Page 31 of Sugar & Shadows

Rather than respond, I closed my eyes and prayed that this storm would break. At this point, it would be morning before we got back to Maplewood.

“Do you want me to drive?” I offered once I’d tamped down my rage.

“What difference would that make? Regardless of who’s behind the wheel, the wind has to stop blowing snow drifts onto the windshield before we can go more than ten miles an hour.”

I surveyed the snowy highway, considering our options. Huntington, Falswood.

“Oh.” I straightened. “We’re near MapleBush.”

She frowned at the road in front of us. “What’s that?”

“A ski resort. One of the biggest in the state. I know a place. We can stop there and wait it out.”

“Are you lying and telling me it’s a ski resort when it’s really an abandoned mine? Are you going to murder me?”

“Tempting.” I chuckled. “But I left my tarp and cleaning solution at home. So the old-school mom-and-pop motel near the ski hill will have to do.”

“Ew.”

“Hey.” I shot her a look. “It’s a nice place and a great alternative to the expensive resorts. Nate and I stay there when we ski MapleBush. It’s nice, I promise.”

She let out a beleaguered sigh. “Let’s just keep going.”

Her arms and shoulders were tense, her face drawn. We’d been on the road since six, and if we stayed in this car, one of us would end up committing murder.

“I’m tired,” I said, keeping my tone soft. “And you’re tired. We haven’t seen a single plow, and according to the weather app on my phone, this is an absolute snow-mageddon. Let’s cut our losses and stop for a bit. Maybe get something to eat while we wait.”

Silently, she continued on, staring at the road ahead.

“I’d rather eat vending machine snacks than freeze to death when this overpriced hamster wheel veers off the road,” I said. “You can slum it for a night. Take the next exit.”

She let out a frustrated sigh that I took as agreement.

Smiling, I angled forward, squinting through the blizzard. “I’ll direct you.”

Naturally, the motel only had one room available.

Fuck.

But it wasn’t surprising, I guessed. The Montgomerys were a kindly couple in their sixties, and the vintage-style roadside motel was filled with snowboarders who’d seen the forecast and raced up here so they could catch the fresh powder first thing tomorrow. The place had always been neat and well cared for, but they’d spruced it up even more since I’d last visited. Apparently business was booming.

Small lodges like this didn’t really exist anymore, but knowing this one was doing so well gave me a sense of hope.

As we stepped away from the front desk, I jangled the key on the plastic keychain.

“I want my own room.”

“Sorry, this is all they have,” I said as I held the door open for her.

She burrowed into her coat, growling. “Then you can sleep in the car.”

“Generous offer, but no thanks.”

Our room was on the end, with snow piling up quickly outside the door. But the walk was decently shoveled and the overhead lights were bright. As I slid the key into the lock, an icy-cold, wet lump hit the back of my neck.

With a hand at my nape, I turned. “Did you just throw snow at me?”

Her lips twitched. “Yes.”