Jennifer Greene: Snow Day: Heart of the Storm / Seeing Red / Land's End

“No, thanks.”

“Come on, Delaney. I want to talk to you. If you just give me a little consideration, I’ll—”

“I’ll give you the same consideration you gave me. How about that?”

“I did what was best for you. For both of us.”

“That’s weak, Brody. Really weak.”

Maybe it was, but it was all he had. “Delaney, seriously, can we talk?”

“No, Brody, we can’t. I have to dim the lights and start spreading the word it’s quiet time so maybe these kids will get some sleep.”

“After that, maybe we can slip out in the hall and talk?”

“There’s nothing to say. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

She left him standing there alone, feeling as if there were a whole lot of things he wanted to say to her, but the words were all stuck in his throat. No matter how straight she tried to play it, there was still pain in her eyes. He’d known her too long and too well to miss it.

The least he could do while he was stuck here was try to make that pain go away.

CHAPTER THREE

BRODY WASN’T SURE what time it was when he opened his eyes. The gym was quiet, except for the creak of cots as people tried to find comfortable positions in their sleep and an unfortunate amount of snoring. Glancing up at the row of small windows at the top of the walls, he could see it was still dark. And if he listened closely, he could hear icy precipitation still being slapped against the glass by the wind.

Now that he was awake, he had to take a leak, so he rolled out of the cot as quietly as he could and stepped out from behind the privacy screen in his socks. The polished floor was slippery, but he was afraid if he tried to get his shoes out from under his cot, he’d jostle Noah’s car seat. Since it felt as if it had only been about ten minutes since the last time the boy cried, nobody wanted that.

Movement near the set of exterior doors serving as the shelter entrance caught his eye. A woman, who thankfully wasn’t Delaney, was talking in quiet tones to a man. Across the gym, in the dim lights they had to leave on 24/7 for safety reasons, he saw it was Sandy’s husband, so he made his way over.

When the volunteer turned to point in the direction of their cots, Brody lifted his hand and waved as he approached. “Hey, Mike.”

They shook hands. “Glad you made it into town, Brody. Sorry you can’t get back out, though.”

He was, too. “Spending some quality time with the loudest baby in the history of man.”

Mike grinned. “Kid’s got a set of pipes.”

“They letting you crash for a while?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing we can do with this ice and, barring anybody trying to get here, everybody’s off the roads. We’ll sleep for a few hours, then start checking on people. Thanks for getting Sandy and Noah here, by the way.”

“It was no problem.”

“I could have driven them here, but I wouldn’t be able to stay because it’s all hands on deck. I appreciate you being here to help with the baby.”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” he lied. “We got three cots, and we’re behind that screen over there.”

Once Mike had gone to join his family, Brody made his way to the men’s room. The lights were brighter in there and, when he stepped back into the gym, he had to stop for a moment to let his vision adjust.

He found himself looking around the huge room, looking for Delaney, but all the sleeping, blanket-covered lumps looked the same. He guessed she was probably over near the entrance, so she’d wake up if somebody went in or out, but he wasn’t sure.

Stupid to be looking for her, anyway, he told himself as he made his way back to his cot. She wanted nothing to do with him, and he couldn’t blame her. But as he tucked his arms under his head and stared at the gym ceiling, he couldn’t stop the slideshow of the loving, laughing Delaney he’d left behind from playing through his mind.

Light was streaming through the windows the next time he opened his eyes, and he realized it was Mike grabbing his outerwear and boots that had awoken him. “Heading back out already? Was there breakfast?”

“Little girl’s missing. Mother went into her room this morning and she wasn’t in her bed.”

“Oh, shit.” Brody swung his feet to the floor and scrubbed his hands over his face. “She’s not hiding anywhere in the house?”

“They searched it so thoroughly I wouldn’t be surprised if they have to rehang the Sheetrock. She’s not there.”

Brody stood and picked up his bag, careful not to jostle Noah’s car seat or Sandy’s cot. “I can be ready to go in ten minutes, if you can wait.”

“Dressed like that, I’ll spend more time taking care of you than looking for April.”

The little girl’s name was April. Brody’s gaze fell on his sleeping nephew and his breath caught in his throat. Somebody’s child was out there in this storm and her name was April. “I’m not stupid. I’ve got winter gear, including boots, in the trunk of my rental.”

“Can use the extra eyes and ears, then.”

By the time Brody washed up and changed his clothes in the men’s room—which wasn’t ideal, but was all he had—the activity level in the gym had ratcheted up a notch. There were more men pulling on cold-weather gear and a group of women scrambling to brew coffee and put out doughnuts.

Delaney was one of them, and she scowled when she saw him. “You’re not going out there, are you?”

“I’m going to go out with Mike. I can be an extra set of eyes.”

“You’re not dressed to be out in this kind of weather.”

He took the disposable cup of coffee she handed him and noticed she’d put one sugar and a splash of milk in it, just the way he liked it. “I’ve got a good coat and some boots in the rental. I’ll be fine.”

“Brody, nobody expects you to go.”

“So you all think I’ll just sit here drinking coffee while a little girl’s lost out there in this storm? Thanks a lot.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, her jaw set in a grim line. Then she shook her head. “Fine. Be careful and don’t do anything stupid.”

Not much in the way of a vote of confidence. Brody downed a couple of doughnuts and another cup of coffee before heading outside to get his stuff out of the rental. The wind stole his breath and the sheets of freezing rain made walking a challenge, but he made it to the car and back without killing himself.

By the time he was ready, a guy named Baker who was—according to Mike—a volunteer with the fire department, had handed out location assignments.

“Okay, people,” the guy said. “Most of you know April, but for the few that don’t, just watch for a nine-year-old girl who isn’t safe at home where she belongs. She’s wearing a purple coat, a white hat with a purple pom-pom and pink boots. Let’s bring her home.”

As they filed out of the gym, Brody looked back at Delaney. He caught her watching him, and he raised a hand to say goodbye. She turned away.

* * *

BREAKFAST WAS NOTHING short of a nightmare. Being a short-order cook for a large group of cranky people who hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep was even less fun than registering vehicles for a mob of people who’d forgotten it was the last day of December.

One of the reasons they used the elementary school for the town shelter, rather than the high school, was the fact the kitchen was attached to what they called the gym, but was actually a multi-purpose room that doubled as the cafeteria. With space, a kitchen and restrooms in a central location, it was the perfect space.

What was not perfect was people passing through the line and settling for doughnuts, pastries and cold cereal when there was a fully stocked school kitchen behind them. Some of the women wanted to fire up the stoves and turn the place into the neighborhood diner. Delaney was going to lose her voice explaining over and over why that wasn’t possible.