Snowbound 28

I had just about had it. My boyfriend had cheated on me and I'd gathered all the evidence. And it was pretty damning. It had, of course, involved me snooping into his non-password protected iPhone while he was in the shower one morning.

And what an idiot, I had thought silently to myself. Because who, in this day and age, doesn't password protect their electronic devices?!?!

The evidence was easy to find, too. I didn't have to look very hard; the aforementioned texts to her were right there, pinned to the very top of all of his texts.

They were even pinned before mine.

I frowned as I quickly opened, then skimmed down the text thread. She was some girl named Amber, and according to my boyfriend's texts to her, she had perfect titties.

I clutched my chest at that. I was not a small breasted girl. But he had never said one thing nice to me before about my breasts.

My frown deepened as I scrolled down a little bit further, and bingo - this bitch's text thread included racy photos. I squinted my eyes and brought the phone closer to my face. Ha, I thought. Her boobs were considerably smaller than mine. I pursed my lips together as I looked. Ok, maybe they were a little bit more symmetrical than mine were, but whatever.

I threw his phone down onto the bed. To hell with slut shaming. If Jared wanted to send nasty dick pics to some skank with perfect tits, more power to him.

That was only emotional cheating, true, and it was bad enough - but then the physical cheating had begun. He started spending all his weekends at his great-grandmother's house to help her do chores and general things she couldn't do for herself anymore. At least that was what he'd told me.

What a joke.

And in the beginning I'd been such a fool that I'd believed him.

Judging from the content of the text messages exchanged between Jared and Amber, spending time with his old great-grandma hadn't been the case. Instead, Jared and this girl had met several times at some sleazy motel off of the highway where people only went for quickies and...for God only knew what else.

At least he hadn't spent loads of money on a nice hotel for her. He'd gone the cheapest route possible, short of fucking her in the back of his car behind a stinky dumpster at an abandoned rest stop.

At first I had been loathe to believe that he was cheating on me, and I'd kept the information to myself. But finally, one night after a particularly heated argument over whether or not we were ever going to get engaged, I got pissed at him and I presented Jared with my evidence. But he, like always, tried to talk me into thinking I was crazy.

"That's not what you saw," he scoffed, when I accused him of what he'd done. "She's just a coworker," he'd said. "Those were work texts."

I had just stared open mouthed at him for a few seconds.

"What?!" I finally said angrily. "Work texts?!" I growled. "Her name is Amber and you told her that she has perfect tits! She even sent you pictures of them!" My eyes narrowed and my finger pointed at him. "Since you sell cars, Jared, and you're not a plastic surgeon, I wouldn't think talking about boobs or getting boob pics on your cell phone would be a part of your job!"

But Jared had just waved me off dismissively and had turned to walk away.

"And, you've been spending your weekends with her!" I added, closely following him. "At that sleazy motel off the highway just south of town!"

He'd narrowed his eyes back at me. I could sense the gears turning in his little cheating head. He was thinking. Hard.

Then Jared surprised me and changed tactics altogether. He told me stories and spun ridiculous tales about my trust issues and had even implied that it was I who had been unfaithful to him.

"Whatever," he'd said. "You know, Ruthie, if I had a dime every time you cheated on me, I'd be a rich fucking guy."

"What?!" I'd screeched. He couldn't have any evidence of me cheating on him because I hadn't. I knew I hadn't done anything wrong...hadn't I?

I immediately shook that last thought out of my head. His manipulation had sometimes made me question the truth and he had convinced me in the past that I'd been the one in the wrong and not him.

Well, this trickery of his had worked on me in the past, unfortunately, but with this undeniable evidence that I had seen, he was now taking things a bit too far.

I had finally reached my limit.

I squared my shoulders and I took in a big breath. "Get out," I said.

His face morphed into an expression of absolute disbelief. "Of the apartment?" He said. "You can't be serious!" He scoffed.

"Oh, yes, I am," I said. "I'm leaving for awhile. And when I get back, I want you gone," I said, my voice quavering just a tiny little bit. But mostly I was proud of my resolve and strength.

Then he had frowned at me. "You want me to leave?" he said. "Why? You're the one that's pissed," he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him, and then I moved. He watched me, neither of us saying anything more. I could feel my face heating and my armpits prickling. I knew I was about to cry and I needed to put some space between us or...or...I didn't know what I'd do.

