Loving Jordan

Book 1: A Contemporary "Retro" Romance

by Elizabeth Castle

Genres: Contemporary Romance; contemporary romance; steamy romance; unexpected fatherhood romance; unexpected pregnancy romance

Synopsis

A Contemporary “Retro” Romance

Samantha Brody is just trying to keep her head above water, working as a waitress, helping her aunt with the bills, and helping take care of her much younger sister. The small Colorado town doesn't have many opportunities, and she doesn't expect much out of life. She certainly doesn't expect to find herself face to face with Jordan Forrester, a man more of a town legend than a real person.

Photographer Jordan Forrester is the eldest child of the Forrester clan, the wealthiest people in town. Jordan, considered the black sheep because he won't join the family business, enjoys his family but needs some distance. The new cabin he built in his hometown to use when he visits them is just what he needs.

On a cold, snowy night, Jordan, driving home in the snow, loses control of his truck, slamming his vehicle into that of a broken-down car. He finds Samantha passed out in the snow. With no other option, he takes her home. Little does he know that the small-town waitress will forever alter the course of his life.

About the “Retro” Series & Loving Jordan: The books in the “Retro” series were written before I embarked on my romantic suspense publishing journey. I was devouring books from the 80s and 90s when I wrote them. I consider the books “throwbacks.” I hadn't owned a cell phone very long when I wrote these (2008 for those of you who are curious), which seems crazy. Jordan is a bit of a dominant male, and Samantha is a younger heroine, similar to the tropes in those days. But it is one of my favorite tropes of forced proximity, a damsel in distress, and a snowstorm. This is a standalone title, approximately 57,000 words. Please note the story contains adult sexual situations. I hope you enjoy. – Lizzy Castle.

Read more

Release date: August 27, 2017

Publisher: In The Air Publishing

Print pages: 198

Content advisory: Open door romance.

Sample

Chapter One

“I’ll be right back with that coffee.”  Samantha Brody yawned behind a stack of menus.  She’d been on her feet since the morning shift, and her body was showing every sign of collapsing.  It was almost midnight now.  Things were finally starting to slow down.  The Saturday night crowd was finally making its way back home.  Or to the bar down the street.

Samantha looked over at the clock again.  When she had started working here, the restaurant had closed at eleven.  By this time on the weekends, she’d have been in her car on her way home, or if she were lucky, already tucked into bed.  Now there were almost weekly changes to the restaurant, and the first thing that had changed was the hours.  The restaurant opened at five in the morning instead of six.  The restaurant closed at two in the morning on Fridays and Saturdays.  Thankfully she would be one of the first to leave.  Getting home at three in the morning was not on today’s to-do list.  She was too tired.

Despite the worn-looking booths and threadbare carpet the restaurant sported, business was lively tonight, as it was every weekend.  The various diners that evening had been a rowdy crowd and Samantha was worn out from running around.  Lanky teenagers who had enough money to waste on things other than fast food had come and gone earlier in the evening, leaving behind a bigger mess than a group of two-year old’s.  The adults had settled in shortly afterward, their complaints many and varied.  There wasn’t much to do on a Saturday night in the old mountain town, or any other night for that matter.  They came here to Larry’s.  The food was as uninspired as the restaurant’s name.  Larry had been the previous owner, more than ten years ago now, but the name had stayed the same.

Samantha glanced out the window to see yet another round of snowfall.  The on-again-off-again snow showers looked like they were very much on again.  The meteorologists were forecasting snow for the rest of the week.  Just the thought of having to leave the warm restaurant was daunting.  With the restaurant booths still half full, it was apparent the snow wasn’t keeping people indoors.

Knowing the snow was coming, Samantha would have stayed home from work, but such luxuries weren’t allowed in her home.  Just because she had the worst cold she could ever remember having was no excuse for her to miss work.  Her aunt had shooed her out the door that morning, telling her she’d better get her fanny to work.  If her aunt could work through a cold in the dead of winter, so could her niece.  Samantha would have argued that being a waitress was a lot more difficult than answering phones, but she knew from experience that begging and pleading wouldn’t work.  It hadn’t worked as a child.  At twenty-two, it still didn’t.

Samantha thought longingly of her bed with its thick handmade quilted blanket.  The old quilt her grandmother made was double layered.  Grandma Jane had always doubled up her blankets when she decided to make one.  She’d lived in Colorado long enough to know that you kept yourself warm in the winter.  Unfortunately for Samantha, it would be at least another hour before she could even hope for the luxury of snuggling under her covers.  And with the way this crowd was lingering, most likely it would be much longer.

