Stranded with the Bridesmaid Page 3

  As if to punctuate the message, a large branch snapped free from a tree on the hillside ahead of them, starting a cascade of snow avalanching toward the highway. The cars in front of them swerved to avoid the encroaching snow pile and one small car spun completely around. Ellen gasped and clutched the dashboard. Zach, amazingly, remained calm and skillfully maneuvered around the skidding vehicle without incident.

  At least their conversation about Zach’s job woes and disillusionment had distracted her from the tedious and treacherous road conditions for a while. Now she gripped her seat belt strap and gnawed her bottom lip while she watched one car after another slip and slide on the icy interstate. Each time their rental car lost purchase, Ellen’s adrenaline spiked, and she held her breath.

  Driving well below the speed limit, they navigated past car after car that had slid off the road and gotten stuck in the drifts of snow at the side of the road. Finally, more than an hour later, they’d made it through Snoqualmie Pass. As they headed down the eastern side of the mountain, the radio announced that the state police were closing the mountainous section of highway through Snoqualmie Pass.

  “That was close.” Ellen blew out a sigh of relief. “If we hadn’t made it through—”

  A warm hand wrapped around her arm, and she lifted a curious gaze to Zach. His smile was confident and a tad smug. “I told you I’m gonna get you to Spokane in time for your sister’s wedding. Have a little faith.”

  “It’s not you I don’t trust. These roads—” She motioned out the front window and shuddered.

  His thumb stroked her wrist, stirring a heady tingle that skittered over her skin.

  “Relax. I promise to take care of you.” Giving her arm a final squeeze, he returned his hand to the steering wheel.

  “Relax? Right. Easier said than done.” While she wanted Zach to use both hands on the wheel for safety, she regretted the loss of his calming touch, the warmth of his fingers. She shook the tension from her arms and shoulders, rocking her head from side to side to loosen the tension screwing her muscles into knots.

  “WDOT will close Interstate 90 near Moses Lake by nightfall, as temperatures are forecasted to drop—”

  Zach snapped the radio off with a huff. “What possessed Sean and Trixie to choose Christmas weekend to get married?”

  “Christmas is a beautiful time of year to marry! The church is all decorated with evergreen, poinsettias and lights, and all the family is already gathering for the holiday….”

  Zach turned up a palm on the steering wheel matter-of-factly. “But they had to know they were gambling on weather conditions.”

  She grunted. “Like they were supposed to know the worst storm in twenty years would hit the weekend of their wedding.”

  “Maybe it’s an omen. Maybe fate doesn’t want them to marry.”

  Ellen crossed her arms over her chest and cast Zach a churlish scowl, ready to lambast him. Instead she saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

  When he cut a furtive glance toward her, his grin broadened. She snorted and shook her head. “You’re just yanking my chain, you butt!”

  He chuckled. “Butt? Is that the best you can do?”

  “Oh, you want me to be more creative? I have more colorful terms if you wish.”

  “Lay ’em on me.” The twinkle of mischief in his eyes took the wind from her sail. The handsome scamp even had a dimple in his right cheek as he grinned at her.

  She raised her chin. “No.”

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re beautiful when you’re mad?”

  Ellen nearly choked. “What?”

  “Yeah. Your cheeks flush, and your eyes light up, and your lips get pouty.” He lifted his eyebrows and gave a tight nod. “Whew. Definitely hot.”

  Ellen could only goggle at him. Was she supposed to take him seriously? Could she take anything he’d said seriously? She turned back toward the passenger window, her thoughts spinning, and stared out at the ice and snow piled along the side of the road. Zach was probably just trying to distracted her from her worry over the road, over missing the wedding. That had to be it. Men like Zach never gave her a second look. Especially not when Trix was around. Her sister was a knockout. Ellen had always considered herself fairly ordinary. So was Zach’s compliment just a line to calm her jitters over the icy roads?

  Glancing over her shoulder, she narrowed a curious gaze on him. “You’re a tough guy to figure out, Zach Kallen.”

