Page 55 of Single Mom’s Navy Seals (Claimed by the Alphas #2)

She was probably just taking in my city clothes and my lack of mountain-woman vibes, but it still set me on edge. "You might want to keep an eye on the weather. Storm's supposed to roll in tonight. Could get nasty."

I breathed a little easier. The weather.

Everyone kept talking about this damn weather.

"How nasty?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual and not at all irritated.

"Hard to say. Mountain weather is unpredictable. Could be a few inches, could be a couple feet. You've got four-wheel drive?"

I nodded toward the SUV. "And snow tires."

"That's good. Just take it slow if it starts coming down heavy. These roads can get slick fast, and cell service gets spotty once you're really up in the mountains."

I nodded. “I’m used to snow, living in New York, and Minnesota, where they don’t really treat a lot of county roads.”

She shook her head. “But that’s different from these mountain passes.”

Now, she sounded like Riley.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

She smiled at me softly and handed my pretzels over. I flashed a smile back and turned on my heel.

Ding.

Ding.

Riley.

She had texted twice, back-to-back, needing updates.

I shook my head. Had to love her.

I sent a quick reply letting her know I was making good time, but the truth was, the snow was starting to pick up a bit, and I wasn’t trying to drive pedal to the metal, even if the sun was starting to set when I got back on the road.

I had to admit, though, it painted the mountains in shades of gold and pink in a way that was breathtaking. So much so that I pulled over, grabbed my camera from the passenger seat, and got out of the car to take a few snaps.

It would make a great photo for my article.

As soon as I started driving again, my phone vibrated incessantly with a weather alert: Winter storm warning in effect. Heavy snow expected. Snowfall amounts of 12-18 inches possible. Winds gusting to 45 mph. Avoid unnecessary travel.

I glanced at the GPS. Thirty minutes to my destination. I could make it. The snow was getting heavier and heavier, but surely I could make it thirty-freaking-minutes.

And really, what was the alternative? Turn around and drive two hours back to the airport? Sleep in my car at a gas station?

No. I was Emma Stewart, travel writer, New Yorker, and Minnesota native. I was used to some snow. Mountains or no mountains.

Hell, I'd navigated the streets of Bangkok solo before Marcus. I had done a lot of solo traveling before him, and I was planning to continue it after. I’d even hiked through the Scottish Highlands alone, survived a food poisoning incident in Morocco that would have sent most people running home to their mothers.

Damn near got kidnapped in Italy. I could handle a little snow.

I finally turned onto Copper Canyon Road.

The big, puffy flakes were beautiful at first, fat and lazy, catching the SUV's headlights just so.

I turned up the heat and the radio, singing along to an old Taylor Swift song that didn't remind me of Marcus.

This was all going to be fine. I was going to be fine.

Better than fine. This was exactly what I needed.

And I was going to turn over a new leaf and be better because of it all.

The snow kept falling, but I kept driving, following the GPS.

I was getting closer and closer.

Twenty-four minutes now.

But the further I got up on the mountain road, the narrower it got. The windier, too.

I had to slow down for a second, as the snow was accumulating a little too much on the path. My wipers went damn near crazy just to keep the snow off the glass. But I was almost there.

I could do this. I had to.

The GPS announced a turn in half a mile, so I slowed down a bit. I didn’t want to risk missing it in the growing downpour. Copper Canyon Road was narrower than the highway, though, and it wound through a forest setting where the trees were a bit too close for my comfort.

My phone signal dropped to two bars. And then… one.

“Shit,” I muttered. “Come on.” But I wasn’t able to will it to work.

I just had to hope I had downloaded enough of the trek to get there.

Eight more miles and I’d be there. I could practically taste the hot chocolate I was going to make once I got in there. There was a cute little nook for coffee and hot beverages that I’d eyed on the website.

The snow was starting to fall even harder now, thick enough that I had to slow down significantly to maintain control of the car.

The wipers were working overtime, but they couldn't keep up with the accumulation.

I leaned forward, gripping the steering wheel tightly, trying to peer through the white curtain that was in front of my view.

“You can still do this…” I whispered to myself.

This was still manageable. Challenging, sure, but it was totally manageable.

I'd driven in snow before, growing up in Minnesota.

Granted, that had been on flat roads with plenty of room for error, not narrow mountain passes with drop-offs on one side and steep slopes on the other.

But how different could it be?

I could do this.

The GPS recalculated, adding ten minutes to my arrival time.

Then fifteen. The SUV was struggling now, even with four-wheel drive engaged, the tires fighting for their lives, and mine, on the increasingly slick road.

I could feel them sliding on turns, the back end wanting to swing out despite my careful steering.

My hands were cramping from gripping the wheel so tightly, and my anxiety was climbing the more seconds that passed.

I realized I'd been holding my breath for the last several minutes.

This was more than "a little snow." This was a full-on blizzard, the kind of storm that shuts down cities and strands people for days. The kind of storm I’d only ever seen on TV.

But I was so close. The GPS showed only four more miles to the cabin. Four miles, and then I'd be safe and warm, with a fire and hot food and all the time in the world to wait out the storm.

I just had to make it four more miles.

I squinted, trying to see as I made a turn between huge trees on either side.

“Shit…” I muttered, feeling my tires skid a bit.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep the car steady, and then—I was sliding, the wheel spinning in my hands as the vehicle drifted toward the edge of the bend.

“Shit!” I squealed, fighting to regain control, pumping the brakes the way my dad had taught me years ago as I turned into the skid the way I was supposed to.

But I was still getting close to the edge of the cliff.

I could tell by a few fallen logs below.

I screamed. There was empty space where the road fell away into darkness.

But the tires found traction at the last second, and I managed to steer back toward the center of the road, my whole body shaking with adrenaline.

"Okay," I said aloud to myself, my voice embarrassingly shaky. "Okay, that was close. But you’re fine, Emma. Everything's fine." I took a deep breath.

I didn’t feel very fine.

The snow was getting worse by the minute, and I was driving with no freaking cell service and no way to call for help if something went wrong.

The smartest thing would have been to find somewhere to pull over and wait it out, but there was nowhere to pull over.

The road was barely wide enough for one vehicle, with steep slopes on both sides.

And the GPS showed I was in the middle of nowhere, miles from the nearest town in either direction.

And I was so freaking close!

I had to keep going. The cabin was so freaking close. Two more miles, according to the GPS. Then one mile. Then half a mile. I was closing in. And quick.

I was going to make it. Despite the storm, despite my inexperience with mountain driving, despite every warning I'd ignored, I was actually going to make it.

That's when I saw the deer.

It appeared out of nowhere.

A big, magnificent buck with a full rack of antlers, seemingly unbothered by the blizzard raging all around it, fifty feet from me.

I slammed on the brakes instinctively, forgetting everything I'd ever learned about driving in snow. The vehicle immediately went into a skid again, sliding sideways down the road as I fought desperately to regain control all over again.

But it was too late.

With a powerful SLAM, the car hit a snowbank at the side of the road. The crunch of metal and plastic agonizing in my ear as the impact threw me forward against the seatbelt, knocking the wind right out of me, and then everything went still and my vision blurred…

I could just stay put and hope someone would find me, but who would be driving these roads in this weather? The cabin rental company wasn't expecting me to check in until tomorrow, and Riley wouldn't start worrying for hours yet. By then, I could be buried under feet of snow.

My breathing was out of control all of a sudden. I was starting to hyperventilate as my eyes grew heavy, and blackness surrounded me.