Snowed In With The Grinch

Chapter 2: Stranded

Holly McAllister wasn’t the type to cry. At least, not in front of strangers.

Still, as she sat in the passenger seat of the rumbling tow truck, a stubborn tear threatened to spill down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, praying the gruff man behind the wheel wouldn’t notice.

Tom, or at least that’s what he’d introduced himself as, didn’t seem like the sentimental type. His baseball cap was pulled low over his forehead, his hands gripping the wheel with the casual confidence of someone used to braving mountain roads in blizzards. His coat looked like it had seen better decades, and his beard was the kind that made Holly wonder if he could catch small birds in it.

For the first several minutes, they drove in silence, the sound of the truck’s engine the only thing keeping the quiet from feeling oppressive. Outside, the blizzard was in full force. Snowflakes battered the windshield like angry little fists, and the headlights barely managed to cut through the swirling white abyss. Holly gripped her coat tightly around her, even though the truck was warm.

“So, what brings you up here?” Tom finally broke the silence, his tone as casual as if they were chatting over coffee instead of stranded in a snowstorm.

Holly shifted uncomfortably, staring straight ahead. “Networking event at the Summit Lodge.”

Tom let out a low chuckle that immediately grated on her nerves.

“What?” she snapped, glancing at him.

“Nothing,” he said, but the corners of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Just seems like a lot of trouble to go through for a bunch of handshakes.”

Holly bristled. “I just lost my job. I needed this event.”

That shut him up. For a moment, at least.

“Sorry to hear that,” he muttered, his voice gruff.

Holly exhaled, wishing she could just sink into the truck’s seat and disappear. She hated talking about her problems. Admitting she’d been fired felt like admitting she was a failure.

Tom cleared his throat. “Summit Lodge, huh? That’s another twenty minutes up the mountain—on a good day. In this storm? You’re not getting there tonight.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “What do you mean, not getting there? I have to get there. I already paid for my room!”

Tom glanced at her like she’d just told him Santa Claus was real. “Lady, half the roads in this town are already shut down. You’re lucky I even found you out there. Summit Lodge is at the top of the mountain. Ain’t nobody getting there until the storm clears.”

Holly’s heart sank. “So, what am I supposed to do?”

Tom shrugged. “There’s the town lodge. Cozy place. Warm. They’ll probably take you in for the night.”

Holly slumped back in her seat, feeling utterly defeated. She’d come all this way, risked driving through a snowstorm, and now she wasn’t even going to make it to the event. All her plans—the carefully rehearsed elevator pitches, the mental list of potential connections she’d hoped to make—were now as worthless as the stack of rejection emails sitting in her inbox.

---

When they pulled into the small mountain town, Holly couldn’t help but notice how *annoyingly* festive it looked. Twinkling lights were strung across storefronts, and wreaths decorated every lamp post. A towering Christmas tree stood proudly in the town square, its branches laden with ornaments and ribbons.

To someone else, it might have looked magical. To Holly, it was a slap in the face.

Tom slowed the truck to a stop in front of a large stone building with the words *Snowfall Valley Lodge* carved into a wooden sign above the entrance. Warm light spilled from the windows, and Holly could see people milling around inside, laughing and chatting like they didn’t have a care in the world.

“This is your stop,” Tom announced.

Holly glanced at the lodge, then back at Tom. “Thanks for the ride.”

He nodded, tipping his cap. “Good luck.”

The wind hit her the moment she stepped out of the truck, nearly knocking her off her feet. She hauled her suitcase out of the bed of the truck, her fingers already numb despite her gloves. Tom gave her a quick wave before driving off, leaving her standing in the snow, wondering how her life had come to this.

With a resigned sigh, Holly trudged up the steps to the lodge and pushed open the door.

---

The warmth hit her immediately, and for a moment, she just stood there, letting the heat sink into her bones. The lodge was cozy, its walls lined with wooden beams and garlands. A fire crackled in the stone fireplace, and the air smelled faintly of pine and cinnamon.

She approached the front desk, where a cheerful woman in her mid-forties was humming along to “Jingle Bell Rock.” The name tag pinned to her red sweater read *Marjorie.*

“Welcome to Snowfall Valley Lodge!” Marjorie chirped. “How can I help you?”

Holly forced a tight smile. “I need a room for the night.”

Marjorie’s face fell. “Oh, I’m so sorry, but we’re fully booked. The storm’s got everyone holed up here.”

Holly’s stomach twisted. “Fully booked? Are you serious?”

“Afraid so, hon. But there’s a little seating area by the fireplace. You’re welcome to warm up while you figure things out.”

Holly resisted the urge to scream. Instead, she muttered a quick “thanks” and dragged her suitcase over to the seating area. She sank into a plush armchair, staring at the flames as she tried to formulate a plan.

She could call her dad, but that would mean explaining her current predicament—and she wasn’t ready for the inevitable lecture about “responsibility” and “planning ahead.” She could try finding a motel, but if the lodge was fully booked, chances were everything else in town was too.

As she mulled over her options, a voice broke through her thoughts.

“Rough night?”

She looked up to see a man standing by the fireplace, holding a steaming mug of what looked like hot chocolate. He had dark hair that was just a little too messy to be intentional and a smile that was just a little too smug to be friendly.

“What gave it away?” Holly asked dryly.

“The scowl,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re Holly, right?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “How do you know my name?”

“Marjorie told me.” He nodded toward the front desk. “Small town. Word gets around.”

“Great,” Holly muttered.

The man stepped closer, his grin widening. “I’m Caleb .”

“Don’t care.”

He chuckled, clearly not deterred by her frosty attitude. “Let me guess. You were heading to the Summit Lodge for the networking event.”

Holly stared at him. “How did you—”

“Everyone coming through here is. And everyone’s freaking out because it’s canceled.”

Holly’s chest tightened. “Canceled?”

He nodded, his expression turning more serious. “Storm shut it down. Didn’t you check the weather?”

“No,” Holly snapped. “I was too busy trying to save my career to worry about the weather.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Instead, he set his mug down on the mantle and leaned against the fireplace, studying her.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “looks like you’re stuck here. Welcome to Snowfall Valley.”

Holly wanted to scream. Instead, she sank deeper into the armchair, burying her face in her hands. How could everything have gone so wrong?

“Cheer up,” he said, his tone annoyingly light. “At least you’ll get to experience a real small-town Christmas. It’s magical.”

Holly glared at him. “I hate Christmas.”

He let out a low whistle. “Wow. You really are a Grinch, aren’t you?”

Before she could respond, Marjorie called his name from the front desk. He gave Holly one last grin before heading over, leaving her to stew in her misery.

She stared into the fire, the heat doing little to thaw the icy knot in her chest. She’d come here hoping to turn her life around, but now it seemed like the universe was determined to remind her just how small and powerless she really was.