Colorado Christmas Survival
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Cate Nolan
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18,7K
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21
A relentless pursuit through the mountains — as a dangerous snowstorm races in… When armed gunmen descend on Hope Prescott's office a few days before Christmas, she and her young daughter flee — straight into the harsh Colorado mountains. With no idea why they're being targeted, Hope relies on the help of rancher and veteran Ian Fraser to protect them from the assailants and the deadly blizzard blowing in. Somehow, Hope and Ian must determine what has put her in the killers' crosshairs. But can they take down the criminals before the next attack proves fatal?
ONE
“Knock, knock.”
Hope Prescott looked up from her computer, smiled and called to her daughter, who was curled up on her office chair, face buried in a book. “Hey, Emi. Look who’s here.”
Emi kept her eyes glued to the page until Hope prompted her again. “Earth to Emi. You have a visitor.”
Emi glanced up and her whole face transformed. “Uncle Steve!” The book went flying as she leaped from the cozy corner chair.
“Hey there, sweet girl.” Steve scooped the seven-year-old blonde bookworm into his arms as if she weighed nothing. He turned to Hope. “Why are you still here? I told you to take the afternoon off.”
“And I told you I had a marketing campaign that needed finishing touches.”
“It can wait until after Christmas. Go. The rest of the gang left hours ago.”
Hope rolled her eyes. “If you make me leave, I’ll only take it home with me.”
“Not this time.” Steve pulled an envelope from his back pocket and handed it to Emi. The little girl opened the envelope and gasped.
“Christmas Village! You got us tickets?”
Hope ground her teeth and glared at her boss. He might be her best friend in the world, but he had no right getting her child’s hopes up over something impossible. “No room at the inn,” she muttered.
Steve laughed and whispered into Emi’s ear.
Hope’s heart sank at the way her daughter’s eyes lit up. She would have given anything to bring some Christmas joy into Emi’s life, but by the time her daughter had discovered the best Christmas celebration in all of Colorado, everyone else in the state had snatched up the tickets along with every room in the small mountain town.
“Uncle Steve’s friend has a ski chalet we can stay in. It’s ours for...” Emi looked at Steve, who whispered in her ear again. Her eyes grew round. “Two weeks! We get two weeks at Christmas Village!”
Hope opened her mouth to protest, but Steve shook his head. “I won’t hear another word about it. Emi deserves a special Christmas and who better to provide it than her favorite uncle?”
“Does that mean you’re coming with us?”
A shadow passed over his dear face, confirming the feeling that had been nagging at Hope lately. Steve was keeping something from her.
Whatever it was, he shrugged it off. “Not this time. You need to get going before the storm blows in. Leave the computer here. Pack up your stuff. I want you on your way in—” he glanced down at his watch “—fifteen minutes.”
There was no missing the underlying tension in his voice this time. Why was he so anxious for her to be gone? “Steve, what’s wrong?”
He gave Emi a kiss, then set her down and stepped into the doorway. “We’ll talk about it when you get back. No worries. Just go give your daughter the Christmas she needs. And if you really have to work, you can play along with Twelve Days ’til Christmas.”
Hope stared at him as he disappeared into the hallway. Playing on their social media platform was not work. Her job was getting other people to play.
As Steve’s footsteps receded down the hallway, Hope begrudgingly powered down her computer. He was right. She needed to set aside her work and focus on her daughter. Emi’s childhood had been derailed by her father’s death, and as much as Hope didn’t want to think about her deceased husband and his betrayal, she couldn’t deny the hole it had left in her daughter’s life. So, she would shirk her workaholic ways and concentrate on Emi and Christm—
A piercing alarm shattered the air, cutting off her thoughts. Her phone dinged, and she grabbed it.
Intruder Alert: Exit Code 8
Hope’s heart raced. Code 8 meant extreme danger and they were supposed to use the secret exits Steve had designed. But where was he? If they were alone in the building, she couldn’t leave without him. Except she was supposed to. That was what they’d practiced.
She dashed across the room and peered down the hall. There was no sign of Steve, but in the distance she could hear the sound of running footsteps followed by a gunshot, and then silence. She slammed the door and engaged the safety latch.
“Mommy?”
The look of terror etched on her daughter’s face galvanized Hope. Steve had been paranoid about a workplace attack. He’d made them practice escapes until the steps were drilled into their minds. She’d never expected to need to use them, but she knew what to do.
“Get our coats and backpacks.” Her heart pounding, Hope pressed the panic button under her desk, which would ring at the sheriff’s office. That was the fastest way to get help, though she hoped law enforcement had gotten the same alert she had. She shrugged on her coat, took the backpacks from Emi and grasped her hand before heading into a back passage that would open into the parking lot.
