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Over the River and Through the Woods, Page 2

Lacey Weatherford


  Glancing over at him, he clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead. “So, that’s the way it’s gonna be?”

  “That’s the way.” I confirmed, turning back toward the window. We drove several miles through the city before finally reaching the outskirts and making our turn, heading along the narrow two lane road that would take us the rest of the way home. The snowfall grew increasingly heavier as we progressed, covering the damp roads lightly, making the lines a little more difficult to see. Hopefully the snowplows would be working soon, if they weren’t already.

  A semi decent song came on and Micah started singing along with it, his rich voice filling the air.

  “I never understood why you didn’t join the choir. You have the nicest voice,” I said a bit begrudgingly. “It’s such a waste of talent.”

  He paused his singing, glancing at me with a chuckle. “I think there was a compliment in there somewhere. Sorry. I never had much interest in music.”

  “That’s not what you used to say. I remember you attending every one of my piano recitals and saying how much you loved them. I guess that’s just another thing you lied to me about.”

  “Would you stop?” he snapped, causing me to jump at the forcefulness of his words. “I didn’t lie to you. I love listening to you play. You’re amazing. No one plays like you do.”

  I didn’t miss the present tense of his words, but I still snorted. “Like you’ve heard me play recently.”

  “I came to your last recital.”

  “You did?” I asked, my eyes widening in disbelief.

  “I always do.” He kept staring at the road and I couldn’t tell if he was serious or messing with me, again.

  “Since when? I’ve never seen you.”

  “It’s a big auditorium, Felicity. I don’t stay for anyone else’s solos, so you don’t see me.”

  Suddenly I wondered if I was still dreaming. This couldn’t be real. Micah hated me as much as I hated him. None of what he was saying made any sense.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “I like to torture myself, I guess.”

  I had no idea what to say to that, so I glanced back out the window. He didn’t add anything and we resumed the silence between us. My emotions fluctuated between disbelief and anger. How dare he sneak into my concerts? We were through. But then again, it seemed nice. Should I be nice back? I sighed heavily. I was so confused. Sucking up my courage, I decided to ask him what I really wanted to know. We still had another hour and a half to go. Might as well put it to good use.

  “Why did you do it?”

  He sent me a confused glance. “Do what?”

  “Why did you cheat on me with Misty Berkley?”

  He sighed heavily and a frown flashed across his face. “Why’d you break up with me without talking to me about it?”

  “I wasn’t the one who did anything wrong!” I argued, my voice rising. “You should have come and apologized to me and asked my forgiveness, not the other way around.”

  “I did come to you,” he replied, flatly.

  “No, you didn’t. I would’ve remembered that. You just quit speaking to me and started dating her.”

  His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, making his knuckles turn white. “For the record, I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me, catching me totally by surprise. If you would’ve watched long enough, you would’ve seen me push her away and tell her I was in love with you.”

  “If that were true, we wouldn’t have broken up. I know you were dating her.” How stupid did he think I was?

  “I was only dating her because when I came to find you, I heard you tell Noelle you had been planning on breaking up with me anyway!”

  “What?" My voice shook. This wasn't making any sense. I’d never said anything like that—ever.

  “I came to find you and saw you walking into the bathroom with Noelle and you were crying. I started to knock on the door, but then I heard you tell Noelle how much you despised me and that you’d been planning on breaking up with me anyway. I was crushed. It was obvious you’d made up your mind; so I left and went back to class. By the time school was out, everyone had already heard we had broken up. I figured if that was what you wanted, then that was what I’d give you. There was no point of trying to fix things if you didn’t want me anymore to begin with. I asked Misty out to try and help me get over the hurt you caused. So, if anyone is to blame here, it’s you, not me.”

  I gave a wry smile, unable to grasp what he’d just confessed to me.

  “You misheard the conversation.”

  “I know what I heard,” he replied, his voice hard.

