Second Chances with St. Nick

6. Sanctuary and Snowdrifts

6

SANCTUARY AND SNOWDRIFTS

I checked my watch for the hundredth time as the bus wound up the mountain. We’d been late setting off from Pine Pass. The bus company had taken time to put extra chains on the tires. I gazed out the window as the snowfall intensified. Delicate, shattered crystal patterns clung to the glass and gathered at the corners. All was dark outside, apart from the eerie white glow of the snow on the hills.

The lumpy seat dug into my back, and I closed my eyes as Bing Crosby’s White Christmas reached me from the driver’s radio. Tonight was Christmas Eve. I’d spent my afternoon down in Pine Pass again, shopping for a wedding gift for Cissy and picking up my bridesmaid’s dress from the dressmaker. After their alterations, the gown fit me like a glove. I lifted the corners of my mouth. Dare I say the adjustments they’d made suited my “extra curves?”

I gave a sigh, wishing Nick could see me in the dress. After our slow dance last night, I’d thought of little else other than his arms around me, his lips at my ear, and the glow in his eyes. He said he didn’t want to talk, and though his request left my belly churning, I couldn’t argue or blame him. I just had to be content with the opportunity to hold him close.

Recalling the feel of his body next to mine, I closed my eyes. With the movement of the bus and the engine’s throbbing, it felt like someone had tied weights to my lashes, and within minutes, I drifted into a light sleep.

After a time, muffled voices roused me. I woke up to see a group of bodies mingling in the snow outside the window. The inside of the bus had come to life, with the few passengers gathering their belongings and moving down the central aisle. With a furrowed brow, I grabbed my dress bag and followed a gray-haired lady, shuffling along the sticky floor. As I climbed down the steps, the cold bit into my jacket and the snow laid thick around my boots.

“What’s going on?” I asked the driver.

He stood at the door, hands on his hips. “With all the snow, the bus ain’t going nowhere tonight, miss. We’ll have to stay here until they clear the road.”

He gestured over his shoulder at a dimly lit inn nestled in the trees. The ornate sign bore the name, The Pines Lodge

I shook my head. “Stay here? Like overnight?”

“We have to. The drifts blocked the road both above and below us. Short of finding a flying sleigh and reindeer, I’d say we’re snowed in.”

I dropped my jaw. “But it’s Christmas!”

He raised his brows. “Is it?” His brisk chuckle bit into the cold air between us.

Fair enough—it was a ridiculous observation.

“Don’t worry. Betty from the inn will look after you. She’ll find you a cozy room. I daresay we’ll be on our way first thing tomorrow morning and you’ll be home in time to open your stocking.”

With a sigh, I followed the line of passengers trudging toward the front of the inn. Looking on the bright side, at least a night in the hotel would mean one less evening under Mom’s scrutiny.

I stepped into the lodge, and after some hot chocolate and cookies from a cheery, red-cheeked woman, all other passengers and I settled into our assigned rooms. Mine was small and tidy, with a cloud-like double bed. But when I turned on the old TV for company, my own personal blizzard popped on the screen. The storm must have wiped out reception.

What the hell was I going to do for entertainment now? There was no internet signal this high on the pass. I wouldn’t even get to watch cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies on Netflix.

Sighing, I rummaged through the cupboards, desperate to find anything to read besides the Bible on the nightstand. After flipping through a few empty drawers, I nearly sang the Hallelujah chorus when I found the well-stocked minibar cleverly tucked behind a paneled door.

I ran myself a hot bath, and after stripping off my clothes, slipped into the water. The collection of miniature liquors I’d lined up on the side of the tub quickly disappeared. After two bottles of whisky, two cheap vodkas, and one brandy, my head swam, and I closed my eyes as visions of Nick pressed close against me danced in my head. The memory of his fingers on my skin as he’d kissed my forehead.

The steady drip, drip, drip of the faucet matched my heartbeat as the water crept higher, warm against my chin. When it reached my bottom lip, I opened my eyes, grabbing the sides of the tub and sitting up.

What if I fell asleep and drowned in the bath? Quickly hauling myself out, I caught sight of my refection in the mirror. The heat of the water had turned me all puffy and my skin glowed a vivid pink.

I swallowed hard. What if I’d died and somebody discovered me like this? I didn’t want to be a sensational headline in the Pine Springs Press . I could just imagine it now: “Local Homecoming Queen Found Drowned, Drunk, and Very Pink in Hotel Bathtub .” That would keep my old school friends gossiping for days and my mom hiding behind her net curtains.

Moving into the bedroom, I slipped into the soft, white robe I’d found in the wardrobe, curling it around my body before taking out my contacts.

I hadn’t been called Bottle-top Abbie for nothing. I had appalling eyesight. To the point where I couldn’t see much beyond the end of my nose. The optometrist declined referring me for laser surgery twice. But being blind as a bat had its upsides. Everybody looked a lot younger and prettier—like I viewed them through a Vaseline lens.

I dug into my bag and found my thick glasses, putting them in easy reach on the nightstand. Finally, I climbed onto the bed. Tugging the blankets up to my chin, I closed my eyes and sank into a boozy sleep.