Chapter Nine

US Highway 385, twenty-one miles out of Deadwood

7:35 p.m.

It was going to be a blue, blue Christmas without Elvis.

Crud.

I could avoid telling Addy that her chicken had run away in the middle of a snowstorm and most likely frozen her tail feathers off. That would delay the aftermath of tears for the time being, but the truth would come out as soon as we returned home to a chicken-less basement.

Damn. There’d be no end to the buckets of drama and hours of blame-laced wails.

I buried my face in my gloves. It’d be like reliving Christmas break back when fifteen-year-old Susan stole my driver’s license and Mom’s car keys, snuck out after midnight, and got busted by the cops as she was spinning doughnuts in the school parking lot with a car full of her friends all sloshed on peppermint schnapps.

Susan’s drunken accusations later that night about how her illicit actions were all my fault because I’d refused to sneak her over to her friend’s party had turned my mom into a fire-breathing dragon. Quint had been on a photography field trip to the Everglades for college credits that year, so he’d lucked out, dodging the ear-ringing fireworks.

Good ol’ Susan. She was such a pro at pissing all over our happy family moments. Just once I’d like to … Never mind. This was not the time to reminisce about Susan’s history of wreaking holiday havoc. I had a bigger problem at the moment. Bigger even than a missing chicken.

I lowered my hands and staggered around to the front of my rig, leaning into the blasts of cold air.

“Winter wonderland, my ass,” I bellyached, my teeth chattering while the frigid wind rocked me in my boots. Snow pelted my face, sticking to my eyelashes.

I shivered, my shoulders pulling in tight as I stood in the middle of the two-lane highway. My SUV’s headlights blazed from behind me, but in a storm this fierce, the bright beams of light weren’t much help. They reflected off the swirling flakes, blinding me rather than illuminating the vast stretch of dark, empty snow-covered road in front of me.

Old Man Winter could be such a dick. He’d gone and coated the hills in a thick blanket of white on Christmas Eve of all days. It was going to take at least a week of December sunshine to melt this white fluffy crap away. I scowled long and hard, not giving a flying reindeer if my face froze that way either.

The wind raged and howled around me, tearing through my blue wool coat. It stole my breath and gripped my bones with its freezing fingers. I tucked my scarf tighter around me, weighing my options. The blizzard had crowded into the Black Hills so fast, pushing and shoving to make it in time for Christmas.

Trudging ahead through the frozen tundra would be right up there with dodging icebergs in the North Atlantic. Besides, my new purple snow boots were no match for the drifts, many of which were already knee-deep and rising.

“Razzle-frazzit,” I muttered through stiff lips.

Down on the prairie in the warm bosom of my parents’ house, my two kids were waiting for Santa and me to show. Earlier on the phone, I’d reassured them the snowy roads wouldn’t stop me from arriving in time to help them prep for St. Nick. Little had I realized then that Old Man Winter had a plan to knock me on my caboose and then kick me while I was down.

But I wasn’t waving any white flags yet. Nope. I still had plenty of grit in my gizzard. Raising my gloved hands, I aimed both middle fingers at the sky. “Kiss off, icehole!”

A strong gust of wind rammed me from behind, knocking me to my hands and knees in the snow. Cold wetness soaked through my jeans and gloves. Before I could catch my breath, another blast of air hit me, blowing snow into my face.

Son of a sugarplum!

I wiped at my eyes with my coat sleeve. Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the maelstrom whirling overhead. Somehow, I had to make it to my kids through this frozen wasteland.

The only thing left to do at this point was wait for Cooper and his so-called cavalry. Although unless he had a sleigh and eight flying reindeer, I wasn’t sure how he could help me get home for Christmas—chicken or no chicken.

The purr of my Honda’s engine held a steady rhythm under the moaning and whistling wind, reminding me of one of those nature relaxation soundtracks. Unfortunately, it did nothing to help lower my blood pressure.

Poor Addy. This holiday was going to be so hard on her. How was I going to make up for losing Elvis?

A squall of snow swirled over me, dusting me from head to toe. I closed my eyes and mopped my face, the stinging cold no match for the anxiety pinching my chest.

One thing I could try to do to make Christmas better for everyone if we made it to my parents’ place was not fight with Susan. As much as the thought of putting up with my sister’s conniving bullshit made me grind my molars, the next couple of days would be much merrier if I didn’t let her goad me into another bicker-fest.

Although, if that jezebel laid one finger on …

Cluck.

I blinked open my snow-coated lashes. A white chicken head filled my vision, the red comb sprinkled with snowflakes.

Cluck cluck. Elvis flutter-hopped onto my chest. She stared down at me, turning her head in jerky movements one way and then the other. Cluck.

“Elvis! You came back to me.” I hugged her to my chest until she squawked and pecked at my gloved knuckles. “My sweet little good-luck charm.”