In righteous anger I had then stomped over to the front door coat closet, grabbed my jacket, and I'd stormed past him out the door and into a steady and cold November rain.

I heard the door open behind me. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?" He yelled after me.

I couldn't respond. I needed to run. Wordlessly, I got into my car, squealed the tires as I backed out of my parking space, and I quickly sped off.

I didn't even pay attention to the scenery or to the road signs as I angrily drove. I meandered around for a long time, and didn't even really pay any attention to where I was going. I did know, however, that I was getting deeper and deeper and higher and higher up into the mountains.

Then the tears began to fall.

I was embarrassed and humiliated, and crying about it was all that I knew to do. I sniffed loudly. I had invested so much of myself into this goddamn relationship - a good five years - and Jared had tanked it like it was nothing.

He'd torpedoed us just like a Navy submarine under heavy enemy fire.

I wasn't even aware I was ready to stop, but I finally ended my drive deep inside a nearby national park.

I slowed and parked my car at the deserted trail head. My eyes wouldn't focus on the scenery. Instead I sat in my car and I watched the rain run down my windshield in rivulets as the tears ran down my cheeks.

After several minutes of heavy sobbing, my tears finally slowed down to an errant tear dropping off my chin here and there.

"Enough," I choked out. "I can't cry over that asshole anymore," I said out loud to myself.

I dug around in my purse and I found a couple of tissues. I wiped the tears off my cheeks and chin, and then I blew my nose several times. I took a deep breath and I blew it out in a big huff.

I opened the lighted mirror in the visor and I put my hands back onto the steering wheel. Staring at myself with my red-rimmed eyes I said: "I am a modern woman. I am better than this," I said. I took a deep breath that ended in a deep sigh. "I also need a drink," I murmured. But since I had no alcohol in the car, that was impossible. "Okay," I said. "Instead, I need a walk," I mumbled.

Then, my heart still very much hurt, I'd snapped the visor mirror shut, gotten out of my vehicle, and I had determinedly set off on a mountain trail that I'd never been on before.

I sighed as my legs worked to propel me along. Walking was my go to. Whenever I walked, it always made me feel better. I did it whenever I needed to clear my head. And if ever there was a time to clear out my jumbled thoughts, now was that time. Unfortunately, I hadn't thought about what a walk right now actually meant.

I glanced up briefly at the sky. Thanks to the steady rain, I was soon both soaking wet and cold. I put the hood of my jacket up, but it didn't really do any good as my jacket was made out of very thin material and wasn't water resistant.

But nevertheless, I continued. I walked and walked and the trail climbed and climbed. Suddenly, and from seemingly out of nowhere, it began to spit snow. I looked up at the sky again and I shivered. I was really regretting now not grabbing my winter coat instead of my thin jacket.

I blew hot air into my cupped hands over and over, trying to keep my chilled fingers warm. I finally paused in my walk, glancing around at all the trees that surrounded me.

My eyes finally focused on the scenery. The views were beautiful: rolling green mountains with deep, picturesque valleys, the closest one even sporting a river that lollygagged on its slow journey to some far-away sea. But the sheer emptiness around me was starting to concern me. "I'm really out in the middle of nowhere," I said out loud to myself.

And in fact, I hadn't even seen any other hikers on the trail. I made a face at that thought, though. It was most likely because of the hinky weather.

I took a second and I glanced upwards again. The sky was a hard, steel gray, and it was now snowing even harder. The snow was even beginning to stick to the ground around my feet. The wind had steadily picked up since I'd begun my hike. Even worse, it was now starting to get dark.

I questioned the sanity of my choices, and so I turned around a few times and I trudged on, in the direction that I thought was taking me down the mountain and back to my car. But the trail had split a little while back, and the path I now took somehow didn't look familiar to me. The terrain was rougher. Small pebbles and rocks caused me to slip and then to slide sometimes on the trail's steep grade.

Even worse, I had left the house in such a rush I hadn't even brought my cell phone with me. Most likely I couldn't have made a call, given the probable lack of cell phone service out here, but this also meant that I had no flashlight. Minutes passed by and it got steadily darker. The snow kept falling and I kept shivering.

