As if taunting her, a wolf howled in the distance.
Frantic now, Poppy went back to the sleigh and dug under the backseat, looking for a weapon. She brushed aside the snow accumulating faster than she liked. Had Oscar thought to bring a gun? Was it hidden away? If he had, she could figure out how to shoot, to defend against the wolves. Or to sound an alarm.
She’d grown used to her chattering teeth and hardly noticed anymore. Her thoughts were running like a river. She swept away more snow, still searching, still hoping, still praying. Realization dawned. She stifled the sob that clawed at her throat.
I’m stranded with no weapon, Oscar is dead, and surely, I’ll be dead soon too.
The falling snow was blocking out the light.
Their tracks. They had to have left some. If a rider came by now, perhaps they’d see the hoofprints and sleigh marks leading off the road and down the slope. Wouldn’t they?
She pushed herself up, ignoring the pain in her arm, and looked over the side the way they’d come. The signs were being erased by the falling snow. Their tracks were nearly gone. Covered. Soon no one would be the wiser to their plight.
Should she go for help? How far back was the Holcomb ranch? How much farther to Kathryn’s?
Poppy couldn’t remember. Her thoughts felt like scrambled eggs. Right now, the tipped sleigh was the only cover she had.
She pulled the blanket around her shoulders, trying to think. She wouldn’t last the night. She’d die, abandoning the children. And never know if her sister forgave her. Her mother and father would be crushed.
And Shad? Her heart quivered, remembering how gently he’d held her last night. How sincere he’d been, trying to sort out her feelings with Kathryn. She sat up, shivers taking over her body.
I’m not dying tonight—at least, not without a fight.
The horse struggled again, longer this time, his sides heaving from the energy he was expending. Perhaps there was some way she could release him and climb aboard. He’d run home to the livery.
Grasping the cold rail, Poppy pulled herself out and stepped down, sinking up to her knees. She pushed through the snow, and the gelding began to struggle again, frightened.
“Whoa, boy, easy now,” she crooned softly, thinking of the tall, expensive thoroughbreds she was used to riding.
She placed her gloved hand on his side, and his cold hide twitched. She was careful to stay far away from his hooves. He might be trapped, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t break her bones with a single kick of his powerful leg.
She inched forward, trying not to think about the cold, how fast she would drift off to sleep and never awaken. But she couldn’t do that. Not without freeing the horse. If he stayed here, he’d become a meal for the ravenous wolves. She had to unharness him for his sake, as well as hers.
“Easy now, fella.” She put out her glove. Enough slack remained in the lines that he could nuzzle her hand.
His large eyes blinked, and he struggled again.
She stepped back until he stilled. “Easy, now.”
She checked the harness, running her hand over the leather until she found a buckle. With both hands, she pulled up on the frozen strap, but it wouldn’t budge. The animal had so much weight pressed against the keep, unbuckling would be impossible. If she had a knife, she might be able to cut the leather, but unfortunately, she didn’t. Fighting her own rising panic, she felt along the frozen side poles of the rigging. She found another buckle with the same problem.
She couldn’t accomplish the rescue. The nice old gelding was stuck—just like her.
“Easy, sweet boy,” she said again through chattering teeth as she ran her hand down his sodden neck. He would most likely die here with her and Oscar, if Oscar was still alive. Why had they been so foolish to come out in this weather?
“Aaughhh . . .”
Poppy glanced over her shoulder to see Oscar moving, lifting his head to look around. He reached from under the blanket and scrubbed snow from his face.
“Ossy!” She hurried to his side and dropped to her knees to help him brush the snow away. “I thought you were dead.” Tears clogged her throat and eyes, but they were too frozen to spill out. His image swam before her. “Thank God you’re alive.”
“Wh-what happened?” he asked, his gloved hand slowly cupping his forehead.
“We had an accident. We’re down the hill where nobody will find us.”
“Down the hill?” He struggled to sit up but wobbled and flopped back down.
