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“Whatever’s wrong with me?” She laughed aloud, then said in a firm voice, “Girls, it’s time for your studies. If we get our work done now, we can play in the snow when the storm blows over. Get your books and slates.” Dru gave Petula another quick hug, then patted the child’s behind as she shooed her toward the table. In a matter of minutes, Rachel had the children poring over their school work, their anxiety fading as they concentrated on other matters. Dru closed her eyes as she set her chair rocking. The children’s voices were comforting as they asked their teacher questions. She listened to Rachel’s replies. The young woman was intelligent and patient. She’d put aside her own concerns about Gavin and made sure the children weren’t worried. She would be good for them. Always. I was right about her, Charlie. She’ll make a good mother for them when I’m gone. And I think she’s already falling in love with our Gavin. She frowned. But he might be a problem. Wish I knew what was troublin’ him so. Did I do wrong in asking’ him to raise our girls once I’m gone? She opened her eyes and gazed out the window at the blizzard raging beyond the glass, worry returning to gnaw at her insides. Gavin groaned as consciousness returned, bringing with it a terrible throbbing in his head. For a moment he was disoriented, but when he turned his head, he felt the straw scratching his face and smelled the pungent odors of the barn. He groaned again and rolled onto his back, his fingers gingerly touching the back of his skull. He opened his eyes, then sat up.

“Damn,” he whispered as the pain increased. He heard a snort behind him.

“If I didn’t need you to pull the wagon, I’d plug you between the eyes right here and now.” The big work horse snorted once again. Gavin twisted toward the animal, which was calmly munching her hay on the other side of the stall. The movement caused hot darts to shoot up the back of his neck.

“Damn,” he swore again. As he pushed himself to his feet, he tried to piece together exactly what had happened. At first, it was hard to concentrate beyond the throbbing in his head, but slowly the memories fell into place. He’d finished tending the horses and Sabrina’s orphaned calf, then checked on Petula’s kittens up in the loft. By the time he’d climbed down the ladder, the snowfall had become a raging blizzard. He’d known he would have to wait it out and had decided to

work on some harness to pass the time. As he was passing old Patch’s stall, the big piebald had kicked at him through the wooden slats, catching her hoof in the broken board. Gavin had entered the stall and worked the animal’s leg free, only to have the horse wheel on him and strike again.

“You’d make great buzzard feed.” The piebald looked at him with bored eyes. A wave of dizziness washed over Gavin, and he stepped backward, leaning his back against the wall as he waited for it to pass. He wondered how long he’d been unconscious. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he started toward the stall gate. His steps were uncertain and wobbly, and there seemed to be a curtain of darkness just beyond his vision, waiting to drop over him at any moment. Just outside the stall, he stopped to rest again. He felt weak and foolish. It should take more than a wallop from Patch to knock the stuffing out of him. Lord knew, it wasn’t the first time he’d been kicked by the cantankerous beast. Yet weak and foolish was exactly how he felt. He wondered if he could make it back to the house. He felt an overwhelming need to lie down until the weakness passed once and for all. Cautiously, he moved forward again, using his hand to balance himself as he grabbed whatever was in reach. The floor seemed to swell and drop beneath his feet, like the rise and fall of the ocean beneath a ship. Unexpectedly, it rose up in a giant wave to meet his face. Rachel tightened the rope around her waist.

“Do you understand the signal then?” she asked as she turned to meet Dru’s anxious gaze.

“Two tugs means to pull me back. That’s only if I can’t find the barn or if I get into some sort of trouble. Four tugs means I’m in the barn. If you get four tugs, just tie off the rope. We’ll use it to find our way back if Gavin thinks we should. Otherwise, we’ll just wait in the barn until the storm’s over.” Dru touched Rachel’s coat sleeve.

“He isn’t going to like it that I let you do this. I’m sure he’s just working in the barn until the weather clears.”

“Probably.” She offered the woman a reassuring smile.

“I’m sure he’ll scold me soundly, and then I’ll be stuck with a man in ill temper until the sun comes out. And it’ll serve me right for being so silly.” Rachel wished she believed what she was saying. It made perfectly good sense, and both she and Dru had used the same logical excuse for Gavin’s tardy return to the house a number of times over the past couple of hours. If she had been the only anxious one, she would have dismissed the nagging feeling that something was wrong. But she wasn’t the only one. Dru felt it too, although she’d tried to hide it for a long time. With a deep breath for courage, Rachel tightened the scarf around her head and pulled open the door. The wind blasted against her. Shards of snow stung her cheeks. She leaned forward and stepped outside.

“I’ll be all right,” she hollered over the wind as she headed in the general direction of the barn. In seconds, the house had disappeared from sight. She was surrounded by nothing but white. She touched the rope around her waist, reassuring herself that she wasn’t alone and lost, then struggled forward, her feet sinking into drifts of snow, not knowing where she was headed. She could have been moving in tiny circles for all she knew. She had no sense of direction left to guide her. There was no up or down, right or left, forward or back, night or day. There was only snow. Snow, snow, and more snow. It was a terrifying feeling.

She was cold. The blowing snow stung her face, and she bent her head forward to avoid the tiny missiles. Already she felt as if she’d been walking for ages. She paused and looked down at the rope. Two tugs and they would pull her back to the house. Just two tugs and she could be warm again, safe within the walls of the sturdy log house. But I still wouldn’t know about Gavin. She pressed forward into the storm. is it really so far from the house to the barn? It hadn’t seemed so before. Perhaps she should turn and try another direction. Perhaps she was headed the wrong way. And then, it was there before her. She reached out and touched the board siding of the barn, working her way along until she found the door. With a hammering heart, she lifted the latch and tugged at the door. Drifting snow had piled up against it, making it impossible to open. She kicked at the snowdrift, then leaned down to dig with her hands. For every inch she swept away, two more seemed to land in its place. Finally, her fingers numb with cold, she was able to clear enough snow to pry open the door and wedge her way through. As she stepped inside the barn, she gave the rope four distinct tugs, then let the door blow closed behind her. She saw him almost immediately, lying face down in the straw.

“Gavin!” With fumbling hands, she loosened the knot on the rope at her waist. Breaking free, she hurried toward the quiet form on the barn floor.

“Gavin? Gavin, what’s wrong?” Rachel knelt in the straw and grasped his shoulders, rolling him onto his back and pulling his head into her lap.

“Gavin?” she said again, whispering this time.

“Gavin?”

Chapter Twelve

“Gonna kill that horse,” he mumbled. Rachel leaned forward.

“What, Gavin? What did you say?” His eyes opened slowly. He looked up at her with a glazed, unfocused expression. But when he spoke, his voice was clear this time.

“I said I’m gonna kill that horse.” And then he grinned, followed by a wince and a groan.