Chapter Two

Renee Black stored the last of her full gas canisters in the backyard shed. There. That was enough to keep the generator going for days. Even if the early snowfall materialized and knocked out power, she and Charlie would be all set.

The old-fashioned ring tone of her cell phone echoed in the quiet air of her backyard and she tugged the phone out of the pocket of her military-style peacoat.

Please don’t be Charlie’s school, please don’t be Charlie’s school.

It was Charlie’s school.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Black? This is Principal Partnope.”

“Yes? Is something wrong? Is Charlie okay?”

“Your son is fine now, Ms. Black, but we really need you to come immediately. How soon can you be here?”

“What happened?” She hated when they did this, told her to come down without telling her exactly why.

“We’ve had an incident. It’s best we discuss this in person. Will you be able to come?”

“I’m already on my way.” She dug out the keys to her pickup from the coat. “Is my son okay?”

“He’s calm and safe now.”

Now. Implying he hadn’t been before. Oh, Charlie. How bad had it been this time? “What happened?” she asked again.

“I’ll explain when you get here. Thank you, Ms. Black.”

He hung up on her. Dammit. The least he could do was give her some hint what had happened instead of making her run fifty million scary scenarios in her head on the way. She whistled for Thor and Loki. Her search-and-rescue-trained German Shepherds came bounding over from the other side of the yard. She knelt down and hugged them, noting the white on their muzzles, which struck her as especially prominent today. They were elderly dogs by regular standards and especially old for SAR dogs, as the work took a toll. Any day they could get outside and romp was a good day for them. She dreaded the coming of winter. They felt the cold so much now.

“I heard you barking at some animal, boys. What did you find?” They didn’t chase squirrels. They knew better. Maybe it was the stray cat Charlie had spotted over the last few days. “I guess it doesn’t matter. In the house you go!”

She pointed and they headed inside through the open garage and through the doggie door. She pulled her truck out, closed the garage door, and drove down her long, winding driveway at a higher speed than she should have. She’d made this kind of trip far too often lately.

Charlie needed routine and order. He was already on a 504 Plan—special accommodations—because of his diagnosis of autism.

She stayed hyper-alert around Charlie because if she spotted the signs of an incoming meltdown, she could head it off. But Charlie’s teacher had a full classroom and couldn’t do the same.

She’d asked the school for full psychological testing that might result in Charlie being classified as special ed and being given an aide who could watch him fulltime at school, like she did at home. Charlie’s teacher, Mr. Lamoreux, was on her side but he kept saying the principal, Partnope, was against it. Partnope had given her an entire litany of excuses as to why they should put off testing.

“He’s not that impaired.” “His grades are very good.” “His behavior chart, full of rewards, will be a big help.”

A big help? It obviously hadn’t helped today.

Every time she convinced herself her son was stabilizing, the school called again. It was one step forward, two steps back.

A text alert blared from her phone. She ignored it while she drove along the twisty corners of the back road. Only when she entered the center of Bernard and stopped at the main traffic light did she glance at the text. It was from the school too, but this time a general message informing parents the school had an early release because of the impending snow.

The light turned and, as she went through the intersection, she noticed the traffic was heavier than usual. Likely everyone was preparing for the storm.

Once she reached the school, finding a parking space was nearly impossible. She finally parked the truck on the grassy divider between the two main lots.

The office buzzed her in the front door without even asking for her name. After her many visits over the past two months, the staff knew her by sight. She ran her hand over her hair to smooth it down and unzipped her jacket. Only then did she realize she was still wearing her Captain Marvel “Princess Sparklefists” superhero T-shirt.

She bet Principal Partnope wouldn’t get the joke. Add that to the old peacoat and her looking ragged because of this morning’s work outside, and she’d earn Partnope’s disdain again. Maybe if she wore designer clothes and shoes like half the women in town instead of her jeans, work boots and her geeky T-shirts, the principal would take her more seriously.

Steeling herself for yet another confrontation, she opened the front door to the school office. Dorothy, the office manager, smiled at her. “Good to see you, Ms. Black.”

Dorothy, impeccable as always in a pretty sweater, seemed glad to see her. “Good to see you too. Where’s Charlie? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Ms. Black. He’s been asking for you.”