“Yes. Off the side of the road. A wolf spooked the horse. We careened down the embankment. We’re stuck. Don’t you remember anything?” She refrained from reminding him how they’d fought for the lines.
He stared blankly into the sky, and a new wave of fear blossomed inside.
“Oscar. We don’t have long to get out of here. If I help, can you climb the hill?”
Grimacing, he brought his gaze back to hers. “The pain in my head, and my side. I think my ribs are broken.” He looked at the climb and then shook his head. “I’d never make it.”
“Can you make it back into the sleigh? You’ll be warmer, at least a little. In a few hours, the light will be gone. Wolves are everywhere. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes. We’re going to die.”
Blood trickled from Oscar’s ear. He was seriously injured. Empathy for him pushed away her anger and fright. “After I get you to the sleigh, I’ll go for help. Maybe I can reach the farm, or go back to the Holcombs’. Either way, I’d better go soon.”
A wolf’s howl rent the snowy stillness, causing the gelding to struggle.
She and Oscar stared at each other.
“You wouldn’t make fifty feet,” he said weakly. “I think they’re waiting for nightfall. But you can bet they’re out there right now, watching as we speak.”
“Did you bring a gun, Ossy? Please say you did. I need to hear you say yes.” Her blood pounded in her head. “I’ve looked everywhere but . . .”
He didn’t answer.
“Ossy?”
“No. Thought we’d be to Kathryn’s in a few minutes. Sorry, Poppy, I let you . . .”
More howls went up as the area closed in from the falling snow.
The horse snorted, and pawed the snow.
Would anyone even come looking? Maybe June would put out word when they didn’t return with the sleigh. Would that be soon enough? And Shad? What about him? Anyone riding down the road wouldn’t be looking over the side.
“Shhh,” she said, “no need for apologies. Let’s get you to the sleigh.”
Poppy helped him roll to his side, and then dragged him to his feet. The span wasn’t far, but he could barely walk, and he leaned most of his weight on her. Once there, he collapsed and she tucked the blankets over him, keeping one for herself.
I must find a weapon. I must find something.
As she reached under the backseat one more time, her fingers touched something cold. She grasped and pulled.
A lantern! Crammed under the seat bench. The kind that’s meant to be hooked to the front of the sleigh on a romantic moonlight ride.
With shaking hands, she worked to get the light fixture free. Praying with all her heart, she lifted it to her ear and shook. Fuel, and a lot of it.
“There’s a lantern, Ossy,” she practically shouted with excitement. “I’ll light it and take it to the top of the hill. Maybe someone will come looking and see our signal. The lamp’s small, but at least it’s something.”
“But—the wolves. You can’t.”
“I must; it’s our only chance. I think they’ll be frightened of the light and leave me alone.” More for her sake than his, she briefly touched his arm.
Or they’ll attack and have me for supper. Either way, at least I will have tried.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
In the waning light of day, Shad ran through the semi-trampled snow of the boardwalk, concentrating on what he was doing so he wouldn’t hit any icy patches.
The snow began falling on his way back from Lichtenstein’s and was coming down heavier by the minute. As he approached the livery, the light in the window gave him hope.
Let her be there!
He shouldered open the stiff door. “June,” he shouted, wiping the snow from his face. The slot where June parked the sleigh was still empty. He’d hoped Poppy and Oscar would be inside. “June. You here?”
“Coming, Petty. What’s up?”
“Where’s the sleigh?”
June’s gaze cut to the darkened window and then back to his face. Her brows dropped down as she slapped her leg and frowned. “Dad-blasted fool. He said he was only going out for a few minutes. A few runs up and down Main Street. I lost track of the time.”
“Yeah, well, so did I. I was helping Brandon hunt for the looter of the mercantile. Turned out to be that fella staying at Lou’s. He was so thankful to see us when we showed up, to save his backside, he didn’t even resist. He sells what he steals to the miners, who pay him top dollar. Since he hadn’t made it out to the river, he hadn’t sold anything yet. When I returned to the hotel, Hildy said Poppy had gone out with Oscar, but that was all she knew.” He trudged down the barn aisle way. “I need a fresh horse.”
