Which was dead, barren and empty, the way any pragmatic town accustomed to snowstorms would be. One lonely gas station had its lights on and, without a word, she pulled into it, Moore opening his door before she could grab her own handle.
Always fill your gas tank in a storm. You never knew when you’d need it.
Bzzzz
Her phone went nuts, tons of texts coming in suddenly. As she grabbed it, her soundtrack changed from music to the clank and clunk of Moore pumping gas.
Luke’s texts were stacked neatly on her screen:
Stay on 28.
Fields’ CPA office destroyed by that old oak tree Dad’s been eyeing for years.
Single car accident. Fatality. Out of towner.
Colleen gasped at that one and texted back:
Did they make it to the ER?
Her co-workers rarely lost anyone. Normally, if people died, they were dead on arrival.
No. DOA.
She winced.
Were you the first responder?
He replied back instantly.
Rusty
Rusty Johnson was the town manwhore, who didn’t even care about her Third Date Colleen status.
Or, as he’d said, “We can just have some fun twice, then.” The wink he’d added made her laugh so hard, she’d burst blood vessels under her eyes.
Sadly, there had been nights she’d considered his come-on, but knew damn well Luke would never let her hear the end of it if she slept with a member of the town’s police force.
Besides, Rusty wasn’t her type.
Can you check on Sandwich? she wrote back.
Mom already did. She’s fine. And we’re all connected at the camp.
Connected?
Dad put up loose ropes.
Ropes?
Between the buildings.
We’re not Little House on the Prairie, Luke! We don’t need to tie a rope to Pa when he goes and checks the horses.
Tell that to Dad.
Colleen was laughing through her nose as she heard the loud click that meant the tank was full. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Moore pull the nozzle out, replace it in the pump’s holder, and push a button on the electronic payment screen.
Normal. He looked so normal, living life and going about his business. How many times had Moore filled a gas tank? Bought a candy bar? Delivered a package to the post office, wiped down a kitchen counter, mowed his lawn?
Normal life appealed to her. Fed her. Made the world make sense.
Snowstorms like this were normal, and yet they weren’t.
And now she was fighting the rising anxiety that said she was good enough to be Moore’s friend, but not to be more.
Who knew that offering to do the guy a favor by picking him up at the airport would be so fraught with emotion?
The passenger door opened and a shock of cold wind and flakes hit her face, making the air in her lungs go icy as she inhaled sharply.
“There,” he said. “Someone taped a note to the pump. They left the pumps on for credit card use only. Store closed due to storm.”
Instantly nervous, she looked around at the quiet town. “What do you think?”
“I think my favorite sub shop is closed,” he said, so morose that she burst out laughing.
Her phone buzzed.
“You have a signal?”
“For now. Luke said Sandwich is fine. Mom checked on her.”
“Of course she did. You all live a few hundred feet from each other.”
“I know. But…”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Fatality. The car that hit the tree. Single driver. Out of towner.”
“Ouch.” Moore went quiet. “That’s terrible.”
“Yes.”
“I have an idea. My uncle’s cabin.”
Her legs turned to jelly.
“Hmm?”
“It’s not far from here. He let me use it two summers ago. He never changes the key code. We can head toward it and if the storm keeps up, we can stay there for the night.”
Jelly… she was just a heart and a brain floating in jelly.
“Okay.”
“I know you’re worried about Sandwich, but if the storm’s that bad...”
“Sure.”
“You have a shift at the hospital?”
“Not until four tomorrow.”
“The main roads will be clear by noon, easy.”
“Sure.” How could he not see that her entire body was quivering before him?
“It’s right off Route 28. We don’t even have to deviate from our route.”
Bzzzz
It was Luke again.
Where are you? he texted.
Wolfeboro, she replied. Moore’s uncle has a cabin near here. He thinks we should head there and maybe ride out the storm.
“What’re you doing?” Moore asked in an amused voice, drinking his coffee.
“Telling Officer Worrywart our plans.”
“We might not need the cabin. It’s about twenty more minutes north. Gets us closer to Luview, and if it’s clear there, we’ll just head home.”
“Sure.”
It seemed that Colleen was now only capable of bland one-syllable words when it came to spending the night with Moore.
If she could reach up and slap herself, she would. How many times had she spent the night with Moore before? Countless sleepovers. Camping trips. Plenty of vacations where Moore tagged along over the years. This was nothing new, she chided herself.
Except… they were alone.
And both were single, suddenly.
And Moore had definitely been flirting earlier.
Right?
“Do we have any food? You brought coffee and water, but if we get stuck?”
“Just the emergency pack in the back. Protein bars and jerky.”
“Has to be good enough. Nothing’s open here.”
A snow plow lumbered by. The scrape of metal on asphalt was followed by the sprinkling sound of sand being spread. That was their cue.
Pulling out slowly, Colleen steered the truck onto the road behind the plow, grateful for the easy path.
“Creep” played on the speakers, Moore’s baritone hitting super-deep notes with a mournful tone as they drove, the sound eerie yet calming. Driving behind the snow plow at thirty-five then forty miles an hour, they bought themselves five miles of easy driving until the plow turned off the main route at the town line, where road conditions abruptly became much harsher.
“I’m sorry,” Moore said as the song ended.
“For what?”
“For putting you in this situation.”
“Because I picked you up at the airport? It could happen to anyone.”
“I should have driven myself last week. Then I wouldn’t have had to put you out.”
“You didn’t drive last week because Hannah needed to borrow your car. Remember?”
He muttered a curse word. “That’s right. And she dumped me by text!”
“I hope she didn’t steal your car.”
He pulled out his phone. “No service. Can’t even ask her where she left my keys.”
“Probably in the ignition. One of the Morgenstern boys has been joyriding.”
“Hah.” His eyebrows knit, the tips of his lashes almost touching them as she glanced over. “Hannah.” Washing his face with his hands, he shook his head. “What a mess.”
“Not your mess anymore.”