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“We should keep looking,” Lou suggested. “We have a lot of shore to cover yet.”

“I can do it alone,” Zach tried again.

“If you were a horse you would have blinders on.”

“Dang it, woman.”

“I love it when you sweet-talk me.”

Zach gave up. There was no reasoning with her at times. She got something into her pretty head and nothing could change it. And she did have a pretty head. As well as a pretty face and a pretty body and the prettiest smile of any female ever born. “Just be careful, all right?”

“Dang it,” Lou imitated him. “Here I was hoping to give the first rattler we find a big hug.”

“Ornery wench.”

“Wench?” Lou repeated. “Did you just call me a wench? You’ve been hanging around Shakespeare too long.”

Zach grinned.

Lou beckoned to the geese and said, “Quick! Come here and take a look! He has honest-to-God teeth!”

Zach laughed, and felt his worry lessen. She had that effect on him. She always seemed to know just what to do to make him feel good. “Don’t tell anyone, but I love you.”

“Oh my. Does this mean you have designs on me?” Lou grinned and patted her belly. “Oh. Wait. You already did have designs.”

“You’re hopeless,” Zach said, and commenced to prowl among a jumble of rocks and boulders.

Louisa was pleased with herself. It took some doing to get him to not take things so seriously. Sure, he was serious by nature, but he had a wonderful sense of humor if he would only let it out more.

Lou came to a group of small boulders and carefully picked her way among them. She didn’t dare slip. A fall might cause her to lose the baby. She smiled in anticipation. Her very own son or daughter. She hoped it was a girl, but Zach hoped it was a boy. She wished there were some way to tell. She had asked Winona and Winona said that her people believed that if a woman was carrying the baby high, it was likely to be a girl, and if she was carrying the baby low, it was likely to be a boy.

Lou looked down at herself. She had barely begun to show. It was much too soon to tell if she would carry high or low. Another few months maybe. She stepped around a knee-high boulder and over an ankle-high slab of rock and was within a few feet of the water’s edge. She crouched and dipped her hand in and touched her wet hand to her neck and her forehead.

“What are you doing?” Zach asked from off a ways.

“Cooling off.”

“Be careful you don’t fall in.”

Louisa looked at him to see if he was serious, and he was. As if by being pregnant she must be clumsy. A sharp retort was on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it. She dipped her hand in again and this time took a sip. Across the lake to the south was Shakespeare’s cabin, figures moving near it.

Lou stood and wiped her right hand on her dress. With her rifle in her left hand she turned to catch up to Zach. She had to pass a couple of boulders that made her think of giant eggs. She was almost around them when a rattlesnake reared in a patch of shadow.

“Oh God,” she blurted.

The snake was big and thick and its eyes seemed to bore into her with wicked intent. Its tail began to buzz.

Lou almost bolted, but the rattler was too close. She thought of the baby, and of how sick a bite would make her even if she didn’t die. All that poison, it might harm the baby, might cause her to lose it. So she stood still, goose bumps breaking out all over.

The hideous head swayed in her direction.

Lou prayed that by not moving she wouldn’t provoke it. She wanted to look to see if Zach had noticed, but she was afraid to even move her eyes. The snake might strike.

The buzz of its tail grew louder. For some reason the snake was becoming more agitated.

What could she do? She could try to shoot it, but it was bound to bite her before she got off a shot. She had heard they were lightning quick. And besides, she wasn’t Zach. She couldn’t shoot without aiming. In the time it would take her to take aim the snake could bite her three or four times.

All Lou could do was stand there and hope. She began to sweat. She hated when that happened. Sweat made her feel sticky, and she wasn’t fond of how she smelled. Please, she inwardly prayed, just go away and leave me be. Their eyes met, or so it appeared to her, and a chill rippled through her clear to her toes. There was something awful, something alien about those eyes.

In her ears the buzzing rose to a crescendo. Although “buzzing” didn’t quite fit. It was more like the rattle of seeds in a dry gourd. Its tail was sticking up in the air and vibrating fiercely.

Any moment now.

Lou resigned herself. It was going to strike. She must be ready and try to jump out of the way. She knew she would still get bitten but she had to try. She also knew that if she slipped and fell on the boulders, she might harm the new life taking form inside her.

The rattler’s thick body was in an S, the head at the top of the S with the mouth parting.

This was it. Lou tensed and was on the verge of springing when the stock of a rifle flashed out of nowhere and struck the snake on the head with such force the reptile was flung against a boulder. It immediately started to coil and rear, but a moccasin-clad foot stomped on it just below the head, and the next thing, Zach bent and grabbed hold of the tail and began to swing the snake as if it were a rope. With each swing he smashed it against a boulder, again and again and again, smashing and smashing.

“Zach,” Lou said.

Zach didn’t hear her. He was making small animal sounds deep in his throat, snarls and growls as if he were a wolverine gone berserk. He swung and smashed and smashed some more so that the snake was turning to pulp.

“Zach?”

The snake was limp and had to be lifeless, but Zach suddenly slammed it down one more time and let go and drew his tomahawk. With a swift blow he separated the head from the body and then went on swinging, chopping the body to bits and pieces.

“Zach,” Lou said, and put her hand on his arm.

Zach stopped chopping. He looked at her, his eyes wild with savagery and his lips curled back so that he looked as if he was about to bite her. His face was flushed with fury and he was breathing hard.

“I think it’s dead.”

Zach glanced down. He slowly straightened. The savagery faded from his eyes and he slowly became his usual self. He stared at the gore on his tomahawk. “I think you’re right.”

“I’ll say one thing for you. When you kill a snake, you kill a snake.”

“It was going to bite you,” Zach said quietly.

“I know.”

“I couldn’t let it. I’ll never let anything or anyone harm you so long as I’m breathing.”

“No need to justify what you did.” Lou gently squeezed his arm. “You did what you had to. You always do what you have to.”

“That’s what a man does,” Zach said, and his voice was husky and almost hoarse.

“You do it well.”

Zach coughed again, and set down his tomahawk and took her into his arms. “God,” he said. “I almost lost you.”

Lou snuggled against him. She was still holding her rifle and it was pressed between them and gouging her, but she didn’t want to break the hug to set it down. She snuggled and kissed him on the neck, and said, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

“I know I can always count on you.”

“It was ready to strike. If I’d come a second later…” Zach stopped.

“It’s over.”

“From this day on I’m killing every damn rattler I see.”

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“You might have died.”