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Authors: C. J. Carmichael

Tags: #romance, #christmas

Snowbound in Montana (9 page)

BOOK: Snowbound in Montana
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“No idea. I just noticed they were gone.” She could see his eyes narrow with concern.

“We need to find them, before the snow erases their tracks.”

She nodded. “You go. I’ll follow.”

He touched her shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?”

She nodded again. “Hurry. Don’t worry about me.”

They back-tracked only three minutes before they found the place where the Kellys had veered off the trail. Instead of heading back to the lodge they’d turned onto the trail that traversed the valley. The very trail Marshall had warned everyone about.

“Damn it!” Marshall drove his pole into a snow bank. “Those stupid fools!”

Eliza was so cold she longed to head back to the chalet. But there was no way she could do that. “We have to go after them.”

“I’m going after them,” Marshall corrected her. “You return to the lodge.”

“I can’t let you go alone. Besides, I could be helpful. I’m trained in First Aid.”

“So am I. And I have a basic safety kit with me.” He indicated his black backpack. “There’s a chance one or both of them will be injured and need help getting out. You have to get Griff to come out here with the Skidoo.”

She hated the idea of Marshall going after them on his own. But she could see the logic in what he was saying. “Okay. I’ll go back for him. But be careful.”

He squeezed her shoulder, his eyes lingering on her for a few precious seconds. “You, too, Eliza. Just follow our trail back to the lodge. Please don’t get lost.”

And then he was gone, following the faint trail left behind by the Kellys’ skis, all sight of him soon swallowed up in the swirling snow.

Eliza skied as fast as she was able, well aware how precious every minute was. Once the snow and wind erased the trail, they might not find Marshall or the Kellys until after the storm ended. And by then, it might be too late. The cold air burned her lungs, stung her nose and sent frost creeping up her fingers and toes.

Damn this snow. When would it ever stop?

When she finally spotted the bright red door of the lodge a few minutes later, she said a prayer of thanks. Griff was outside, on his tractor, clearing off the skating pond. She waved frantically to get his attention, and he drove the tractor right up to her, clearing a path with the plow up to five feet from her skis. Then he killed the engine and climbed down slowly, encumbered by his snowsuit and heavy boots. A thick hat and balaclava covered all but his eyes with their frosted lashes.

“What’s wrong?”

She explained about the Kellys veering off on their own, and how Marshall had followed after them. Griff let out a string of swear words a lot saltier than Marshall’s.

“I’ll get the skidoo from the Quonset hut,” he said. “Won’t be but a minute.”

“I’ll come with you.” She felt like her feet, nose and hands were in danger of freezing off her body, but she bet Griff was equally as cold.

Just as Marshall had done, he shook off her offer. “No room on the skidoo for you. Not if I have to haul Mr. and Mrs. Kelly back with me. No, you head into the lodge and tell Betsy what’s going on. Ask her to send out an alarm on the satellite radio if we’re not back within the hour. That said, I don’t know what the hell anyone can do to help us in this God forsaken place.

Feeling helpless, but again unable to argue with what she’d been asked to do, Eliza watched until Griff had taken off down the trail that she’d just exited, praying the snow wouldn’t erase the trail before he found the others.

When the skidoo was out of sight, she sighed, then turned back to the lodge. While Griff had shovelled off a path to the door, snow had built up around the building so high it was almost at the windows. She stamped the snow off her boots, before opening the door to the drying room. Betsy was there, peering out one of the windows.

“Where are the others?”

Eliza shook her head wearily, then repeated her story.

Like her husband, Betsy also had some choice words for the Kellys. “Don’t they realize they’re putting other lives at risk, not just their own?”

Eliza couldn’t agree more, but she remained silent as she warmed her hands and face by the cast iron stove. The heat felt beautiful, but she noticed the stock of wood piled beside it was getting low. “When they return they’ll be cold. I’m going to bring in some more wood.” She’d seen the shed where it was stored, about a hundred yards from the main lodge.

“Thank you, that’s a good idea. Should I help?”

