There was only one person with any real prospects. Luke Silici, who worked for the governor’s office, had been making noises about running for the senate, until Adelaide stepped up and surprised everyone. Then, feeling she’d get more party support than he would, he’d backed off at the last minute. “Luke Silici will enter in your absence. The die-hard conservatives won’t have a prayer of producing someone who can beat him. Not this late in the game. That’s why they pressured you to run against me. You were their best shot. Not that I believe you could’ve taken me.”
She shouldn’t have had a chance. He was the incumbent. But Adelaide had her husband’s tremendous popularity on her side, the sympathy factor, the support of key Republicans who possessed the power to swing a large number of votes, and the success of her multimillion-dollar energy conservation company, which established her business acumen. She’d even stolen the Salazar endorsement.
He expected her to come back at him, listing those assets as proof that retaining his seat was far from a given—and welcomed the argument that would start. This was his first opportunity to privately confront the stunning widow who’d pulled her support from him the moment he began to oppose legislation her husband had favored. If they were about to die, he could say whatever he wanted, knowing he wouldn’t be quoted in the Sacramento Bee the following morning.
But Ms. Fairfax didn’t return fire. She merely said, “They didn’t have to pressure me.”
Those six words put him in his place and removed the distraction he’d so eagerly embraced.
“We have to find shelter or we’ll wish we’d gone over with the plane,” she said and made a move to get up.
“Not so fast.” He yanked her down by her expensive wool coat and rolled onto his hands and knees. That was when he realized—as inappropriately as he was dressed for winter survival in a fifteen-hundred-dollar business suit—her apparel included a skirt. Although her legs had proved quite a diversion when he was boarding the plane, the panty hose and high heels that showed them off so well would give her little protection from the elements.
How could this have happened? He was freezing his ass off, staring at nothing but snow, and still couldn’t believe he was stranded in a blizzard instead of on his way toward the fundraiser, where he’d hoped to convince the majority of his party, once and for all, that Adelaide Fairfax didn’t have what it took to win against the Democrats come November.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he surveyed the mountain.
They had to continue shouting. “I’m trying to figure out where we should go in order to increase our chances of survival.”
“Are you w-worried about an—an avalanche?”
Her teeth chattered as she spoke. Her coordination would start to suffer next. Mild hypothermia began with uncontrolled shivering, impaired coordination and blue lips. It could progress quickly to more serious problems and eventually death. Anyone who’d seen a survival movie knew that.
Death seemed to wait at the end of every avenue. He was astonished that they’d both escaped this far. Cox hadn’t been so lucky.
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” he said, speaking more loudly.
“Are we in an—an avalanche area?”
Evidently, she wasn’t much of a ski buff. “Any steep mountain covered with snow can avalanche. But they occur most often when new snow falls onto cement pack.”
“Like it’s doing now.”
The wryness in her voice encouraged him. He hoped it meant she was tougher than she seemed. She’d certainly done well navigating the predominantly male world of business. But the way she’d reacted in that plane had him worried. “You got it, ace. The wet, heavy snow sitting on top of the hardened ice slides right off, especially when it’s steep.”
“Great. So if we d-don’t want to go hurtling to the b-bottom of the canyon, what should we do?”
“Move carefully and get on stable ground.”
“Say that again?”
“We need to find a safe place to build a shelter!”
“Out of what?”
“The only thing we’ve got—snow.” Fortunately, he’d been an Eagle Scout and knew about snow caves. He’d had to build a total of three in his lifetime, on various campouts. Of course, those had been for fun, for practice. And it’d been twenty-seven years since he’d built the last one.
She cupped her hands around her mouth. “What about the p-plane? Maybe we can f-find some emergency supplies in the wreckage.”
She was right. Legally, the pilot would’ve had to carry certain articles. But it wasn’t as if the plane or the pilot came from Alaska. California was known for its predominately mild weather. Had the members of the state legislature concerned themselves with winter in the high Sierras when they considered emergency gear legislation?
Maxim hadn’t seen any such bill since he’d been in office. He could only pray that they had.
“Regulations would demand some sort of supplies, but who knows how well the owner or pilot complied. Or if those supplies went over with the main body of the plane.” It was very likely they had. The pilot himself had gone over, hadn’t he?
Maxim didn’t want to think about that. Christmas was next week. What kind of holiday would Cox’s family have? And what about the two of them? Any? Probably not. But he didn’t believe it was advisable to extinguish all hope. Adelaide was losing body heat faster than he was; it wouldn’t help to discourage her. “We’ll look, but first we’ll get warm and wait out the storm.”
“Sounds g-good.”
Not as “g-good” as waking up to discover this was just a nightmare, that he could still look forward to seeing his daughters next week when school ended. But at least he wasn’t alone. He’d found it ironic to be stranded with Fairfax’s young widow. Now he was grateful for her company. Because the only thing worse than being stuck out here with her was being stuck out here alone.
CHAPTER THREE
MAXIM HAD NO IDEA how long it took them to dig the cave. He couldn’t see his Rolex, couldn’t see much of anything. He wasn’t even sure they were tunneling in a safe spot. They hadn’t had the time, the visibility or the mobility to look around. They’d found what appeared to be a level spot and started digging. It was either that or continue to brave the cold without any shelter, which wasn’t a viable option. If they didn’t warm their extremities soon, they’d lose them to frostbite.