“Violet?” Doc kneeled in the snow next to me, the headlights spotlighting his profile. “What are you doing down here?” He plucked a feather from my hat. “Did you slip and fall?”

“I’m just chillin’ with my peep.” I nuzzled Elvis again.

A grin split the half of his face that was visible in the light. He glanced up at Natalie, who’d joined our little reunion. “I think she’s officially starting to unravel.”

She guffawed. “She’s been unraveling since she played hide and seek in the creepy Hessler house last summer. All of that clown shit scrambled her egg.”

Cornelius came up next to Natalie and looked down at me with a perplexed expression. “Did you know that a group of clowns is called a ‘clown alley’?”

I shuddered at the thought of running into even a single clown in an alley. Natalie was right, that night in the Hessler house had cracked my noggin and shaken up my world.

“Hey, when did Sparky lose ‘er vertical hold?” Harvey hollered, leaning into the wind by my knees.

“I once dated a guy who was a rodeo clown,” Natalie told Cornelius. “His stage name was Horn E. Butt.”

I groaned, remembering Horn and his collection of raunchy belt buckles and frequent rude gestures.

“Did he live up to his name?” Harvey asked.

She scowled. “I guess. He was already sleeping with three other women when we started dating. One turned out to be his wife, who claimed eight seconds was about all Horn was good for most nights.”

The rumbling sound underneath the wind deepened, growing louder.

“Do you guys hear that?” I handed Doc the chicken and sat up. “We should put a sweater on that bird before she gets freezer burn.”

“Or a bathing suit.”

I did a double take. “Why a bathing suit?”

“The best way to quickly defrost a frozen chicken is in a cold water bath,” Doc said matter-of-factly.

I grinned. “Funny and sexy. I’m a lucky girl.”

He winked, leaning closer. “Don’t forget ‘good for more than eight seconds,’ too.”

“Most of the time, Candy Cane,” I teased and kissed his cold lips.

He laughed and passed Elvis to Natalie, and then he held out his hand to help me up. “Do we hear what, Killer?” he asked while helping me brush off my backside rather thoroughly.

“That rumbling.” I adjusted my hat so it didn’t cover my ears, listening in the wind. The sound was definitely louder, sort of growling now. “I think it’s coming from that way.” I pointed toward the dark road behind us.

Natalie moved up next to me, Elvis wrapped in her arms, and stared into the darkness behind my Honda. “Maybe the snowplow driver is coming back with a mechanic.”

“That ain’t no whiny snowmobile engine,” Harvey said, walking past us. He stopped at the back bumper and stared into the flying snow beyond it.

We all joined him, Natalie pausing long enough to shove Elvis inside the warm vehicle.

What started as a dull glow in the darkness grew and brightened as the rumbling intensified.

“It sounds like my uncle’s Sherman tank,” Cornelius said next to me.

Harvey did a double-take. “Yer uncle has a tank?”

“He has three, including a Panzer. He takes his war games seriously.”

Harvey’s two gold teeth glittered in the red glow of my taillights. “I’d sure like to play on his battlefield.”

“You think that’s Cooper and his cavalry?” I asked nobody in particular.

“I sure hope so,” Harvey sniffed. “ ‘Cause it’s cold as a cast-iron commode out here, and my twig and berries are one stiff breeze from breakin’ free and blowin’ clear to the Wyoming state line.”

“Mine, too,” Natalie said, shivering. When Harvey and I both frowned at her, she added, “My berries, I mean, since I’m currently twig-less due to my sabbatical.”

“You’re twig-less, all right,” I said.

“Can it, ninnyhammer.” She nudged me into Doc, who steadied me in front of him.

The glow became a glare in the white landscape, making me squint. I counted eight headlamps. “What is it?” I asked Doc as the engine growl became louder than the wind.

“A snowcat.”

I shielded my eyes as the imposing beast of a machine came to a stop in front of us. “Where on earth did Cooper get a snowcat on Christmas Eve?” I shouted above the noise.

Harvey grabbed my elbow and tugged me off to the right, out of the bright spotlights. The diesel engine idled down to a low, rhythmic rattle, making it easier to hear. “It ain’t Coop’s, it’s Reid’s.”

Now that I wasn’t blinded by the eight headlamps, I had a better view of the snowcat. Sporting a snow blade on the front and two wide tracks in place of wheels, the big boxy cab had four windows running along each side and a rack on the top.

The driver-side door opened. Reid Martin crawled out onto the wide track and jumped down to the road, joining us along with Doc.

Reid’s red canvas coat and Santa hat matched the color of his snowcat. “Hey, Sparky. I hear you’re in need of a big strong fireman again.”

I laughed and gave him a hug. He smelled like hot chocolate and felt as warm as a toasted marshmallow. “Am I glad to see you, Fire Captain Martin. Please tell me you left a certain crabby-pants elf back in Deadwood.”

