Whispered Prayers of a Girl Page 3

  I wasn’t trying to be rude or an ass when she asked for my name, but I have no desire to be her friend. I just wanted her gone so I could finish with my shit and leave. I hate going to town, and I only do it when I have to. The looks and whispers I get piss me off, and it takes iron will to keep my mouth shut.

  She tried to hide it, but I saw the look on her face and heard her breath hitch when she saw my scars. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t like the thought of her seeing my fucked-up face and being disgusted. I don’t know why I gave a damn, but I did.

  I push the thoughts of the brunette away and roll to my side. My eyelids drift closed and it’s not long before the exhaustion from today pulls me into a deep sleep.

  The next morning, I wake to fat snowflakes falling. It’s not bad yet, but in the distance I can see the dark snow clouds heading this way. The forecast said to expect at least a foot later today and another couple of feet over the next few days.

  Most people dread the heavy snowfall, but not me. I love Colorado weather, especially the winters when the snow will come down for days. It may be cold as shit, but it’s still beautiful to be around. I like the thought of having a nice warm house to go to after work, walking in and smelling the logs burning in the fire.

  After I get dressed, Gigi’s waiting at the door to be let out. While I wait on her to finish her business, I make a pot of coffee and stir the fireplace back to life and throw on a couple more logs. I stomp my boots on and walk out back to grab an armful of logs from the back porch. Everything is covered in white, and it looks gorgeous. I’ve lived in Colorado my entire life, and I never get tired of looking at a freshly dumped snowfall.

  Gigi comes bounding around the corner, her coat covered in snow. She stops just long enough to root her nose in the snow until it disappears, then flicks her head up, throwing snow in the air. I whistle and she makes a mad dash for the porch, stopping once she’s on the steps to shake.

  “Get your goofy ass in the house.” I chuckle and snap my fingers.

  I follow her inside and unload the logs beside the fireplace. I walk back to the kitchen, the smell of brewed coffee leading me. I’m just pouring a cup when my phone rings. I snatch it off the counter, then groan when I see my mom’s name.

  My mother is a good, loving woman, but there are times I just can’t handle her. She worries, and I love that about her; I just wish she’d know when to leave shit alone. I know she means well, she’s a mother after all, but her asking how I’m doing every time we talk, knowing she’s referring to my emotional state, isn’t something I want or need. All it does is remind me of what I try so fucking hard to forget. It’s bad enough I see them every time I look in the mirror, I don’t need them thrown in my face.

  For almost a year after the accident, she hovered over me like a mother hen. It’s just me and my younger sister, so when one of her kids is hurting, I know she hurts as well. Dad had to finally drag her out of my house when he saw she wasn’t helping at all, but hindering my mental healing. Before the accident, they were supposed to move to Tennessee where my sister Christa lives, but the accident put the move on hold. Luckily, after realizing what my mother was doing, my father eventually convinced her to go forward with the move. I miss my family, but I’m glad they aren’t so close anymore.

  I hit Ignore and set the phone back down on the counter. I know I’m being a dick, and I do feel guilty, but I just can’t talk to her right now. I’ll call her back later or something.

  I down the rest of my coffee and head back outside to check on the horses and to haul in another load of wood. My cabin doesn’t have central heat and air, so I depend on the fireplace for all the heat. I like it that way.

  Once I’m done, I refill my coffee and head outside to sit on the porch. It’s fucking freezing outside, but it’s beautiful and peaceful. I sit on the wicker chair with my feet up on the railing and look out over the field of white and the snow-covered mountains. I inherited this place from my grandparents ten years ago. My grandfather used to breed horses for a living, before he got too old. I’d come over every day after school when I was younger and help him around the place. My grandma passed away twelve years ago, and my grandfather was never the same. He always told me the place was mine once he was gone. He knew of my desire to work with horses.

