Get a Clue(96)

Twenty-eight
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Among the great lines of all time:

1. This won’t hurt a bit.

2. The check’s in the mail.

3. I swear I won’t come in your mouth.

And . . . the granddaddy of them all (in my humble opinion):

4. I love you (this is the most troublesome).

—Breanne Mooreland’s journal entry





Cooper had ridden motorcycles all his life, so he figured riding a snowmobile would just come to him. Luckily, it did. It was an awesome feeling, gliding along the thick, powdery snow, beneath towering pines instead of crowded freeways. So was the sensation of Breanne snugged to the back of him, her chest pressed into his spine, her legs straddled around his.

That he could get used to. But it was cold, at somewhere around zero, far colder than he was used to. Being out here for longer than they had to be was a bad idea.

They followed Patrick, and Cooper was grateful the snow had stopped, because he had no idea where they were or which direction to go in. There were two colors; azure blue sky, and stark white landscape. The snow had thoroughly and completely wiped out any of the landmarks he might have remembered on the drive here—like roads. He figured if something happened and they were separated from Patrick, he could at least follow the tracks back to the house. Or so he hoped, because he really did not want to be a “lost in the Sierras” statistic.

Patrick led them straight for a few hundred yards, and then they veered right through a clearing, heading up over a hill. “We’re still on the road,” Patrick yelled back through his helmet. “Things are good so far.”

“How do you know?” Cooper yelled back.

“Truthfully?” He craned his neck and lifted a shoulder. “I’m just guessing.”

Great. Terrific. Perfect.

“The snow has never risen above the street poles before,” Patrick yelled. “I’m estimating where they are by the slight indentations every ten yards or so. See?”

Cooper saw the indentations, and since they were at regular intervals, he could only assume Patrick was right.

Ahead, Patrick slowed, pointing to a steep incline that definitely was not the road.

“Should be able to get phone reception up there,” he yelled, and with that, revved his snowmobile, let out a loud “Woo-hoo,” and took off at a high speed, bouncing over unknown dips and curves.

Cooper’s stomach sank. “Patrick—” Damn it. “He’s going to get stuck—”

As soon as the words were out of Cooper’s mouth, Patrick’s machine took a nosedive between two dips and bogged. The engine died.

Patrick straightened, shot them an oops look, and tried to restart.

“He’s going to have to dig out first,” Cooper said with a sigh.

Sure enough, the motor wouldn’t start, and as the snowmobile’s entire front end was buried, there was no getting to the engine compartment without digging.

Patrick got off the snowmobile and sank up to his chest in the fresh powder. “Shit.”

They dug for a few minutes and got nowhere. They were losing precious daylight.

“You go ahead,” Patrick finally said. “Get to the top where you can use the cell. I’ll keep digging.”

Cooper didn’t like the idea of separating, but it was going to take a good, long time to get Patrick’s snowmobile running again. He’d feel better about spending that time if they could just get the police notified and on their way here.

He took it slower and smarter than Patrick, or so he hoped. They made it through the trees and ended up along a ridge, looking down onto a breathtaking landscape of crystal-clear lakes, pristine forests, and abundant wildlife.#p#分页标题#e#

“Wow,” Breanne breathed in his ear when a wild rabbit dashed right across their trail.

Cooper turned off the snowmobile and pulled out his cell phone, pausing first to enjoy the feel of her up against him, her arms around his waist, her cheek resting on his shoulder.

“What’s the matter?” she asked. “No reception?”

“There’s reception.” He closed his eyes and tried to soak up the moment so he’d remember, so he’d always remember this.

Breanne ran a gloved hand up his chest, settling it right over his heart. “I was wrong before, Cooper.”

He twisted around to see her. “Wrong about what?”

“To let you think I wanted this to be over when we get out of here.” She pulled off her helmet, waiting while he did the same. Then she pressed her mouth to his neck, his ear, and when he turned his body, she kissed him, long and sweet. “I was scared,” she said when they pulled apart. “Still am,” she admitted softly. “I know it sounds silly, but thinking about what I could grow to feel for you churns me up more than finding Edward. More than being in the dark for the past two days. More than—”