“Yo, Samantha, you awake over there?  There’s another table to be taken care of.  Get going.”  Roger’s chubby face appeared around the corner of the kitchen door.

Samantha glanced around and saw a new group of diners sitting down.  Never mind that she was supposed to have left at twelve.  When Roger was in charge, he milked every minute out of the staff that he could.  Roger’s father owned the restaurant, but with the way Roger strutted around the place, you’d think he did.  With Roger Senior not bothering to come in these days, it hardly mattered who really owned it.  Roger Junior had made various changes to the restaurant, and his father had let him.

Instead of arguing that it was time for her to go, she headed over to the table in the corner that had just been occupied.  When she saw who the diners were, she realized there was no way she was getting out of the restaurant any time soon.  Amelia Forrester and her current paramour were sitting there, their voices audible over the considerable noise in the restaurant.  Usually, Amelia didn’t bother eating locally, but when she did, she was sure to make a production of it.  She probably had on her most expensive sweater, and the jeans she wore were definitely designer.  The boots, too, were designer and made to look good, not to keep her feet warm.  Along with her makeup and hair, she looked extremely out of place in the run-down restaurant.

The Forresters were the wealthiest people in town, probably the wealthiest for miles.  The Forresters bred horses, or so they liked to claim.  None of them actually had anything to do with the ranch their home was set on.  They had people who took care of the ranch for them.  They came and went as they pleased.  The Forresters had more than one house, although the actual number had yet to be determined.  To her knowledge, there was the ranch house, the beach house in Florida, another in the hills of California, and another house in Aspen for the winter ski season.  It seemed that the family was back for a while, although Samantha doubted they would be here long.  While the children were growing up, the family had lived in Ford Hollow, using their ranch as their home during the school year.

Like most people in town, she didn’t see much of the rest of the family, although she knew who they were.  The only one she’d met personally was Amelia, and that didn’t say much for the rest of the Forrester clan.  Amelia was a spoiled brat, not to mention the baby of the family.  It showed in every word and every action.  Amelia was somebody, or so she thought, and she let everyone know it.

Amelia had just turned twenty-one that year.  She’d made a big deal out of it.  Samantha was slightly older, but they’d shared a few classes through school.  Samantha had missed so much school her freshman year that she’d failed most of her classes.  When she’d retaken the ones she’d failed, she had to take them her sophomore year, along with the new batch of freshman.  It still grated on her nerves that she’d had to stay home to take care of her aunt, even after all these years.  Her aunt had been going through her very first pregnancy that year.  She’d eventually lost the child, for which Samantha had felt bad.  Her aunt had desperately wanted a child.  Vivian had come along soon after, but the loss of her first pregnancy was still something Rose hadn’t completely gotten over.

That year had been bad for the small Brody family.  Her father had started disappearing more and more, driving his truck for longer stretches at a time.  Samantha spent the summer working.  When she’d gone back to school, Amelia and her friends had tormented her in the way some high school girls do.  Samantha hadn’t bothered to take it personally.  Amelia tormented everyone.  It had just been grating to have her failures tossed in her face by the most popular girl in school day after day.

Samantha shrugged out of her reverie and headed over to take care of the table.  High school seemed so long ago and so unimportant in the overall scheme of things.

As Samantha took their order, she didn’t know if she should be insulted that Amelia didn’t recognize her or not.  In all the times she’d dined here, she had never let on that she knew who Samantha was.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t a sign that Amelia had grown up and had given up her old ways.  It just meant that she hadn’t cared who she’d tormented enough to remember their names and faces.

Amongst the giggling and fluttering eyelashes, Samantha managed to get their order.  She headed back to the kitchen, her legs feeling like lead weights and her head pounding again.

“Figures she’d show up tonight.  It’s been a long time since she’s been around.”  Katherine Lawson, who insisted that everyone call her Kitty, was a fellow waitress.  Her overdone makeup and spiky blond hair peeked through the doors to spy on Amelia.  The outrageous hair and makeup amused Samantha, especially since the woman was on the verge of turning fifty.  But the older woman had a tall, curvy figure that Samantha envied.  Samantha barely topped five feet.  Her license said five-two, but it was mostly wishful thinking on Samantha’s part.  Kitty was five-ten and all leg.