“Nope. Coop threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t bring him along for the ride. He’s inside letting dispatch know we found you.”

Dang. Of course Cooper would want to come up here and chew me out in person for dragging his uncle into this blustering mess.

“What do you have there, Martin?” Doc asked, pointing at the snowcat. “A magic sleigh?”

Reid grinned, thumbing toward the snowcat. “That little thing? That’s a ’74 Thiokol Spryte 1200C with 44-inch wide tracks able to cut through sand, swamp, mud, snow, or anything else you can throw in its path.”

“Like this blizzard?” I asked.

His eyes crinkled in the corners. “Sure. I can punch a road through the snow without breaking a sweat and haul your gear up top, too.”

Doc’s face lit up as he admired Reid’s big-boy toy. “Where’d you pick that up?”

“Yellowstone National Park was auctioning off its old snowcats a few years back. I grabbed one, figuring it’d be good to have here in the hills for emergencies in the backcountry. I gutted the back and refitted it with fold-up bench seats in case I needed to use it as a makeshift ambulance.”

I joined Doc in his admiration. Something this big could fit all of us in it and my Christmas haul, too. “How fast does it go, Reid?”

“Fast enough to get you down to Rapid City in time for Santa Claus to wiggle down that chimney.”

Cooper rounded the front of the snowcat. “Dotty wanted me to remind you that you’re invited to her place for Christmas dinner if you have nowhere else to go,” he told Reid, before turning on me with a chiseled glare under his black knit beanie hat. He crossed his arms, looking even bigger and more intimidating than usual in his bulky police coat. “Parker, you picked one hell of a night to get stuck out in the middle of nowhere.”

I raised my chin. “Did you come all of the way up here to rub that in, Cooper?”

“No. I came up here to drag your ass back to town.”

I dug in my heels. “I’m not going back to Deadwood.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, she’s not.” Natalie took my side, literally, and locked elbows with me. “And you can’t make us.”

Cooper’s gaze narrowed as he looked back and forth between us.

“We’re headin’ down to Rapid, Coop,” Harvey said, huddling his shoulders as a stiff wind rattled us. “And yer comin’, too.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because we want you to,” I said, bumping Natalie’s shoulder. “Don’t we, Nat?”

“Yeah, we sure do,” Natalie said, although she could have tried harder to sound like she meant it, darn it.

I turned to Reid. “You have enough fuel to get us down to Rapid?”

He nodded. “But I need a favor in return.”

“Name it.”

“Invite me to stay for Christmas. I have something I want to give Zo.”

“Martin,” Cooper butted in. “This was not part of the plan that we talked about on the way up here.”

“Not what you planned, maybe,” Reid said with a twinkle in his eye. “But I had something else in mind when I agreed to go for a ride in the snow.”

Cooper cursed. “What makes you think Zoe won’t chase you away with her shotgun again when you show up on her brother’s doorstep?”

“For one thing,” Reid said, “I’m betting she left her shotgun at home.”

“Fer another,” Harvey added, “he’s savin’ the day by haulin’ us all down out of the harrowin’ cold and snow to safety.” He patted Reid’s shoulder. “That there oughta win ya a kiss under the mistletoe from the hard-headed woman.”

“Maybe even two,” I said, feeling lighter than I had since the snow started falling hours ago in Deadwood. I looked over at Cornelius, who was already untying the trident from the top of my rig, while Elvis walked back and forth along the top of the back seat inside.

“What do you say, Reid?” I spread my arms wide. “Would you like to join us for Christmas down at my parents’ place?” I asked officially. “You can bring a guest if you’d like, but he has to promise not to arrest anyone while he’s there.”

Reid’s laughter was swallowed by the wind. “I’d love to come to your family Christmas, Sparky. Thanks for asking.”

I turned to Cooper. “Well, Detective? You think you can stomach a bit of family excitement without pulling out your handcuffs?”

“I left my handcuffs back at Nyce’s place,” he said, looking at Natalie for a moment before giving in with a nod. “Fine, Parker. Let’s get the hell out of here before I end up stuck in that damned snowcat with you for the night.”

“That’s the Christmas spirit, Coop,” I said with a chuckle and gave him a playful punch in the shoulder.

“That’s ‘Cooper’ to you, Parker,” he said and joined Doc and Reid in unloading my SUV.

Natalie watched him walk away. “Well, so much for my relaxing Christmas with your family.”

I scoffed. “Like that was even going to happen with Susan in the picture.”

Harvey chortled next to me. “Yer aunt’s in fer a big Christmas surprise, Sparky.”

He was spot on there. Aunt Zoe was going to pop a gasket when she saw Reid walk in with us, but if I could be nice to Susan, she could play nice with her ex.

I pulled my hat down lower. “Just keep your fingers crossed this whole holiday doesn’t blow up in our faces.”