Snowbound

He sounded rusty, as if he didnt know how to ask for what he wanted. He tried again. Talk to me. Tell me about What? Her life? What she expected the right man to be like? A movie. I havent been to one in a long time. Whats the last one you went to?

Fiona relaxed, as hed hoped she would. While he measured sugar, she told him about a thriller with a huge budget, big stars and an unlikely plot.

They hadnt even been there twenty-four hours.

How, in such a short time, had he gotten to the point where he had a thought like
I need her?
He hadnt kissed her, hadnt touched her beyond a hand on the shoulder, didnt know that she felt anything at all for him.

He didnt
need
her. That had been a ridiculous thought. But he wouldnt mind if snow kept falling for another day or two.

Dear Reader,

In 2009 Harlequin will celebrate sixty years of providing women with pure reading pleasure. To mark this special anniversary, we are pleased to offer you this book written by popular Superromance author Janice Kay Johnson.

With the focus on a complex and satisfying romance, Harlequin Superromance has been entertaining readers for almost thirty years. Each month youll find six new books that deliver realistic, heartwarming stories.

If you want to read about real people and their journey to happily-ever-after, then Harlequin Superromance is the series for you!

Happy anniversary,

The Harlequin Superromance Editors

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

F
IONA
M
AC
P
HERSON
was starting to get scared.

The rhythmic
thwap, thwap, thwap
of the tire chains helped her shut out the chatter of the eight teenagers behind her. With the snow falling so hard, she felt as if she and the kids were in a bubble, darkness all around, the headlights only reaching a few feet ahead. Snow rushed at the windshield, a white, ever-moving veil.

She shouldnt have taken this routea thin line on the map that promised to cut north of the projected path of the storm.

This ways good, Dieter Schoenecker had said, when she told her vanload of students what she intended to do. We cross-country ski at a place up near High Rock Springs.

Hadnt she been a high school teacher long enough to know better than to take a sixteen-year-olds word for anything?

Not fair.
She
was responsible, not Dieter, and she had had some doubts about whether the line on the map was too skinny. But it
was
a highway, it headed westbound, and they should have been able to make it across the Cascade Mountains before the blizzard arrived.

Only, they hadnt. Theyd left Redmond, out in the high desert country of eastern Oregon, hours ago, right after the Knowledge Champs competition had ended. They should have been close to home in Hawes Ferry south of Portland by now, or at least descending into the far tamer country in western Oregon. Instead they were in the thick of the storm. Fiona was struggling to maintain twenty miles an hour. It had been at least two hours since shed seen another vehicle.

We should have turned back when we stopped to put on chains,
she thought. And when they realized they no longer had cell phone reception.

The voices behind her had died out, Fiona realized.

You okay, Ms. Mac? one of the boys asked.

Despite the fact that her neck and shoulders ached and her eyes watered from the strain, she called back, Yep. You hanging in there?

Nobody had time to answer. A jolt shuddered through the van as it hit something and came to a stop, throwing Fiona against her seat belt.

What happened? Amy cried.

We probably went off the road, Dieter said.

Fiona made everyone but Dieter stay in the van. She and he put on parkas and got out. With the engine turned off, it was utterly silent outside, the headlights catching the ghostly, slow fall of the snow and the white world they found themselves in. Tree boughs were cloaked with white, as were rocks and shrubs and ground.

Awesome, he said.

She opened her mouth to snap at him, then stopped
herself. He was young. She should be grateful he didnt realize how frightening their situation was.

With the single beam of light from the flashlight that had been in the glove compartment, they could see that the vans right front wheel rested against a mound. Turning, she cast the thin beam in a semicircle and realized that the roador what must surely be roadcurved. Shed gone straight.

Try reversing, Dieter suggested. A couple of us can push, too.

Moments later, they were on the road again. Fiona waited until the boys clambered back in, bringing a burst of cold with them and shaking off snow. This time, Dieter got in the front seat.

You know the rules, she began.

Yeah, but maybe I can help you see.

After a moment, she nodded, then with a hand that had a fine tremor put the van in gear and started forward.

Where were the snowplows? she wondered in frustration, but knewthey would be working on the more traveled highways.

Ive endangered these childrens lives with my bad decision.
She felt as if ice were running though her veins.

What if we get stuck? Amy asked, in a high, frightened voice.

