He would watch the sky and wait, Blake decided. If the weather showed signs of worsening, he would take the buggy at a fast clip and bring his wife home.
My wife. He was just beginning to think of her that way. Last night had felt unnatural, lying awake without the whispery sound of her sleeping in the next bed. He remembered yesterday’s conversation with Ruth, and the old biddy who’d probably eavesdropped on every word. By now, word of his sudden marriage would be all over Blue Moon. At least he hadn’t mentioned that Hanna was pregnant—although there was bound to be some speculation about that. But with Mason gone and Amelia in denial, the real secret should be safe enough. Still, he knew how vicious small-town gossip could be. He would do whatever it took to protect the girl he’d married.
By midday the wind had picked up. The cloud bank was rolling closer, dark and angry, like an army of goblins. Blake was watching the sky, thinking that if he meant to retrieve Hanna, he would need to leave soon; then Chuck, one of the three hired cowhands, came riding up to the house at full gallop.
He reined in below the porch, jerking the horse to a halt. “Boss, we got trouble! Fence down in the east pasture and two cows tangled in the barbed wire. If we can’t get ’em free, we’ll have to shoot ’em.”
Blake swore silently. This kind of trouble was the last thing he needed now. The cows in the east pasture were prime breeding stock, all of them pregnant. Losing even one would be a blow to the future, as well as the finances, of the ranch. “Have you got wire cutters?”
“Ferg’s got a pair, but we need somethin’ better. And them cows is fightin’ like crazy. Charley is off somewhere, so we’re gonna need an extra pair of hands.”
“Get the big cutters out of the shed and go. I’ll saddle up and be right there.” Going after Hanna would have to wait. Blake could only hope the storm would be a fast mover, gone in a few hours. But a look at the darkening sky told him otherwise.
He grabbed his heavy canvas coat and thick leather gloves, along with a high-powered rifle to use in case the worst were to happen. If an animal couldn’t be saved, the decision to destroy it would be made and carried out by the boss. That was ranch policy, but he dreaded the thought of having to shoot those beautiful cows.
By the time Blake reached the pasture, the storm front was in full fury. Wind howled in his ears. The first snowflakes, blown sideways, stung his face like buckshot.
Through the blur of whiteness, he could see the imperiled cows, one standing, one lying on its side. Both animals were thrashing and kicking. Their terrified bawling rose above the wail of the wind.
Blake’s heart sank when he saw how badly entangled the two cows were. Their struggles had wound the wire around their legs and bodies and driven the ugly barbs into their hides. If they weren’t freed soon, they would be too badly injured to save.
Dismounting, he dropped the reins and raised his voice above the wind and the bawling cows. “Give me the cutter. We’ll do the one that’s standing first. Both of you, hold her steady. Don’t let her kick.”
While the two men braced the cow, Blake crouched low and began to work, snipping through each strand of wire and peeling it carefully away to free the barbs from the cow’s flesh. With snow flying in his face, blurring his vision, the job seemed to take forever. But little by little, all the wire was removed, and the cow was standing on its own. “Put a rope on her so she won’t run off,” Blake said. “Then we’ll do the other one.”
The second cow, the one lying down, was even harder to free than the first one. As the minutes crawled past, Blake began to fear that he’d have to shoot her. But finally the last strand of wire was cut, the last barbs worked out of her hide. Freed, she staggered upright, but she was weak. From the looks of her, she might not last the day. But Blake wasn’t about to leave her out here for the wolves, coyotes, and ravens.
Exhausted and half-frozen, Blake pushed to his feet. Snow was flying around him, getting heavier by the minute. “Ferg, get on your horse and herd these two cows into the lower shed, along with any others you can find. Take a look at those cuts. The bad ones might need some salve. Chuck, you and I need to get the fence back up before the snow gets deep. Go get that coil of wire and the tools from the line shack. By the time you’re back, I should have this mess cleaned up. After all the cutting we’ve done, there won’t be much to salvage here.”
After the men had mounted up and vanished into the swirling snow, Blake bent to the task of gathering up the cut wire and sorting the pieces into two piles—reusable and too small for anything but scrap. There could be no leaving the mess for the snow to cover. Hidden, the sharp pieces could be deadly to an unsuspecting animal.
Standing to rest a moment, he gazed into the blurred whiteness of falling snow. Going to get Hanna now would be out of the question. Even if he could make it through the storm to the Anderson place, there was no way he could get her safely back home. For now, she’d be better off with her family. But he would be restless with worry until she was home with him again.
The posts for the broken fence lay at a low angle that would have allowed the sharp barbed wire to catch and trap any cow that tried to pass between them. What could have brought them down to that position? They looked as if they’d been pushed partway over, or roped and dragged.
No cow, or even a bull, would push them over and leave them like that. And this spot, on private land, was too far out of anyone’s way to have been accidentally knocked over. He remembered how Webb Calder had warned him that people would resent his hiring homesteaders. And only yesterday, when Ruth had learned about his marriage, she’d told him that he would lose friends because of it.
Things were beginning to make sense, but he didn’t like what he was thinking. Was someone trying to send him a message?
* * *
Hanna sneezed and wiped her nose with a handkerchief. If she’d known she was coming down with a cold, she would probably have put off her visit. Now, all she could do was try to keep a safe distance from her family.
Through the single window, she could see the swirling snowflakes, falling thick and fast. She’d experienced snow in New York—the kind of snow that turned the streets to dirty, frozen slush. But she had never seen a storm like this one. Wind and flying snow battered the tar paper shanty, whistling through the thinnest crack and threatening to lift the roof off its supports. Without the additions they’d made that fall, it would surely have blown the house to pieces.
The storm had moved in earlier that day, after Lars and Alvar had gone to work. There was no chance they could make it safely home in this murderous weather. They would have to shelter wherever they were.
As for Blake, who had planned to come for her tomorrow morning, there was little to no chance he would get here. For his own safety, she could only hope he wouldn’t try.
The men had taken the wagon and the two big Belgian horses. But the docile mare that Alvar had borrowed from the Dollarhides was still here in its stall. At least her father had built a stout front and a gate on the shed, so the horse would be safe; but someone would need to feed and water it in the morning.
“I’m scared, Hanna.” Eight-year-old Gerda had joined her sister on the bench, close to the warm stove. She huddled against Hanna’s side. “What if the wind blows the house down? What if the wolves come?”