  The snow is coming down in huge flakes now and it’s halfway up the tires of my truck. Something catches my attention, and I try to focus on it. My feet clunk to the porch, and I get up from my seat. Walking to the railing, I squint. Something’s off in the distance, but I can’t tell what it is with the heavy snowfall. I set my mug down on the railing and walk off the porch. I’ve gotten about fifty yards when I realize it’s a vehicle.

  “Sonofabitch,” I mutter. This is the only road out this way for miles. The vehicle looks to be at an angle, indicating they’re more than likely stuck in a ditch.

  I’m half tempted to leave them out there—it’s fucking stupid to be out driving in this weather—but with how fast the snow is coming down and the dropping temperatures, they’ll likely freeze to death.

  I stomp back to the house, cursing under my breath the entire way. Helping some idiot is the last thing I want to be doing right now. I like my solitude out here, and except for the people I have to deal with regarding the horses I train, I try to avoid them as much as possible.

  I swipe my keys from the hook just inside the door and grab a bigger coat from the closet, along with some thick gloves.

  “Stay here. I’ll be back,” I tell Gigi, who’s sitting at the door watching me.

  I start the truck to let it warm up while I brush snow off the windshield and windows, then put the chains on my tires. Living in this area, it’s pretty much required you have four-wheel drive, or you better bet your ass some time or another you’ll get stuck. Like the idiots right now on the road that runs along the front of my land.

  It takes me ten minutes to clear my truck enough to drive and for my windshield to defrost. The truck is toasty warm when I climb inside and go rescue some ass who’s ruining my relaxing day.

  Chapter 3

  Gwendolyn

  “Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Myers.” I lean down and hug the tiny woman.

  “It’s the least I can do, Gwen. You really didn’t have to drive all the way out here to bring me a pie.”

  I smile. “I wanted to. You’ve been so nice to me, and you’re the reason I’m even here.”

  Mrs. Myers is the grandmother of my best friend, Emma, back in Indianapolis. One day Emma was on the phone with her grandmother, who mentioned one of the elementary school’s teachers where she lived was moving away and the school board needed a replacement. It was fate, because just that day before I had told Emma that the kids and I needed a fresh start.

  She pats my hand and holds out a container with leftover stew to take home. “We’re glad to have you here in Cat’s Valley.” She puts her hand on top of Daniel’s head and ruffles his hair. “It’s been a delight getting to know these two.”

  Kelsey is stoic as she slips on her coat, staring off across the room. I hand her her gloves and watch as she robotically slips them on. Mrs. Myers walks over to her, gently grabs her cheeks, lifts her face, and kisses her forehead. Kelsey doesn’t respond in the slightest, just stares up at the older lady.

  “You both be good for your momma, and I’ll see you at Christmas,” she tells both the kids.

  “Will you have something for us?” Daniel asks, bold as you please.

  “Really, Daniel?” I scold. “You don’t ask questions like that.”

  Mrs. Myers cackles. “He’s fine.” She pinches one of his cheeks. “You, sir, will just have to wait and see.” She turns to me. “Emma’s already chomping at the bit to get here.”

  I hand Kelsey the container of stew to hold while I slip on my gloves. I pull my keys from my pocket, then take back the container.

  “I’m excited to see her. I miss her so much.”

  Emma’s been my friend since high scho
ol, and I’ve never gone this long without seeing her. We talk almost daily, but it’s not the same.

  I make sure both kids are bundled up tight before saying goodbye to Mrs. Myers. When I pull open the door, I’m shocked to see how much snow is on the ground and how hard it’s still coming down. When we got here a couple hours ago, there was only about six to eight inches on the ground. Now, my truck has a layer of snow at least four or five inches thick. The heavy snowfall wasn’t supposed to start until later this afternoon.

  “Oh dear,” Mrs. Myers says beside me. “I’m so sorry for keeping you so long. Will you be okay driving in this?”

  I turn to look at both kids, not liking the idea, but knowing I’ll have to in order to get home. “Yeah. I’ve got a four-wheel drive, and I’ve driven in snow before.”

  She looks worried as she twists her hands together, and I reach over and grab them. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.” I offer a smile.

