this road for the next seven miles or so. From there you’ll turn left on the road leading back to I-70, then that should put you on Trail Gulch Road. The railroad track runs parallel to Trail Gulch if you’re not familiar with the area.”
After telling the officer she was somewhat familiar with the area, Grace repeated the correct directions before he motioned for her to move on. When she saw there were no other vehicles heading in the same direction, she felt a bit creepy being alone on such a remote stretch of highway. Hope House was out of the way, she reminded herself, which explained why most of the other vehicles were traveling in the opposite direction.
Amanda muttered in her sleep, and Grace checked her rearview mirror again. It wouldn’t be a good time for the girls to wake up. Stephanie had told her about their intense fear of the dark. Without streetlights and the usual signs advertising Big Macs and Holiday Inn Express’s free breakfast, the two-lane road was totally dark, except for her headlights, which plunged forward into the night like two eerie cat eyes.
After ten minutes of slow driving, Grace checked her mileage. She’d only traveled three miles. Careful to monitor the odometer so as not to miss the upcoming left turn, she reduced her speed to fifteen miles per hour. When the van slid off the road onto the shoulder, Grace turned the wheel to the left, quickly guiding the vehicle back onto the slippery pavement. Her heart fluttered against her rib cage, and her hands were damp as she clutched the steering wheel while continuing to look for the turnoff. She checked her mileage again, surprised when she saw she’d already gone five miles. Taking a deep breath, Grace tried to focus on the road, but with the snow falling faster and heavier, it was becoming almost impossible to see more than a few feet in front of her.
Hoping to soothe her nerves, she adjusted the radio to a station playing cheerful Christmas music. Grace sang along with the familiar tunes, but stopped suddenly, fearing her off-key singing might wake the girls.
Realizing she must have missed the turnoff after she’d traveled another five miles, she stopped in the center of the road, telling herself it didn’t matter since she seemed to be the only one crazy enough to get lost on a back road when the weather was getting worse by the minute. Recalling the directions the police officer had given her, Grace did a three-point turn, checked her mileage, then slowly drove back in the direction she’d just come from.
Glancing from side to side as she retraced the miles and careful to watch the odometer, she still didn’t see any sign of a road where she could’ve made a turn, left or right. Continuing to clutch the wheel and occasionally glancing back at the sleeping children, Grace kept the routine up for another fifteen minutes before concluding that there was no turnoff. The police officer must have given her the wrong directions.
Wishing she’d upgraded to a van equipped with a GPS, she remembered that her cell phone had a less sophisticated version of one. She removed it from the side pocket on her purse. Instead of the welcoming green light that usually glowed, the small screen was as black as the night in which she was desperately trying to get home in. She tried to turn the cell off and on again. Nothing happened.
Her cell-phone battery was dead.
Wasn’t that one of the first rules she drummed into the women living at Hope House when she distributed the preprogrammed cell phones? Never allow your cell-phone battery to die because you never knew when you’d need to dial those three lifesaving numbers: nine-one-one.
But there she was, out in the middle of the night, with two little girls in her care, and no way to contact Hope House.
Deciding that the officer must have miscalculated the miles, Grace proceeded to drive down the two-lane highway, searching for an all-night gas station, anyplace where she could find a phone to call Stephanie to assure her the girls were fine. They’d been through so much, and Grace felt she was putting their safety at risk again.
After driving for what seemed like forever, it was after midnight when she pulled the van off to the side of the road. Fearing what she had to do, yet knowing it must be done, Grace leaned over the front seat and gently shook Amanda and Ashley until they were awake.
“Miss Grace,” came the sleepy voice of eight-year-old Ashley. “Where’s Mommy?”
Five-year-old Amanda perked up when she heard Ashley asking for their mother. “Is Mommy okay?” Grace heard the fear in their soft little voices.
“Mommy is just fine. She’s at Hope House, remember?” Grace knew she was stalling while trying to come up with a plan that would have no adverse effect on the girls.
Both wide-awake, they nodded.
“But we’re supposed to be home by now, aren’t we?” Ashley asked.
“Yes, sweetie, we are. I seem to have made a wrong turn, and I’m lost. I’m sorry, I don’t want to alarm either of you. I just need to make a call to your mother to let her know we’re safe, okay?”
Her words seemed to reassure both girls. Grace removed her jacket from the seat next to her. Slipping one arm at a time into the sleeves, she was glad she’d chosen the heavy parka since she was about to venture out into Colorado’s ever-dropping frigid temperatures.
“So why aren’t you calling?” Amanda asked with a trace of anxiety in her high-pitched voice.
Grace admitted to herself she was not the image of dependability and trustworthiness she’d presented to the girls when she’d convinced them a night away from their mother would be fun. In fact, she was just the opposite.
Reluctantly, Grace said, “I’m afraid my cell phone isn’t working.”
Over the top of the seat, two pairs of big brown eyes stared at her. Waiting.
“You can’t leave us here by ourselves, Miss Grace! Mommy says we’re never to be alone. Right, ’Manda?”
The younger girl nodded. “Yeah, Mommy says so.”
Saddened at the look of distrust on their small faces, Grace leaned over the seat and brushed her hands over both the girls’ heads. “Oh, girls, I would never leave you alone! What I meant to say is you’ll both have to come with me. We can pretend it’s a…treasure hunt. Whoever finds a phone first gets to pick out and decorate the Christmas tree any way she wants to. Deal?” Grace asked as she saw smiles light up their eyes.
“Deal,” they said in unison.
“Then let’s get your mittens, coats, and hats on. It’s much colder now than it was earlier.”
Grace bundled the girls up, grabbed a bottle of water and a flashlight from the glove compartment and tucked them inside her coat pocket, then draped her purse over her shoulder so she could take both girls by the hand. It wouldn’t do for her to lose contact with them. The snow was so thick, Grace could barely make out the van as they stepped away from its familiar safety.
Gazing up at the sky, Grace tried to determine which direction to head, but unlike the movies, there were no stars to guide her, nothing. She was on her own.
Deciding to walk uphill in the direction she’d been driving, she clasped both girls’ mitten-clad hands in her own as they trudged through the deepening snow. Every few minutes they would stop to catch their breath. The high elevation and the effort it took to walk uphill would strain even some of the world’s best athletes.
When they’d walked uphill for more than an hour, Ashley yanked her hand away from Grace and pointed