“Better if you spend your time preparing hot tea and soup,” Eliza suggested. “I’ll ask the others. Is everyone in the sitting room?”

“The girls and Kevin are playing pool, and the other guests are reading, or napping by the fire.”

Eliza slipped off her boots then opened the door to the main sitting room. The room was toasty thanks to the blazing fire, but only about a dozen logs remained in the nook that had been built into the side of the river-rock fireplace. “Excuse me, everyone. Jason and Sydney veered off the main skiing trail and now Griff and Marshall have gone to rescue them.”

Buck Brackett had been dozing when she first walked in, but now he snapped to attention. “You mean Marshall lost track of two of the three people in his group? This is outrageous.”

This man was really starting to annoy her. “It was hardly Marshall’s fault. They deliberately turned off the trail after having been warned of the dangers.”

“Shouldn’t he have noticed right away?”

Eliza took a deep breath. “Marshall was in the lead, showing us the way. It certainly wasn’t
his
fault.”

“You said it yourself. He’s the leader. Now, two of his skiers are lost in this damn blizzard. What a trip from hell this is turning out to be.”

“You can’t seriously blame Marshall, or Betsy or Griff, for this freak storm. We need to pull together. When they return they’re going to be very cold and we’re low on firewood. Can I get some volunteers to help me bring in some more from the shed?”

Unbelievably, only silence followed her request.

She turned her gaze to Ted Arbuckle, playing a game of cribbage with his wife.

“I would, but I have a bad back.”

Bonnie Brackett began to stand up, but Buck restrained her. “No way, honey.” To Eliza he added, “We paid good money for this trip and have gotten precious little in return. And now you expect us to start doing grunt work besides? I don’t think so.”

Alec and Tina Ritchie had been looking like they were going to be guilted into helping, but after Buck’s little speech, they sank back into their cushions.

Eliza couldn’t believe it. Not one of them was willing to help?

And then Kevin came out from the games room. “I’ll help, Eliza!” No sooner had he said this than he ran from the drying room to put on his snowsuit.

Eliza expected his parents to object, but all Tina said was, “Please make sure he’s dressed properly and don’t let him stay out too long.”

Occasionally, Eliza had a rude guest at Bramble House, but never anything to rival this group. She pivoted and hurried out before she said something nasty that she would regret later.

What a bunch of Scrooges, she thought, as she followed Kevin back to the drying room. The young boy was already suited up and pulling on his boots.

“Do you think there was an avalanche?” he asked her.

She shivered. “I hope not.”

“I bet it would be really cool.”

Wind blasted them full-on in the face, as they stepped outside. Eliza squinted through the billowing snow, searching for signs of Marshall or the skidoo. Nothing. Kevin dashed ahead of her, going straight to the sled Griff had propped up against the shed with the firewood.

Kevin’s enthusiasm more than made up for his small size, as he helped stack the wood onto the sled. Between them, they pulled the load back to the lodge, where they unloaded and went back for more. After four trips, Eliza’s nose and fingers were numb again.

“I think this is enough.” She had to shout to be heard about the keening of the wind.

Kevin must have been cold, too, because he didn’t argue. Once inside, they used tin buckets to distribute the wood to the cast iron stove in the dining room and the sitting room fireplace. Once those areas were taken care off, Eliza took two pails of wood up to the Kellys room.

Unlike a hotel, at the lodge no one locked their bedrooms. Still, Eliza felt a little squeamish about entering their room uninvited. Ignoring the unmade bed, and the clothes piled up on the floor, Eliza built up their fire and restocked the log rack. As she left the room, she heard a commotion from downstairs, then a voice she was certain belonged to Marshall.

They were back.

She rushed down the stairs, praying everyone was okay.

Chapter Seven


M
arshall had never
been so happy to see a lodge in his life, as he was today. It was three in the afternoon; he and the Kellys had been outside for only one-and-a-half hours, but he’d never felt so cold before, either.