“Thanks.” Not for the first time, Renee wished Dorothy ran the school. Charlie liked her and listened to her. “What happened? Where is he?”

Dorothy pulled a pencil from behind her ear and pointed with it. “He’s in the conference room over there. He promised to draw me a picture of Thor.”

“Great. Did he mean my dog or the superhero?”

“You know, I didn’t ask. But I’d love either.”

Renee turned to the conference room but Principal Partnope came out of his office and intercepted her.

“I’d like to talk to you first, before you see Charlie. This was a pretty serious incident.”

“I just want to make sure he’s okay, thanks.” She pushed open the door to the small conference room. Charlie sat there with a supply of crayons and blank paper in front of him. He smiled and ran over to her. She hugged him tight.

She drank in the sight, smell and feel of her son, his dark unruly hair, his brown eyes, his favorite Batman T-shirt and the whiff of peanut butter on his breath. I love you, kid.

Yes, she definitely needed this hug before talking to Partnope. She knelt down to look him in the eye.

“I like your T-shirt,” he said. “Is it new?”

“Just came yesterday. Along with your new Batman Beyond shirt.”

“Awesome.” But he stared at the floor instead of at her. He shuffled his feet. “I did something really bad, Mom. But it was their fault. They were mean to me.”

“What did you do?”

“I hit Mr. Revis,” he whispered.

“Who’s Mr. Revis?” she asked.

“Our substitute teacher this week.”

“Right.” Mr. Lamoreux was out for several weeks after having broken his leg.

“What happened?” she asked.

Charlie waved his hands. “He was really mean. He tricked me!”

Mr. Partnope poked his head into the room. “May we talk now, Ms. Black?”

“All right.” Now that she’d seen Charlie, she could deal with whatever this was. “Charlie, I’ll be right back. Are you finishing that drawing for Miss Dorothy?”

He nodded. “Yes! I promised her I’d finish before school gets out.”

“Good.”

Once in the principal’s office, Partnope sat behind his very official desk. He looked like a bureaucrat with his thinning hair, thin red mustache and conservative tie. She preferred Mr. Lamoreux, who sometimes wore loud ties and shirts that broke the mold.

“Would you please sit down?” Partnope asked.

Renee thought about standing but decided since Charlie admitted he’d hit his teacher, looming over the principal and taking out her frustration with the situation was the worst thing she could do.

“That’s an interesting T-shirt, Ms. Black.” His gaze flicked over the shirt. It featured Carol Danvers, Captain Marvel, in a red, blue and yellow costume with her energy power blazing at her hands. Hence, Princess Sparklefists.

“Thank you, it’s one of my favorites.”

“Interesting.”

“I think so.” She took a deep breath. She wouldn’t rise to the bait. “Why did Charlie hit his teacher? What happened?”

“I’m glad he admitted it. A lot of kids don’t.” Partnope laced his fingers together. “First of all, you should know that we take any assault on a teacher extremely seriously.”

She nodded. “Of course. Was the teacher hurt?”

“No, I don’t believe he was injured at all. Still, we might have to suspend Charlie.”

She took a deep breath. She wanted to protest because she was sure Charlie’s impulse control issues had caused him to overreact, but it would be far better to hear this out first.

“Could you please tell me what happened?” she asked again.

“Mr. Revis gave the students a surprise quiz today.” He paused.

She nodded but what she wanted to do was say that didn’t they know Charlie hated surprises? She’d talked to all the school officials about it, including Partnope. Teachers were supposed to give him advance warning of any quiz. “And Charlie failed this surprise quiz?”

“It wasn’t that kind of quiz,” Partnope said.

He handed over a sheet of paper that started with Read this over fully first, and included all kinds of instructions about drawing shapes and writing sentences. It was busy work but work Charlie knew how to do. It wasn’t until she reached the last sentence that she knew why Charlie thought they’d been mean to him.

“It says at the end that no one has to do any of the problems.”

“Yes. The very first instruction was to read the paper fully and the last instruction is that they don’t have to do any of the work. This is a test we give to make sure students follow instructions and read their papers fully.”

“How many students in third grade read this all the way to the end?”

Partnope’s eyes narrowed. “Only two.”

“And after Charlie did all the work and got to the last sentence and realized he didn’t really have to do any of it, he lost his temper?”

