She looked down at her watch and sighed. She still had thirty minutes to kill before she needed to get down to the bakery and start prepping for the day, but she didn’t see any reason to stand around waiting. Careful of the ice, she made her way to the van and climbed in, immediately regretting not getting the luxury package that included heated seats and a remote start.
Next year, she told herself even though she knew that she would never spend the money on something as unnecessary as heated seats when there was so much that they could do for the bakery with the extra money. She had plans to expand the bakery with more space, bigger and better equipment, ovens and an expanded menu. She would do it, but it was going to take time and money that they didn’t have right now.
Starting the van, she tripled checked the rearview mirrors as well as the side mirrors and just because of her unfortunate tendencies to run over the poor man next door who’d been going the extra mile to avoid her since Thanksgiving night, she triple-checked the mirrors again and even opened her door so that she could peek out and make sure that his truck was still parked in its customary spot and that he wasn’t walking towards it.
When she made sure the coast was clear, she breathed a sigh of relief, put the van in reverse and slowly backed out of the driveway. It wasn’t until she pressed the break all the way down to the ground and it didn’t stop that she realized that things were about to go bad.
She didn’t yell, scream for help or panic, because sadly, she’d been through worse. What she did was throw the emergency break on, press down harder on the break and braced herself for impact. Twenty seconds later it came. As far as accidents went, it wasn’t that bad, she mused as her seatbelt tightened around her, the van jostled just a bit and she sighed with relief when she realized that the old diseased apple tree that the Richmonds refused to cut down had stopped her.
Well, maybe the van had managed to knock it down, she thought hopefully as she carefully climbed out of the van and slowly walked towards the back to see the damage. Just a few small scratches and a slight dent that was barely noticeable. Not even worth bothering her grandfather about, she decided as she carefully turned around and slowly made her way back to the driver’s side door so that she could throw her hazard lights on and call triple A.
Man, it was cold, she thought with a shiver as she rubbed her hands together and reached for her phone when she heard it, the loud cracking sound that she knew was about to make her morning a lot more interesting.
And possibly more painful.
When the second crack came, she would admit that she became a tad bit concerned, but when she realized where the sound was coming from, she decided that it warranted a hysterical scream, a dive out of her van and an attempt to break a world record for the fifty yard dash.
Unfortunately for her, she forgot a few minor details, like the ice and snow covering the road and the fact that she wasn’t much of a runner.
Something that she swore that she would work on just as soon as she was able to climb out from beneath the large tree pinning her to the ground.
*-*-*-*
“Shit!” he snarled, throwing the front door open and jumped over the banister, uncaring that he was only wearing his boxers and that it was below freezing out.
As soon as he realized that the van wasn’t going to stop, he’d moved his ass. He’d rushed down the stairs, thankful that his brother and sister-in-law had left last night so he didn’t have to worry about knocking them over on his way to stop the aggravating woman from killing someone. Just as his bare feet hit the hard snow he heard it, the sounds that this simple accident was about to get a hell of a lot worse.
He didn’t stand around to wait and see the large tree snap in two or where it landed. He moved his ass, not caring that he was barefoot, it was freezing or that he could get caught under the tree that was currently falling over in sickening slowness. All he cared about was getting to the van before-
“Oh, fuck no!” he muttered, feeling his heart skip a beat as he watched helplessly as the large tree that used to shadow the rotted apple tree that was infested with bugs most of the year fell over. It slammed into the van, bouncing twice, doing more damage with each impact until it finally came to a shaky stop halfway on top of the van as the rest of the tree landed on the deserted street and the little pain in the ass that drove him out of his fucking mind.
“Necie!” he found himself yelling as he moved his ass, terrified out of his fucking mind that the little disaster finally ended up getting her ass killed. When he saw her dive out of the van only to be knocked down to the ground a split second later, he stopped breathing.
He jumped over a large branch, shoved another one out of his way and desperately tried to make his way to where he saw her fall down. When he saw her grey Dixon bakery sweatshirt, he didn’t think, he simply grabbed hold of it and pulled, which of course earned him one of those, “Ouchies!” that she seemed to love screaming so much.
Ignoring her screams for him to stop, he kept pulling, shoving at branches and grabbing whatever piece of clothing or body part that he could see thanks to the dim street light and didn’t stop until he had her out from under the tree and in his arms. Trembling, and not because he was freezing his balls off, he tightened his arms around her, got to his shaky legs and carried her back to her house. This time he felt every bite of ice and snow beneath his feet along the way.
She didn’t say anything as he carried her towards her house. Well, at least he didn’t think she did. Then again, she could have been screaming bloody murder and he wouldn’t have noticed, not with the terror that was surging through him.
Christ, she could have been killed, he realized hollowly as he opened her front door, absently shaking his head in disgust that she’d left the fucking door unlocked and carried her inside.
“You can put me down,” she said, sounding embarrassed, but he wasn’t really listening.
The image of that tree falling down on her kept playing through his head, turning his stomach and pissing him off along with the memory of watching her disappear beneath it.