Sam didn’t bother putting on music, just ran through his schedule for the week in his mind. As he entered Lakeside, he shifted his thoughts to anything he might need to pick up before returning to his remote home. But he was accustomed to stocking up for long, hard winters and couldn’t think of anything he hadn’t replenished or duplicated on a previous trip into town.
So he drove through and continued south. The roads were covered with fresh powder and starting to ice over with the drop in temperature. He was about five miles from the offshoot to the ranch when his cell rang.
Sam yanked off his glove with his teeth and reached for his phone tucked into the inside pocket of his brown distressed-leather jacket with shearling trim to protect against the bitter cold. He hit the connect button. “This is Reed.”
“Where you at?” came the deep, staccato tone of his friend Bill Hollis.
“Almost to the house.”
“Great. Can you take a call? I just got an SOS for a three-car pileup half a mile south of Lakeside. Sheriff is closing 93, coming and going, in that area.”
Sam spared a glance in his rearview mirror. “Happy to know I made it through. Is everyone okay?”
“No medical emergency vehicles requested. For the pileup or the tow call I took. Female driver. Ought to be right up your alley.”
“Ha-ha.”
“From what she described by way of scenery, she’s just shy of the ranch. Red SUV in the ditch. Can’t miss her is my guess.”
“You tell her to stay put?”
“Not my first rodeo, cowboy.”
Sam snickered.
Bill added, “She’s an out-of-towner in a rental. Gotta be a bit on the crazy side to be on these roads right now, so I figure she won’t mind you in the least.”
“Gee, thanks,” he deadpanned.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re going to do with her, since she can’t get to Lakeside now. Maybe have her backtrack to Rollins. I don’t know where she was headed to in the first place.”
“I’ll take care of it. You go clean up 93 so folks out this way can actually make it into town come morning.”
“Give me a holler when you’re done.”
“You got it.” Sam hung up and pocketed the phone again. Fifteen minutes later, his headlights caught a flash of red and two high beams pointing into a tall, solid bank of snow. “Ouch.” He crossed the oncoming lane and came to a stop about six feet from the SUV, facing it, since he had a winch attached to the front of the dually.
Sam tossed off his seat belt and climbed out of the truck. As he approached the driver’s side of the other vehicle, the window cracked.
He said, “I hear you need a little help.”
“I tried Roadside Assistance and Triple A. They couldn’t get a read on my location with their handy-dandy GPS systems. So they gave me a number to a local tow company. Guy should be on his way.”
“Yeah, he’s detained.”
“Detained?”
Sam couldn’t see inside the SUV because there were no interior lights on, but he didn’t actually need to witness the sardonic expression on the woman’s face. He could perfectly envision it, thanks to her edgy tone.
He explained, “There’s a wreck south of Lakeside. Both lanes are clos
ed.”
“Shit.” Now disconcertion filled her voice. “I was on my way there for the evening.”
“Well, your best bet is to find a motel room in Rollins. Though…” He spared a glance up at the sliver of a moon and the clouds thinly shrouding it, glowing with a pinkish tinge. Telling of that heavy snowfall Reva had mentioned earlier. “It’s not so wise to be traveling when we’re about to get dumped on.”
The fat flakes were coming down steadily as it was.