  “Make sure you call me once you get home, or I’ll worry.”

  “Will do.”

  I leave the kids in the house while I warm up the truck and brush the snow off the windows and windshield. After saying our goodbyes, we load up. I’m used to driving in the snow, but it still makes me nervous, especially when it’s coming down so thick. The roads are covered, so I ride down the middle since the lines are no longer visible anyway. I drive slow and grip the steering wheel tightly. When we come across the stretch of road that declines for two miles, I become anxious. Luckily, we make it down the hill without any problems. The relief doesn’t last long though.

  We’ve been driving for about twenty minutes and are coming around a curve when all of a sudden, something about the size of a dog with a gray fluffy tail runs across the road. I know better than to do it in this type of weather, and I realize my mistake right away, but my first reaction is to hit the brakes to avoid hitting the animal. The back end of my truck fishtails around until we’re almost sliding sideways down the road. I vaguely hear Daniel yelling, but I’m concentrating on trying to straighten out the truck

  It’s a fruitless effort, as seconds later, we come to a jerky stop with the front end in a shallow ditch. I immediately turn to the kids.

  “Are you both okay?” I ask, looking over Daniel, who’s shaken but otherwise unharmed. My eyes go to Kelsey next and see no visible injuries. Her eyes are wide with fright and the look makes me sick to my stomach. “Kelsey?” Her gaze swings to mine. I reach back and grab her shaking hand. “Are you okay, baby?” She doesn’t respond right away, just looks around wildly, and fear spikes through me. Finally, her eyes meet mine and she gives me a small nod. I blow out a relieved breath that neither are hurt.

  I turn back around and take stock of our surroundings. The snow is coming down so hard that it’s already starting to cover the windshield, blocking my view. I look out the windows and see nothing. Turning, I look out the back window, and don’t see anything there either.

  I turn the key, hoping by some miracle I can get us out of here. My truck may be four-wheel drive, but I highly doubt I’ll be able to back us out of the position we’re in. We’re at too much of an angle and the snow is too thick. It’s worth a shot, though.

  I silently curse when it won’t even turn over. I pull my phone from my purse to call Jeremy, and panic sets in when I find I have no signal. I look up when the interior of the truck starts to dim. The snow is covering the windshield fast, and I can already feel the temperature dropping.

  I look back at the kids. “Keep on your jackets, hats, and gloves. I’m going to step outside a minute, okay?”

  “I’m scared, Mom,” Daniel says. He’s always been my strong boy, so for him to show fear now means he’s really scared.

  I get up on my knees and lean over the seat. Grabbing his cheeks, I make him look at me. “Listen to me. Everything is okay. I’m just going to step outside for a minute. I’m not getting a signal on my phone inside the truck because of the snow covering it. I’m going to call Jeremy and he’ll come help us.”

  He looks at me for several seconds, then he nods. I lean over more and kiss his forehead. I move to Kelsey next. She still looks frightened. “Watch over your brother while I’m outside, okay?”

  She nods, and I kiss her forehead as well. Sitting back in the front seat, I pull my gloves and hat back on. It won’t do much good without the engine going, and the heat won’t last long, but I turn the key in the ignition and warmth blasts out of the vents. Grabbing my phone, I quickly get out of the truck and slam the door closed to keep in as much heat as I can. Looking down at my phone, I still have no signal, which isn’t really a surprise. Although I detest lying to my kids, I wasn’t exactly truthful to Daniel. The chance of getting a signal outside the car is slim to none in this weather. The wind and snow are probably blocking any signal.

  I climb the small hill from the ditch and walk out to the middle of the road. I turn in circles, trying to locate a house, or some form of nearby living. The snow is coming down so heavy that it’s hard to keep my eyes open to see through it. I shield my eyes with my hand, but it’s no use, I see not one damn house around.

  Crap. What in the hell am I going to do?

  I walk back to the truck and quickly get inside. It’s warmer than it is outside, but when I turn to face the kids, they already have puffs of white coming out of their mouths when they breathe. I kill the engine; the air coming out of the vents is no longer warm in the slightest.

