Chapter Seven

She was asleep when he got out. She must be exhausted, he thought, tenderly tucking the blankets around her just a little more snugly, wishing he had the freedom to carry her to his bed and settle her in next to him. Just hold her all night. Wake up next to a pair of golden-brown eyes instead of Kim's cold, blue ones. Maybe even steal a good morning kiss. Instead, he banked the fire he had started in the fireplace and got into his own bed that seemed far too solitary and far too big for just one person. Woody shivered as he pulled his own blankets around him. It was cold…even by mountain standards for April. He glanced at Jordan. He hoped she would be warm enough.

He woke the next morning to the light glaring in the window and beating down in his eyes. For a second he thought he had overslept – it was so bright outside. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that wasn't the case. It was only six. Their flight didn't leave until ten. Groggily, he got up and made his way over to the window to shut the curtains and try to gain them both a few more minutes rest. But what he saw out the window brought only one exclamation to his mouth.

"Oh. God. No."

His voice woke Jordan, who grabbed her robe and joined him at the window. She took a deep breath and said, "Shit."

There was at least three feet of snow on the ground. Their tiny rental car had snow up past its tires. Everything was frozen solid underneath the white, fluffy stuff. There was no way they were going to get out today. The road up to the cabin was narrow and winding. Even if a truck could get to them, and that was a big if, it would be too treacherous to try to make the trek back down the mountain. He looked at Jordan wordlessly. She was nearly glaring at him. "Don't blame me. I swear I had nothing to do with this," he told her. "The weatherman said nothing about snow yesterday."

"Call the chief…find out if there's anything they can do. I need to get back to work…and John's expecting me this afternoon."

Woody swallowed hard and dialed the chief's number on his cell phone while Jordan was trying to contact Garret. After a few brief words with the chief, he turned back to Jordan. "The chief says there's food, beer, and drinks in the 'fridge, and a truck may be able to get up here the day after tomorrow. This snow's caught everyone by surprise and they weren't ready for it this late in the year."

Jordan nodded. Garret had told her not to worry about it, just get home as quickly as she safely could. Her call to John had been a little more dicey. John wasn't happy with the situation, but knew Jordan had no control over it. Woody overheard him telling Jordan to be careful…and watch herself. What does he think I'm going to do? Jump her? He thought.

"So now what do we do?" he finally asked her.

"I'm getting dressed," she replied, grabbing some clothes out of her suitcase. A few minutes later she emerged from the bathroom and Woody took her place. When he came out, he found her studying the skiing brochures someone had left on a table in the living area.

"New hobby?" he asked.

"No… just something to do to pass the time."

"What time is it?"

"Nearly nine."

"Too early for a beer."

She gave him a regretful look. "Yeah."

"We could talk about the case…work on it."

She eagerly nodded. It would be something to do to make the time go faster. They spread out the files…the papers…the pictures… and swapped theories and ideas for several hours. It was a good way to reconnect…a neutral one. Woody watched her face as her carefully crafted frosty attitude toward him slipped away. Finally, he checked his watch one more time. "Noon. What about that beer?"

"Now we can have one." She got up and went to the refrigerator, pulled out two of the beverages, and brought them back to the living room. "Cheers," she said, lightly tapping her bottle to his."

He smiled back at her. "This is enough for one day," indicating all the work they had spread out. "Or at least for right now. Maybe later. Let's let our brains to rest." He gathered the information up and placed it on the table with the ski brochures. They finished their beers in silence, both sitting on the floor. But the tense atmosphere between them was gone. For that Woody was thankful.

"So now what?" Jordan asked. "Any more cases in that duffle bag of yours?"

"Nope. Not a one. What about yours?'

"Me, either," she blew out a sigh. "I suppose we could play Twenty Questions."

"Nah. We've done that before with each other. I think we should play something else," he said, giving her a mischievous grin.

"Okay, I'll bite detective…what do you have in mind."

"Truth or Dare."

"We don't have any whiskey and I don't want to drink all our beer at once if we're going to be here more than a day or two."

"Don't have to. We'll do it like we used to do in high school."

"I used whiskey in high school, Woody."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me. We'll do it the way I used to do it in high school."

"How'd you do it in Wisconsin?"

"I'll ask you a question. You can either give up the truth….or accept a dare. And no cheating. You have to follow through with the dare. Then you ask me a question and I have to do the same thing."

Jordan gave him a dubious look. For a minute, Woody thought she was going to turn him down flat. Then he said those three words Jordan had never been able to back away from: "I dare you."

"You're on Farm Boy. Got a quarter we can toss to see who goes first?"