  In return, he gave her an impish grin and a wink. “Thank you.”

  A few miles later, Ellen was lost deep in her own thoughts when Zach pulled off the interstate to get on a smaller state road.

  Ellen twisted around in her seat, watching I-90 disappear behind them, along with the last daylight. “Where are you going?”

  “Spokane, last time I checked.”

  “But—”

  “You heard the radio guy. DOT is closing the interstate left and right. We’re bound to get snagged in traffic or stuck at a barricade eventually. I’ve driven this highway before. It’s a good alternative and appears to have been cleared by the road crews.”

  In the deepening gray of twilight, she surveyed the two-lane highway confirming his assessment. “Well, maybe here it has. But what about twenty miles down the road? The sun’s going down, and you’re taking a gamble, counting on getting through on a state road, Zach.”

  “A calculated risk, yes. But getting through on I-90 is iffy at this point, too.”

  Ellen twisted her lips, then opening the glove box, took out the road map provided by the rental agency. She perused the grid of roads checking the route he’d choosen. “If we go this way, where do you plan to reconnect with I-90?”

  Zach tugged the map closer and, dividing his attention between the map and the road, he slid a finger along a red line indicating the highway they were on. “This section of road usually gets cleared because of travel between these towns. If we stay on until—”

  A movement at the edge of the road distracted Ellen.

  Deer. Several of them.

  And they chose that moment to bolt in front of the car.

  “Zach! Look out!”

  Chapter 4

  Z ach jerked the wheel, stood on the brake. Mistake.

  He missed the deer but felt the tires lock and slide. Nerves jumping, he steered into the skid. Still the car skated over the fresh glazing of ice. Too little, too late. Momentum carried the Malibu toward the steep drop at the side of the road.

  Ellen screamed.

  Zach’s breath caught.

  Packed ice and snow at the edge of the road served as a ramp, lofting them airborne for a instant. As they careened over the embankment, the hood of the car pitched forward. Sank.

  Instinctively, he flung his arm across Ellen’s chest, a futile attempt to brace her, protect her from the impact as the car landed. With a jarring crunch of metal, the passenger side of the car plowed into the deep drift of snow. Zach’s head snapped right then left, smacking hard against his window. His shoulder belt dug into his collarbone as inertia pitched him sideways again. The Malibu spun another ninety degrees and sank farther into the snowdrift. Finally the car came to rest at an awkward angle on the icy hillside.

  In the stunned silence, he exhaled sharply. Tasted blood. Heard the tremulous shudder of Ellen’s frightened gasp.

  For a moment, neither of them moved nor spoke. Finally he shook of the surreal sense of shock. His voice low and rough, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  Cutting a wide-eyed glance toward him, she nodded, then wrinkled her brow. “You’re bleeding.”

  He touched his mouth. “I think I bit my tongue.”

  “No.” She reached for him, her hand shaking. “Your head.” Gently, she probed his temple, parting his hair with her fingers. The delicate scent of her shampoo teased his nose as she leaned close, stretched across him to examine his forehead. His focus narrowed on the concerned pout of her lips, until she touched an especially sore spot on his scalp.

  He suck
ed in a hiss of pain and caught her hand. Blood smeared her fingertips.

  “Sorry. I—” Her gaze found his and held.

  The warmth and concern swirling in her evergreen eyes burrowed to his marrow. Zach’s pulse kicked into overdrive. Filling his lungs with a slow deep breath, he battled down the urge to have a second sample of her raspberry lips. Now was hardly the time to be distracted by a sexy mouth and bedroom eyes—post-crash adrenaline high or not.

  “You have a cut. And it’s swelling up a little.” Her voice trembled as she eased back into her seat.

  “I’ll be all right.” He tested the wound with his own fingers, and his head throbbed in protest. His head wound would wait. He had to get them back on the road…if possible.

  He surveyed the position of the car, the steep grade of the icy embankment they’d gone over, and the depth of the snow at their doors, and his gut tightened. Chances were they’d be going nowhere fast.

