“Just let her be okay,” I begged. I hadn’t asked if she was injured because it wouldn’t have made a difference. I could only get there as fast as possible, and I was already doing that.

I zipped my phone into my pocket and turned the snowmobile down the ridge, giving the Cat some throttle. It was a damn good thing I knew this land like the back of my hand, because visibility was shit, and what I could see hid the dips and rises that could get me into some major trouble.

Not that we weren’t already in trouble.

I passed the grouping of pines that marked where the road turned, and a pair of streaming headlights came into view.

“Thank you,” I whispered into the gator that covered my mouth, then carefully made my way down the slope.

Damn, she was close to the cliff. I blocked out everything that could have happened and focused on what did as I left the engine to idle and climbed off.

“No,” she promised with a shake of her head. “You came all the way in this on the snowmobile?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t cutting across the property in the Jeep, and to be honest, I probably wouldn’t have made it. I don’t know how you made it.” Snow hit the exposed back of my neck as I leaned in.

“I didn’t. Hence me calling,” she admitted with a sheepish crinkle in her nose. “I’m so sorry you had to come.”

“I didn’t have to, Willow. I chose to.” That was partly a lie. Sure, there was some freewill argument to be had, but all my choices when it came to Willow had been made decades ago. She called. I came. It was that simple. And that complicated.

“The front left tire is flat—” she started.

“Doesn’t matter. We can’t get to it in this anyway. Now, let’s go. The snow is only getting deeper.” I scanned her frame as I talked, taking in her hat, coat, and gloves, down to— “Holy shit, are you wearing a skirt?”

That crinkle was back. “Well, yes. I was—”

“Again, doesn’t matter. Shit. Wait here.” I closed the door and pivoted to face the Cat. Unbuckling the saddlebags was a pain with my gloves, but I wasn’t risking losing them in this. I’d get frostbite before we could make it back to the house.

I yanked my old set of spare riding pants and sent a quick thank-you Uncle Cal’s way for not having cleaned them out of the under-seat storage. Then I snapped the strap and freed the extra helmet I’d brought her and walked back to her door.