Up to Snow Good - Kelly Collins Page 0,1

in the distance. The sun was bright in a sky speckled with fluffy, white clouds. There was no denying it was gorgeous, but it was frightening in its beauty. Summer weather surrounded her, and December had just begun.

Her father, Frank Matthews, swung his lasso over his head, looking the picture of the rugged cowboy that settled the country so many generations before.

He let out a “Yeehaw” to entertain the guests. He drew his weathered face into a craggy smile, a look that showed bravery and confidence even in the presence of a coming storm.

The little Reilly girl, Alice, and her family sat watching her father’s display, the lasso seeming to hover over his head, and then to his left and his right. They clapped and smiled and seemed to adore him in the same way Lauren always had. It was too easy to see herself in the little girl’s face. Amazement and pride filled her in equal measure.

A quick flash of worry and confusion replaced her father’s smile. The rope hit the ground as he took a single step back. His right arm pulled up to his chest, with his fingers clawing at his plaid shirt. A second step backward told Lauren he wouldn’t stay on his feet for long. She threw herself at him, arms out, mouth already twisting in panic.

“Daddy!”

She ran past the guests to her stricken father. A chill passed through her as he hit the ground. She wrapped him in her arms, and his head fell heavily against her shoulder.

“Dad, what’s wrong?” She wiped the sweat from his brow and stared into his eyes. They seemed to fade in front of her. Their vibrant blue turning to a soft gray.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice weak and wispy, “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, Dad.” She looked at their stunned guests while Mr. Reilly pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped on the screen. “Tell them to send the helicopter!”

Her father winced, his face contorting into a mask of pain. A second later brought calm as his muscles relaxed. “It’s okay,” he rasped.

“Be still and save your strength,” she told him.

He turned, looking past her to the property, but his focus seemed fixed. She moved to see, but there was nothing behind her that would have captured his attention.

“Judith?” Tears pushed out of Lauren’s eyes as he called to her mother. With clammy palms, she stroked her father’s graying hair. “I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart.”

Lauren knew then what her father was envisioning, what was happening to him. Their guests looked on as the sound of distant rotors moved toward them. They would come, but it would be too late.

“I can’t,” he said with a frightened shake of his head, “she needs me, you know that.”

His body shook again, and Lauren could almost feel the explosive agony in her own chest. Her heart burst along with his. He turned to look up at her, his body trembling, the cold sweat pouring from his forehead. She could already feel the chill overtake her, passing from his body into hers.

“It’s okay,” she said, tears burning her cheeks.

He looked past her again, and Lauren knew he was seeing her mother. She had returned to escort him home. “I can’t.”

A bittersweet smile crept across her face, and her vision blurred with tears. She wanted him to stay with her forever but knew it wouldn’t happen. Even though he was the last of her family, his final moments deserved to be peaceful and without a battle. He’d fought his whole life for what he had. He’d worked hard—too hard. Now his struggle was over.

She fought back the gasping and tears to say, “Yes, Dad, you can. Go to her.”

The Reilly’s were weeping along with all the guests who were collecting in a circle around them.

Patrick and Cindy ran from their hideaway in the stables toward her. Ruthie stood nearby, twisting her apron.

Her father looked up one final time, his brows strained, and eyes fading. “I’m sorry, so sorry.” His head slumped to the side, and his muscles relaxed.

Martha Reilly continued to cry while she buried her face into her husband’s chest. Pat and Cindy clung to one another too, but their sorrow could not compare to the paralyzing cold sweeping through every fiber of Lauren’s body.

The sobs came in uncontrollable waves, shaking her body, and twisting her face as they poured out. Mouth open, her voice rang out in a wordless wail as she sat bent over her father’s body, knowing she would