Silent Night, Star-Lit Night (Second Chance at Star Inn)(8)

“Where are we?” She’d dozed off about forty minutes before, when the snowfall looked postcard pretty. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and turned his way. “It’s a blizzard.”

“Could be.” He kept his gaze tight on the road ahead, what he could see of it. “See if they have any emergency phone updates, okay? And if you can get a signal, see if there are any towns ahead. We’re not far from Mount Hood and I don’t see any signs that plows have been through here yet, but if there’s a town close by we can hunker down, get food, and let the worst pass.”

She pulled up her phone and he tried not to worry as her finger swept the screen repeatedly. “Nothing?”

“I think the storm has GPS thwarted; the screen keeps hopping so I’m not sure what I’m seeing. I may have set a via point somewhere west of Seattle which may or may not eventually dump us in the ocean. But I honestly don’t see anything that looks like a town in the display, Jed.”

No town.

Heavy snow.

Wind.

It was snowing so hard he couldn’t see behind him to know if anyone else was following up the winding road. He couldn’t see all that much in front of him, either, and certainly hadn’t glimpsed the telltale glow of taillights or brake lights through the thick veil of white.

No tire tracks broke the ground, which might mean they were the first ones or the only ones to brave the trek through this part of Central Oregon during this winter storm.

She reached over and touched his arm. “This is my fault.”

“What?” He didn’t look her way, but he heard worry and guilt in her voice.

“Because of breakfast.”

He peered ahead, but had to smile. “It was a really good breakfast.”

“Jed. This is no time to joke around.”

“Come on.” He smiled wider but didn’t take his eyes off the road. “You know it was good. That French toast alone was enough to risk our lives for.”

“Jed.”

“Hey. Did you see that?”

She sighed. “Don’t try and change the subject. There’s nothing to see except snow, and it’s all my fault. No matter how nice you’re trying to be.”

“Hop off the guilt train and look ahead. To the left, slightly, when we get to a clearing between the trees. There!” He didn’t pause the car, because what if the tires couldn’t regain enough grip to get going again? “A light. That way. Do you see it?”

“I saw something,” she admitted. She leaned up to peer through the window, and when they rolled by another opening in the trees she put a hand on his leg. “It is a light. Jed, you’re going to think I’m crazy, but it kind of looked like a star.”

“A star.”

“Like a neon star, or something like that.”

“The Old City Bar.”

“Huh?” She looked his way, but he stayed focused. “What are you talking about?”

“Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Don’t tell me you’ve never listened to them.”

“I don’t have a clue what you mean.”

“A runaway girl wishes on the neon star hanging over a New York City bar, and an angel slips into the bar and tells the owner she needs help. So he goes out into the snow and cold and gives her all the money in the cash register so she can go home for Christmas. It’s on one of my mom’s favorite Christmas albums. We play it in the store, too. Amazing.”

“An angel walking into a bar? Doesn’t that sound like the opening to a late-night talk show joke? ‘Two angels walked into a bar,’ ” Mia deadpanned.

“Get help where you can, when you can,” he reasoned. “And a stray angel is nothing to diss, right? Hey, is that a road sign?”

She leaned forward again. “Yes. And Jed, look! A sign for a town! It says: ‘Heywood. One Mile.’ ”

He cranked the wheel left. “Let’s see what Heywood’s got to offer. If it’s anything at all, it’s better than being caught in the storm with dark coming on and nothing plowed.”

The car crawled through snow on the narrow country road. Deepening shadows left them in growing darkness between thick stands of trees, but every now and then a glimpse of white light offered hope.

“Have we gone a mile yet?” She sounded worried, and with good reason. They’d gone nearly a mile and a half on the road, and no town sprang into life before them. He was just about to admit defeat when they crested a hill.

A brief respite from the wind painted an idyllic picture below. A small town lay nestled in white-glazed wonder. And on the southeast side of the town’s center, a white star glimmered.

Wind and snow scoured the visual clean, but they’d seen it. A town lay close, and Jed aimed the car down the slope and prayed they wouldn’t skid.

They didn’t, but as they got to the bottom of the gradual decline a massive snowdrift blocked the road.

Jed stopped the car.

The lights showed him nothing but reflected snow.

The wind howled.

The drift tapered to the right of the car, but old cattails indicated that was either a ditch or a wetland and probably not a viable alternative to skirt the snow.

He couldn’t believe they’d gotten this close to be thwarted by a blocked road. He tapped a finger to the steering wheel, then turned Mia’s way. “How about a walk, pretty lady?”