Snowbound
the back of the van. “We just wanted to say thanks. You
must be exhausted.”
She was, Fiona realized in surprise. She felt as if
someone had just pulled the plug, and all the nervous
energy that had kept her going was draining out. Even
her legs felt a little shaky.
“The kids were great,” she said, “especially Dieter.
Thank heavens he remembered Thunder Mountain
Lodge and recognized the turnoff even though the sign
was buried in snow.”
She laughed. “Dieter never forgets anything. It can
actually be a little bit annoying sometimes. In this
case, though…”
“He was our lifesaver.”
Other parents came around to thank her as well.
Nobody, thank goodness, seemed to think she’d been
irresponsible. She was lucky that the storm had hit
Hawes Ferry as well, so the parents could imagine the
conditions that had stranded their children.
She was especially interested to meet Willow’s
dad, who was thin, balding and as unassuming in appearance as his daughter. Behind his glasses, she thought she saw some moisture in his eyes. Of all the
parents, he had the most reason to have been truly
afraid when Willow didn’t make it back from the
field trip.
As car doors slammed and voices called goodbye,
she looked around to see that Troy and Erin were
together scraping snow from the roof and windshield
of Erin’s car. His was already swept clean and idled
beside hers, exhaust hanging in the cold air. Apparently
they’d joined forces, or else he’d been gentleman
enough to insist on driving her to her car and helping
her get safely on her way home. Troy had grown on
Fiona this weekend; he might be participating in
Knowledge Champs only to pad his résumé for college,
but he’d been mature and uncomplaining through their
whole stay at the lodge, staying out of the occasional
bickering. He and Erin were simply more grown up than
the others.
With night falling, the sodium lamps around the
parking lot began to blink on as cars pulled out. Dave had
remained, and he drove Fiona to her car on the other side
of the campus, even helping by sweeping snow off it while
she scraped the windshield and the engine warmed up.
Then they said good night, the last two cars to leave
the high school.
Fiona reluctantly stopped for groceries and carried
them into her small, rented town house. She’d turned
the heat down last Friday morning, so it was cold and
dark but for the one lamp she’d left on in the living
room. Even before putting groceries away, she turned
up the thermostat, hearing the furnace come on with a
muted roar. A fire would feel good, but she had no fireplace. If the builder had bothered, it probably would have been one of those gas ones that were all show and
put out no real heat, nothing like the huge, river rock
fireplace capable of heating the entire lodge.
She put away the perishables, then went to her computer. It was silly, of course; John had probably gone down to town this afternoon to load up on groceries,
and might not make it back to check e-mail for days
or even a week. It wasn’t as if he was waiting by his
computer for her e-mail. But she’d promised to let
him know right away when they arrived safely, and
she’d do it.
Once the computer had booted and she’d gone
online, she skimmed the handful of e-mails that had
arrived while she was gone and deleted the spam, then
called up the screen for a new message. She typed in
the address he’d given her for his private email, then
typed “Dear John” before stopping.
Too formal. He’d kissed her that morning, dragged
her so tightly against him that she’d felt every contour
of his body and the full length of his erection. Even the
memory was enough to arouse her.
Why couldn’t she feel this way for someone more…
convenient? Why a man so damaged emotionally, he
might never be willing to leave his refuge in the mountains?
She started over.
John,
We made it safe and sound. Roads were mostly bare
past Danson, just icy in spots. A happy group of
parents met us. I was lucky. They all thanked me
instead of asking how I could have been so dumb as
to choose some skinny line on the map and assume