“Exactly.” Partnope nodded. “He rushed to the front of the class, screamed at Mr. Revis for tricking him, kicked him in the leg and ran out of the room.”

Renee rubbed the bridge of her nose. Of course, Charlie would see this as being tricked and react. The whole quiz was a trick. Still, he shouldn’t hit anyone. But his reaction was entirely predictable and could have been avoided by letting him know beforehand.

“What happened after he ran out of the room?” she asked.

It was Partnope’s turn to take a deep breath. He cleaned off his glasses. “Charlie ran out of the school, toward the road.”

“Toward the road?” The elementary school was located on one of the town’s busiest streets.

“He was out the door before anyone could catch him. We did get to him before the road.”

“How did you get Charlie inside?” she asked, hearing the hoarseness in her voice.

“Dorothy called to him. He slowed down. Then she asked him to come back and sit next to her for a while.”

Dorothy. She had no way to repay the woman for this. “And he did?”

“Yes, he listened to her. And then she asked him for a drawing because she knows he likes to draw. Once your son was settled, we called you. Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“I understand your concern.” She tucked her hands into her lap, having no idea what to say. She was frustrated at the school for a situation that could have been avoided, worried about Charlie for running outside and just completely sick to her stomach because she had no idea how to stop it from happening again.

As bad as it had been at school so far, she’d thought he was at least physically safe there.

“I’m so glad Dorothy was able to reach him, and I understand why you wanted me to come so fast. What now?”

“As I said, assaulting a teacher is a serious offense, as is running out of the school. Neither of those things should happen. I’ll have to talk to everyone involved and make a decision,” Partnope said.

Plunge in, she thought. “Isn’t Charlie’s autism a consideration? If anyone had checked with me about this assignment—” she held the quiz in front of her, “—I could have absolutely told them he’d have a bad reaction. Or they could have looked in his IEP.”

“Charlie has some control over his reactions or he wouldn’t have stopped for Dorothy. He is quite willful. He’s responsible.”

“I understand what he did. I’m just looking for the best way to prevent it from happening again.” Renee ground her teeth. Again, she got the feeling Partnope thought all her son needed was discipline. Renee knew discipline. She’d trained her SAR dogs for years. Charlie’s problems were beyond simple discipline. He lacked the ability to think before acting under stress.

“My son and Dorothy have built up trust over the four years he’s attended school. She notices the little things and knows how to get to him.” Dorothy could have told them not to give Charlie this unnecessary and ridiculous quiz.

“Charlie’s going to have to learn to respect his current teacher. What does his father say about all this?”

“I really don’t feel comfortable speaking for his father.” Partnope wasn’t the only obstacle. Daz was resistant to the idea of full psychological testing too.

Daz only had Charlie two weekends a month, sometimes less if Daz was pulled away by work. That included last month. As a result, Daz hadn’t seen Charlie’s worst meltdowns. Daz thought she worried too much. He didn’t get all the phone calls from the school.

“In a case like this, we do like to get the opinion of both parents, whenever possible,” Partnope said.

“Absolutely, which is why I’ll discuss today’s incident with Mr. Montoya.” But she needed to have the conversation with Daz, not the school. Maybe she was paranoid but it sounded like they wanted to go over her head, which meant they didn’t trust her with Charlie. Maybe that was why they kept stalling despite her repeated requests for full psychological testing for special education services.

All she wanted was for Charlie to get the help he clearly needed.

“Would Charlie’s father oppose a suspension?” Partnope said.

The question shredded the last of her self-control.

“All this talk of a suspension is beside the point,” she snapped. “If I thought suspending Charlie would ensure that this situation would never happen again, I’d be all for it. But I can’t say that and neither can you.”

If punishment worked with Charlie, she’d be all in with this approach. But it didn’t.

“I want a full psychological testing for Charlie, as I’ve asked at least six times these last two months. I want to have him classified as special education/autism, and I want an aide who can notice when Charlie is getting agitated so they can teach him to calm down at school before he goes overboard like today.”

Partnope but his hands on his desk and stood. “I’ll consider that.”

“You’ve had two months to consider it.” Renee stood too. “If you keep stalling, I will appeal to the Superintendent of Schools.” She’d been tracking all these incidents with Charlie, putting together a case. She knew her legal rights. What she’d been hoping was that Charlie would somehow magically improve or that Partnope would start taking Charlie’s diagnosis seriously. Legal action was a last resort.