All of a sudden, I stepped into a small hole full of water. My right ankle twisted horribly, and I went down immediately to my hands and knees and onto the wet ground.

"Ow!" I cried out on a gasp, my eyes suddenly widening. I'd never felt pain like the pain I was in. It was sharp. It was blinding. I panted a little as the pain slightly abated. I groaned loudly as I tried to move my ankle. Clearly it was better if I didn't move it at all.

It took me a second to stop seeing stars from behind my eyes. I angrily brushed the accumulating snow off of the top of my jacket's hood with my bare hand. It had already partly melted and sloppy ice and water had gone right down and had glooped right into my face.

I sat there and I debated over what to do. I had no choice but to walk to get back to my car. I glanced around at my surroundings. Slowly I crawled to a nearby tree with a big, dipped branch, and I used it to help me to stand. Stand I could, putting all my weight on my good foot, but it was evident that I wasn't going to be able to walk. It hurt too much to put any weight on my damaged ankle. When I tried, the pain that erupted from that act took my breath away.

I sank back down onto the cold and wet ground, the seat of my pants and my knees now completely soaked. A warm tear slipped down my face. "Help!" I whispered. But it was ridiculous. I was ridiculous. I was as alone as a person could be. Nobody was anywhere around me, and no one could hear me.

I was pretty much fucked.

"Help!" I cried out again, this time a little bit louder.

The wind only blew harder and whipped the still-falling snow into my face.

Realization of just how dangerous the predicament I was in began to dawn on me. "I'm going to be out here all night, aren't I?" I said out loud to myself. Even worse, nobody knew where I was. Hell, even I didn't know where I was.

Those horrible thoughts settled like a lead weight inside of my chest.

"What if it gets so cold out here that I freeze to death?" I mumbled to myself, shivering. Or even worse, what if a wild animal came by? Like a hungry wolf? Or an angry bear?

I suddenly felt a rush of determination flow through me. I had to try to help myself. I couldn't just give up. I refused to be wild animal food. I tried again to stand, but the lightning bolt of pain that shot through my ankle cured me of that fantasy, and fast.

I was now back on the ground. The tears fell more readily now. I couldn't help it. I was a sniveling mess. I was alone, stuck right where I was, and with no way to get home.

It had now gotten very dark. I shivered again in the quiet of the snowfall.

Time passed very slowly for me. I clutched my thin jacket as tightly around myself as I could, but I still shivered intermittently. I wasn't sure how long I sat there. An hour? Two hours? Time seemed to be running differently than normal. Despite wearing a watch, I couldn't see it in the darkness. And it was cold. So very cold.

Eventually, I just sat with my eyes closed. I soon caught my head doing a quick bob downward. I shook my head and blinked my eyes. Had I just dozed off for a second? I was no expert, and I couldn't really be sure, but I figured going to sleep out here was probably a bad idea.

What I did know was that just then my slitted eyes flew open as a sound caught my attention. Suddenly, I was hearing noises other than any that were coming from me. I listened hard. It didn't sound like an animal moving. It sounded like human footsteps crunching loudly on loose gravel and wet snow. I began to look around for the source of the sounds, but it was too dark for me to see anything.

Suddenly, the light from a flashlight approached along the path, then the footsteps abruptly stopped. The flashlight shined right into my eyes. Instantly my hand shot up to block the very bright light.

Yes...it was...someone!

I'd been found!

Bless Jared! He'd called the park service having somehow figured out where I was and through his actions I was now going to be saved!

"O-over here! H-help me!" I cried out, waving my arms around. I could barely get the words out, my teeth were chattering so badly.

A rough-looking man in hiking boots and wearing a bulky parka approached, stopped, and then knelt down in front of me. He looked absolutely dumbstruck to see me sitting there on the ground.

We couldn't have been dressed more differently. He had on thick, leather work gloves, and he had his hood up and secured tightly so that just his face peeked through the hole that it made. His nose and lips were red, but he mostly looked toasty and warm in his long, olive-colored winter coat.

"What the fuck are you doing out here?!" He said in great surprise. "Don't you know the temperature is going to go way down below freezing tonight?" He scolded me soundly in his deep voice. "Damn city campers," he muttered.

Probably this guy wasn't a park ranger, I thought, realization dawning.

"I...I, um, I'm n-not c-camping, but I do h-have a p-problem," I said, my teeth clacking together in the cold as I spoke.

