The Dead of Winter (Seasons of Jefferson: Book 2) (15 page)

City slickers? Ouch. What gives? This is HER fault. “
Hold on there, Tangles. Go easy on my friend. You’re the one who wasn’t watching where you were going. You cut
us
off!”

“Lame excuse for crappy driving, dude. You know what? You’re wasting my time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m tired of burning daylight.” Just like that, the tangly ball of sass turns her back to us and grabs her helmet off the trailer. Pulling it over her head, I hear her call, “Jessie May, you chicken. Get out of that truck and help me! Let’s go!”

The door opens slowly. I watch intently as a second helmeted girl, slides down and walks toward the back of the trailer. Timidly, she raises her visor and glances in our direction. Pausing just long enough to shrug her shoulders and raise her eyebrows apologetically. Not waiting for our response, she turns back to her friend. Together, they lower the ramp. “You go first. I’ve got Bumblebee,” I hear Tangles command.

Jessie May climbs on a green snowmobile and takes off first. I watch her speed off down the path, until she vanishes in the distance.

Girls on snowmobiles, that’s badass.

I’m caught off guard when a yellow and black streak whips around us, throwing a sheet of snow in our faces. Before I have time to process the icy sting, she’s gone.

“Must be Bumblebee,” I chuckle, watching Brody spit out a mouth full of snow.

He scratches the side of his nose, looking down at the ground. “Dude, what just happened?”

“Not sure, Bro,” I chuckle, amused by the audacity of that chick. I feel my forehead pinch, as I pull my eyebrows together, shaking the snow from my head. “Whatever it was, I kind of liked it.”

I SNAP MY HEAD AROUND
, startled by the crunching snow behind me.
What’s that?
My heart rate spikes, and I freeze long enough to scope out the parking lot.
I’m relieved when three familiar faces peek around a nearby trailer.
Phew, it’s just Mason and the girls returning from their potty break. Damn, I was kinda hoping it was Tangles, back for round two.
Jenna cocks her head, as her eyes roam my body. “What’s up with you?”

That damn mood detector of hers.
I widen my smile, “What do you mean?”

“You’re smiling.”

For the first time in weeks, I’m consciously aware that the corners of my mouth are pulled into a grin. “Guess I am.”

“It’s a good look on you. What brought it on?”

I shake my head, chuckling, “I don’t even know where to start.” I look over at Brody, “Your story to tell, Brody. Go ahead.”

He scratches his head, “Let’s just say, while you were away, we had a
run-in
with a couple of spicy country girls, and this dumbass thought it was funny.” He points over to the big, white F-250. “See that truck right there? It cut me off when I was trying to park, and I plowed right into it.”

Jenna looks back at me open-mouthed and wide-eyed, “And you’re laughing? How’s that funny?”

“You’ll see when you read the stickers on her window.”

“I’m a country girl. We don’t keep calm.”

“Not just the camo one. Read the one with the fairy godmother wearing a cowboy hat.”

Kaitlyn reads another sticker,

“I don’t need no magic wand to get you off my tail. Who needs fairy dust when you’ve got gunpowder?”

“Don’t those stickers just say it all?” I look back at Brody, and snort through my laughter. “The girl who was driving was something else. Spunky, little runt. She didn’t back down for a second. Bro looked so scared, I thought he was going to pee himself.”

“Sounds like she’s got an attitude to me. Beware of them country girls,” Mason warns.

“Well, anyone who can hold her own with two crazy oafs like you is my kind of girl,” Jenna winks.

“Where’d they go? Did you already exchange insurance info and stuff?” Mason questions, walking around the front of the truck, as he surveys the scene.

“We already checked it out. No damage to either rig. They took off a minute ago.”

“Well, in that case, we should hurry up and find them,” Jenna giggles.

I’m caught off guard by her enthusiasm. “What? Why?”

“I’d like to thank the girl who put that smile back on your face … and ask her where I can get those stickers,” she jokes, nudging me in the ribs.