As she and Emi raced down the empty passageway, Hope’s thoughts strayed to Steve and she whispered prayers for his safety. She listened for sirens and prayed law enforcement would get here fast, but as more gunshots echoed in the hallway, terror seized her heart and she feared it wouldn’t be soon enough.
Hope punched in a special code that would deactivate the alarm on the door and eased it open. Snow was falling steadily as she poked her head out and looked around the quiet garden. All was peaceful and still back here, but her car was parked on the other side of the building—the side where all the shooting was coming from.
What should she do? She could try running away to wait for rescue, but Steve had built his tech complex in the middle of nowhere. With the storm blowing in, they risked death by exposure. She glanced down at Emi, who was huddling inside her coat—her bright pink coat. If anyone came looking for them, she’d stand out like a neon sign. Whipping off her own coat, Hope wrapped it around her daughter. She really had no choice but to try to get to her car.
“We have to be very quiet, baby,” she whispered. “We’re going to slide along the side of the building so no one looking out will see us.”
Emi nodded, but her body was trembling. Hope couldn’t tell if it was from cold or fear, but her heart broke for her baby girl. Worrying wouldn’t get them to safety though. Holding on tight to Emi’s hand, she began to sidle along the building. There were no windows on this back wall, so they were able to move quickly, but when they reached the corner, and Hope paused to take stock, she could hear voices. A shaft of light spread out from an open door.
“I don’t see anyone out here. Maybe he was telling the truth that she left.”
“Her car’s still in the lot.”
“Well, then where did she go?”
“If you hadn’t hit him so hard, maybe we could have asked him.”
Hope stifled a gasp as she listened to the argument. What had they done to Steve?
“Boss said to teach him a lesson.”
The door slammed shut, and the voices faded away as Hope glanced down at Emi. If her daughter weren’t here, she’d risk going back in to look for Steve, but her first concern had to be Emi’s safety.
This side of the building housed the company cafeteria, and the walls were floor-to-ceiling glass. They were meant to be a relaxing way of bringing the outside in, part of the natural aesthetic Steve had created for his company. Most days, Hope appreciated the chance to bask in the sun while she had her lunch, but today all that glass was a hindrance to her escape.
“We’re going to have to crawl along this wall—like inchworms,” she teased, trying to make Emi relax. “I’ll go first and you follow right behind my heels, okay?”
Emi shivered and silently fell to her knees. Hope dropped down in front of her and began to inch her way along the wall. The lunchroom had never felt as big as it did while she made slow progress through the drifts that were still piled up from last week’s storm. When they finally reached the end, Hope peered around the edge and her heart sank.
Steve’s motorcycle was parked in his spot by the front door, and an unfamiliar truck, presumably belonging to the gunman, was idling in the walkway. Her car sat alone in the lot, spotlighted by the glow of the lights.
Where was the sheriff? Why hadn’t anyone responded yet?
Another round of gunfire echoed from inside the building and terror spurred Hope onward. “We have to run as fast as you can, Emi. I’ll open the door and you jump in and get your seat belt on yourself, okay?”
Again, Emi gave a silent nod.
Hope fumbled in her pocket for her key fob. “One, two, three, run,” she whispered, and the two of them dashed across the parking lot. Fearful that the sound might be overheard, she waited until they were crouched behind the car to push the button on her fob. As soon as the car beeped and the door was unlatched, she helped Emi in and closed the door securely. If only she could assure her daughter’s safety that easily.
By the time Hope had opened the front door and settled in her own seat with the key in the ignition, she could hear shouts from the front of the building.
She quickly turned the key and shifted into gear as gunfire erupted behind her. “Stay down low, Emi,” Hope warned as she lead-footed the accelerator.
The car shot forward, tires spinning on snow that had begun to accumulate in the lot. She fishtailed as she shot around the corner, but the back tires caught and she was able to straighten out and speed down the long snowy road that led out to the highway.
“Mommy, I’m scared.”
I am, too. Hope didn’t say the words aloud, but her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel betrayed her terror as she drove up the entrance ramp to Highway 160.
The Colorado highway could be a snowy death trap, so she didn’t dare take her eyes off the road or her hands off the wheel, but she needed to reassure her daughter. “It will be okay, Emi. We trust Jesus to protect us.”
Hope smiled despite her fear as she heard Emi begin to murmur prayers. Echoing her daughter, she whispered the words beneath her breath, alternating them with “Jesus, take the wheel” as she stared through her rearview mirror into the swirling world of white—and saw headlights appear behind them.
There was a chance it was nothing, just fellow travelers in a storm. But she’d seen no other vehicles in either direction since leaving the parking lot. Anyone with sense was safe at home. She tried to focus on prayer, but fear settled in her heart.
The headlights grew brighter, and her fingers clenched the steering wheel. The truck was traveling too fast for the road conditions.