"You mean you have a worse problem right now than freezing to death?" He asked me, astonished.

I flushed but nodded. "Well...yeah. It's m-my ankle. I think I t-twisted it," I said. "And I can't w-walk."

The man narrowed his eyes at me. "Twisted it?" He confirmed.

I nodded as a full-body shiver wracked me.

"Fuck," he muttered quietly. "Okay. Well, here, try to stand up," he said, helping me by first standing up himself and then by hauling me up from under both my armpits. At once I was standing on my good foot and leaning against his strong body for support. "Can you put any weight on it?" He asked me.

I tried, but the pain was another lightning bolt to my ankle. I even doubled over, the pain was so bad. "Ow!" I cried. "No, I c-can't. It hurts too b-bad!"

"Hum," he said thoughtfully. "Well, I can't really carry you," he decided, looking me over. I was a normal sized girl, nowhere near a svelte 110 pounds. Besides, he had several thick logs of wood just barely sticking out of a pack on his back. I assumed he'd been out cutting or gathering firewood, and that meant he was already carrying something heavy. Even if he ditched the pack he wouldn't have been able to carry me. "We don't have a lot of options here," he went on. "Do you think you can hop on your good foot?" He asked.

I nodded with a sniffle. "I t-think so," I said, knowing that I had no other choice.

"Here," he said, turning me around, "this way," he said. He wrapped an arm around the back of my waist and I was able to use his body for support.

We moved slowly along the trail with me having to hop. I'd stop every once in awhile to catch my breath and to rest my good foot. I wasn't sure where we were going, but even I could tell after a short while that the trail we were on was going uphill.

"W-wait. We're not going d-down the mountain?" I asked him, glancing around, confused. "That's w-where my c-car is."

His eyebrows rose and he shook his head. "No. No way. This is gonna turn into a big snow squall, the roads are already wet, temperatures are going to drop, and everything's going to freeze. My cabin is a little ways up here and just off this trail," he said. "That's where we're headed," he added.

I hesitated, but nodded.

He steadied me with one arm around my waist as we trudged on.

Because I could only hop, it took forever to reach his place. I drew some semblance of warmth from where our bodies touched at my hip, but it wasn't nearly enough. My lips were chapped and snot was semi-frozen to my upper lip by the time we got to where we were going.

But when I saw the small log cabin emerge through the trees, my eyes went wide and I forgot myself for just a second.

"Oh!" I gasped.

The little one story cabin was all lit up on the inside, and it looked like something out of a wintery fairy tale. The new falling snow had stuck to the roof and also to the grass in the front yard. There was a porch that held a decent sized wood pile along with two oversized wooden rocking chairs. I would have found the cabin charming even if I hadn't already been lusting for its warmth and shelter.

The man helped me hop up the front steps and pretty soon we were inside.

The first thing I noticed was the heat - if the cabin was anything, it was warm. The air inside smelled like food, like someone was right now cooking something tasty in the kitchen. The sheer heat of the cabin surprised me. I hadn't realized just how very cold I was.

The man tossed a throw blanket down over the seat cushion, and then he helped me to sit down on a 1970's, yellow-flowered, overstuffed chair. He handed me a box of tissues as he frowned at the snot that had collected on my upper lip.

He then went over to stand by the dying fire. He grabbed the poker and he stabbed it into the smoldering hot coals. As he did this, the fire suddenly came back to life, small red flames jumping and casting strange lights and shadows in the otherwise small living room. He added some more dry wood from a pile next to the hearth to the tiny blaze and it jumped even brighter.

He grunted satisfactorily. He glanced back at me. "Be right back," he said.

He quickly left me and I heard him drop off his wood pack out on the front porch. When he came back inside, I shivered as he brought along with him a gust of freezing wind.

He took off his gloves and unzipped and shook his parka down his arms as he eyed me suspiciously. He hung his coat on a wooden peg by the front door. Then he untied and toed off his boots.

"You're not from the government, are you?" He suddenly asked me, his eyes narrowing.

I blew my nose into the tissue and I wiped at my upper lip with numb fingers as I barked out a laugh. "The government? Well, I work for the Bureau of Motor Vehicles, renewing drivers licenses and stuff like that," I told him. "So, yeah. Kinda," I said.