Brody still looks a little off kilter. “Well, I think we’d best grab the machines and head the other direction. That curly haired one was fired up!” He releases a deep breath and pulls his hand through his hair, “And I’m pretty sure she’s not lying about those guns. Look through the back window. Her rack is loaded. Scary. Nope, not messin’ with that one.” He climbs up the trailer and starts the first sled, backing it down.

Kaitlyn climbs on the back of Brody’s snowmobile, wrapping her arms around him. “Don’t worry, it’s my turn to protect you for once. Curly-haired, country girls don’t scare me at all.”

Me neither
. I think to myself, traveling up the ramp, to help unload the rest of the snowmobiles. Distracted by the replay of the feisty encounter looping through my head, it seems like no time before we’re all on the snowcats ready to roll.

“Which way, boss?” Mason asks, buttoning his helmet strap.

I scan the wide trail noting the two paths that diverge before me. One leads downhill to the west, the other uphill to the north. Despite my best effort to resist, my eyes are drawn in the direction I last saw the yellow and black streak.
Bad thought, dude. Bad thought. That way’s trouble.
My conscience tells me
no
, but the little devil on my shoulder says
YES
. Against my better judgement, I point my snowmobile north. “I feel like going this way today.” I raise my good arm and motion my friends forward.

I follow the tracks left by Bumblebee and her sidekick, Jessie May. They swerve in and out drawing figure eights in the fresh powder. It’s mesmerizing to watch the intricate pattern weaving beneath me as I run through the middle of the circles, cutting them in half one by one. I thoroughly enjoy the mindlessness of following someone else's tracks. I’m tired of thinking. Tired of overthinking. Tired of guilt. Tired of pain. I don’t have to lead this way. I don’t have to think at all. All I need to do is follow the mind-freeing map that someone else created. I’m almost giddy inside, until I begin to lose sight of the design. The figure eights have become slightly harder to detect. The falling snow has begun to fill in the tracks.
I can’t lose their trail.
I’ve got to see how that chick rides.

Instinctively, I press the throttle. The machine snaps forward. Unprepared for the intensity of the sudden thrust, I’m whipped to the back corner of the seat, barely holding on with my good arm.
Crap.
It almost got away from me.
Aside from nearly flying off, the sudden, sharp pain in my arm, reminds me that I haven’t fully recovered from my serious injury. I let up on the throttle long enough to readjust my position and collect my thoughts.
I’m not about to give up the peace I found in those tracks. This beast is not going to take that from me.
Determined to ride like the wind, I center myself on the seat, plant my boots on the foot holds, squeeze my thighs around my opponent, and hit the throttle one more time.

As I travel swiftly down the path, the exhilarating speed has me laughing out loud. My periphery is a blur of green, brown, and white. The icy wind whips through my jacket, sending a slight shiver down to my core. I cock my head back toward the sky and squeal, “You guys cold?” I can’t hear anything through the buzz of my Arctic Cat and my padded helmet, so I shrug my shoulders and keep going.
They can handle it. We’ve definitely been colder than this before.
My senses are on fire from the gorgeous sights, mind-numbing sounds, and chilly late afternoon air. It gives me a gentle reminder of what it’s like to feel something other than fear, sadness, and despair.

I decide to slow down a bit to see if I can’t take in another dose of clean-air therapy. A pristine wonderland stretches out before me. I’m nearly surrounded by towering mountains. Off in the distance, the meadows are blanketed with fluffy powder. Staring up at the tree-lined ridges, I picture the hand of God holding a paintbrush. It’s calm. Peaceful. Serene.
No man could ever create something so perfect, so beautiful.

I continue to sputter along, looking up at Mt. Shasta. Distracted by the exceptional skyline, I don’t see the large rut below me. As the sled dips unexpectedly, I find myself thrown against the handlebars. I come to a sudden stop, carefully scooting back in the seat. My stomach flips a little from the shock of the impact.
I’d better be careful. One armed driving is trickier than I thought.
I decide to wait for a minute to regain my composure
.

Sitting in the stillness, my eyes focus on the falling snow. I’ve always loved sitting outside in the middle of a gentle snowfall. There’s a certain feeling that comes with it. An unparalleled quiet. An insulating calm. I’ve relished this comforting feeling since I was a child, and I eagerly look forward to its return each winter.