“You sure you want to go back out? Looks to be another big storm.” She pounded her arms wrapped around her frame. “By now, they’re most likely out at the Preece farm with her sister.”
“That’s what I think, as well, but I won’t have a moment’s peace unless I make sure. I don’t trust Oscar. I wouldn’t wager a plug nickel on him.”
She gave him a knowing look and nodded.
“Morgan around?”
“He left a few hours ago, and there’s no time to waste. I’ll ride with you.”
“No. You have to stay here in case I don’t come back.” He’d already finished saddling, so he checked his gun and took the rifle June offered.
“Be careful out there. You hear what happened to Uncle Pete?”
Shad nodded. “Justin will be showing up soon with the horses we rode. I left the chore to him to get back to the hotel. Felt something funny in my bones, and now I know it’s not so funny. Tell him what’s up. Maybe he can check out at the mill and the other road.”
“Will do. Watch for the snowdrifts and wolves.”
“You bet I will.” With that, he was out the door and on his way to the Preece farm.
Navigating the steep hill, Poppy held the lantern as high as she could, the dim light not helping much at all. Even though she feared the wolves, she knew the temperature was a fiercer enemy, because it kept dropping. The feeling in her hands and feet had long since passed.
In her other hand, she carried the only weapon she could find, a large stick the horse had uncovered from his pawing. Almost as tall as she was, the lance was devoid of branches and had a spear-like point. She could see the weapon belonging to an Indian brave.
She moved by rote force, pushing herself up the long uphill climb and then the short rise of the embankment. Trees and shrubs closed in on her, giving the wolves plenty of places to hide. She remembered the description Shad had given her of the large lead wolf in Y Knot as he walked out onto Main Street. The animal hadn’t been the least bit worried about any challenger. The depiction of his long yellow fangs was etched in her mind.
I mustn’t think of that beast. She felt as if someone tickled down her back with long, frightening fingernails. A shiver, and not from the cold, made her swallow. I have a mission. I can’t be distracted.
The lance and lantern grew heavy. Poppy halted, resting her arms. She’d only gone twenty feet, but it was becoming more and more difficult to climb in her wet clothing. She needed to get to the top of the ridge before she ran out of energy. Plant the lantern somewhere it would be seen and then get back to protect Oscar.
“Almost there. Keep going,” she whispered to herself. A flash of something from the corner of her eye made her start. She stopped, her heart kicking into her throat. She scanned the bushes not fifteen feet away.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered aloud, her words slipping out in an icy puff of breath. “There’s nothing else I can do. Keep going. Keep moving.”
She’d gained several yards when the horse neighed in fright. She could barely hear the thrashing of his legs as he panicked in the death trap created by the harness. She shivered so hard, her hands jerked forcefully, and she almost dropped the lantern. What was happening back there? She didn’t like to speculate.
Forcing herself to put one frozen foot in front of the other, she heard a sound. She tipped her head and pulled back the scarf wound around her ears, letting the icy snow drop inside her clothing.
A horse! Up on the road. She was sure. Although difficult to hear, the sound of muted hoofbeats moving at a fast pace made her want to cry with joy.
That’s what our gelding must have sensed. Why he’s struggling. Maybe someone was out searching for them.
“We’re here,” she called out, her untested voice barely scratching through her frozen throat. “Help!” she tried again. “We’re here, down the side. P-please stop.”
Whoever it had been was gone. Just that fast. Could be if they were headed to Kathryn’s to see if she and Oscar were there, they’d come back this way, since Kathryn’s road was a dead end. She had to get the lantern to the top of the embankment. If she didn’t go now, this instant, all might be lost.