  Sending up a silent prayer, Zach shifted into Reverse and gave the engine a little gas. The tires spun, but the car didn’t budge. He tried again with the same results.

  Ellen chewed her bottom lip and sent him an anxious look. “Can we push it out?”

  “Worth a shot. You slide behind the wheel and gun the engine when I tell you to.” Yanking the handle, he shouldered the door.

  Nothing.

  He shoved again harder, trying to plow the impeding snow out of the way. But the weight of the slushy snow and ice pinned the door closed. The frozen blockade rose even higher on Ellen’s side of the car. Zach groaned and turned toward her.

  “We’re trapped in here, aren’t we?” she guessed, before he could deliver the bad news.

  “We can probably climb out the window, but considering the height of the drift we’re in, I doubt the two of us can get the car back on the road. We’ll need a tow truck for that.”

  She nibbled her lip but kept a cool head. Either she hadn’t played out the scenario and reached the conclusions he had, or she was much calmer under fire than he’d have expected. He cut the engine and sank back into his seat.

  Ellen gave a tight nod, then lifted her purse to her lap and pulled out her cell phone. She studied the small screen, moved the phone higher, left, right…and sighed.

  “No signal. Not even one bar.” With a scowl, she flipped the phone closed and tossed it back in her bag. “What about yours?”

  “I’ll check.” He turned and snagged his backpack, wincing when the movement sent a lightning bolt of pain through his skull. He pressed his palm against his temple.

  “You should hold something against the cut to stop the bleeding.” Ellen dug through her purse again. “Dang it. I don’t even have a tissue in here.”

  Zach pulled an undershirt from his pack along with his cell. After handing her his phone to try, he rolled the shirt and held it to his head. Leaning the seat back, he closed his eyes. He needed to think, plan, figure out their next move.

  Instead he replayed the rapid-fire seconds of the accident in his mind. Analyzing. Second-guessing. Jerking the wheel had been his first mistake given the conditions. Stomping the brake his second. He’d known better, but knee-jerk reaction had taken over when he’d seen the deer.

  He squeezed his eyes tighter as stabbing guilt joined the throb of his head. The wreck was his fault. And because he’d forgotten basic winter driving skills, they were now stranded in the middle of nowhere during the worst storm in years.

  The telltale beeps and musical tones of his cell broke the silence as Ellen tried to call for help. He heard her heavy sigh. Heard his phone snapped closed.

  “Nothing. Zilch. We can’t get a call out.” The first hints of real worry quivered in her voice. “If we can’t call for help and we can’t push the car out…” She drew a ragged breath. “What do we do? Can we walk to a house to call?”

  Zach pivoted on the seat to face her, steeling himself before breaking the bad news to her. “I think our best move is to stay put. It’s getting dark and walking the side of the road would be dangerous. We don’t know how far the closest house is and the temperature is already dropping. In the morning, we’ll climb up to the road and—”

  “In the morning!” In the fading daylight, he watched her eyes round with dismay. “You mean, spend the night here? In the car? In the cold?”

  He clenched his teeth, wishing they had another solution. “Unless you have a better idea. I don’t like it any more than you do, but I think staying with the car and waiting for help in the morning is the safest, smartest option.”

  The sparkle of tears pooled in her eyes, sucker punching him in the gut. “But—”

  He reached for her, stroking a hand along her jaw, plowing his fingers into her hair. He cradled her head and rubbed the fluttering pulse in her neck with his thumb. “Hey, we’re going to be all right. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  Covering his hand with hers, she blinked back her tears and nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. I just—”

  Nudging her chin up, he drilled his gaze on hers. “Ellen, I will get you to your sister’s wedding tomorrow. Somehow, someway. I promise.” He wasn’t sure how he would keep that pledge, but the gratitude and relief reflected in her eyes spread a honeyed warmth through his blood.

  Ellen squared her shoulders and tugged up a corner of her mouth. “And I promise not to fall apart on you. Even if this day does seems to keep going from bad to worse.” She took the undershirt from him and dabbed it against his forehead. “I’m worried about that cut. You could have a concussion.”