Samantha just shook her head.  And immediately regretted it.  Her fever must be higher than she thought.  Just a little jostle made her dizzy.  She focused on the back of Kitty’s head, trying to stop the spinning.  “It’s never long enough.  You’d think she’d find someplace else to go and stay there.  It’s not like this town can offer the fun and excitement she gets elsewhere.”

Kitty heard the yawn that interrupted Samantha’s words.  “You should be getting home.  You look dead on your feet.”

“I feel dead on my feet.  But you know Roger, no one leaves until everything’s cleaned up.”

Kitty knew Roger well.  “That fool hangs around here too much.  You’d think a man his age would have something better to do than harass waitresses.”  Roger had just turned thirty, and he’d had a huge party at the restaurant to celebrate it.  He’d made the staff clean up afterward.

Samantha agreed.  “The cooks, too.  I heard that Becky dumped him.  My guess is he’ll be around a lot more until he finds a new girlfriend.  And let’s face it, there aren’t that many women to choose from around here who don’t already know him, or who haven’t already dated him and discovered what a jerk he is.”

Becky had been a blessing to the staff.  With Roger occupied with his new lady, he spent less time managing the restaurant.  His father was a lot more laid-back and didn’t treat his staff poorly.  When the man fully retired, Samantha was seriously considering trying to find a different job.  But in a town this size, there weren’t many choices.

Kitty patted Samantha’s shoulders, then rubbed them lightly.  Samantha knew Kitty was concerned about her.  She could hardly blame her.  The cough she’d developed was getting worse.  She had been sporting fever flags every day this past week.  Her already thin frame seemed to be getting even thinner.  Her skin lacked all luster, and her eyes were glazed over.  But Samantha needed the money.  Kitty had commented more than once that this situation was ridiculous, and that no one in their right mind would be working in Samantha’s condition.  Kitty had gone on to tell her that if she were Samantha’s mother, she’d have tied her to the bed to keep her at home.  Samantha couldn’t argue, because as the minutes ticked by, she felt worse.

Samantha closed her eyes again and propped herself against the counter.  She didn’t dare sit down.  If she did, she might not get back up again.  Her already unsteady legs were threatening to dump her on the floor.

Kitty finished up Amelia’s table before Samantha could muster the energy to take care of it herself.  Samantha couldn’t even drum up the energy to argue.  When Kitty came back, Samantha barely felt her nudging her awake.

“Samantha, wake up, honey.”

Samantha jolted.  Dear heaven, she had almost fallen asleep standing up.  “I’m up.”

Looking for something to keep her awake, Kitty fetched her a cup of coffee.  With the way Samantha was feeling, the caffeine wouldn’t keep her awake later.  And the hot fluid might help with the congestion.  “Want to hear the latest gossip?”

She didn’t, but Samantha didn’t say so.  She accepted the coffee gratefully.  Despite the heat of the restaurant kitchen, she was shivering.  “Sure.”

Kitty paused, working up the suspense.  “Guess who’s back in town?”

Samantha didn’t care.  “Who?”

Kitty paused again.  Then in a whisper, she said, “Jordan Forrester.”

That got Samantha’s attention.  “Are you sure?”

“Yep.  Saw him myself at the grocery store just this morning.  I tell you, you can’t miss Jordan when you see him.  If I weren’t married and were twenty years younger, I’d be all over that man.  He’s over six feet and solid muscle.  He has this gorgeous blond hair, almost like gold.  Makes me jealous every time.  It’s just not fair that men have hair like that.  Anyway, I just happened to run out of milk, and you know how testy Christopher gets when he doesn’t have milk for his coffee.”

Since Samantha knew Kitty’s husband well, she nodded at that.  “Go on.”  Jordan Forrester was big news.  His visits created loads of gossip, especially since he came and went quickly and infrequently, usually without being seen.  Most people didn’t know him very well, and Samantha would bet that most stories about him had been made up to amuse the community.  He’d attended military school, so he had rarely been around, even as a child.  He’d joined the Navy right out of high school.  No one was sure what he was up to these days, but everyone had a theory.

“I don’t know much.  But he’s not staying in the family home.  He’s been staying in a cabin off the main county road that he had built.  My guess is he’s here to visit his grandfather.  The old man took ill a few months back.  Jordan doesn’t care much about visiting the rest of his family enough to seek them out more than a couple of times a year.  But he and his granddaddy have always been close.”