  “What you heard was part of what I said,” I retorted, recalling the conversion perfectly. “I was crying to Noelle, telling her I didn't understand why you would do something like this to me. I told her I had always been good to you—it wasn’t like I despised you and had been trying to break up with you. You misunderstood; and if you would’ve stuck around longer, you would’ve also her me tell her how much I loved you and couldn’t imagine my life without you. But no, by the end of the day, I was single and you were on a date with someone else just to spite me. I cried myself to sleep every night for weeks because of you. You wouldn’t even look at me.” I turned away, hoping he wouldn’t see the tears welling in my eyes, as I stared out at the thick, swirling snow.

  It was silent as I willed myself not to cry, but I could barely see through the window as we approached the river.

  Micah let out a long sigh. “Well, if that’s true, then it appears you and I—,”

  The car slipped violently as we drove onto the bridge, careening toward the side rail. My hands shot out to brace myself as Micah yanked the wheel, sending us spinning out of control in the other direction. The car smashed into the side rail, launching us back to the other side where we hit, again. The jolt sent our car flying past the end of the bridge and down an embankment. All I could see was white flying around until we slammed abruptly into a large pine tree, coming to a full stop. There was a popping sound and I was hurdled into the exploding airbag.

  Bouncing back against my seat, I could taste the acrid powder from the bag in my mouth, filling my lungs and I started hacking.

  “Felicity, are you okay?” Micah coughed and I looked over at him.

  “You’re bleeding!” I practically shouted, fear shooting through me at the blood running from a gash over his eyebrow.

  Slowly, he lifted his hand, seeming surprised when he pulled it away to stare at the smear of red across his fingers. “This is not good,” he muttered.

  Chapter Three

  “I think you hit your head on your visor,” I said, pointing to where the visor hung limply with an obvious dent in it. “You’re bleeding. A lot. We need to stop it.” I opened the console between our seats, looking for something I could use to absorb the blood and found a few take-out napkins. Quickly grabbing them, I handed one to him. “Here. Put some pressure on it.”

  Turning, I tried to open the door, but it was stuck fast in the snowbank.

  “Let me try the window,” Micah said, hitting the button. Thankfully, it slid down, blasting cold air in on us.

  Unbuckling my seatbelt, I reached out and grabbed a handful of snow, wrapping it in some of the napkins. “Can I see it?” I asked, rotating back toward him as he pulled the napkin away.

  I carefully cleaned around the wound, using the snow, attempting to see how bad it was. “Hmm. It’s a pretty deep cut. You may need to get a couple of stitches. I think it will probably leave a scar.” I pressed the rest of the icy wrap to his wound, in an effort to try and slow the bleeding.

  “Well, there goes my movie star good looks you were always so crazy about” he joked, obviously trying to diffuse my worry.

  “Nah.” No little cut was going to mess up his face. He was as gorgeous as ever, even with blood splattered on his nose and cheek. “Girls love scars. Don’t you know? As a car crash survivor, you’ll probably have them running to you.”

  Hi
s eyes never left me. “What if I only want one of them to come running?” he asked; and the tension between us thickened. I didn’t know what to say, but he continued on. “I think the air bag got you. You have a scrape here on your right cheek.” He gently brushed his thumb over it and I winced a bit, at the pain I hadn’t noticed there, previously.

  “Is it bad?” I asked.

  “Not too bad; but it looks like it might be staring to bruise.” Sighing, he dropped his hand and glanced outside the window. “I need to find my phone and see if we can get some help, unless you have yours handy.”

  “I do, but I don’t know how much charge is on it. I forgot to plug it in last night.” Digging it from my pocket, I turned it on. It booted up fine, showing my battery had about a quarter. I waited while it was searching for a signal, but the icon just kept spinning. I waved it around, holding it up in different places trying to get at least one bar.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “It says there’s no signal. Let me try calling 911 anyway. Maybe it will go through.” I pressed the numbers, but kept messing them up, not realizing how badly I was shaking after the whole ordeal. I finally got them right, but nothing happened.

