“Shit!” I yelped as a doe ran out in front of me, followed by three of her friends. Fighting the instinct to slam the brakes, I pumped quickly and swerved at the last minute to avoid the fifth deer. Darn straggler.

My back end came around, sending me down the path sideways.

“A little help here,” I shouted to whoever might be listening, using every skill I had to get myself out of the slide.

I slid right off the road, and the side of the mountain suddenly felt much more death trap and much less home. If I slid much farther, I’d fall a good three hundred feet and end up in Dad’s backyard.

The tires gripped for a millisecond, and I took advantage, pulling the wheel hard, only to hit a set of boulders even harder.

The impact jerked my entire body, but it was pretty anticlimactic as far as car accidents went.

“Fantastic.” I let my head fall against the headrest for a second, hoping the adrenaline would cycle out and calm my racing heart.

The headlights shone but only tracked the snow as it streaked from the sky. If I hadn’t known the terrain, I’d have no clue if I were in the field or on the edge of the drop-off before the switchbacks that led to the Rose Rowan Mine.

I put the car into reverse and went nowhere, so I stopped before I spun myself even deeper.

My cell phone had 70 percent battery, and my tank was half full, so at least I had that going for me. It took me a few minutes to get the canvas tow straps I kept in the back seat looped around my waist at one end and tied to my seat at the other. Once I was tethered to the car, I grabbed the bag Dad had preached about carrying since I was little and put on a thick winter hat and spare gloves.

“Seriously, is this karma for sticking up for your brother?” I asked Sullivan. Naturally, he didn’t respond. I wasn’t nuts.

I mentally prepared myself for this to suck, zipped my coat to my chin, then got out of the car, carrying the bulk of the strap with me and quickly shutting my door to keep the snow out. It was deeper up here, coming almost to the top of my boot.

My very thin, not-snow-friendly boot.

Ignoring the biting cold, I crouched and used my cell phone as a flashlight to inspect the damage.

The front left had taken the impact, leaving me with a flat tire and a busted rim. I cursed softly. Without the snow, it would have been a hell of a spot to change a flat, but with the snow, it was impossible.

I was so freaking screwed.