The Forrester’s eldest child had left at the age of eighteen.  If Samantha got her math right, that would make him thirty-one now.  He came back now and again, usually around the holidays, but no one seemed to know what he’d been up to.  As the oldest of three children, and the only male, his activities had been closely monitored as he’d grown up.  When he’d decided to forgo joining the family business and had sought his fortunes elsewhere, the town had been shocked.  No one turned their back on the Forrester family, especially one of its own.  But the family business was being run by the husband of the oldest sister, Lillian, and Jordan was usually nowhere to be found.

“I doubt he’s here to stay, even if he did have a cabin built.”  Samantha had never met Jordan Forrester and didn’t know what he looked like.  She had only ever seen his sister and mother, who had hair darker than her own auburn shade and brown eyes instead of blue.  Kitty said he had blond hair, but it was hard to picture it.  But it didn’t matter that she’d never set eyes on Jordan before.  She had lived in this small community all her life, and any news about the Forresters spread like wildfire, and she listened as intensely as everyone else.

The whole family was of interest, although Samantha didn’t always pay close attention to the gossip.  The rest of the family wasn’t nearly as interesting to hear about.  Jordan’s father had been mayor once.  Then he’d been a state representative.  He’d given up politics in the last few years when he’d lost a race for senator.  It had pleased most everyone in town to not have his influence over them anymore, but he still had big money, and that money still held power.

Jordan’s mother had been born in New Hampshire.  When or how the elder Forrester had met his bride, no one was sure.  He’d just come back from a visit back east one day with a wife in tow.  Three children followed: Jordan, Lillian, and Amelia.

Samantha gave a little more thought to Jordan and his family before she pushed them from her mind and got back to work.  She’d met one of the Forresters, and one was enough.  And that one was currently demanding her attention.  After Amelia exclaimed disgustedly that she’d tasted better sewage, she and her date left the restaurant.  Samantha was not surprised to see no tip left on the table.  Amelia never left one.  She found some reason to hate the food or the service right before she had to pay the check.

Kitty helped clean up the restaurant, noticing the lack of tip.  Samantha watched Kitty from the corner of her eye, knowing she’d try to slip some extra money on the table.  Over the last few years of working together, Samantha had caught her more than once.  Kitty had gotten pretty good at slipping a few dollars into Samantha’s tips.  Her concern warmed her, so she did her best to slip the money back to her without her noticing.

“Are you going to be all right, hon?”  Kitty was watching her as she swayed on her feet.  Samantha knew she needed to be in bed.  And with the way she was going, she was soon going to need a hospital bed if she didn’t get some rest.

“I’m fine.”  The coughing fit that followed that statement made Kitty skeptical.

Samantha knew Kitty didn’t believe a word she said and was touched when Kitty followed behind her all the way home.  Samantha drove home slowly with Kitty trailing behind her until she pulled into her aunt’s driveway and got through the front door.  Since it was on Kitty’s way home anyway, Samantha didn’t fuss.  Samantha waved at her friend, letting her know she knew exactly what Kitty had been up to.  It warmed her.  Kitty had a big, generous heart.

The house was dark when Samantha unlocked the front door, as it always was when she worked the evening shift.  Her aunt would have been in bed hours ago.  She kept early nights.  She claimed that she needed her beauty sleep.  If any woman needed it, it was her aunt.  By the end of the day, her aunt looked drawn and tired.  She’d fix dinner, watch her favorite nighttime shows, and go off to bed.  Despite the somewhat boring existence, her aunt was happy with her routine and became agitated when it was disrupted.

Samantha climbed the two small steps that led to the addition in the back.  The house had been built with only two small bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a tiny bath.  The previous owner had added a large room in the back of the house.  It was drafty and not that well built, but it gave Samantha the privacy she craved.  Her aunt had one bedroom, and her sister Vivian had the other.  Since her sister was only five, she had taken over most of the house with her toys.  A few even dotted her own bedroom floor.  Her aunt doted on her only daughter and let her have the run of the house.

Samantha stifled another coughing fit and stripped out of her uniform.  She hung it up neatly because she’d need it again in the morning and just didn’t have the energy to run it through the wash.  She had to be back at work by ten, and if she wanted to get any sleep, washing the uniform would have to wait.  Monday she didn’t have to be in until the dinner shift, and she’d have the opportunity to catch up on her sleep, along with the laundry and a multitude of other chores.

Samantha tossed on a robe and headed for the bathroom.  Looking in the mirror was a mistake.  She looked terrible.  The dark auburn hair that she’d tied back earlier was hanging limply around her face now that she’d released it from its tight bun.  Her usually rosy skin was white.  Her usually lively dark blue eyes were flat, tired.  In the last two weeks since she’d gotten sick, the weight she’d lost was apparent in her face.  Her cheeks were sunken in and her lips were pale and dry.  It was no wonder Kitty had been so concerned.