  He shrugged, playing down the fiery ache pulsing under his skull. “Naw. Just a goose egg. I got worse knocks playing hockey in high school.”

  She pressed her mouth in a taut worried line. “Just the same, I think you should stay awake tonight. Just in case.”

  When she leaned closer to check the bleeding from the gash on his head, he tucked a wisp of her hair behind her ear. “I read that’s a myth. I won’t slip into a coma if I doze off later.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Maybe. But do you really want to take the chance?”

  “If I don’t sleep, will you stay awake with me? Keep me company?” he murmured, his tone low and thick.

  Ellen’s breath hitched. Her gaze locked with his, then shifted to his lips. Her pupils grew, a clear signal of her body’s response to him. “Uh—of course.”

  Clearing her throat, she leaned back and glanced away. Fidgeted.

  So she was rattled by the crackle of chemistry between them, huh?

  Memories of his strategic kiss in the parking garage revived the thrum of desire in his blood and sent a flash of heat through him. He could think of several ways to pass the hours of the night and also stave off the outside chill.

  Rallying herself, Ellen rolled down her window and scooped a handful of snow.

  Zach shivered as a blast of icy air filled the car.

  “One thing I know isn’t a myth is that you need ice to reduce the swelling of that bump.” After wrapping his undershirt around the snowball, she pressed the homemade ice pack to his head.

  He took the cold compress from her. “I can do that.”

  She closed the window and huddled deeper into her coat, while he searched for a way to make their predicament easier for her.

  “If you’re hungry, I have some crackers and a candy bar in my backpack.”

  She peeked out from the knit scarf she’d pulled up over her nose. “Thanks. Not now. But could we turn the heat back on?”

  Zach hesitated. “I don’t think we have enough gas to run the engine all night. We’ll need to use the heater in spurts once it gets colder tonight.”

  “Oh.” Her brow puckered, and she tipped her head to look out at the darkening sky. She chuckled softly, without any real humor in her tone. “What a way to spend the first night of the Christmas weekend.” She glanced at him and mustered a brave smile. “At least it’ll be a wild story to tell our kids at family gatherings in years to come, huh?”

&
nbsp; He arched an eyebrow, and a deep blush darkened the pink already staining her cheeks from the cold.

  “I—I don’t mean our kids.” She waved a hand between them and shook her head. “I meant each of our kids. Separately.” She paused again. “Um, not that there’s anything wrong with having kids with you. I…I mean—I don’t think…We don’t…I’m not—”

  Amused by her backpedaling, he cocked his head and pulled his mouth into a lopsided grin.

  She huffed in disgusted and embarrassment. “I’m going to shut up now.”

  She squeezed her eyes closed and slumped down in the seat.

  “Santa is going to hear about this. That’s for sure.”

  Wrinkling her nose, she glanced over at him. “Santa?”

  He nodded and waved a hand toward the windshield. “We were run off the road by eight reindeer.”

  Ellen snorted. “Those were whitetails, not reindeer.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, they’ll be reindeer when I tell people about this.”

  Her musical laughter sang through the car, stirring a different sort of warmth deep inside him.

  “It’s the night before Christmas Eve. Do you know where your reindeer are?” she asked in a deep voice.

  His smile grew. “I’m sure at least one of hooligans had a red nose. Yep, Santa is definitely going to get a sternly worded letter from me.”

  Ellen grabbed his arm and lowered her tone to a conspiratorial whisper. “Hey, do you think we can blackmail Santa and get more loot out of this? I’ve been wanting a new car for a while now. Maybe this is the year to ask for a shiny black Mustang. Hmm?”

  Zach chuckled. “Now you’re talkin’. But why stop at a Mustang? Go for something European and sporty. You’d look good in a Porsche Boxster.”

  She tipped her head and nodded. “You think? Okay. Porsche it is.” Humor laced her tone, and the fading daylight couldn’t hide the sparkle of amusement in her eyes.