Private North Read Free Page B

driving through a Northeast winter. The icy roads and blinding snow were always stressful. Fortunately, I’d been hardened some by the nightmarish tangle of freeways and traffic in Los Angeles. But the scenery here was much more enjoyable. Spindly, winter-worn trees covered in a crystal white flocking lined the highway. Except for the occasional cherry red barn or brick house, it felt as though I was driving through a black and white picture.
    In my quest to make sure to pack well for winter weather, I’d forgotten my toothbrush. But I’d been well past town before I’d thought of it. I kept an eye out for a store of some kind. Even people who lived in the remote mountain areas needed amenities like toothbrushes.
    My phone had not rung since my conversation with my dad, and I was rather surprised and almost a little insulted that none of my brothers had called to try their hand at persuading me to come home.
    As thrilled as I was about the prospect of sorting through artifacts, I was more than a little nervous to be working with Ethan North. He was a grad student and therefore hung out in much different circles than me. I didn’t know much about him except that he was a major head turner, and he’d had a long, tumultuous relationship with a rich, beautiful girl named Veronica. The last rumor I’d heard was that she’d moved back to New York to marry someone more to her family’s liking. I assured myself that if he was anything like his wonderful, mild-mannered father, he’d be easy and pleasant to work with. And, I was fairly certain I could work productively without crumbling into a shy, giggling school girl.
    The professor’s directions sat on the passenger seat, and I glanced down for a second to make sure I hadn’t missed any turns. As my eyes lifted, a tall figure popped up in front of the car. “Shit!” I pulled the wheel sharply to the left. My car spun around and careened into the bank of snow lining the road. In my haze of horror I convinced myself that I’d pissed off my mom and now I was going to pay for it by going to jail for manslaughter.
    I opened the door and jumped out into the knee deep snow. I pressed my hand against my chest to keep my heart from jumping out. All I could see were two large feet and what appeared to be an artistically carved walking stick.
    “Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead,” I muttered through sobs as I trudged quickly over the icy road to the person. “Please don’t be dead.” I rounded a mound of snow and my racing heart dropped into my stomach. A large man was lying face down in the snow. “No, no, no,” I cried. My fingers shook as I pulled out my phone. As my fingers flew to the key pad, the crunchy bed of snow shifted and the guy pushed up to his hands. His broad shoulders had left behind a massive snow angel imprint.
    “I’m not dead so you can put away the phone,” he growled without looking back at me. He shook the flakes of snow out of his long black hair and pushed back to his knees.
    Every inch of me still trembled with the shock of thinking I’d killed someone. I shuffled through the loose snow and grabbed hold of the duffle that had flown from his hands as I hit him. I carried it over to him. “Are you hurt? I’ve never hit anyone with a car before,” I said shakily.
    He winced in pain as he pushed back to sit on his knees. “Then your record remains solid.” He lifted his face and stared up at me with mint green eyes that would have been cold and harsh in any other face. Instead, his unsettling gaze sent a warm shiver up my spine, and my parka suddenly felt a bit too warm. He looked at me for a long silent moment, which did nothing to help my unease. “You didn’t hit me. I managed to dive out of the way before you plowed into me.”
    I cry of relief bubbled up from my chest. “Oh, thank God. Did you hurt yourself diving into the snow? You look like you’re in pain.”
    “Yeah, I’m in pain. But it’s not from your crazy