She quickly showered and dried her hair.  She wasn’t hungry, so she didn’t bother to go find what her aunt had fixed for dinner.  She wouldn’t be able to choke down a single bite.  Her stomach was roiling again from the two cups of coffee at work, and she felt like she’d be sick at any moment.  She shrugged into her warmest nightshirt and went to bed.

But dawn came too soon.  Vivian was awake, and she was not a quiet child.  Samantha rolled over to glance at the clock.  It was only seven.  She’d only been in bed for a little over four hours.  It might as well not have been any for the way she felt.  Her throat hurt worse than it did the day before; her head was pounding in tandem with her sister’s playful giggling.  Her body ached everywhere, and she was shivering under her covers.

Samantha barely had time to brace herself when her sister slung open the bedroom door and jumped on her.  The low moan of pain went unheeded as Vivian began bouncing up and down, demanding a bowl of cereal.  A voice from the hall called Vivian out of her bed.  Samantha groaned as the voices continued.  Vivian was being lectured about waking people up, a lecture that was given almost every morning.

“I’m up.”  Samantha struggled out of her covers but moaned again when the cold air hit her bare legs.

“Come on and get some breakfast then.”  Rose Brody shook her head at her daughter and left Samantha where she was.

Samantha let her head hang for a moment, then pushed the tangles back.  She and her aunt didn’t always get along well.  Rose had taken care of Samantha for most of her teenage years.  Samantha’s dad had married his deceased wife’s sister, and Rose made sure Samantha was fed and clothed.  She just had never been an affectionate woman.  The years after Vivian had been born was a revelation.  Rose was a doting, loving mother to Vivian.  Even now that her husband had left, she still retained an open affection for her only daughter.

Some things never changed, and Samantha had given up trying to change them.  Her father was gone for good and had been for three years.  Samantha was content with the relationship she had with her aunt.  They were roommates and somewhat friends.  It was more than she’d had growing up.

She made it through breakfast, thankfully not a bowl of cold cereal, and managed polite conversation.  Her aunt must have noticed how sick she was because she fixed another hot cup of coffee for her.  The medicine she’d taken helped her breathe a little better and stopped the nagging cough.  But by the time she was dressed and ready for work, she was dragging.

The bathroom mirror showed her she was in pretty bad shape and that the little sleep she’d gotten had not helped.  The hair that was washed the night before was matted to her head.  With the help of a few pins and a thick brush, she managed to get it into its regular twist.  She would love to leave it down, but the restaurant frowned on leaving hair loose, even in a ponytail.  She decided to forego makeup today.  Her skin was so pale that anything more than a little blush was going to make her look ridiculous.  She tried a little concealer and mascara, but it didn’t look good, and she took it off.  There was nothing she could do about it, so she powdered her face and left the bathroom.

Her uniform needed washing, but that would come tonight.  It was still mostly clean but a little wrinkled.  Samantha managed to get into her pantyhose, socks, and shoes.  She grabbed a sweater and tossed it over the uniform.  Roger hated his employees wearing anything but the uniform.  It was simply too bad, she told herself; she was freezing.  She grabbed her purse, checking its contents.

It had taken a bit longer than usual to get ready for work, but Samantha didn’t rush.  Her body wouldn’t have let her.  She simply bid her aunt and sister goodbye, not having the energy to play with Vivian as she usually did.  It had snowed through the night, and it made getting to work that much more difficult.  She’d managed to warm up the car and clear off the snow, but it was slow going.  Roger used any reason he could to dock his workers’ pay, and being late was his favorite.  Thankfully, she managed to get there on time.

The late morning shift drifted into dinner.  Sundays were always busy.  The church crowd was good for tips, but today Samantha would have given anything to still be curled up in bed.  She’d not gotten enough sleep and her head was woozy.  Her body felt like it was on autopilot.  She managed to screw up several orders, but no one complained too loudly.  She had a feeling that her illness showed, and her customers felt sorry for her.

As was usual, she stayed past the time she was scheduled.  The restaurant could use another waitress, but Samantha doubted Roger would hire anyone else.  Since she usually picked up the extra, it would only cut into her own hours.  She stayed through lunch, stayed through the early afternoon, and somehow made it through the early dinner crowd.

