Page 12 of Storm in Montana (Montana Becketts, Wild Spirit Ranch #3)

Cody Beckett pulled his collar tight against the chill, his eyes scanning the white expanse where their cattle grazed. Beside him, Nathan did the same, ever watchful for winter predators or changes in the weather.

“We should head back soon.” Cody’s voice still carried the hard edge it had held since losing his wife, Miriam, and daughter, Sophia, to murderers years earlier. “Snow’s getting deeper.”

Nathan shifted in his saddle, auburn hair catching the wan sunlight. “A few more minutes. I spotted some strays heading toward the western ridge.”

Cody’s jaw tightened. Since returning to Wild Spirit Ranch, he’d worked to shed his bounty hunter persona, yet the instincts remained. Something in the air raised his hackles. “The weather’s turning. Ma will worry.”

“Now you sound like Josh,” Nathan said, humor in his tone. He urged his horse forward through the deepening snow.

The first tremor came as a low vibration, so subtle Cody might have missed it if not for years of reading danger. His head snapped toward the mountainside where a faint crack echoed across the pristine landscape.

“Nathan!” The word tore from his throat as the mountain groaned. Above them, a massive sheet of snow broke free with a sound like thunder.

Nathan wheeled his horse around, eyes wide with dawning horror. Cody was already moving, calculations racing through his mind. They’d never outrun it on horseback in this deep snow. His gaze locked on a rocky outcropping thirty yards away.

“Dismount! The cave!”

They leaped from their saddles as the wall of white death bore down. Cody grabbed Nathan’s arm, dragging him through knee-deep snow. Their horses screamed, bolting in opposite directions. The brothers stumbled, recovered, ran. The roar became deafening, drowning out their ragged breathing.

Ten yards from safety, Cody shoved Nathan ahead with all his strength.

The younger man pitched forward into the shallow cave entrance.

Cody dove after him as the avalanche struck.

The force threw him against the cave wall.

An explosion of white filled his vision as snow poured past the opening like water through a sluice.

Darkness fell. The brothers lay gasping in the dim confines of their shelter, the sounds of shifting snow and their own thundering hearts the only noise in their newly narrowed world. As Cody’s eyes adjusted, he made out Nathan’s form sprawled beside him.

“You hurt?” Cody asked.

Nathan pushed himself up to sit, wincing. “Bruised. Nothing broken.” He touched his forehead where a thin line of blood marked his encounter with the cave wall. “The horses…”

“Took off,” Cody said. He crawled to the cave entrance, now sealed with packed snow. His probing fingers found dense resistance. “We’re trapped.”

Nathan joined him at the snow wall, both men working in silence to gauge its depth. After several minutes, Cody sat back on his heels. “Must be feet thick. Maybe yards.”

“We have to dig out.” Nathan attacked the barrier with his bare hands.

Cody pulled him back. “Stop. You’ll bloody your hands for nothing. We need tools.” He began searching the cave floor, gathering loose rocks with edges sharp enough to cut through packed snow.

Before starting, Cody pulled a metal lucifer safe from a pocket, taking out one Lucifer matchstick. Striking the phosphorous end on the rough edge of the safe, he ignited the light. Holding it out, Cody studied the wall of ice before them before the light dimmed and died.

“It may not be as thick as we first thought,” he said. “It’s still going to take a lot of work.”

“How many of those do you have?” Nathan nodded toward the metal box in Cody’s hand.

“Not enough.”

They worked in shifts, one man chipping at the snow while the other rested and planned. The cave, barely large enough for them to stand, offered little in the way of comfort and one slim ray of light showing through a slit in the outcropped ceiling. As the hours passed, the temperature dropped.

Nathan paused in his digging, breath coming in visible puffs. “What supplies do we have?”

Cody emptied his coat pockets. “Jerky. Half-full canteen. Three pieces of hardtack.” He laid them out like playing cards on a flat rock. “You?”

“Just my canteen, mostly full, and a small bag of hard candy.” Nathan’s voice held forced lightness. “Remember when we were kids, playing at being mountain men in the hollow by Millard’s Park?” Their mother had named the open space after their father not long after his death.

“This isn’t a game, Nathan.” Cody’s tone softened at his brother’s flinch. “But we’re Becketts. We’ll find a way out of this place.”

They fashioned a crude shelter deeper in the cave, using their coats to block the worst of the drafts making their way through cracks in the rock.

As darkness gathered outside, the temperature plummeted further.

The brothers huddled together for warmth, sharing sips of water and small bites of jerky.