“That is your right, of course.” Partnope gave a quick nod. “But you must explain to your son what behavior is expected in this school. He needs to take all the rules seriously, as do you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to settle some things before the school lets out.”

He left the room before Renee could say anything else.

Renee ran her hands through her hair and composed herself in the hallway before going back out into the outer office. Something must have still shown on her face, or maybe it was her demeanor that gave her away because Dorothy called to her.

“He’s going to be okay, Ms. Black,” Dorothy said.

“Thanks. I hope so.”

Renee glanced over at the conference room to make sure Charlie was still happily drawing, then walked closer to Dorothy.

“Have you asked for full testing for Charlie?” Dorothy asked.

“Constantly over the last two months. I keep getting put off. Charlie needs an aide to watch over him.”

Dorothy patted her arm. “The school just doesn’t want the expense of an aide. Keep pushing. You’re right.”

Renee smiled. “Thank you for that and for what you did earlier for him.”

The older woman shrugged. “Part of the job. Charlie’s drawing is enough payment for me.”

Charlie ran out of the conference room and presented his drawing, which featured Thor the German Shepherd and Thor the superhero together. Dorothy thanked Charlie profusely and pinned it to the corkboard in the main office.

Charlie beamed.

He was such a great kid. She had to find a way to help him.

What did she do from here? Keep Charlie out of school? Homeschool him? What was the best way to treat this?

She put her hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

“Ready to go? We need to get home before we get caught in the storm.”

Renee’s hand-knit scarf rippled in the wind as she wrestled the last patio chair toward the open garage. The sky overhead had already turned from bright blue to a foreboding shade of gray. The colorful fall was now more like a moving, shifting Ansel Adams photograph.

Charlie trailed behind her, but she kept watch on him all the same, especially since he was particularly afraid of storms. She didn’t want him panicking inside while she was busy outside.

“Almost done,” she said.

“Can I help?” Snowflakes dotted his dark hat and he looked so sweet in that instant that she wished she could bottle it. He was a great kid. There had to be a way to help him cope. There had to be.

“Nah, I’m good. Just keep me company and remind me next time not to buy such heavy patio chairs.” She’d bought them so the winds wouldn’t knock them around. She’d forgotten about the part where she needed to drag them inside for the winter.

She glanced at the huge oak trees that dotted the borders of her yard. Their branches were still laden with leaves, making them vulnerable to the weight of the falling snow.

Charlie tugged at her sleeve. “When will it be time for hot chocolate?”

“Right about now, soon as we get the chair set and go inside.”

“Great.”

Thor and Loki barked from the inside of the house. They didn’t like her being out without them. Silly boys. Too cold for them to romp outside now. The temperature must have dropped twenty degrees in the last two hours.

She turned the corner and slid the chair into her garage. There. Done. Nothing left now but hunker down and hope for the best.

Her son tapped her hip and pointed. “Mom! Look! The cat’s back! I have to get him!”

Not that stray cat again. “He’ll be fine. Cats can survive storms.”

“But he says I have to come get him. He wants my help.”

The problems at school were bad enough. She’d hoped this insistence on talking to animals was just a phase. Could he really be hearing voices?

“I’ll walk over there to see how he is. You stay here,” she said.

“No, he said I have to come!”

Renee reached out to grab Charlie’s sleeve, anticipating what was coming, but he was too fast for her and she missed. He took off at full speed across the lawn, toward the trees and the edge of the forest. She sped after him, yelling at him to stop but he ignored her. She ran full out, the cold air stinging her lungs.

Just before she caught up to Charlie, her feet slipped on the wet leaves. She stumbled, went down to one knee and saw him plunge into the woods, helpless to stop him.

“Wait!” she yelled again but the only response was the sound of leaves crunching far ahead. She scrambled to her feet.

Oh, God, oh God. There was a nasty drop-off only about ninety yards into the trees. Visions of Charlie going over the edge had her stomach in knots. She might have thrown up if she wasn’t so busy running after him. Here she’d been pissed at the school for letting him out of their sight and she’d made the same damn mistake.