  “It’s not working.” Despair washed through me.

  “Help me find mine,” Micah said. “It was in the cup holder before the accident, but now it’s not there.” He continued to hold the makeshift compress against his head as he glanced around by his feet.

  “I see it. It’s behind your foot, almost under the seat.”

  Moving his hand lower, he felt around until his fingers connected with it. “Got it!” he said, triumphantly. When he looked at it, his face fell. “Mine is searching for signal, as well.”

  “I figured that would be the case. Service is always patchy through here, at best.”

  I shivered, the air in the car growing much colder with the window down. “Well, now what should we do?”

  Sighing, Micah glanced around through the windows. “I don’t mean to scare you, but I think we’re screwed. We haven’t passed one car on the trip so far and I haven’t seen any snow plows. I’m starting to wonder if perhaps they’ve already closed the road from the other direction. Who knows how long it will be before someone passes through here? Also, we’re pretty far down the embankment. I don’t know if anyone could see us here once the snow fills in the tire tracks. It’s coming down really fast.”

  “Plus, your car is white,” I added quietly, knowing it would blend right in with the environment.

  “We should roll up the window so we can stay warmer and maybe get some clothes out of the back to help keep our body heat close.”

  “Actually, we aren’t that far away from some of those summer cabins in this area. Maybe a couple of miles. I’m wondering if we should take some of our things and hike toward them and take shelter there. It’s going to get even colder when it gets dark and I’m worried if we are stuck in the car, it might get too cold to survive. Do you feel okay to do that?” Micah turned to look at me and I could see fear in his eyes.

  “Do you think those cabins would have electricity or any wood for fires?” I asked.

  “I don’t know about electricity, but I’m pretty sure they’d have wood. People are always doing bonfires for barbecues or roasting marshmallows and stuff like that, even in the summer. Plus there’d be blankets and maybe some food.”

  “I brought a few granola bars for the trip in case I got hungry, so we have those. If you think that is our best option, then I say we do it.”

  “Yeah, and we can keep checking to see if we can hit service anywhere and call for help. If no one hears from us by this evening, I’m certain our families will be trying to find us.” He nodded in my direction. “My door won’t open, either; let’s climb out your window.”

  “Ok, but let me check your head again, real quick, first.” He removed the wet napkin from the deep gash and I watched it for several seconds. “It looks like the bleeding has slowed significantly. You should keep a couple of those napkins on you in case you need to dab at it. Hopefully we will find some first aid supplies in one of the cabins.” I sighed heavily. “I sure hate breaking into someone’s house, though. It seems so dishonest.”

  “If it was your place, would you be mad if someone who needed shelter broke in?”

  “Not at all,” I replied, understanding what he was suggesting.

  “I’m hoping they’ll feel the same. I plan to leave money for any damages and supplies we use. We won’t take advantage.”

  “Okay.” That made me feel better. Turning to the window, I shimmied out before reaching back inside and grabbing my coat scarf and gloves and putting them back on. “Be careful,” I advised. “The snow’s deep. I’m up to my knees in this drift.” I reached back in and retrieved my purse from the floorboard

  “I figured it would be bad. The snow from Tuesday’s big storm hasn’t melted off, yet.” Reaching into the back seat, he grabbed his coat and tossed it to me, before re-securing the knit cap back on his head and wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. Grabbing an old receipt and a pen from the glove box, he scrawled out a quick note.

  We are okay. Minor injuries. Have gone to seek shelter in the cabins a couple miles from here. No cell service. He stuck the note in the dash by the speedometer.

  “Did you bring gloves?” I asked, worried that his hands would get too cold.

  He nodded. “I have some waterproof ones in my bag in the trunk. I was planning on doing some snowmobiling while I was home.”