Weve done fine so far.

But

Dieter said, They dont close passes without sending, like, a state patrolman over it to be sure no one is stranded.

Fiona was momentarily reassured until she thought about how many roads there would be to patrol. And, because this snowfall was so heavy, anyone coming behind them might find the highway totally impassable.

Out of the van back there, shed realized how bitterly cold it was tonight. If they got stuck, she could run the engine and the heater off and on, but none of them were dressed for more than a dash from the parking lot into a building. She, Dieter and Hopper were the only ones with real winter parkas.

Tell me if you see any sign of habitation, she said softly to Dieter.

Leaning forward, staring at the same white kaleido-scope she was, he nodded.

Fiona blinked hard to ease the strain on her eyes.

Stay on the road, keep going and sooner or later theyd break free of the storm.

It was the staying on the road part that was the real challenge.

J
OHN
F
ALLON
hadnt intended this trip to be a race against the storm. Once he heard the weather reports, hed decided to move up the shopping expedition to town he had planned for next week. But the storm wasnt supposed to hit until the middle of the night or the following morning.

He was coming out of the country store with his arms full of groceries when he saw white flakes swirling from the sky. Given that he had an hours drive deeper into the mountains and the blizzard, the sight wasnt welcome.

Nodding at townsfolk when he had to, he took the time to pick up his mail, go to the tiny liquor store and then to top his Toyota 4Runners tanks at the Chevron station before setting out for the lodge. With the snow coming down harder, he skipped his usual stop at the library to pick out new books and check his e-mail.

Within half an hour, he was cursing under his breath. The snow was falling heavilymore like a midwinter storm than a pre-Thanksgiving one. Good thing hed stocked up. If it kept on like this, the plows might take a week to get to his place. The Thunder Mountain Lodge, of which he was now proprietor, was the last dwelling on the west side of the mountains. Just past the lodge, the highway closed for the winter unless the snowfall was light.

If this storm was any indication, snowfall was going to break records this season.

He wouldnt mind. When he bought the lodge in December last year, John had intended to keep it operating, but he hadnt done much advertising and he found himself looking forward to midweeks when he had the place to himself.

Families were the most annoying. Cross-country skiers, snowshoers, hikers; they were okay. They tended to be out all day and come back tired. Theyd eat quickly and gratefully, maybe sit in front of the blaze in the huge, river-rock fireplace that was the lodges heart, then disappear into their rooms. But familiesThey were another story. The mothers always wanted to talk and the kids yelled and ran around and knocked things over. Families wanted suggestions for activities, baby
bottles heated at odd hours, snacks for the kids after the kitchen was closed.

Hed had a particularly hellish group in August. Ironically a church group. Teenagers. Theyd taken over the lodge as well as all five of his cabins strung along the river. They sang songs, they built bonfires, they flirted and wrestled and ate like there was no tomorrow. They
swarmed.

John just wanted to be alone. Didnt seem like too much to ask, did it? Hed bought the damn place because it was about as isolated as you could get without roaming with Kodiaks in Alaska. Paying guests would give him enough income to get by, hed figured. He would cook, serve, clean. Give him something to do. Otherwise, hed keep to himself.

He just hadnt realized how busy Thunder Mountain Lodge was. One person after another told him, We love the lodge. We come every year. It has to be one of the most beautiful places on earth. He also heard how refreshed they were after their stay.

They should have been here at the same time as the church group.

He had closed up the cabins for the winter, on the advice of the old curmudgeon hed bought the lodge from, turning off the water and wrapping pipes. Hed done that just a few weeks ago. The lodge itself had six guest rooms along with his quarters in the back, plenty for the backcountry skiers and snowshoers who came in the winter. He had a couple scheduled to arrive tomorrow. Something told him they wouldnt be coming.

Wouldnt break his heart.

But he did wish hed gotten down to town and back a few hours earlier.

The last half hour was a bitch, with the snow piling up at record speed and visibility close to zero. His mind kept flashing back to the sandstorms in Iraq, as blinding and bewildering.

Damn it, dont do this. Focus.

He knew every turn, every landmark. Even so, with the advent of darkness, he almost missed his turn. The massive, wood-burned sign that read Thunder Mountain Lodge carried a swag of snow and was already buried up to the bottom of the letters.