She leapt over a bush and hit the brambles at a run. Branches swatted her face and prickers grabbed at her pants. The snow fell harder and faster. The trees seemed to all meld together, obscuring visibility. She couldn’t see Charlie at all, and she wasn’t sure she heard him anymore either. She wanted to rage, to slam against the nearest tree in frustration.

But panicking would be the absolutely wrong thing to do. She halted.

“Charlie!”

Her throat was so closed up in fear that her yell came out as a whisper. She drew a deep breath and tried again. This time, his name came out as a scream.

Still no answer.

Everything she’d learned in her search-and-rescue work told her panicking would get her nowhere. Yeah, that training worked awesomely when it wasn’t her own kid. She cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed his name again. Answer me!

Silence. Where could he have gone so fast? She had visions of him going over that edge and hitting the bottom hard. She blinked away tears.

“Mom! Help!”

Oh, God. That came from the direction of the drop-off.

“Coming, Charlie!” She tried not to run because she couldn’t see more than two feet in front of her, but the fear in her son’s voice drove her.

“Mom, I’m gonna fall!”

“I’m right here!”

Her lead foot pushed against empty air. She grabbed the nearest branch before she went over the edge, only just halting her fall.

“Charlie!” Where was he? She dropped to her knees to peer over the edge, trying to see through all the fat, wet snowflakes. This was the only place he could be. But where? All the way to the bottom? No, no. Dammit…

“Mom!”

The voice came from directly below, and she finally spotted him. He smiled, but she fought not to collapse in terror. The only thing keeping him from plunging to the bottom was that he was hanging on to the exposed roots of a white birch tree that was growing half sideways out of the cliff.

After the birch tree, it was a thirty-foot drop.

She swallowed to get some saliva into her dry mouth. “Don’t let go, Charlie! I’m coming for you.” Shit, how was she going to reach him before he fell?

“I’m slipping!”

“You can hold on! I know you can!”

He was only about six feet away. Too far for her to reach but there had to be some way to get him. Maybe a stray branch she could lower to him? She looked around but couldn’t see anything in the snow. She would have to go over herself and hope she didn’t fall but, dammit, if she did fall, Charlie would still be stuck. The footing was hazardous, even in the best of conditions, and this was the worst of conditions, with those wet leaves.

The wind whipped her scarf. Right. Her scarf! “I’m coming after you right now, Charlie!” She unwrapped the scarf from her neck, knotted one edge around the tree trunk closest to her, and tied the other end around her wrist.

“Ma!” His voice sounded weaker.

“Just one sec!”

Hold on, kid. Don’t let go. Never let go.

She heard his boot scrape against the dirt and leaves, desperately trying to find a foothold. “My shoulders hurt!”

“I’m only a few feet away!”

She nearly leapt over the edge. Her boots skidded on the snowy leaves. The scarf went taut, righting her, and she half slid, half fell the few feet over to Charlie. She grabbed his coat just as one of his hands let go. He screamed until he realized she had him.

“I’ve got you!” His weight pulled at her arm, up to her shoulder, but she wasn’t as worried about that as about the scarf ripping apart from their combined weight.

“I’m going to pull you up against the tree,” she told him.

His gloved hands surrounded her wrist in a death grip. “O-kay.” His teeth chattered, whether from fear or cold, she didn’t know. His dark hat was caked in snow.

She curled her fingers tight in his coat collar, praying all the buttons and zippers held. The yarn of her scarf creaked and strained.

“Move with me. One, two, three…”

She yanked hard, shifting him up and sideways, and his boots banged against the tree and gained a foothold. He grabbed the tree trunk and scrambled up against it. “That’s better!” he yelled.

Damn right it was. Almost there. “Put your back against the trunk so you don’t slip again.” She tried to keep her voice even. This was all still very tricky.

She yanked again, a little to the left, guiding him, and he settled against the trunk, secure. Whew. She closed her eyes for a quick second and let out a deep breath. Despite the cold, she was drenched in sweat.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.”

She clambered over to him, so that her own feet were braced against the tree too. The scarf went slack and that awful pull against her shoulder lessened. That was gonna be sore tomorrow. Assuming they got out of here. One thing she knew, she would never, ever complain about how long her sister made the scarves again.

“Now what?” he asked, his teeth chattering. He hugged himself.

“Now we get out of here. Give me a second to catch my breath.”

Now what? was a damn good question. Going over the edge had obviously been easy, but getting back up presented a much bigger issue.