  I stumbled through the snow bank, moving out of the way so he could get through the window. Before long he was standing beside me. “What are we going to do about the window being down? All the snow is going to get in the car.”

  Glancing mournfully over the rest of the vehicle, he sighed. “Sadly, I don’t think a little water damage is going to be the worst of my problems. My poor car looks pretty banged up. We probably wouldn’t have even been able to get the doors open without the snow.”

  “I think we got lucky,” I said in agreement, my eyes following his over the damage and to where the front end was securely wrapped around the tree. “I’m so sorry, Micah.”

  He nodded toward the trunk and I carefully moved in that direction. “Don’t be sorry,” he replied. “It’s not your fault. Black ice is always treacherous. I should’ve slowed and paid more attention as we crossed the bridge. I always forget that they get colder and accumulate ice quicker than the roads.”

  I still felt guilty, knowing we were both distracted by the conversation we’d been having. Choosing to keep quiet on that subject for now, I decided to ponder a little longer on what had been said before I brought it up, again.

  Micah popped the trunk from his key fob and, thankfully, it opened without any problem.

  “There’s no way I’m dragging my suitcase for miles through all this,” I stated as he slid into his coat.

  “Yeah, me either.” He laughed. “I figure I can take some of my things out of the duffle and we can put a change of clothes for you in there, too. Anything else you think we might need?”

  “Maybe some basic toiletries? I’m hoping we won’t be stuck here too long. Surely, they’ll plow the road first thing in the morning at the latest.”

  “I’m not so sure. It’s Christmas tomorrow. I’d expect everything to run behind.”

  “Hmmm, that’s true. I didn’t think of that.”

  “Grab any valuables you have, too, purse, phone, did you bring your iPad? I don’t want anything to get stolen.”

  “Did you get yours out of the front?”

  “No. Thanks. Let me grab it.”

  Soon we were all situated, each of us with a spare outfit, toiletries, high ticket items, and an extra pair of dry shoes. We dumped my granola bars and wallet in, as well, leaving the rest of my purse behind. Micah had also brought some gifts for his family that included hot chocolate mix and the makings of S’mores. Packing those reminded me of the box of candy cane
s and the small sausage and cheese gift basket I had for my dad.

  “Well, we might not eat like royalty, but at least we won’t starve,” Micah said, zipping the bag and sliding his arms through the straps so he could rest it on his back, much like a very large backpack.

  “I’m capable of carrying something, too,” I said, frowning. “You’re hurt worse than I am. Let me help.”

  He gave a snort and laughed, closing the trunk and then offering me his gloved hand. “I’m fine, Felicity. Eagle Scout, remember? Football superstar, voted most likely to succeed. I got this.”

  “And humble. You forgot humble.” I made a wry face as I slipped my hand into his and he laughed harder.

  “Yeah, that too.”

  We struggled up the steep incline to the road above. Already, in just the short amount of time since the accident, our tire tracks had been covered by the heavy snow. “Thank goodness the wind isn’t blowing too badly or I think we’d be pretty close to full on blizzard status right now.” Trying to dampen the creeping terror inside me at the plight ahead, I realized we weren’t anywhere close to safe, yet.

  “I think we were wise to leave. We might have been buried alive in the car.”

  “That would’ve been bad,” I agreed.

  “What? Are you saying I’m not good enough to die with?” he joked casually as he pulled me across the road.

  “I’m saying I’d rather not die at all, if we can help it. But, as far as people to expire with, I guess there are worse options.”

  He chuckled. “Wow. That was a glowing comment. That’s like saying, ‘If it was between a serial killer and you, then you would most definitely be my first choice.’”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “That’s not what I meant. But it’s true.”

  “Uh huh, sure.” Glancing at me he gave my hand a squeeze and I realized then that he hadn’t released it. I marveled at how natural and comfortable it still felt there. In all the time I’d spent hating him for his supposed betrayal, I hadn’t let myself acknowledge how much I missed the little things we shared, like this.