Gazing into a gentle flurry, I follow a snowflake until it lands softly on my rounded visor. Then another. And another. A familiar vision comes over me. I’m not sure what it is, but I’ve had it before. My mind searches to make the connection, until it finally comes to me. The Thomas Kincade Painting.
Our Winter Wonderland painting.
A picture of Peyton flashes through my mind. We’re standing together in the falling snow. I have my arms wrapped around her. We’re carving our initials into the bridge.
Peyton. What am I doing?
I snap out of my trance and pull my eyes back to the ground. It’s a brutal reminder of my search for the figure eights. My search for Bumblebee. Tangles.
I know I’m here to try to take my mind off Peyton, but what kind of a dog am I? Sniffing out someone else's tracks?

I’m angry at myself. Angry for even thinking about being disloyal to Peyton. I close my eyes praying for forgiveness, but I can’t focus long enough to speak an entire prayer. All I can do is picture her screaming at me over and over.

“
You killed her! You don’t want the new Peyton! And guess what else, Caden? I DON’T want you either! You’re dead to me! You hear me? Dead! You killed her! You don’t want the new Peyton! And guess what else, Caden? I DON’T want you either. You’re dead to me! You hear me? Dead!”

Sick to my stomach
,
I turn the key and the engine roars back to life.
I’ve got to get out of here.
Furious about potentially destroying my relationship, I decide to take a different route. I don’t want to think of what could’ve happened if I ran into that girl.
What the hell was I thinking trying to find her anyway? I’ll take my own path. One that she’s not on. I’m sorry, Peyton. Really, I don’t know what I was thinking.

Off to the left, a narrow trail catches my eye.
Perfect.
I hold on tight and press down on the throttle. I need to forget about the nightmare replaying in my mind.
She said she didn’t want me. She said I killed her.
I can’t handle the thought anymore. I search my mind for songs, television shows, anything to distract me from her cutting words echoing around inside my head. Finally, my senses clear, and I allow myself to refocus on my surroundings.

That’s when I perceive it, another snowmobile nearby. I slow down to see if I can hear its motor.
Yes. That’s definitely not my engine.
It’s got a different buzz to it.
Alright. They found me
. I was worried about leaving the gang, but I just couldn’t help myself. My trail sniffing, inner speed demon got the best of me. I can feel the second snowmobile pushing on my tail, so I turn my head to see who’s caught up to me.

I can hear the high pitched buzz of the snowmobile, but I can’t see it. It must be just behind the bend. I slow down to give my visitor a chance to catch up. The trail is so narrow, I need to face forward so I don’t run off into the deep powder. I can definitely hear the buzz getting louder. I continue on slowly, making sure to close the distance between my friends and me.
When are they going to catch up? Geez, a guy can only go so slow before he starts going backward.

The buzz of the second snowmobile sounds close now. In fact, it’s so close I can feel it pushing on the back of me. The path has made its way to a narrow steep ridge, so I dare not look back to see which of my crazy friends is riding my tail. I hear the engine rev behind me.
Oh, that must be Jenna. She’s the only one who would have the guts to rev her engine at me, and think she can get away with it. I think I’ll drop my speed just a little more to mess with her.

Gently, I back my thumb off the throttle, slowing to a near stop. Another rev. I can feel my grin stretching from ear to ear as I look around, pretending to enjoy the scenery. As I’m looking up to the cascading tree-line, I hear a double rev behind me, followed by what sounds to be a small squeaky voice.
Good thing I can’t hear what she’s saying.
I chuckle to myself, knowing that I’m getting her goat.

I’m having fun pestering the little gnat behind me, until the path begins to widen.
Game over. Shoot.
I can hear Jenna’s snowmobile begin to pick up speed. I turn my head with a cocky grin, only to be pounded in the face by a sheet of snow. Wet slush drips down my goggles. Through the steam, I can faintly make out a yellow and black streak, passing me on my right.
What?
Bumblebee?
My stomach flips when I realize it wasn’t Jenna after all. I need to slow down to wipe my goggles. Working with an injured arm is tough. I can’t get the goggles to defog, so I flip them up, and scan for the little shit that just killed my vision.