  “Mom,” Daniel says, his voice quivering. “What are we going to do?”

  I take a minute to answer him, because… well, I have no damn clue what I’m going to do. Obviously I can’t tell the kids that though. I’m the adult, and am supposed to have plans for everything. Helplessness and fear slither in when I realize how dire our situation is. This stretch of road is long and a good distance away from town. The few times I’ve been out this way, I’ve only seen a couple of cars, and the chance of one driving by now in this weather is pretty damn slim.

  What in the hell am I going to do? Think, Gwen!

  “Mom?”

  I look back at Daniel and force a smile. I need time to figure out a plan.

  “For now, you and your sister are going to come up front with me.” I point to the back. “Grab the blanket in the back and climb up here.”

  They both unbuckle, and while Daniel grabs the blanket, Kelsey climbs over the seat. I lift the console once Daniel has climbed up front as well. He sits in the middle, while Kelsey sits on the other side of him.

  “Scoot closer together.” They do so, and I put the blanket over all three of our laps. I always have a blanket in the back of my Range Rover. It stems from growing up in the north. My parents always told me it’s never a bad thing to be prepared. A look at the windshield shows it’s covered completely, and the window on my side is three quarters of the way. Kelsey’s window only has a thin layer because of the way the wind is blowing.

  “Are we going to be okay?” Daniel asks, and I look down at him, then over at Kelsey.

  “We’re going to be just fine. Someone is going to come by soon and see us.” I ruffle his hair, acting as though I’m not worried, while I silently start to freak out inside. My options are very limited. I can either leave them in the car while I go look for a house, hope another car comes this way and spots us, or bring them with me. I don’t like any of those options.

  I jump when I hear a loud thump on the window. When I look over some of the snow has slid off the window, and I see someone standing there. Both relief and fear mix together at seeing the person. On one hand, I’m relieved that someone has already found us and we won’t freeze to death, but on the other, I have no idea who it is. For all I know, it could be a serial killer. I don’t really have a choice though. It’s either take the chance and hope I’m not putting my kids in even more danger by opening the door, or ignore the person and hope someone else will find us before we freeze. I opt for decision number one, because the chances of a serial killer looking for victims o
utside in this weather are low.

  I look back at the kids. “See, I told you.” I smile.

  I take a deep breath, say a silent prayer, and turn the key so I can power down the window a few inches. Wind and snow immediately hit me in the face, and I have to blink a few times to clear my vision. When I do, I’m surprised at who I see. It’s the man from the market yesterday. His head is covered in a beanie and the way he’s holding his face against the wind hides the scarred side.

  “Hi. Thank you so much for stopping.”

  He bends and peers inside the truck, his eyes flickering from Daniel to Kelsey. He shows no surprise at seeing me.

  “Why are you driving out in this?” he asks, bringing his eyes back to mine. This close, they look a dark smoky gray, instead of the black they appeared the other day. I wonder if they change according to what he’s feeling.

  “We were dropping off a pie at Mrs. Myers’ place. It wasn’t supposed to be this bad this early,” I tell him.

  “You learn around here to always expect the worst. It says to expect snow tonight, then you prepare for it today. This close to the mountains, there’s no telling when the snow will actually get here.”

  “Is there any way you can pull me out?”

  He straightens and looks toward the front of the truck, then the back, assessing the situation, before bending back down.

  “Snow’s too thick. I’ve got chains on my tires, but they won’t do any good. You’re too far down into the ditch.”

  I grip the steering wheel and try to stay calm. It could be worse. We could still be out here alone. Besides, I didn’t really think there was a chance I’d get my truck out today anyway.

  I blow out a breath. “I hate to ask, especially in this weather, but is there any way you could give us a lift to town? My cell phone isn’t picking up a signal out here.”

  He turns his head, and in the six or so inch gap of window, his scar comes into view. The skin looks even more mangled up close. A twinge of pain pierces my chest. The pain he must have endured to have such scars.