He nodded, and the mumbling ceased. I stood up on shaky limbs. He followed suit, but his hands were everywhere—covering his mouth, touching his legs, buried in his hair—as though he couldn’t handle being completely still.
The snow was coming down harder now. I tried to tuck my hair behind my ears, but the wind made it nearly impossible. The world seemed gray and very isolated from our viewpoint.
“Let’s see if we can get the snowmobile started. The storm’s picking up,” I said, eyeing him cautiously.
Together, we walked to the overturned machine and worked to turn it right side up. Miles seemed to have gotten ahold of himself enough to climb on top. He fiddled with things and worked at starting the engine. I set about picking up all the parts scattered around us in case something was needed. It was mostly things from inside the pockets of the machine: sunglasses, a Coke can, and a few tools. Nothing that looked like we’d be stuck out here forever. There was a low growl when Miles turned the key. A clicking noise came next, and then…nothing. Miles hopped off, did some manly jiggling of parts, and tried again. This time, no growl or click. Just nothing.
We locked eyes. I gave him my most encouraging smile, though my nerves were on track to betray me soon. I checked my phone in my pocket. No bars. We were too far into the mountains. I had no service.
Miles checked his phone, too, but I could tell by the look on his face there would be no rescue mission coming to pick us up anytime soon. He looked around as if trying to gauge our odds of finding shelter.
The snow peppered my cheeks, and I cinched my coat up tighter on my neck and pulled my hood down low on my face, really missing that beanie.
“There’s a covered bridge about half a mile across this field. Right next to the creek. That might be our best bet.”
I mentally cringed. A covered bridge was a decoration piece for Vermont. Beautiful and touristy. Not something that would necessarily save us from hypothermia in a Vermont blizzard. But I didn’t see any better option amid our surroundings, so when Miles held out his hand, I didn’t hesitate a second before grabbing it. We fell into hurried steps across the field, not talking beyond an occasional grunt or his warning me to step over a rock. The tightness around his face since our crash had not lessened. His tension bled into me, making my steps and limbs jittery, so I said nothing and just followed alongside him.
The covered bridge was one of the smallest I’d seen. Rustic dark wood framed the outside. Upon closer inspection, it only had a couple of leaks from the roof that I could see. Except for the sides that allowed cars to pass through, it was closed in. Thankfully, there were two windows on each side of the bridge, giving us a little light amid the darkness. We moved toward the middle, wanting to get as far out of the wind and snow as possible. Once there, Miles let go of my hand, settled down on the gravel road beneath the bridge, leaning back against the wood.
I looked both ways through the bridge as though a car might drive through at any moment. But only black clouds and snow met my sights. I shivered, running my hands up and down my arms. I had worked up a little sweat with our brisk walk to the bridge, but now that we were here, the bitter wind whipping through the tunnel seemed to freeze me at my core.
Miles tugged on my hand, drawing my body down beside him. When I sat, he stuffed our clasped hands into his coat pocket, tossing me a small, tight smile as he did so. He appeared to be slowly coming back to himself, but it seemed forced.
“Thanks for your help back there,” I said.
“In almost killing you? You’re welcome.” The words, full of sarcasm, spat out bitterly.
“No.” I squeezed his hand inside his jacket. “It was an accident. That could have happened to anyone. It’s not your fault.”
He shook his head but didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Though he still held my hand, his actions left an unfamiliar distance between us. A bridge we hadn’t yet crossed in our growing friendship these past few days. I wasn’t sure what to say or do.
“I know I’m being a jerk right now. I’m sorry. I just need a minute.”
“You’re okay,” I whispered.
My entire body went into maternal-instinct mode. I wanted to hold him, to make whatever was inside of him not hurt anymore, but I didn’t know how to do that, especially with him. This was a man that I wasn’t really dating in a really confusing way. So, I did the best I could and just sat there in the quiet, holding his hand.
“Do you want to talk about anything?” I asked after a few minutes, listening to the wind howl through our tunnel inside the bridge.
He let out a humorless chuckle. “I’ll be fine. Tonight just dug up some bad memories.”
“Bad memories?” I prompted lightly.
I began to think he wasn’t going to answer before he mumbled, “It’s…just this thing that happened a long time ago. Took me a while to get over.”
“This thing that happened,” I repeated slowly. “Care to expound on that, writer man?”
He smiled for a moment before it was gone.
“Was it in college?” I guessed.
A long pause. “High school.”
Goodness, it was like pulling teeth. “With a girl?”
He took a deep breath and crossed his legs out in front of him at the ankles. “It’s a long story. You sure you want to hear this?”
“If you want to tell me.” I motioned with my hands to the blizzard swirling in the openings of the bridge. “I happen to have some extra time right now.”
“Buckle up, then.”
It took him a minute to start the story, but slowly, he began. “When I was a senior in high school, I was dating this girl. Kelly. I’d known her my whole life. I had a crush on her off and on growing up. We were friends, but I was always quiet and didn’t think she’d have anything to do with me. She was…a terror. Wasn’t afraid of anything. Lived every second going a hundred miles an hour.” He chuckled dryly as though he was remembering something from long ago. “Anyway, our senior year, we ended up working on the school paper. She was one of the photographers. I’m not sure what she saw in me, but we started dating, and it got serious pretty quick. We started planning to go to college together, and we were even talking about marriage.” At my surprised face, he amended, “Not right away, but you know, later. Down the road.”
I nodded.
“Anyway, that March, we had one of the worst winters Vermont had ever seen. It might as well have been January. It was pretty crazy, but it made for good skiing. She had taught me to ski earlier that winter, and so, every chance we could, we hit the slopes. For our six-month anniversary, I wanted to surprise her, so I planned this big ski trip. Just the two of us. I wanted her to think I was more of a rebel than I used to be, so I convinced her to cut school that day, and we rode up to Killington Resort together. It was two months before graduation.”