the windshield； praying for a plow。 With each passing mile； she drove
more slowly through accumulating depths。
When her pace was down to fifteen miles an hour； and she couldn't see
more than a single car's length ahead； she felt a wave of panic。 The
sense of isolation was utter and intense。 Fighting a sudden dizziness；
she kept her foot on the gas。
Dusk had fallen by the time she reached the cottage cutoff。 She was so
relieved to see it； that she took the turn a hair too fast。 The car
skidded and fishtailed before ing to an abrupt halt several yards
into the private way； lodged firmly in a snow bank at the side of the
road。
Swearing under her breath； Anne worked the gear shift； alternating
between forward and reverse in an attempt to free the car from the
drift。 Her nerves were already taut。 Now she cursed her luck as she
fumbled with the door handle； tripped out of the car； and promptly sank
in snow nearly as high as her boots。 Even through rose…colored glasses；
hopes for the car were low。
She peered up the hill in the direction of the house。 In ideal weather；
the walk was a mile's mild uphill challenge。 But in this blizzard？ And
then there was the possibility that Mitch was stuck somewhere； too。 But
he was the one with the key。
She sneezed and raised a parka…covered arm to her face。 If the door was
locked； she would just