“Someone will come,” Nathan said into the darkness. “They’ll notice we’re missing.”

Cody stared at the snow-blocked entrance, memories of other cold, dark nights alone flooding back. But this time was different. This time he had someone to protect. “Ma will send Brodie. He’s the best tracker in the territory.”

“If the horses made it back to the ranch…”

“They’ll find us either way.” Cody squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “Try to sleep. We’ll need our strength tomorrow.”

As Nathan’s breathing eventually steadied into sleep, Cody remained awake, listening to the wind howl through the mountain passes. Somewhere out there, their family would be mobilizing a search. He only hoped they’d reach them before the supplies ran out or the cold became too much to bear.

A fresh rumble echoed through the rock, and Cody tensed.

More snow shifting? Or another avalanche bearing down?

He pulled Nathan closer, prepared to shield him if their shelter collapsed.

The sound faded, leaving only the whisper of wind and the slow drip of melting snow.

Dawn would come eventually. The question was whether they’d live to see it.

Annalee Beckett traced her tenth circuit past the window in the living room, glancing outside every few seconds. Her fingers twisted in her skirts, wrinkling the fabric beyond salvation, while her eyes searched the darkening landscape for any sign of her brothers’ return.

“They should have been back hours ago.” Annalee’s voice cracked on the words. She turned to her mother, who sat straight-backed in her chair by the fire. “Do you think they’ll be all right?”

Naomi Beckett’s weathered hands stilled on her mending. Her face remained composed, yet concern shadowed her eyes. “Your brothers know these mountains.” She set aside her work and stood. “Still, we’d best take precautions.”

The kitchen door opened, admitting a blast of cold air and Parker Beckett, his young face reddened from the wind. “No sign of them from the south pasture,” he reported. “Horses aren’t in the corrals either.”

Naomi’s expression hardened in decision. “Parker, ride to town with Samuel and Little Joe. Alert Brodie. Tell him we need him and that tracker’s eye of his.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Parker turned to go, then hesitated. “What if…”

“None of that,” Naomi cut him off. “Ride fast and bring Brodie back with you.”

Annalee resumed her pacing as Parker’s boots thundered down the porch steps. Through the window, she watched him running toward the bunkhouse where the orphaned ranch hands lived. Samuel and Little Joe emerged moments later, already pulling on their coats.

“Mama.” Annalee pressed her palms against the cold glass. “The weather’s turning worse.”

“I see it.” She moved to stand beside her daughter, both women watching heavy clouds roll in from the mountains. “Your brothers are strong. They’re together.”

“Like that helped Cody when Miriam and Sophia…” Annalee bit off the words, but they hung in the air between them.

Naomi’s hand found Annalee’s shoulder. “This is different.”

They waited in taut silence, broken only by the tick of the grandfather clock and the occasional pop from the fireplace. Annalee tried to sit, to occupy herself with needlework as her mother did, but anxiety drove her back to her feet within minutes.

After what Annalee considered a much too long period of time, the sound of approaching horses brought both women to the door.

Parker led the group, followed by Samuel and Little Joe flanking Sheriff Brodie Gaines and Deputy Nash Beaumont.

The men dismounted quickly, stamping snow from their boots as they climbed the porch steps.

Brodie removed his hat, revealing concern in his green eyes. “Parker filled us in. When did they leave?”

“Dawn.” Naomi’s voice remained steady. “They were checking the high pastures for strays.”

“Which route?”

“The western ridge trail,” Annalee supplied. “Cody mentioned wanting to check the box canyon beyond it.”

Nash spoke up, his auburn mustache frosted with snow. “There’s been avalanche activity in that area. Heard it from a drummer passing through town this morning.”

The front door opened again as Elijah and Joshua Beckett entered, their faces grim. Behind them came Grayson, who’d ridden in from the east pasture at Parker’s summons.

“We’re riding out,” Grayson announced, his authority as eldest brother evident in his tone. “Eli, Josh, get the gear together. Rope, shovels, anything we might need for a rescue.”

“I’m coming, too.” Annalee stepped forward, chin raised.

“No.” Brodie’s response came sharp and immediate. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I know those mountains as well as any of you,” Annalee countered. “I’ve ridden them since I could sit a horse.”

“This isn’t a pleasure ride, Annie.” Brodie’s use of her childhood name sparked anger in her eyes. “We’ll be pushing hard in dangerous conditions.”

“All the more reason to have another experienced rider.” She turned to her brothers. “You know I can handle myself.”