Samantha Donovan held the steering wheel of her little Ford in a death grip as swirling snow thickened around her. She was on a two-lane country road, plowing through a dangerous storm when she should have given in to reality and stayed home. And she didn’t know that the weather wasn’t the worst of her problems.
Tomorrow was going to be a white Christmas—the ideal portrayed in songs and holiday movies. This year she’d been praying the snow would hold off.
All morning she’d kept checking the weather report as she was working in her tiny kitchen, cooking for the big meal. You weren’t supposed to start with dessert, but she’d made the chocolate chip cookies first because they’d always been a family favorite.
The Donovan women had pretended everything was normal when Sam, her sister Helen, and Mom had discussed the menu a few days ago. They’d laughed about the way nobody wanted to eat salad or vegetables at a holiday dinner. Sam suggested a broccoli, ham and cheese salad which had enough fattening ingredients to overwhelm the broccoli. After making it, she’d started on the twice-baked potatoes her younger brother Kevin loved. By the time she’d finished the cranberry mold, it had been snowing for a couple of hours.
When the phone rang around twelve thirty, she saw from the caller ID that it was Mom. Knowing she was going to tell Sam not to make the three-hour trip from Washington, DC, to Western Maryland, she’d pretended she’d already left. The presents and her duffel were in her Ford Focus. All she had to do was put the canvas bags with the food into the car.
Now here she was, only a half hour from her destination, her knuckles bloodless as she slowed her speed to keep from skidding on the icy road.
“Where is a snowplow when you need one?” she muttered. Guys from the county should be out doing their job. But in this rural area, the only vehicles she saw were four-wheel drive SUVs—and not many of them.
She kept heading toward the big old Victorian where she’d grown up. She knew everybody else was already there. Helen and her husband, Pete. Kevin and his new girlfriend. And of course Mom and Dad. Her heart squeezed when she thought about her parents. She’d taken them for granted for a long time. No more.
She smiled as she pictured the welcome that awaited her. A huge fir tree would be standing by the bay window, decorated with homemade ornaments and tiny white lights. It would be the first thing she’d see as she came up the drive. And when she opened the door, Christmas music would ripple out. She kept that vision of warmth and comfort in her mind as she plowed ahead, telling herself that, if the snow would just let up a little, she’d have no problem getting home. But the lacy flakes only got thicker, making it hard for her to see where the road stopped and the shoulder began, even with the windshield wipers on full speed. When her right front wheel left the pavement, she couldn’t yank her car back onto the blacktop. Her heart leaped into her throat as the vehicle skidded completely off the rural highway. Gravel crunched under her wheels as she desperately pumped the brake, but the car kept moving forward of its own accord. Even as she frantically kept trying to save herself, the Ford slid down a hill, gliding sideways into the woods. It seemed like she skidded along forever, although in reality she knew she hadn’t traveled far when the right front fender landed with a clunk against a tree trunk.
The impact rattled her teeth. And she sat for long moments, with her pulse pounding. Gingerly, she moved her arms and legs, relieved to find they were in working order. Plus she hadn’t hit her head or anything major—thanks to the seat belt holding her in place. But she fought a feeling of disorientation as she tried to catch her breath and think rationally.
When she looked back up the hill, she could barely see the road through the sheeting snow. And from the angle of the car, it was clear that only a tow truck could get her out of this. But if she called the house, Kevin would come out here and get her. He’d be mad that she’d tried to make this trip in the snow. And now she was feeling ashamed of herself. She’d wanted to be with her family so badly that she’d taken a stupid chance.
Her purse had fallen onto the floor in front of the passenger seat. She managed to lean forward and retrieve it, then fumbled for her cell phone. But when she tried to reach the house, the call didn’t go through.
Damn. Reception in this area was never great, and now it was worse than usual. Unless she could somehow get through, her little brother wasn’t coming to rescue her.
She’d held herself together so far, but when the automated message told her there was no reception, she felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes. Teeth gritted, she willed herself not to break down. Crying wasn’t going to help anything. She’d just have to hope some driver would come along.
After shutting off the engine, she looked in the back seat and checked the pile of stuff she was bringing with her. Could she get anything—maybe the cookies—up to the road? Probably that was a dumb idea.
Leaving everything in the car, she slung her purse strap over her shoulder and stepped into the storm. Though she was dressed in a warm coat and wool cap, a blast of cold air hit her like a slap. She might have retreated into the car again, but that wasn’t going to help anything. She was too far down the hill for anyone to see her through the swirling flakes.
Instead, she stiffened her legs and turned to face the road just as headlight beams cut through the flakes.
As the lights grew closer, she waved her arms wildly, shouting, “Help, help.” But in her hurry to get farther up the hill, she slipped on the incline, landing face down in the snow. Managing to stand, she brushed herself off and started upward again, her teeth chattering.
At first, she wasn’t sure the driver saw her. But to her vast relief, the vehicle did slow to a stop at the spot where she’d gone off the road. Whoever it was knew someone was in trouble. They could give her a ride home, and maybe they’d even be willing to help her get the food, presents and her duffel to Mom and Dad’s.
As she waded forward through calf-deep drifts, she slipped again, going down once more and cursing under her breath as she struggled to right herself.
“Take it easy,” a voice called out. “I’ll get you.”
“Thanks,” she managed to say as she looked up toward the road.
The voice came from a man standing on the shoulder beside an SUV. He came down toward her. His boots slipping a little.
“A bad night to be driving,” he said as he reached her side and grasped her arm to help her up.
“Yes. Thanks.”
He was wearing a heavy wool jacket with a hood, and at this angle she couldn’t see much of his features—just thin lips and dark stubble on his chin. “What are you doing out here?” he asked.
“I’m going to my parents’ house for Christmas. I didn’t know the snow would pile up so fast.”
“Christmas, right. They live close?”
“About a half hour away.”
“That’s good. It won’t be no bother to give you a lift. My name’s James Patton. What’s yours?”
“Samantha Donovan.”
“Irish, huh?”
“Yes. I’d be really grateful for a ride. You’re right. I shouldn’t be out here. But I didn’t want to miss Christmas with the folks. Everybody’s there. My sister and brother and his new girlfriend. Plus my parents.” She knew she was blathering now. He didn’t care about her holiday plans. She dragged in a breath and let it out, wondering how much she could ask of this man. But he’d stopped to help a stranded motorist. Maybe he’d go the extra mile. “Would it be too much of an imposition to take the stuff I’m bringing?”
He hesitated for a moment.
“Everything’s right in the back seat.”
When she saw his uncertain look, she added, “But we don’t have to bring it all. Maybe we can leave the presents. I can put them in the trunk so nobody can see them.”
“Sure. I can do that. Why don’t you get in my car, and I’ll go down there.”
“I have to lock up.”
“I can do that, too. Give me your keys.”
He was being super helpful now, yet there was something in the tone of his voice that set her nerves tingling.
“I’ll wait out here,” she said as she stood shivering in the cold and snow.
“I said get in the car,” he ordered, his voice sharpening.
In the space of a second, she knew she was in bad trouble. She backed away, her heart slamming against the inside of her chest. She couldn’t outrun this guy. But maybe she could make it back to her car and lock herself in. She was still grasping at that slim chance when he reached under his coat and pulled out a gun, aiming it at the center of her chest.
“Get in the car, I said. In the back.”
She flicked a glance inside. There was no back seat, only a flattened cargo area, and on the surface she saw a large metal ring—like the kind used to tie down cargo.