With a new sense of urgency, Poppy forced herself up the hill. She held the lantern high and used the lance to push with. More movement, in the trees to her left this time. Were the wolves closing in? As she’d hoped, the lantern was keeping them at bay. For now.
Hurry; I must hurry. I have to have the signal out before the rider returns.
The final climb was before her. In her exhausted and frozen condition, the rise looked impossibly far, although the height couldn’t be more than twelve feet. She pulled in a strengthening breath. She’d made the fifty-yard trek from the sleigh, and was still alive. She had no option but to try.
Pushing the lance deep in the snow, she struggled upward, almost dropping the lantern when her foot slipped. Poppy gasped but kept going.
Standing at the top, on the road at last, she wanted to laugh and cry with joy. She clutched the lantern and lance close to her chest and slowly turned a circle in the falling snow. A chance existed, albeit a small one, that they’d be discovered.
Her frozen face stung like piercing needles were embedded in every inch as the wind whipped snow against her skin, but that didn’t rob her of her joy. With shaking hands, she laid down her lance and pulled the piece of string she’d been so happy to discover earlier out of her pocket, and inched over to a small pine tree. Being careful to find a hearty branch, one that could handle some weight, she fastened the lantern to the bough.
Please, God, send help. I don’t want to die.
The lamp swayed in the wind. She stared at the small yellow flame. She’d like to stay up here, to be ready if the rider came back. Anything was better than where she’d come from.
The horse screamed.
And this time she heard Oscar yell too, his words unintelligible, but they were laced with alarm and desperation.
I have to get back. I’m the only one they have.
She didn’t want to leave. At least up here, she was closer to Kathryn. Fear sliced through her. Ossy was unprotected. He had no weapon at all, and was still helpless from being thrown from the sleigh.
Choking back her dread, she turned, looking toward Kathryn and Tobit’s farm. “Please come, Shad,” she cried, her whole heart splitting in two. She felt sure he’d been the one that galloped by. “Please come, before it’s too late.”
As much as she hated to, Poppy lifted her lance and started down the embankment in what was left of the shadowy light.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Evelyn cried out, turning her head away from Margaret, who held a damp cloth in one hand and felt totally useless.
Lunchtime had come
and gone. The first few hours of Evelyn’s labor had been tranquil, with hardly a contraction. After sipping tea and eating a few nibbles of toast, she’d dozed on and off. She hadn’t said anything outright, but Margaret could tell she was worried about Chance. Evelyn wasn’t the only one who wished her husband would hurry and get home. Now, several hours later, her contractions had kicked in, and perspiration moistened her face.
Turning back, Evelyn grasped Margaret’s arm when she reached forward to wipe her brow.
“What?” Margaret sputtered in surprise.
“I want Chance,” Evelyn whispered. “Please. I want him here with me.” A shriek whistled through her clenched teeth, and her hair clung to her damp skin.
“I know, dear, I know. He’ll be here soon.” She reached over and wiped Evelyn’s forehead, and then moved lower to her cheeks to whisk away her tears. “I’m sure he’s on his way and will be coming through the door momentarily.”
Evelyn sucked in a breath and hiccupped. “No, he won’t.” She looked out the window. “He must have stayed at the Preece farm when the snow started. I’m scared. I want him here. With me.” After a sob of distress, she rolled away and hid her face in her pillow, her shoulders quivering.
Margaret had yet to check on the baby’s progress. She’d been hoping and praying Chance would return. In her mind, his experience with animals made him the better choice to assist his wife.
She glanced at the side table where she’d brought in all the supplies she thought they would need: a stack of soft towels, a pair of scissors that she’d run several times through the flames to cut the cord with, a bottle of iodine, just because she thought she might need it but she didn’t know what for, and the baby’s small cradle, sitting on the floor nearby. Looking at it now gave her courage to continue. Evelyn needed her, as did the baby. She’d take this one contraction at a time, and they’d get through. Beneath Evelyn’s back and legs, she’d layered several towels.
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