I opened my eyes, meeting a pair of the lightest soft-blue eyes I had ever seen. They were f
illed with worry as they met mine, the emotion in them so clear. I couldn't remember the last time I had known anyone to look at me with such concern. It was an unusual feeling.
Unable to break our gaze, I blinked, and a deep V appeared between the lovely eyes.
"Can you talk?"
I cleared my throat and sat straighter. "S-sorry. Yes." My voice sounded rough, as if I hadn't spoken for days rather than only hours. "C-cold, I'm so cold."
A cup appeared in front of me on the table, and gratefully I grabbed for it, only to have it slip from my frozen hands and rattle back into place on the saucer.
I cursed and looked back up into the warm gaze. The woman attached to the lovely eyes smiled in understanding and lifted the cup to my mouth, helping me drink the warm liquid. She sat down, cupping the back of my head, the heat of her touch hot against my icy skin as I gulped down the coffee greedily. She set down the cup, a satisfied expression on her face when she saw it was empty.
"Better?"
I nodded, feeling the warmth seep through my body. "Much. Thank you."
"Where did you come from?"
"My car—" I paused and swallowed. "My car broke down."
Her voice was horrified. "You walked here from the highway?"
"No. The highway was closed. I followed some cars trying to get around an accident, and I got lost. My car started making some weird noises, and then it simply died. I walked for about twenty minutes."
"That's still a long way in this cold north wind. No wonder you're freezing. You don't even have boots on!" She tsked loudly as she stood. "Take off your coat. It's holding in the cold. Stay here."
She walked away, and I grinned at her retreating figure, finding her authoritative tone amusing for some reason. She was awfully little to be so bossy. I glanced out the window with a grimace, thinking about her command.
“Stay here.”
Where did she think I was gonna go? Back out in that cold? That wasn’t happening anytime soon.
She reappeared with a steaming bowl of soup and set it in front of me. Then she draped a blanket around my shoulders.
"Eat that. I'll be back."
Her tone brooked no argument. I picked up the spoon and took a mouthful. It was delicious, thick with vegetables, the steam welcome on my face. I ate it slowly, grateful for its warmth.
As I ate, I watched her move around the diner, talking to the customers sitting at tables, obviously at home here. She was short, five foot nothing, I guessed. Her strawberry-blond hair was chin length, curly and wild around her face. She was cute. Impish. Adorable, actually. She had a Christmas ornament tucked behind one ear, the sparkle on it catching the light, and it jingled as she moved her head. She was curvy and lush, her uniform snug over her full breasts, and she moved with an easy grace as she flitted from one task to the next. I had the feeling she was the sort of person who liked to stay active.
She smiled and laughed, filled coffee cups, sliced pie, and wiped off the tables as she teased customers. Her laugh brought a smile to my face. It was high and feminine—an odd sound to my ears that were used to the quiet and solitude. More than once, her gaze met mine, our eyes locking for a brief moment, before she returned to her task. It was as if she were checking up on me. I liked the odd feeling of her concern.
Feeling warmer, I glanced around, taking in my surroundings. It was an old-fashioned kind of diner, with Formica countertops and mismatched tables and chairs scattered around. A pass-through showed one cook, busy preparing food. The place smelled of burgers and grease, and there was a lingering sweetness in the air, no doubt from the pies and cakes displayed in a case on the counter. The sign taped to the glass boasted all desserts were made in-house.
Christmas lights were strung around the windows, and beside me, a rather dilapidated tree was festooned with popcorn strings and ornaments fashioned from straws and bent utensils, giving it a whimsical air that made me smile. The entire atmosphere was one of a well-worn, long-standing local place to gather and meet. At this time of night, the diner wasn't full, but the sign outside said it was open twenty-four hours. I wondered idly what time my bossy waitress worked until.
She reappeared, smiling in satisfaction at the empty bowl in front of me. "Warmer now?"
"Yes. Thank you again." I glanced at my watch, seeing it was after ten. "I don't suppose there’s a twenty-four-hour service station around here?"
She shook her head. “No, sorry.”
"A hotel close by?"
She frowned. "There is in town. A motel anyway."
I grimaced. "How far away is that?"