The lodge was half a mile farther, down a winding driveway that dropped toward the river. This privately owned land was heavily forested, the old growth here one of the attractions.

John had left the shed doors open and now drove right in. He was going to have to get out the shovel if he wanted to close them.

Unload first.

Making several trips, he carried the groceries and booze into the big, empty kitchen. Mail he left on the farmhouse table that sat in the middle. Once hed put away the perishables in the restaurant-quality refrigerator, John put his parka and gloves back on and went out to shovel enough to close the shed doors. Having already worked up a sweat, he cleared a path to the front steps and the steps themselves, too, even though hed likely have to redo them come morning if he needed to go out.

Then he stood for a minute in the dark, only the porch light and dim glow coming from the windows, and listened to the eerie hush snow brought when it wrapped the world in white batting.

For that brief moment, his soul felt at peace.

I
N BACK
, at least two of the girls were crying, one quietly, one not so quietly. Fiona simply didnt have the energy to try to reassure them. In fact, shed have liked to cry herself.

Theyd gone off the road twice more. With all three boys pushing, each time theyd made it back onto pavement. This last time, the snow had been knee deep. That meant the undercarriage was pushing through snow. Clammy with panic, Fiona started forward again. Now even the sound of the chains was muffled. Thank God, the highway didnt seem to run next to a river or creek. If they slid down an incline

Dont think about it.

For the thousandth time, she told herself,
if we keep going, well eventually come out of the mountains.
Studying the map all those hours ago, shed noticed a couple of little towns dotting the line of the highway once it crossed the pass and descended toward the Willamette Valley and Portland. There would be lights. Heat. Food and safety. Although it had been scarcely noticeable at the time, they must have gone over the pass an hour or more ago, because the road was definitely descending now, although not steeply.

But it seemed, if anything, that the snow was falling harder. Or perhaps her eyes were just so tired, she was less
capable of seeing through that driving veil of white. Her neck and shoulders and arms were rigid. Somebody would probably have to pry her fingers from the steering wheel.

Her
frozen
fingers, she thought morbidly. After the van disappeared into a snowbank and its tracks filled in. Or perhaps her fingers wouldnt be frozen anymore, if nobody found the missing teacher and her pupils until spring.

Wait a minute! Dieter jerked. Did you see that?

She braked. What?

I thinkwait. Let me get out. He reached back for his parka, grabbed the flashlight from the glove compartment and sprang out, disappearing immediately in the dark.

Fiona just sat, too exhausted to move. Too exhausted to worry, even when he didnt come back for several minutes.

Whered he go?

Why are we stopped?

One of the girls, voice high and rising, Are we stuck?

Fiona was too exhausted to answer, as well.

The passenger door opened again, and Dieter said exultantly, Theres tire tracks. And a turn here. I think theres a sign. I bet its Thunder Mountain Lodge. Remember how I told you my family comes up here?

Tire tracks.

What if whoever made the tracks came
out?
Kelli asked. And theyre, like, gone, and even if we find the lodge its cold and dark?

A lodge. Fionas mind moved sluggishly over the idea.

We could build a fire, she said.

Voice pitched so only Fiona would hear him, Dieter said, If this is Thunder Mountain, the next town is something like another hour. And thats when the roads plowed. I dont remember much in between.

The others were offering opinions, but she ignored them.

Okay, she said. Im going to back up. Can you guide me?

He left the passenger door open and talked her through backing up ten yards or so. Then he shone the flashlight on the tracks in the snow. Now Fiona could see them, too. A vehicle had come from the other direction and turned into an opening between trees.

Please God,
she thought,
let the driver have known where he was going. Dont let me follow someone else as desperate as we are.

See? Dieter turned the beam on a dark bulk to the right as she turned into the road or driveway or whatever it was. Let me go look.

She watched as he plowed his way through and took a swipe at whatever it was with his bare hand. Clumps of snow cascaded down, exposing writing that the dim beam picked out.

He yelled, It is Thunder Mountain Lodge. Cool!

When he got back in, Fiona asked, Please tell me its not another five miles.

He laughed exultantly. Nope. Its likeI dont know, a quarter of a mile. Half a mile?

Okay, she said. Here goes.

Whatever vehicle had gone before her had obviously passed by a while back; it was a miracle that Dieter had
spotted the tracks, vanishing fast under fresh snowfall. She kept losing sight of them in the white blur.