Snowbound

rumbled, Fiona gasped, he groaned and angled his

head to deepen the kiss.

“Ms. Mac! Ms. Mac!” The cries, exultant, urgent,

came closer.

Somebody was in the kitchen. Brain like sludge, he

slowly realized that several somebodies were there.

Calling her. Which meant…

Oh, crap. He was still processing what those voices

meant when she began to struggle.

“The kids! They’re coming!”

“Yeah.” He let go of her and stepped back, shaking

his head in an attempt to clear it. “God.”

Her hands had gone frantically to her hair. “Do I

look…?”

“Yeah,” he said again. “You do.”

Her finger-combing was making it worse.

He reached up and took her hand. “Stop. They’re

not stupid.”

“Ms. Mac? Where are you?”

“In here,” she called. “Working on laundry.”

The door swung open, hitting John in the back.

He swore as his hip gave a scream of protest.

Tabitha’s anxious face peered around the door at

him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” he said between gritted teeth. “My fault.”

Just as well if she thought he was keeping his back

to her because muscle spasms kept him immobile.

Mussed hair on their pretty teacher was one thing;

seeing his erection was another.

“We hear the snowplow,” she said. “I mean, it has to

be the snowplow, right?”

“Unless a helicopter is passing over, it’s got to be the

snowplow,” John agreed.

A couple of the other kids crowded in behind her.

Over her head, Hopper asked, “Should we send someone

out to meet them? So they know we’re here? Because

if they don’t plow your road as far as the van…”

“They always do,” John said. Nothing like half a

dozen teenagers squeezing into the small room with

him and Fiona to kill the mood.

“But they might be in a hurry or something.”

“They probably know we’re here,” Fiona pointed

out. She had grabbed an already folded towel and

started refolding it the minute the door opened. “You

know Mr. Schneider probably let the highway department know we were stranded up here.”

“You mean, you think they’re actually looking for

us?” Kelli marveled at the idea.

“Maybe we made the news,” speculated someone

just out of sight. Amy. Had to be Amy. “High School

Students Stranded.” Enraptured, she capitalized every

word. “They probably interviewed our parents and

showed pictures of us and everything.”

“We’re famous.” Hopper poked his head between

Kelli and Tabitha. “Wow. We’ll be girl magnets.”

“Guy magnets,” Kelli amended.

A babble of voices ensued. Fiona’s eyes met

John’s, every-so-briefly. Amusement, disbelief. Despite her mussed hair, pink cheeks and swollen lips—

and, oh yeah, the closed laundry room door—her

students hadn’t given a thought to what she and John

had been doing.

They were adults. Invisible. Not worth speculating

about.

“Okay, okay,” she said, raising her voice in that way

only teachers could do, effortlessly slicing through the

babble and bringing silence. “John? Should we all

bundle up and go out?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. I’ll go up and meet

them. Dieter, Troy, Hopper. You three, too, in case we

need the manpower to get the van back on the road.”

“Yes!” They scattered, taking the protesting girls

with them. Why couldn’t they go, too? They were

strong! They could…

“You okay?” John asked Fiona.

She nodded and set the now twice—or was it

thrice?—folded towel onto the stack. “You?”

He nodded ruefully. “They were good as a cold

shower.”

“Icy.” She sighed. “We’re still leaving you with

work. Including dirty dishes.”

“I’ll have nothing else to do after you’re gone,” he

pointed out, resisting the temptation to touch her again.

“Yeah, you will. I’ll bet you can hardly wait to

reclaim your blessed solitude.”