She glanced back, panicked as the vehicle behind closed the distance between them, but with road conditions deteriorating, she couldn’t go any faster. She cast another look in her mirror, and terror washed over her at the sight of a gun protruding from the passenger window. “Emi, head down!”
The back windshield exploded.
“Mommy!” Emi screamed.
Another gunshot and Hope swallowed her own scream. The truck drew closer until she felt it slam her back bumper. She pressed her accelerator to the floor, but it did no good as the truck sped up and rammed her from behind.
He was trying to drive her off the road! As she struggled for control of the car, Hope crouched over the wheel, trying to see ahead on the curving road. Her wipers couldn’t keep up with the heavy snow, but as they cleared a swath, there was no missing the blinding headlights of an approaching eighteen-wheeler.
The vehicle behind revved and shot forward. Hope prayed and swung the wheel with all her might as the hard hit sent her skidding across the highway directly into the path of the oncoming headlights.
Jesus, I trust in you. Please help us.
Ian Fraser rubbed his brow, fighting the eye fatigue that came with trying to see through driving snow. He should have stopped at the last rest stop and waited out the storm, but something had urged him to keep going. Maybe it was knowing the local veterans’ center was counting on his truckful of Christmas trees for their annual fundraiser. Maybe it was wanting to be safe at the ranch in this ferocious storm. Or maybe he was just hungry. Whatever the reason, he’d kept going, and there was no use regretting it now. He had enough regrets in his life. No need to add new ones.
Keeping one hand steady on the wheel, he stretched, trying to ease the kink in his neck, but the sudden glare of headlights ahead caught his full attention.
And gunshots. Who was foolish enough to be firing guns in this weather? They could set off an avalanche that would close down the whole highway.
Ian pumped the brakes to slow his rig, but the car in the other lane was flying toward him at an alarming speed. The driver appeared to turn, but Ian watched as the car spun helplessly out of control right into his path. He grasped the wheel tightly and swung his own rig to the left, barely missing contact with the car and the truck that had been traveling behind it.
Ian slowed his truck to a halt and quickly hopped down. There was no way that driver had been able to avoid crashing and he could only hope they’d managed to find a soft drift.
Wind whipped stinging bites of snow into his face as he trudged through the rapidly accumulating snow.
“Hello,” he called. “Anyone there?”
The gusts scattered his words, so he cupped his hands to his mouth and tried again. There was still no response, but that didn’t satisfy his concerns. If the people were injured, they might be unable to answer.
Doubling over in his fight against the wind, Ian scoured the sides of the road, looking for where the car had gone over the side. Praise the Lord, it had been here rather than farther up the pass where the mountainside dropped off beside the road.
After a few minutes of searching, he found where the car had plowed headfirst into a deep drift. The doors stood open, and two men in balaclavas were searching around the outside.
“You all right over there?” Ian called.
The men looked up, and Ian thought he must be imagining the irritation on their faces.
“Just looking to help out whoever crashed here,” one of them called back.
They seemed to confer a moment before one headed in his direction. “Looks like there was a woman and a child in the car. They must have been ejected. We’re searching down below. Can you set up flares on the road?”
“Sure thing,” Ian answered. “Did you call for help or should I?”
“My buddy called it in.”
Ian turned to get the flares from his truck, but instinct that had served him well through multiple tours in Afghanistan made him turn back just in time to ward off a blow to the back of his head. The gun glanced off his temple instead. That same instinct sent him to his knees pretending to be struck. He stilled his breathing and waited, ready to spring if the man attacked again, but he seemed to be satisfied and headed off downhill, calling to his friend to hurry.
Ian lay in the snow, waiting until he was sure the man was out of sight before he rose to his knees. His temple ached, but he knew God had been looking out for him. Another few inches and he’d be dead. What had he stumbled into?
Suddenly he wondered about the car he’d seen go off the road. Had that been an accident? Or had these men had something to do with it? And who were the missing occupants of the car?
He was all about helping people in need, but Ian was outnumbered and outgunned here. The best thing he could do was get back to his truck and make that call to highway patrol.
Not wanting to draw their attention, Ian crawled his way through the snow until he reached the side of the road. He rose cautiously, but there was no sign of the men, so he hurried across to where he’d left his truck. As he reached the cab, he noticed a piece of pink fuzz caught in the driver’s side door. He glanced back quickly to see if either of the men had followed him, but there was still no sign of them. They were too busy searching for people who, he suspected, were hiding in his truck. He pocketed the fuzz, opened the door and quickly climbed up, pulling the door shut behind him.
The moment he settled in his seat, Ian knew his suspicions were correct. The woman and child had taken refuge in his truck. He sensed their presence, and the summery scent of lavender tickled his nose in confirmation.
He started the ignition and shifted the truck into gear. “I know you’re there. Give me one good reason I should trust you over them.”