He’d found them about twenty minutes after separating from Eliza. Fortunately, they hadn’t yet reached the avalanche zone, but they’d run into trouble when Sydney fell off the path face-first into a tree well. The depressions that formed around trees in a snow pack were dangerous places. Marshall knew of experienced skier who had suffocated in similar situations.

Her husband had been trying to release her skis when Marshall arrived, while Sydney was almost hysterical with panic. He’d pulled out the portable shovel from his pack and quickly had her out, but she was unable to bear weight on one of her ankles. It had been too cold for a full exam, but Marshall suspected she’d suffered a bad sprain.

He and Jason had been supporting her weight between them, walking slowly back toward the lodge, when, like an angel, Griff had appeared with the skidoo. They’d loaded Sydney onto the back, then he and Jason had skied behind the skidoo all the way back to the lodge.

The wind and the cold had not been conducive to conversation, which was just as well. Marshall had been too angry—was still too angry—to trust himself to speak.

He focused instead on getting everyone home as quickly and safely as possible. Not for a second did he let Jason out of his sight. Though to be honest, the man seemed genuinely worried about his wife and contrite over the trouble they’d caused.

They were greeted at the door by Betsy, who’d obviously been waiting anxiously. “Is everyone okay?”

Marshall helped Griff set Sydney down on one of the benches. She looked pale and was shivering uncontrollably.

“She’s hurt her ankle. Probably has mild hypothermia as well.”

“Can you carry her up to her room? Eliza has built up the fire in there and I have a couple hot water bottles prepared, as well as hot tea and soup.”

“Well done, Betsy,” her husband said.

“Yes, well you have Eliza to thank. She’s the one who took charge and made sure we had plenty of firewood in the lodge.”

“Kevin was a big help, too.” This was said by Eliza, who had appeared in the doorway separating the drying room from the main lodge.

Marshall smiled gratefully. Later, he would thank her for being so level-headed and helpful. If she hadn’t sent Griff out on the skidoo, he and the Kellys would still be at least a mile from the lodge. For now, though, he had to focus on Sydney. He helped Jason carry her up the stairs to their room. He left briefly, so Jason could remove her cold clothing and get her tucked under the thick, down comforter.

She was still shivering when he entered the room a minute later, accompanied by Betsy and Eliza. Betsy handed over the hot water bottles, wrapped in terry cloth so they wouldn’t burn Sydney’s skin, while Eliza set a tray containing hot soup, sandwiches and a thermos of tea on the bedside table.

“How are you feeling, Sydney?” Marshall asked. She was pale, but there was no bluish-tinge to her skin.

“C-cold,” she responded.

“Do you remember what day it is?”

Confusion was a sign of more advanced hypothermia, so he was relieved when she replied, “C-christmas Eve.”

“Good. Do you mind if I take a look at that ankle?”

“G-go ahead.”

Her foot felt icy cold, and though she winced when he touched it, she didn’t cry out with pain, which he took as another hopeful sign. Probably because of the cold, there wasn’t much swelling, yet. “We’ll take another look later, once you’ve warmed up, but right now I’d say it’s just a sprain and not a break.”

“Thank God.” Jason was sitting on the bed next to his wife, one hand on the top of her head, the other tucked under the comforter holding her hand.

“You might want to crawl into bed with your wife,” Marshall suggested. “You’ll both warm up a lot faster that way.”

Jason nodded. “I will. But first let me thank you—all of you—for everything.”

Marshall hesitated. Now wasn’t the time to ask why the hell they’d left the trail. So he just nodded, then waited for Betsy and Eliza to leave the room before he followed.

“What a pair of fools,” Betsy said, once the door was closed behind them.

“Did they say why they left the trail?” Eliza asked.

“Not yet.” He sighed, suddenly exhausted. And ravenous. He was grateful when Betsy ushered them to the kitchen, where he, Griff and Eliza enjoyed some of the hot veggie soup and ham and cheese sandwiches Betsy had prepared earlier. When the food was gone, he invited Eliza to sit with him by the cast iron stove in the dining room, and was glad when she said yes.

BOOK: Snowbound in Montana
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