“You’re sorry?” Mary cried. She punched in Thom’s number and then Suzanne’s and got the same response. She tossed the phone back in her purse and waited. The Women’s Century Club was on the outskirts of Rose. On Christmas Eve, with an ice storm bearing down, the prospect of a good Samaritan was highly unlikely.

“Great,” she muttered. She might be stuck here for God knows how long. Surely someone would realize she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Still, it might take hours before anyone came looking for her. And even more hours before she was found.

With the engine off, the heater wasn’t working, and Mary was astonished by how quickly the cold seeped into the car’s interior. She tried her cell phone again and got the same message. There was obviously trouble with the transmitters; maybe it would clear up soon. She struggled to remain optimistic, but another depressing thought overshadowed the first. How long could she last in this cold? She could imagine herself still sitting in the car days from now, frozen stiff, abandoned and forgotten on Christmas Eve.

Trying to ward off panic, she decided to stand on the side of the road to see if that would help her cell phone reception. That way, she’d also be ready to wave for assistance if someone drove by.

She retrieved her phone, climbed out of the car and immediately became aware of how much colder it was outside. Hands shaking, she tried the phone. Same recorded response. She tucked her hands inside her pockets and waited for what seemed like an eternity. Then she tried her cell phone again.

Nothing. Just that damned recording.

Resigned to waiting for a passerby, she huddled in her coat.

Five minutes passed. The icy wind made it feel more like five hours. The air was so frigid that after a few moments it hurt to breathe. Her teeth began to chatter, and her feet lost feeling, but that was what she got for wearing slip-on loafers instead of winter boots.

A car appeared in the distance and Mary was so happy she wanted to cry. Greg was definitely going to hear about this! Once she got safely home, of course.

Stepping into the middle of the road, she raised her hand and then groaned aloud. It wasn’t some stranger coming to her rescue, but Sarah McDowell. Desperate though she was, Mary would rather have seen just about anyone else.

Sarah pulled up alongside her and rolled down the window. “What’s wrong?”

“Wh-what does it l-look like? M-my car broke down.” She wished she could control the chattering of her teeth.

“Is someone coming for you?”

“N-not yet…I c-can’t get through on my cell phone.”

“I’m here now. Would you like me to deliver the Christmas baskets?”