If she’d stopped to grab a rope from the garage, they could have tied that off and used it, but it all happened so fast and she’d been so sure she could catch Charlie before she needed a rope.

Besides, if she’d gone back for a rope, Charlie might have fallen before she got to him. Stop beating yourself up, Renee, she thought, and start thinking of ways to solve the problem.

If Charlie stood on her shoulders, he might be able reach the top of the cliff. And between her pushing him and his holding on to the scarf like a rope, he could scramble to safety. Yes, she’d try that. If it didn’t work, if he lost his grip on the scarf or he slid back, she could catch him. It might leave her stuck but Charlie would be safe. One problem at a time.

She hugged Charlie tight and kissed his cheek. “I have an idea on how to get back up.”

“How? I can’t climb!” his voice broke.

Hold it together, Charlie. If he had one of his meltdowns out here, they were both dead.

“You won’t have to climb. I’ll boost you up. Plus, you get to go first. It’ll be fun. Think of it like Batman helping Robin climb a wall.”

“You’re not Batman,” he said.

“Captain Marvel, then, like my T-shirt,” she said. “She’ll help you fly.”

“I like Captain Marvel. She punches dinosaurs.”

She explained the plan to him. His face scrunched up in fear.

“You can do it. I know you can. Being afraid is okay. But sometimes you have to work past it. You can work past it.”

“Okay.” His voice was muffled against her coat.

“Besides, we’ll be doing it together. Remember what Captain Marvel says?”

He nodded firmly. “Higher, further, faster, more!” And, now, he smiled.

Not for the first time, she thanked God Charlie shared her love of superheroes. “And then we’ll get hot chocolate.”

“Great.”

Yes, he was fully on board and willing to try. She tightened her grip on the scarf and wrapped it one more time around her wrist so it would have some tension. Her shoulder, already sore, felt as if her arm was being pulled from the socket. But this wouldn’t take long.

She put her arm around Charlie’s waist and helped him crawl over her back. Calm, she thought. Piece of cake. She’d done rescues like this before. They’d always turned out well. It was going to be fine.

Don’t think about the fact that one slip and they would both go tumbling over thirty feet to the jagged rocks at the bottom.

Charlie knelt on her shoulders. “Stand up,” she ordered.

He did, though he held on to one of her hands to steady himself. Step one, accomplished. Just a few feet higher and he’d be able to grab one of the tree branches overlooking the edge of the cliff. All he’d need after that was one big shove and he’d be safe.

She moved her hand to his bum and pushed up. “Steady.”

“Okay.”

He was heavier than she remembered. This would have been easier before his growth spurt. Ack.

“I’m almost there.”

He sounded happy, almost exhilarated. Great. “I knew you could do it.”

“I got it!” His hands firmly curled around the lowest branch of a tree.

Yes! “Awesome. Now pull yourself over and I’ll be right behind you.” She hoped. It was only a few feet. Maybe she could make a leap for it with the scarf as her safety rope.

Wood cracked overhead.

“Ma!”

“Steady! Get up there! Don’t worry!”

She craned her neck to see what tree or branch was threatening to topple over. Just one more second, she pleaded to the storm. Let her son have one more second.

Charlie was halfway to solid ground now. “Just about there,” she called to him.

A louder crack. Wood splintered somewhere above them. Bits of bark rained down on her face. She ducked her head to avoid getting them in her eyes.

The falling tree slammed into the branch Charlie was hanging on to. It gave way. Charlie screamed. She screamed. Her scarf went slack. Her son fell. Oh, shit. She lunged sideways for Charlie and snagged his coat collar again by the merest of inches.

“Gotcha!” she yelled.

Breathing heavily, she hauled him back to her and the relative safety of the sideways birch tree. She lost her footing, fell back against the trunk hard and Charlie slammed into her. Pain fired through her shoulder and back. It didn’t matter. Charlie was crying and his sobs nearly ripped out her heart. She wrapped her arms tight around her son.

“It’s okay. I got you,” she wheezed out. Safe. He was still safe.

“I hate heights!”

“I know, I know. Easy, Charlie. I’ve got you. Mom’s here.”

Out of sight, more wood crashed against wood with a horrible, solid thud. Snow and leaves rained down on them. Something big whooshed by them, too fast for her to even be scared of it.

