13. Reeves

thirteen

I grabbed a coffee from the diner and ducked onto the street. Snow fell fast but silent against the earth and was backed by the wind whistling a harsh warning of what was coming. Tucking my chin into the collar of my faded denim jacket, I used my sleeve to brush the fresh film of snow off my windshield before I hopped into the truck and cranked the engine. I sat still for a moment, letting my engine warm.

I'd come to town for groceries, and was glad to have that chore done. With the way this snow was coming down, I didn't have much time to get back home. This snow had come out of nowhere. I'd never seen a fall storm blow like this before. Just a few days ago, Erralee and I were swimming in my creek. I slammed my eyes shut, forcing the memory away. Forget about her, Reeves. You knew from the beginning she was getting married.

Needing to fidget to forget about Erralee, again, I checked the weather app on my phone. It confirmed what I had suspected. An early winter blizzard was moving in and would bluster for the next three days. Not wanting to risk getting stuck in town, I shifted into gear and headed out. The only reason I stayed on the road was because of the guiding taillights of a semi-trailer in front of me. I entered a complete whiteout as I turned onto the two-lane dirt road to my house. I slowed to barely moving. A single set of car lights passed, their blueish-white glow tinting the snow-white sky, but after that, there was nothing for five miles.

When I turned into my long private drive, I had worked up a sweat on my lower back. Driving in a blizzard was nothing I'd ever learned to be comfortable with. I was relieved to be home. The snow fell at a near-horizontal angle, and the trees were starting to bend under the weight of the snow that had accumulated since last night. The tires of my truck rattled as they bounced off the uneven piles of snow, and out of the corner of my eye—and completely unknown as to how—I spotted someone walking in the ditch.

Who is this idiot trying to catch their death? My house is far from town, and there isn't another residence around for miles. It is way too cold to walk. Dangerous.

Not caring about the ice, I slammed the brakes and immediately pitched my truck into a sideways tailspin. I cranked the wheel and stopped.

I blinked once out of disbelief.

And without a coat.

I rolled down my window. "No naps in the field today." I hollered, trying not to sound like a grump, but she had to be out of her mind. This snow didn't smell like Christmas. It was dangerous and pounding down in ice pellets.

Erralee held her focus forward, her arms wrapped around herself while she trudged through the inches of accumulated snow. At this point, my instincts took over. Here's a woman with all the resources in the world. She wouldn't be out here freezing to death, looking like she was running for her life, unless something was drastically wrong.

I jumped out of my truck, and traipsed behind her, calling, "Will you stop!" I picked up the pace and took a position in front of her, cutting her off. "This is dangerous weather. What's going on?"

Her lips were so pale, they were heathery blue, and didn't have even a quiver left. Expressionless, she stared back at me, as if past the point of going numb. Without waiting for an invitation, I wrapped my arms around her waist and picked her up. She was stiff as a board as I carried her to my truck. I cranked the heater on full blast, took my coat off, and threw it around her shoulders. I tried to hide my concern, but I'd be lying if I didn't say her behavior scared me to death. "I'm not going to ask what you're doing," I said, studying her stoney appearance. "But whatever it is, you'll wait until the storm's over."

She glowered down at her hands, tsking out, "I can't go home."

"I didn't ask you to." I shifted my truck into gear and steered toward the house. Neither one of us muttered a word as we went through the motions of going inside. I carried in my two bags of groceries in one arm while opening the door for her with the other. She hesitated in my doorway, as if waiting for an invitation. "Come on." I waved her inside. "It's better than outside."

She took a wobbly step forward, and paused, scanning the room. I can't imagine what was going on in her head. Under no other circumstances would I ever invite a member of the royal family into my humble dwelling, especially in the run-down state it's in, but neither of us apparently had better options.

My gaze—ever attuned to my surroundings—caught the black screen above my microwave where the time would ordinarily glow. There was no glow.

The power was out.

Great. I immediately spun on my heel, back toward the door. "It's a good thing I've got plenty of firewood stored in the barn," I muttered to her before jogging outside to the barn, filling my arms to my chin with logs, and hustling back into the cabin. I was breathing heavily as I tossed as many logs as possible to fit into the fireplace. With precision I struck a match on the stone hearth and held it to the fire starter. The fire seeded; I tossed the starter into the logs, and then turned my gaze back to Erralee. She had taken a seat on the couch, slouching all the way down, resting her head back, looking weary.

I ran back to the bedroom, gathered a blanket from my bed, and brought it out and handed it to her. Then I threw a few more logs on the already roaring fire. To say I was sweating was an understatement, but I didn't feel discomfort.

That'd been numb for years.

By the time I was content with the room's temperature, it was truly a sauna. I turned to check on Erralee, hoping to see some color back in her lips. Better than that, she was sleeping soundly, her cheeks tinting into a warm hue.

It was still rather late in the day for a nap, even for her. Usually, her naps were in the morning when the sun was warm. It was well after lunch time. I grinded my back molars together. Although, she looked rather peaceful now. Something horrible had happened.

Unsettled, I crossed the room, pulling the shabby curtains back and stared out the window. Frost had accumulated along the edges. The window was clearly leaking air, but I could see enough to know the wind was roaring past the house, disturbing everything. It was the thing beyond that wind that felt like the real danger. My nostrils flared. My nerves were usually on edge, but today felt eerie.

I was going find out what was going on.

If I found out that King Aswell—or heaven help me—Erralee's own father had done something to hurt her . . .

They'd better hope this storm buried me alive.

I closed the curtains as best as I could, sealing them in the middle to darken the room for Erralee's rest. I moved near the couch, listening to her breathe.

Keeping watch was something I'd been trained to do.

One thing I was good at, and that's what I did.