Michelle Karl - Christmas Under Fire

If what had happened hadn’t been so serious, she might have actually laughed in that moment. The man was so sincere and so concerned she almost hated to burst his bubble. “On behalf of, uh...myself, I accept your apology, and remind you that I’m nobody special. I don’t need the nation of Canada’s apology, nice as that is. I’m literally no one of importance, even in my own country— especially in my own country, so I’m honestly still a little baffled as to why I’m receiving a personal escort at all.”

Not that she was complaining. She was very glad he’d arrived when he did, and he cut a heroic, imposing figure in the shadowy light. She had a feeling that once they had better lighting, she might feel the same way about the rest of his features.

And then she immediately felt guilty for thinking like that at all.

Esai had been gone all of eighteen months. That was it, and yet some days it seemed as though she’d been alone for as long as she could remember. The car accident that had taken his life had happened so suddenly and so unexpectedly that some days the lack of closure brought tears to her eyes without warning. Other days, she accepted the events as God’s will. It was hard to balance the two, especially when the rest of her family continued to pelt her with their theories over what had happened in the accident, their opinions on Esai, and worst of all, their patronizing advice regarding Cally’s love life now that she was “free” of him. In the past six months alone, she’d been the victim of no less than two “accidental” blind dates and three “good-natured” interventions. Why couldn’t everyone just leave her be and accept that people processed grief in different ways and at their own pace?

When, and if , she was ready to love again, she’d know. And not a moment sooner.

Officer Thrace cleared his throat as he pulled the patrol car onto the road, and she tried to focus on the scenery outside the car window as he called in the incident. Thick flakes of soft snow fluttered past the glass and collected on the ground beside them as they drove.

He chuckled a few minutes later. “First time seeing snow?”

Heat rose to her cheeks. “No, but it’s been a very, very long time. Why do you ask?”

“There’s wonder in your eyes. That twinkle is almost as bright as the snowflakes outside. Just wait until the snow accumulates even higher over the next few days—you’ll get the real northern Canadian experience. Might even get to see some snowmen in the yards if it’s the right kind of fresh snow, or join in on a snowball fight at one of the community events coming up.”

“There are different kinds of snow?”

He grinned, putting her at ease. “Just you wait. And for the record, it’s not that it’s necessarily about who you are that you’re getting a personal escort, more about where you’re from and where you’ve chosen to visit. Since you do have that Amar royal family connection on all your official documentation, plus this is a rather remote area and our countries have recently ratified a stronger trade agreement, the RCMP thought it would be wise to give you some, uh...”

His voice trailed off, but she had a feeling she knew what he’d been about to say. “Special treatment?”

“Well, yes.”

“That’s very kind. But not necessary.” The window began to fog up next to her, and she rubbed it with her glove. “Though in retrospect, I do appreciate that you were scheduled to come to the airport. I’m scared to think what might have happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

He smiled at her through the rearview mirror. “I’d say that’s God’s timing, Ms. Roslin.”

“Cally,” she said. “Please just call me Cally. I’m here to get away from being Ms. Roslin for a little while, if you don’t mind.”

The conversation stalled as they drove, the snow falling thicker and faster on the dark road. Cally wondered how Officer Thrace could see anything as he navigated the route—the way the snow came at them, it looked like they were entering warp drive in a spaceship, like in one of those sci-fi movies Esai had loved so much. Her throat tightened at the thought.

“How far is it to Fort Mason?” she asked to distract herself.

“During the day and good weather, about thirty minutes. Right now, with the snow coming down the way it is...maybe another forty-five or so, hopefully less. RCMP patrol cars have high-quality snow tires on them. That sound you hear while we’re driving? Those are the chains the detachment has put on around this time of year so we can make it through big storms and deep ice freezes without too much trouble.”

Snow tires? Chains? Cally wondered what she’d gotten herself into. On the other hand, she’d wanted to get away from her old life. So what better way than to dive into a completely opposite climate, too?

The quiet in the car, save for the occasional chatter over the police radio, seemed to stretch thin. She didn’t want to interrupt the man while he drove, but at the same time, she still felt jumpy from the attack at the airport and didn’t want to dwell too deeply on those thoughts.

“Have you been in law enforcement for a long time, Officer Thrace?”

When he answered, she heard the smile in his voice. “If I’m to call you Cally, you might as well call me Aaron while we’re in conversation. Fair?”

“Fair.”

“And yes, I have. My father was in the RCMP and I followed his footsteps. I was part of the Musical Ride in Ottawa for a while—it’s better if I show you what that is rather than explain it, but it’s essentially a part ceremonial, part entertainment event where the participating Mounties dress up in our traditional reds and ride horses in formation. It’s much more impressive than I’m making it sound, I assure you.”

“It sounds lovely, and I’d be happy to learn more. I love horses, but I’m not much of a rider.” She’d taken lessons as a child, but hadn’t been on a horse more than once or twice since then. Before she could ask what kind of horses the RCMP used, the car slipped sideways with a sudden lurch. She gasped in alarm, but Aaron appeared to be unfazed. “Is this kind of weather normal?”

“Every winter,” he said. “Some days—some years —it’s worse than others, but the visibility isn’t always this low. And these tires should help to keep us steady—they help grip the road if I need to correct quickly like that. The real danger is potentially not seeing other vehicles as they approach, especially when the space in the lanes is reduced and, like you can probably see outside your window, it’s almost impossible to see the center line.”

Potentially not seeing someone, like the man in the airport...who could be coming after me right now.

Cally tried to shove the thought away. It was irrational to think anyone was after her, especially after Officer Thrace—no, Aaron—had mentioned the area’s issues with theft. Still, she couldn’t help glancing out the rear window, searching for the glow of headlights or a shadowy movement on the road. How had the culprit gotten away? He’d run into the forest. Had there been a getaway car waiting? Surely he hadn’t just hoofed it through the snow until reaching his destination.

“When the center lane is obscured, it can be a real challenge to stay positioned on the correct side of the road,” Aaron continued, “though in rarer cases—”

She turned back around in her seat—and screamed as a massive black shape suddenly materialized in the road ahead of them.

Aaron shouted and swerved, yanking on the steering wheel so hard that the car slid and spun, the tail end careening sideways. When he tried to correct, the chains gripped hard and the car counterbalanced too far. The car pitched into the ditch, rolled forward and slammed into a tree with a jarring thump.