She followed the path his body had made in the snow, untied the tiny tree from the snowmobile and grabbed the keys from the machine while she was at it, though she doubted someone would make the effort to steal it in this weather. She headed back as quickly as her heavy limbs would allow, feeling the strangest desire to lay down in the whiteness. To make an angel while she still had the chance. To take a nap.
Why was she so tired?
The tree in her arms mocked her. All of a sudden it seemed symbolic of her fruitless quest for a happy holiday. It looked nearly as forlorn and alone as she felt. As hopelessly stubborn.
Stupid tree.
There would be a kind of poetry in it. Dying in the snow with a forlorn tree in her hand. The obituary would bring a tear to the eye. Her publisher would make sure of it.
Roux raced to her side, nudging her with the weight of her body, pushing Georgia forward. “I told you to stay in the car. You should be guarding your new boyfriend, girl. I’ll get there as fast as I can.” Breathing was starting to hurt. “What do you say to staying home next year? Sure it’s muggy and boring, but excitement is overrated. Maybe we can rent a snow machine and those little spray cans of snow for the windows. All the fun, none of the cold. Sounds like a plan to me.”
Roux whined. It sounded vaguely like the honking of a horn.
Georgia closed her eyes and saw nothing but the same bright white as when her lids were lifted. She’d only been in it for a few hours, but she was already beginning to hate the snow.
Adamant honking mixed with sudden barking rang in her ears and made her force her eyes open again. Maybe the tow truck driver had finally arrived. Surely he would help get snowmobile guy to safety. As for Georgia, as soon as she could feel her toes again she was hopping the next boat to Cozumel in honor of Connie, and following through on her promise to give up once and for all on Christmas. She’d pick another holiday to obsess over.
Maybe Groundhog Day.
Chapter Two
If she’d thought her injured snowmobiler was huge, she knew now she had been mistaken. Perhaps he was average size for Colorado. Maybe there was something in the water here. Everything was over the top. Multiple partners. Large mountains. Large men.
Large, sexy mountain men.
Georgia saw the new specimen of testosterone gone wild arrive as she clutched a tree and stood knee deep in the snow. He was not the tow truck driver from triple A. His uniform was her first clue. A uniform that imbued him with authority as much as the unbelievable span of his shoulders, or that monster of a truck he’d arrived in, complete with flashing red and blue lights.
He’d backed up until he was in front of her SUV and then strode swiftly toward the passenger side of her rental, where snowmobile hunk seemed to be regaining consciousness. The two men were speaking as if they knew each other. And large snow patrol hunk was obviously upset with large snowmobile hunk about something.
Huh. Georgia looked down at the tree, the burlap fabric wrapped around its base. As good a hiding place as any. Was snowmobile hunk a fugitive on the run? Had he stolen the snowmobile as well as something more valuable? Was this sad tree an unwilling accomplice in a crime involving smuggling?
Her chuckle was more like a wheeze, freezing in the shockingly cold air as soon as it left her lips. She was really letting her imagination get the best of her. And it was getting harder to concentrate. She needed to get back into her car and back on the road as soon as possible.
Snow patrol hunk must have heard her, and seemed just as surprised to find Georgia as she’d been to find an unconscious man in the snow. Then, quicker than she could take another step in their direction, he was heading in her direction.
He raised his voice so she could hear him over the wind. “You shouldn’t be out in this weather, ma’am, but I’m glad you were. Flynn just told me an angel saved him and went back for his tree. I imagine he was talking about you.”
Georgia raised her eyebrows. Or tried to. Who knew icicles could form on flesh? “My dog found him.”
He nodded, his long legs bringing him quickly to her side. When he reached her, he picked her up before she could protest and took her—not in the direction of her rental vehicle—but toward his. “And I’m thankful she did. But I doubt the dog dragged him all the way back to the road and to safety. When he missed checking in a few hours ago, I came out to find him. We told him he shouldn’t go out with a storm coming, but he’s always been the reckless one.”
Before she knew it, she felt the hot air from the truck’s heater blowing against her as he set her down in the backseat of his comfortable extended cab. She gasped at the sensation, but it stunned her out of her stupor. “Wait a minute. Thank you, but I need to get back to my car. And my dog. You can’t just toss people around like this, even if you are the snow patrol.”