It wasn’t that late when she left, but it was dark and had been for a few hours.  The snow was blowing sideways across the parking lot as Samantha let herself out.  She wrapped her coat tighter around herself, fruitlessly trying to keep the draft from going up her back.  It took her already frozen fingers a moment to unlock her car door.  Thankfully the door wasn’t frozen shut.  It was colder this winter than it had been in a long time.  It didn’t look like the cold was going to let up.

When Samantha managed to get into her car, it sputtered and choked a bit in the cold.  Nervously she tried the key again.  When the car finally started up, she gave a quick thanks, flicking on the defrost.  She would have hated to have to call her aunt to come get her.  It would have been such a hassle to get Vivian dressed for the cold.  Plus, she couldn’t afford to fix the car if it were having serious trouble.  Despite her hope that the car only needed to warm up, the car kept rattling as she made her way home.  Because of the snow, she was driving much slower than she wished.

Halfway home, it seemed the wind was howling louder.  Then she realized the sound was coming from the car.  A weird hissing noise assailed her ears.  The sound just kept getting louder, and not knowing what to do, Samantha pulled over to the shoulder.  The noise was getting louder even as the car idled.  She shut the engine off for a moment to listen.  She looked around.  She was a mile or so from home.  The familiar road up ahead had her trying the key again.  Hopefully her car would make it the rest of the way.

But when she tried the key, the engine wouldn’t start.  “Please don’t do this now.”  Samantha’s head was pounding, and her throat was aching again.  The car was getting colder by the second.  Her breath was starting to be visible again in the confines of the car.  She kept trying the key, but after a minute, Samantha realized the car wasn’t going to start.

Tears of frustration filled her eyes.  This couldn’t be happening.  She was too tired and too sick to deal with the cold and blowing snow.  Though she was on a main road, it could be a long time before anyone came by.  And it wasn’t a guarantee that they’d stop and check on the broken-down car.  She couldn’t fix it herself; she could change the oil and check her fluids, but that was the extent of her knowledge.

She knew that when stranded in a snowstorm, you should wait in your car until someone came along.  But this wasn’t exactly a well populated area.  Samantha looked out the front windshield again.  The wind wasn’t blowing as hard as it had been when she left the restaurant.  Either that or the trees that lined the street kept it from whipping across the road.  It wouldn’t take long to walk the rest of the way, would it?  Samantha pulled her coat tighter around her neck, shivering in her seat.  Her coat was warm enough, but her legs would freeze if she tried to walk.  Her uniform was a calf-length skirt, and her nylons didn’t offer any protection from the cold.

Either way, she couldn’t sit here forever.  Samantha kept a blanket in the trunk of the car so she could wrap it around her waist.  Hopefully it would keep her legs from freezing.  She had on thick shoes and socks so she would be able to walk through the drifts.

Unfortunately, it was easier said than done.  As Samantha made it to the trunk, the wind decided to pick up.  Mercifully, the blanket was in the trunk, along with her boots.  She smiled briefly.  She’d forgotten that she’d put them there.  An extra red scarf and her ski gloves were there, too.  She must be truly exhausted to have forgotten.  She’d spent enough years in the cold winter to be prepared, just in case.  If only she’d thought to put a pair of pants in there.  But she made do with the blanket.

Trying not to open her coat too much, she hiked up the knee-length coat to her waist.  She managed to get the blanket around her, despite the blowing wind.  She tied it tightly around her hips and managed to slip on the boots by leaning up against the car.  She tied the scarf around her head to keep her ears warm and pulled her hood up over it.  The rest of the scarf was long enough to get across her face if she held it.  She wouldn’t freeze on the way home.  She slammed the trunk shut and tucked her small purse into the pocket of her coat.

Samantha started on her way, keeping her head bent low.  But between the wind and her fatigue, the going was slow.  The snow was falling harder now, and it was getting hard to see.  She turned back to see how far she’d gone and realized she hadn’t gone very far.  Her car could still be seen despite poor visibility.  How was she going to make it home?  She had only gone a few yards, and already her legs were aching and cold.  It would take forever to get home.  If only there were a house nearby.  But the only thing close was the small stretch of homes where she lived.

Samantha stopped for a moment.  Her chest hurt, and it felt like her lungs were freezing.  Every breath was painful.  Despite the boots and thick socks, her feet were frozen.  Her legs were going numb.  The cold was making her eyes water.  She kept trudging on, watching her feet.

She had no idea how far she’d gone.  She tried to turn around, but her body wouldn’t cooperate.  Samantha’s head spun, and the ground seemed to be getting closer.  She never knew she had passed out.