The Storm

They are calling for another snowstorm to hit today. It’s not supposed to start until later tonight. I should still have plenty of time to see Walter and make it back to the hospital before it starts.

I had some appointments earlier today, so I wasn’t able to make it out in the morning like I normally do.

It is early afternoon when I get there. The mountain road was in much better shape than I thought it would be, and the drive was absolutely breathtaking.

The evergreen branches were heavy with snow. It looked like a winter wonderland.

“Oh dear, you could’ve stayed home. We would’ve managed without you,” Mary scolds me as soon as I walk in.

“I know, but I had to come and check on my favorite patient.”

Walter is sitting in his chair. He points to the checkerboard in front of him. “I hope you’re ready for a rematch, I haven’t forgotten that you beat me last time.”

“Of course I am.” I slip off my wet shoes and sit across from him. We talk about how he is feeling, their family, and the weather. Before I realize it, it is nearly five.

Mary helps me get him back into bed. She looks out the window. “Oh my.”

It’s snowing. “I thought they said that it wasn’t to start until later tonight?”

Walter chuckles. “Weathermen just guess anyway.”

“I guess they were wrong this time.”

It takes me an hour on a good day to get back into the city from their house and my shift starts at seven.

“My dear, why don’t you just stay here for the night? You shouldn’t be driving in this.” Mary’s voice is full of concern.

“Thank you, but I’m due at the hospital in a couple hours.” I slip my shoes back on.

“Please be careful and let us know when you get there.” She hands me another container of food; she spoils me and I’m going to miss it.

“I will, I promise,” I assure her before I leave.

It doesn’t take me long before I am cursing myself for not leaving earlier. I should’ve gone this morning, then I wouldn’t be in this mess. I should’ve just stayed like Mary offered and called out for work tonight.

I did call to say I might be late. I desperately want a hot shower before my shift. As I grip the steering wheel tighter, I curse myself for being an idiot.

My wipers are on high and I can barely see; it’s snowing that hard and the road is already covered, keeping my speed slow. I left well over an hour ago and it doesn’t feel like I’ve made it all that far.

I know I’m going to be late—my shift starts in less than an hour and I’m not even halfway there yet. A curve in the road is coming up; I slow down even more and start turning early.

Before I know it, I’m spinning around in a circle. I try to steer out of it but it’s no use. I’m spinning faster and faster. The only thing I can do is hang on and pray.

Suddenly I see tree tops and feel the car rolling over. I know I’ve gone down one of the embankments. My head hits the window and that’s the last thing I remember.

Opening my eyes, I look around, grabbing my head and cursing at my sudden movement. I don’t know where I am—a big, soft bed, and in a shirt that I don’t recognize. Is this a man's shirt?

My eyes find a window. It’s dark outside, but I can see it’s still snowing. Must be late, how long was I out?

Slowly I get up and look around. The door is open so I peek out. Nobody is there. I see another open door and hope that it’s the bathroom, and quickly I run over. It is. Locking the door behind me, I relieve myself.

I have absolutely no clue where I am or who else is here. As I’m washing my hands, the baby kicks. “I’m glad you’re all right, little one, but where are we?” I say, rubbing my stomach.

Cautiously, I decide to explore and see if I can find anyone. Hopefully, my car is here as well and I can get back on the road. I walk out of the bathroom and quietly go down the hall.

I see a dog laying on the floor and a man’s back; he’s at the stove. The dog stands up, barks once, and lays back down, alerting the man to my presence.

He’s slightly taller than me, short brown hair, and a body…wow, what a body. I can see the muscles across his back, as he has no shirt on.

He turns around and the muscles continue’ he doesn’t have a washboard stomach, but he’s not fat by any means.

“You’re up, how are you feeling?” he asks, spatula in hand.

I tug at the bottom of my shirt. “Where am I, what happened, and who are you?” The questions just fly out of my mouth.

He turns the stove off and steps up to me, not in a threatening way. “You wrecked your car. My name is Adam and this is my house.” He points to my stomach. “How is the little one?”

Surprisingly I don’t feel threatened by or scared of this man. Something about him makes me feel safe.

“Good, been moving around a lot.” I cradle my stomach and look out the window. “How did you find me?” I’ve never noticed any other houses out here before.

“Radar led me to you.” He leans down and pats the dog’s head as he gives him a bowl of food. “I was bringing in firewood when he started barking and took off toward your car.”

He hands me a cup of hot tea and motions for me to sit down at the table. “What are you doing out in this weather anyway?”