Snow Angels. Fern Michaels

must have miscalculated the miles, Grace proceeded to drive down the two-lane highway, searching for an all-night gas station, anyplace where she could find a phone to call Stephanie to assure her the girls were fine. They’d been through so much, and Grace felt she was putting their safety at risk again.

      After driving for what seemed like forever, it was after midnight when she pulled the van off to the side of the road. Fearing what she had to do, yet knowing it must be done, Grace leaned over the front seat and gently shook Amanda and Ashley until they were awake.

      “Miss Grace,” came the sleepy voice of eight-year-old Ashley. “Where’s Mommy?”

      Five-year-old Amanda perked up when she heard Ashley asking for their mother. “Is Mommy okay?” Grace heard the fear in their soft little voices.

      “Mommy is just fine. She’s at Hope House, remember?” Grace knew she was stalling while trying to come up with a plan that would have no adverse effect on the girls.

      Both wide-awake, they nodded.

      “But we’re supposed to be home by now, aren’t we?” Ashley asked.

      “Yes, sweetie, we are. I seem to have made a wrong turn, and I’m lost. I’m sorry, I don’t want to alarm either of you. I just need to make a call to your mother to let her know we’re safe, okay?”

      Her words seemed to reassure both girls. Grace removed her jacket from the seat next to her. Slipping one arm at a time into the sleeves, she was glad she’d chosen the heavy parka since she was about to venture out into Colorado’s ever-dropping frigid temperatures.

      “So why aren’t you calling?” Amanda asked with a trace of anxiety in her high-pitched voice.

      Grace admitted to herself she was not the image of dependability and trustworthiness she’d presented to the girls when she’d convinced them a night away from their mother would be fun. In fact, she was just the opposite.

      Reluctantly, Grace said, “I’m afraid my cell phone isn’t working.”

      Over the top of the seat, two pairs of big brown eyes stared at her. Waiting.

      “You can’t leave us here by ourselves, Miss Grace! Mommy says we’re never to be alone. Right, ’Manda?”

      The younger girl nodded. “Yeah, Mommy says so.”

      Saddened at the look of distrust on their small faces, Grace leaned over the seat and brushed her hands over both the girls’ heads. “Oh, girls, I would never leave you alone! What I meant to say is you’ll both have to come with me. We can pretend it’s a…treasure hunt. Whoever finds a phone first gets to pick out and decorate the Christmas tree any way she wants to. Deal?” Grace asked as she saw smiles light up their eyes.

      “Deal,” they said in unison.

      “Then let’s get your mittens, coats, and hats on. It’s much colder now than it was earlier.”

      Grace bundled the girls up, grabbed a bottle of water and a flashlight from the glove compartment and tucked them inside her coat pocket, then draped her purse over her shoulder so she could take both girls by the hand. It wouldn’t do for her to lose contact with them. The snow was so thick, Grace could barely make out the van as they stepped away from its familiar safety.

      Gazing up at the sky, Grace tried to determine which direction to head, but unlike the movies, there were no stars to guide her, nothing. She was on her own.

      Deciding to walk uphill in the direction she’d been driving, she clasped both girls’ mitten-clad hands in her own as they trudged through the deepening snow. Every few minutes they would stop to catch their breath. The high elevation and the effort it took to walk uphill would strain even some of the world’s best athletes.

      When they’d walked uphill for more than an hour, Ashley yanked her hand away from Grace and pointed to a light up ahead. “Miss Grace, look. Look!”

      Grace’s heart did a somersault. Thank God! At the top of the mountain she saw windows aglow with lights. She grabbed Ashley’s hand. “I believe Miss Ashley gets to choose the tree. Come on, girls, let’s hurry before—” She started to say before our luck runs out, but given the girls’ past, thought better of it, and said “—they go to bed,” instead.

      As they trudged through the snow, their shallow breathing created swirls of fog in the cool night air. Grace wasn’t sure how much longer the girls could stand the bitter cold and wind. Off to the left, Grace spied a road sign telling her they were approaching Blow Out Hill. Great, she thought as she pulled the girls along. She’d had a blowout all right. She’d blown the entire evening. Stephanie and the girls would never trust her again.

      Heart pounding with every step, Grace rehearsed what she would say to Stephanie. She had to be out of her mind with worry by now. It was almost two in the morning. Angry at herself for her stupidity, she calmed down enough to knock loudly on the door of the biggest log home she’d ever laid eyes on.

      Chapter 2

      Max Jorgenson jerked awake from a sound sleep when Cliff and Ice-D, his two Siberian Huskies, placed four heavy paws on his chest as he lay sprawled out on the leather sofa. When the pair saw that his eyes were open, they started barking and running around in circles.

      Glancing around the great room, Max raked a hand through his hair. He’d fallen asleep again, with the lights on and the television blaring. Correcting himself, he mentally changed the words “fallen asleep” to “passed out.” Who cared? He sure as hell didn’t. Cliff nudged his hand with his furry nose as Max heard a soft pounding at the front door.

      “What the heck?” he said as he rambled toward the front of what he referred to as his giant cabin. If there was an emergency at the resort, the management knew not to come to his retreat, knew there would be extreme consequences. He’d have someone’s ass in a sling for this unwanted intrusion first thing in the morning. He peeked at the clock above the fireplace. It was morning already.

      The muffled pounding continued. “Eddie, if that’s you, you’re fired!” Max yanked the heavy log door aside expecting to see Eddie, his manager at Maximum Glide, the exclusive ski resort he owned in Telluride.

      What he saw left him speechless.

      Taking several seconds to recover from his surprise, as was his habit when flustered, he raked both hands through his unruly brownish blond hair. “You must have the wrong house.” These were the only words he could come up with as two little girls bundled in Pepto-Bismol pink jackets and matching hats and both with huge chocolate-drop eyes and their mother, their gorgeous, green-eyed mother, stared at him.

      “We need to use your phone,” Grace stated in a firm voice, then stepped to the side as both Cliff and Ice-D bumped her free hand with their muzzles.

      “Yeah, ’cause our daddy—”

      “Not now, Ashley,” Grace interrupted.

      Realizing the trio must be freezing, Max stepped aside. “Down, guys,” he said to the dogs, then to his unexpected guests, “Come inside, you’re letting in the cold air.”

      The woman took both girls by the hand and led them inside. Their faces were just a shade shy of burgundy when they stood in the bright light.

      “How long have you been out in this…weather?” He wanted to curse but stopped himself when he glanced down at the two girls.

      “There are several roadblocks in Eagle along I–70. We were directed this way, and somehow I missed the turnoff.” Grace touched her purse strapped around her neck like a bayonet. “My cell-phone battery died.”

      “I bet your car broke down, or you ran out of gas, too,” Max accused Grace.

      Inching her chin up a notch, just enough not to appear too haughty, Grace answered in a firm voice, “Neither.”

      With a trace of sarcasm Max asked, “So you decided to take your kids out for a midnight stroll