Snow Angels Read Online Free PDF Page B

children feel as comfortable as possible. In some cases, a few of the women-only Christmas celebrations had been at Hope House. She prayed Stephanie would stay put until she could get word to her that the girls were fine and not in danger. Or at least not in any danger from the man that they’d been running from when they’d been brought to her doorstep by a police officer. Husband and father. It made her cringe just thinking of what the women at Hope House had gone through before they arrived. She was committed to doing whatever was humanly possible to assist them in turning their lives around. Being stuck on a mountain was simply a bump in the road compared to what they’d been through.
    Lost in thought, Grace was about to sneak a quick glance at her host when everything went black.
    “It never fails,” Max said in the darkness. “I’ve got flashlights and candles somewhere in here.”
    Grace heard him opening and closing drawers. Rummaging through a few, he found what he was looking for when a thin beam of light illuminated the small space between them. “I’ve got a generator in the shed out back.”
    “That’ll help,” Grace said as she inched her way to the kitchen table.
    “Yeah. I’ve never used it. Never had a reason to.”
    Grace wanted to ask what he normally did when the power went out, but she heard his heavy footsteps bounding up the stairs before she could get the words out of her mouth. Instead, she ran a hand along the countertop until she found a small box of matches beside a box of candles. She lit one, then another, placing both candles bottom side down on the counter while she searched for something to use as a holder. Searching the cabinets, she found a rock glass that would serve her purpose. Putting the candles in the glass, she headed toward the stairs to check on the girls when a gust of icy air blew in from an open door, extinguishing her light.
    She heard a door slam. Grace called out into the darkness, “Max?”
    When she didn’t receive a response, she called again. She heard the apprehension in her voice when she spoke. “Max, is that you? I…never mind.” Wishing she’d brought the box of matches along for such an emergency, Grace inched her way back to the kitchen. Maybe Max hadn’t heard her , she thought as she skimmed the surface of the countertop searching for the matches. When her fingers brushed against the small box, she grabbed it like a lifeline. Striking two matches at once, she relit the candles, and was relieved when the room flickered with their soft golden light. Tucking the matches in her pocket, Grace went back in the direction of the stairs when she heard a noise. Something creaked, like hinges on a door.
    “Max? I don’t think this is funny.”
    She stopped in the center of the den, waiting for a sarcastic comeback. Getting no reply, she yelled, “Max” so loud she was sure she’d wake the girls. Feet rooted to the floor, heart rate accelerating, even though the room was chilled from the burst of cold air, Grace felt perspiration dot her forehead.
    Becoming increasingly uneasy as the seconds ticked away, Grace tried another strategy. Using a stern voice usually reserved for the fearful women she dealt with, she called out, “Mr. Jorgenson? Max? If this is some kind of game, I don’t want to play.”
    Standing still, she heard the floorboards above her creaking. No doubt her shouting had awakened the girls. Putting her anxiety aside, she carefully made her way up the unfamiliar staircase. When she reached the top, she raced to the master suite to check on Amanda and Ashley.
    She remembered leaving the door open when she’d left the room earlier. Now it was closed. Maybe the gust of air from the door’s opening downstairs had somehow caused it to close. Telling herself this must be what happened, she turned the knob, careful not to make too much noise in case the girls were still sleeping. Pushing the heavy log door aside, she stepped into the large