly, eyes fixed on the road like he could will it into existence.
I huddled in his coat. The heat from the vents was starting to work, painful pinpricks of sensation returning to my fingers and toes. I flexed them experimentally. Mistake. The rush of feeling made me gasp.
"You okay?" He didn't look at me.
"Fine."
His jaw tightened. "You're not fine. You're half frozen."
I didn't argue. Couldn't.
We turned off what I thought was the main road onto something narrower. Trees pressed close on both sides, their branches heavy with snow, scraping against the truck.
"How much further?" My voice sounded small. Weak.
"Ten minutes. Maybe less."
Ten minutes. I could last ten minutes.
The silence stretched. Uncomfortable. He clearly didn't want to talk and I didn't know what to say. Thank you for saving my life seemed inadequate. Sorry for being an i***t felt too honest.
"What were you doing out there?" His voice cut through the quiet. Still rough but with an edge of something else. Curiosity? Concern?
"Driving."
"In a cocktail dress. In a blizzard. With no coat."
When he put it like that, it sounded even worse.
"I didn't plan on crashing."
"You didn't plan much of anything." Not quite accusatory but close.
Heat that had nothing to do with the truck's vents flushed my cheeks. "I was trying to get to a cabin. A rental."
"Which one?"
I tried to remember the listing. "Pine something? Pine Ridge? Pine Valley?"
"Pinewood Retreat."
"That's it."
He made a sound that might have been a laugh but held no humor. "That's fifteen miles from here. On a road that's been closed since this afternoon."
My stomach dropped. "Closed?"
"Storm warning went out at noon. They shut down everything north of the pass."
I'd left the city at midnight. Hadn't checked the weather. Hadn't checked anything.
Impulsive. Reckless.
Marcus's voice in my head again. I wanted to scream.
"I didn't know," I said quietly.
Ethan glanced at me. Something in his expression shifted. Softened slightly. "Where were you coming from?"
"New York."
"Long drive."
"Yeah."
He waited. I could feel him waiting for more. An explanation. A reason why someone would drive six hours into a blizzard wearing a cocktail dress.
I didn't give him one.
The trees opened up. A cabin appeared through the snow. Small. Cozy. Warm light glowing from the windows.
My chest tightened for a different reason.
Ethan pulled up close to the front porch. Killed the engine.
"Wait here."
He was out before I could respond. Disappeared around the front of the truck.
My door opened. Cold rushed in.
"Come on." He held out his hand.
I took it. His palm was warm. Callused. Strong.
He pulled me out of the truck and I immediately sank ankle deep into snow. My bare feet screamed in protest.
"Jesus." Ethan looked down. Looked back up at me with something close to disbelief. "You don't have shoes?"
"They were heels. I took them off."
"While driving?"
"They were uncomfortable."
He stared at me. I stared back.
Then without warning, he bent and scooped me up again. Same position as before. One arm under my knees, one around my back.
"I can walk," I protested weakly.
"Not on those feet you can't."
He carried me up the porch steps. Shouldered open the front door.
Warmth hit me like a wall. I gasped. The sudden change from freezing to heated made my skin burn.
"Daddy?"
A small voice. High pitched. Sleepy.
I looked up.
A little girl stood in the hallway. Maybe six years old. Dark hair in a messy braid. Wearing pajamas covered in cartoon snowflakes.
She rubbed her eyes. Blinked at us.
At me, specifically.
"Who's that?"
Ethan set me down carefully on a bench by the door. "Her name is Ava. She had car trouble."
The little girl stepped closer. Her eyes were wide. Curious. The same storm gray as her father's.
"Why is she wearing a fancy dress?"
"I don't know, Lily." He grabbed a blanket from the couch. Wrapped it around my shoulders. "Go back to bed."
"But I want to meet her."
"Bed. Now."
Lily's lower lip jutted out. But she turned and trudged back down the hallway. Glanced back once before disappearing into a room.
Ethan watched until her door closed. Then he turned to me.
The gentleness from the truck was gone. His expression was hard. Guarded.
"You'll stay in the guest room. Tonight only. Roads should be clear enough by morning to get you to a hotel in town."
Tonight only. The message was clear. I wasn't welcome here.
"Thank you," I managed.
He nodded. Stiff. Formal. "Bathroom's down the hall. Second door. There's a robe hanging on the back. You should get out of those wet clothes."
I stood. The blanket slipped. I caught it. "I don't have anything else to wear."
His jaw tightened again. That seemed to be his default expression. "I'll find something."
He disappeared down the same hallway Lily had taken.
I stood there. Dripping on his floor. Wrapped in his blanket. In a stranger's house.
The cabin was small but warm. A fire crackled in the stone fireplace. Comfortable furniture. Bookshelves. A few toys scattered near the couch.
And on the mantle. A photo.
I moved closer without meaning to.
A woman. Beautiful. Dark hair. Bright smile. Holding a baby.
Lily. Had to be.
The woman's eyes were the same gray as her daughter's. As Ethan's.
Was.
Past tense.
Because Lily had said something earlier. Something that clicked into place now.
She'd asked about me. But she hadn't asked about her mother.
I looked at the photo again. At the way the woman smiled at the camera. Full of life. Full of joy.
"Guest room's this way."
I jumped. Turned.
Ethan stood in the hallway. His face was carefully blank but his eyes had gone dark. He'd seen me looking at the photo.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"This way." He cut me off. Walked down the hall.
I followed.
He opened a door. Gestured inside.
The room was small. Clean. A bed with a thick quilt. A dresser. A window that showed nothing but darkness and falling snow.
He set folded clothes on the bed. Sweatpants. A t-shirt. Both clearly his.
"They'll be big but they're warm."
"Thank you."
He nodded. Started to leave.
"Ethan?"
He stopped. Didn't turn around.
"I really am grateful. For all of this."
His shoulders tensed. "Don't be. I would've done it for anyone."
The words stung more than they should have.
He left. Pulled the door closed behind him.
I stood there in my ruined dress. In a stranger's guest room. Listening to his footsteps retreat down the hall.
A door closed. Then another. Soft voices. Him talking to Lily.
I couldn't make out the words but his tone was different. Softer. Warmer.
The voice of a father putting his daughter back to bed.
I looked down at the clothes he'd left me. Picked up the t-shirt. It was soft. Well worn. Smelled faintly of laundry detergent and something else. Him.
I set it down. Sat on the bed.
The mattress was comfortable. The room was warm. Safe.
Everything I'd been desperate for just hours ago.
But now that I was here, all I felt was hollow.
I caught my reflection in the window. Mascara streaked down my face. Hair a disaster. Dress torn and stained.
I looked like I'd survived something.
Felt like it too.
From somewhere in the cabin, I heard Ethan's voice again. Low. Controlled.
"I know what I'm doing. She'll be gone tomorrow."
He was on the phone. With someone. Reassuring them.
Reassuring himself.
I was an intrusion. An inconvenience. Something to be dealt with and dismissed.
Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough for him.
I pulled the blanket tighter.
Tomorrow. I'd be gone tomorrow.
Back to my car. Back to figuring out what came next. Back to the empty life waiting for me.
One night. That's all this was.
I lay back on the bed. Stared at the ceiling.
Outside, the storm raged on.
And inside, in this warm cabin with a man who'd saved my life and a little girl who'd looked at me with curious eyes, I'd never felt more alone.
- Writer
