Chapter 36
She sagged back against her seat with a tortured groan. She was going to have to call The Spruce and ask Natasha to send someone to get her. Not only had she made an unbelievably brainless fuck–up, but everyone in town was going to know about it. Someone was going to have to drive all the way out here because of her.
With a heavy sigh, Tessa reached into her pocket for her phone. It wasn’t in the chest pocket where she usually kept it. She slid her hand into her other pockets–also empty. She checked all her pockets again. She grabbed her bag and dug through every divider and pocket. It was pointless, but she was still in denial, so she searched her glove compartment and cupholders. She checked under her seat.
Then under the passenger seat. Then under the back seats. She clambered all over her truck, searching every nook and crevice that a phone could fit into. When she’d finished that, she checked her
pockets again.
No phone.
Had she left it in Eagle Ridge? Or was it sitting on her nightstand
back at The Spruce? It didn’t really matter. Either way, she was stuck
on the side of a rarely trafficked road with no gas and no phone. As
if to emphasize her circumstances, the wind gusted so hard that the
truck rocked on its tires.
Tessa clutched the steering wheel and stared blankly out the
windshield at the dark, empty road. The wind rocked the truck again
and she closed her eyes and screamed as hard and long as she could.
It helped a little.
With a shaky sigh, she unclenched her hands from the steering wheel and clambered once more into the back of the truck. She had
a roadside emergency kit back there, along with a few of her own
Chapter 36
additions. She pulled out the sleeping bag, the heat–reflective mylar blanket, and a pack of twenty hand warmers. On second thought, she grabbed the road flares and granola bars as well.
She waited until the truck had cooled to close to the outside air temp before she peeled off her scarf and ventured outside to tie it to her antenna.
She’d knitted it herself from a gorgeous–and expensive–merino wool. It was silly, considering the situation, but she really had to talk herself into sacrificing it. It was a bright, vivid red, and it would flutter dramatically in the gusting wind. She didn’t think anybody passing by would be likely to miss her just yet, but once the snow started falling and her truck was buried, the scarf might be the only thing that distinguished her from the snowbanks on the side of the road.
She tied it to the antenna and then went back inside her freezing truck. She activated two hand warmers and tucked one into each
boot.
She took her parka off and wrapped herself in the mylar blanket,
then put the parka back on over it. Keeping her boots on, she
wriggled into the sleeping bag. She activated two more hand
warmers and stuffed them into her mittens.
And then she just waited. How long would it be before somebody in
Longtooth noticed that she was missing? They all knew she was supposed to be out of town today. What if they assumed she’d
decided to wait out the blizzard in Eagle Ridge instead of driving
home? Could she last that long?
She clenched her hands around the warmers. She was strangely
optimistic. Except for her face, she was almost too warm. The hand
warmers claimed to last for 10 hours, but she knew from past
experience she could get four hours of reasonable heat out of them.
And she still had sixteen unopened ones. She told herself she was
going to be fine and settled in for a long wait.
Chapter 36
She periodically turned the ignition so she could check the clock,
then turned it back off. She’d left Eagle ridge around noon.
By two in the afternoon, nobody had found her yet, but the snow had begun to fall. It came down in big clumps, driven sideways by the wind. It had become truly dark by then, so she turned the
headlights on. They’d eventually drain the battery, but she was
choosing to believe that somebody would find her before then.
She debated about whether she should turn on the radio, then
decided not to use the battery any more than she needed. After a
few minutes, she started to dig for her phone so that she could read
something while she waited for rescue, before she realized what she
was doing and laughed hollowly.
There was really nothing else to do. She pulled the sleeping bag over
her face and went to sleep.
(6)
Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.