PROLOGUE
THE ROAD WAS COVERED with black ice. Leaning forward, Hannah Price focused intently on the strip of narrow highway beyond her beating windshield wipers. But the dark countryside and the whirling snow made it difficult to see. Gripping the steering wheel until the stark white of her knuckles glowed in the light of her instrument panel, she took a deep breath in an effort to calm down.
They can’t be far. I’ll find them.
The thought of her two sons being whisked away without her permission had pumped her body so full of adrenaline she barely blinked when her tires slid around the next curve. The back end of her minivan swung onto the shoulder and almost hit the guardrail separating the road from a steep drop. But she quickly gained control and, fixing a picture of Brent and Kenny in her mind, increased her speed. According to her neighbor, Mr. McDermott, her ex-husband had less than a five-minute jump on her. She could make that up if she hurried.
Sleigh bells ring, are you listenin’… Christmas music played on the radio, but she wasn’t paying much attention. She was too focused. She’d find Russ. She had to. According to Mr. McDermott, Russ had loaded his Jeep with beer and had obviously been drinking already. Her neighbor had also mentioned that Russ had two carloads of his survivalist buddies following him. No doubt they’d have a grand time at the cabin, getting drunk and shooting at anything that moved. It wasn’t safe for the boys. Brent and Kenny were to remain with her for the holidays; it was all laid out in the custody papers.
…A beautiful sight…We’re happy tonight…
The most perilous part of the journey between Dundee, her small hometown, and Boise was coming up fast. She managed to navigate the first of the hairpin turns without sliding all over the road, but then came up behind a pickup that was barely moving.
With a curse, she slowed to a crawl. At this rate, Russ would cross into Oregon before she could reach Boise. If that happened, her boys would be lost to her until her ex decided he didn’t want the responsibility of caring for them anymore and deigned to bring them home. Provided they survived until then.
She needed to get them back now, where she knew they’d be safe. Before there was another incident like last year, when one of Russ’s redneck friends had held a knife to Kenny’s throat.
…He sings a love song, as we go along, walking in a winter wonderland.
The lyrics mocked her anxiety as she glanced hesitantly at the double yellow lines in the middle of the dark, shiny road. Veering into the other lane, she hoped for a chance to get around the truck. But it wasn’t possible. The turns were too tight.
The disc jockey came on to say the next song was believed to be Welsh in origin and came from a tune called “Nos Galan” dating back to the sixteenth century.
Deck the halls with boughs of holly…
Panic prickled Hannah’s scalp as she remained trapped behind the slow-moving truck. She felt the seconds tick by, imagined Russ taking the boys farther and farther away from her with every passing minute.
…’Tis the season to be jolly…
Russ insisted the knife incident had been a joke. But Hannah didn’t find it funny, and Kenny hadn’t laughed about it, either. The only joke, to Hannah, was that she’d ever been stupid enough to marry Russ in the first place. If her mother hadn’t died when she was just out of high school, leaving her all alone…If she hadn’t felt so cast adrift and desperate for an anchor…If she hadn’t succumbed to Russ’s unrelenting pursuit and gotten pregnant…Then things could have been different.
But there was no use wallowing in regret. She’d made a colossal mistake, but she’d been young and naïve. And once she’d become pregnant, she’d felt she had no choice.
…Follow me in merry measure…
Brent and Kenny. Her sons were all that mattered now. She couldn’t let Russ get too far ahead. She didn’t know where the cabin was located.
Hannah floated to the left again, her eyes boring holes in the thickly falling snow as she tried to see around the next bend.
It was no use. She couldn’t pass.
…Heedless of the wind and weather…
Easing back into her own lane, she laid her hand on her horn, hoping the truck would pull over or at least speed up.
Brake lights flashed as the driver slowed even more—she’d only succeeded in rattling him.
They wouldn’t be out of the mountains for another twenty miles…. Hannah wanted to bang her head on the steering wheel in frustration. She had to pass. It’d only take her a moment. A quick dash around, then she’d be on her way.
…Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Once again, she checked for oncoming traffic. A car rumbled past, then nothing. There was another curve not far ahead, but she felt fairly confident she could get around the truck if she didn’t hesitate.
Another carol, Hannah’s favorite, came on as she pushed the pedal to the floor. The engine shifted and the van lurched forward.
Silent night, holy night…
Moving into the other lane, she came even with the truck, but a pair of oncoming headlights suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.
…All is calm, all is bright…
Hannah slammed on her brakes and tried to swerve to safety, but her tires couldn’t grip the ice-covered road. The van swayed sharply and began to fishtail; headlights rushed toward her, blinding in their brightness.
…Sleep in heavenly peace…
She screamed as a sudden, gut-wrenching jolt threw her chest into the steering wheel. The unforgiving crunch of metal on metal clanged in her ears. Then she tasted blood, and everything began to spin around and around as her van shot over the edge and tumbled toward the bottom of the ravine.
…Sleep in heavenly peace.
CHAPTER ONE
August, nearly three years later
GABRIEL HOLBROOK FROWNED as he saw Mike Hill get out of his SUV and walk through the dappled sunshine toward the cabin. He’d known Mike would be paying him a visit. He’d been expecting it for more than a week, ever since he’d heard the Hill family’s sad news and attended the funeral. But he still wasn’t prepared. What was he going to say?
Mike’s knock sounded—as solid, decisive and determined as Mike himself.
Lazarus, Gabe’s Alaskan malamute, dashed expectantly to the door.
With a sigh, Gabe let the blind fall back into place at the front window and wheeled himself across the living room. It wasn’t as if he could pretend he wasn’t home. Mike knew, since the accident three years ago, Gabe hardly went anywhere.