The tension in her scarf went slack.

A loud crash echoed from below as the tree hit the ground.

“Holy shit,” Charlie said.

“Careful with the swear words, kid.” She uttered the rebuke automatically. As if she should care he was swearing. That was the least of their problems.

The leaves stopped falling. No more thuds. She took several deep breaths, trying to find some measure of calm.

“You okay?” she asked Charlie.

“Scared.” His teeth chattered. “I didn’t go higher. I’m sorry.”

“You went plenty high. Not your fault the tree didn’t cooperate.”

Her back set against the tree, she wondered how long before their perch gave way from the weight of the snow collecting on its leaves. Seconds, minutes, hours? She really did need Captain Marvel right now. Damn.

She swatted around the flakes that had gathered on her face and eyelashes and tried to stare up into the storm. She caught a glimpse of her scarf, hanging from what was left of the tree branch. She glanced down at her wrist. It was still attached. It must have ripped apart.

“Ma, the kitty’s here,” Charlie said.

“What?”

“Look!” He pointed and she heard a meow above them.

I could kill you, cat, she thought.

The cat meowed again.

“He’s worried about me,” Charlie said.

The cat did sound scared. Join the club, furball.

“He says he could have gone to a warm spot, but he likes me. He says I need a cuddle.”

To her disbelieving eyes, the cat picked his way down the slope, through the branches, leaves and snow, and jumped onto Charlie’s chest.

Oh, great, she thought. Now I’m not just trapped out here in the storm with my son, now I have to deal with a stray cat on top of us. Wonder of wonders, the cat started purring and settled down against Charlie.

“I guess he does like you,” Renee said. “But be careful and don’t move around too much.”

“He’ll be calm. He likes me, likes me better than other people he knows.”

“He sure seems to like you.” The cat was distracting Charlie from their situation, so that was good, so long as it didn’t scratch or claw at them.

“Ma? We’re stuck, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we’re stuck. For now. But I’m catching my breath and then we’ll try something else.”

“You’ll get us out. I know you will. Even if he says you can’t.”

“Who says I can’t?”

“Odin. The cat.”

Great. She was being doubted by a cat. Not just a cat, the cat who’d caused this problem in the first place. No, wait. Charlie was probably the one who was scared and doubting her and pretending it was the cat.

“I’ve done harder rescues than this. I’ll find a way to get us out.”

She looked down at Charlie and he looked up at her. His eyes were wide and trusting and, for an instant, so like his father’s that it took her breath away.

“Okay.” Charlie nodded and went back to petting the cat.

First, assess the situation, Renee decided. Visibility was poor, near whiteout conditions. There was no chance anyone would stumble over them, not in this. That meant they had to either get out themselves or somehow send for help.

Second, assess how long they could last out here. They were both dressed warmly so they had maybe a few hours before exposure became a problem. She suspected, however, that the storm would last far longer than that.

No, what they needed was help and fast. She searched in her pocket for her cell phone and came up empty. She must have put the phone on the counter before going out for the patio furniture. Fuck, fuck.

She closed her eyes to regain calm. If she lost it, so would Charlie.

“How’s the cat?”

“Getting a little cold.”

He’s not the only one. She tapped Charlie’s shoulder. “Since he’s so calm, see if he’ll tuck inside your coat and then zip it back up. Shared body heat will keep both of you warmer.”

“Good idea. Thanks, Mom!”

“But only if you’re sure he won’t scratch you.”

“Nah, he wants to do it. He says it’s a good idea.”

Nice to have your approval, cat.

While Charlie fiddled with his zipper and the cat, she took off her gloves with her teeth, not wanting to lose her hold on her son. With no people around, she’d have to rely on the dogs.

Fingers trembling, she dug out the dog whistle from under her coat and blew it three quick times, a sound that was too high-pitched for any human to hear. Thor and Loki would hear the whistle, rush through the dog door and come to her. Once they were here, she might be able to shove Charlie close enough to them that one of the dogs could grab him with their teeth. Or the dogs might be able to throw her down a branch. And maybe she’d left out rope. They knew enough to retrieve it for her.

If not, she could send one for help, probably Loki, who was marginally faster and less arthritic.

That was assuming, of course, if anyone else was stupid enough to be out in this freakin’ blizzard.