Page 13 of Storm in Montana (Montana Becketts, Wild Spirit Ranch #3)
Joshua spoke first, his voice soft yet carrying weight. “She’s right. We might need every pair of eyes and hands we can get.”
“She’ll slow us down,” Brodie argued.
“You know that isn’t true.” Annalee met his gaze. “Cricket’s sure-footed in snow, and I can read sign as well as most. You know that, Brodie Gaines, even if you prefer to think of me as a child.”
A loaded silence followed her words. Grayson looked between them, then nodded slowly. “Gear up, Annie. But you follow orders without question once we’re out there.”
She promised, already moving toward the door.
“Annalee.” Her mother’s voice stopped her. Naomi held out a bundle wrapped in oilcloth. “Extra food and medical things… in case.”
They shared a look of perfect understanding before Annalee took the package and hurried to change into riding clothes. Behind her, she heard the men discussing routes and strategy, their voices carrying the weight of unspoken fears.
Within twenty minutes, the rescue party gathered in the yard. Horses stamped impatiently, their breath clouding in the frigid air. Brodie double-checked his rifle while Nash secured an extra rope to his saddle. The Beckett brothers moved with expert efficiency, loading supplies and checking tack.
Annalee mounted Cricket, adjusting her heavy wool scarf against the bitter wind. Her mother stood on the porch, straight and strong, showing no sign of the worry Annalee knew must be eating at her.
“We’ll find them,” Annalee called. Only those who knew her well would have caught the tremor in her voice.
Naomi nodded once, sharp and decisive. “Bring them home.”
Brodie raised his hand, and the rescue party moved out into the gathering dusk, their figures soon swallowed by swirling snow.
Wind howled through the mountain passes, driving snow into the faces of the rescue party as they pressed forward.
Their horses struggled through drifts reaching past their knees, steam rising from their flanks despite the bitter cold.
At the lead, Brodie Gaines leaned forward in his saddle, eyes narrowed against the stinging ice as he searched for signs in the deepening white.
“Trail’s gone cold,” Nash called from behind him, voice barely carrying over the wind.
Brodie raised his hand, signaling the group to halt. The Beckett brothers drew their horses alongside, while Annalee guided Cricket closer to hear their discussion.
“We need to split up,” Grayson said, frost coating his dark beard. “Cover more ground before we lose the light completely.”
Elijah shook his head, green eyes sharp with concern. “Too risky in these conditions. We get separated, and we could lose more than just Cody and Nathan.”
“Eli’s right,” Joshua added. “We stay together, work in a grid pattern.”
Brodie studied the terrain ahead, where the mountain rose in jagged tiers.
Somewhere up there, two men fought for survival, assuming they were still alive.
He pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the signs only an experienced tracker might read.
The way certain snowdrifts formed, the patterns of wind-blown powder, and the subtle variations in the white expanse before them all hinted at where his friends might be.
“This way,” he decided, turning his horse northeast. “The wind would have driven them toward the ridge line.”
They pressed on, each lost in private thoughts and prayers. Annalee rode beside Nash, her face set with determination despite the cold seeping through her layers of wool. The deputy cast occasional glances her way, noting her skill in handling her horse through the treacherous conditions.
Hours passed, marked only by the changing angle of what little sun penetrated the clouds. They stopped to rest the horses and share water from canteens. No one spoke of turning back.
The first sign came as they rounded a bend in the mountain path. Brodie’s hand shot up, bringing the party to an immediate halt. “There!”
Two horses emerged from the swirling snow, their coats caked with ice. Annalee recognized them immediately. Nathan’s bay gelding and Cody’s sturdy mount, still wearing their saddles though the reins dragged loose in the snow.
“They’re alive,” she breathed, relief warring with renewed fear. “The horses wouldn’t have left them otherwise.”
“Unless they were thrown,” Nash said quietly, but Brodie was already reading the story written in the snow.
“No.” He pointed to the tracks leading back the way the horses had come. “They dismounted. Here, see how the prints space out? They were running.”
“The avalanche,” Elijah said, realization dawning. “They must have seen it coming.”
Grayson took charge, his voice carrying the weight of command. “Secure these horses. They’ll lead us back to where they left our brothers.”
They followed the horses’ trail, moving as quickly as they dared through the treacherous terrain.
Brodie and Nash rode point, their experienced eyes picking out signs that would have been invisible to others.
A broken branch here, a depression in the snow there, each sign led them closer to their goal.
The path took them higher into the mountains, where the air grew thin and every breath burned with cold. Above them, the rock face showed signs of the avalanche’s passage.
“There.” Joshua pointed to a series of rocky outcroppings ahead. “Those caves we used to explore as kids. Remember, Eli?”
“Perfect shelter,” Brodie agreed. “If they had time to reach them…”
A low rumble interrupted his words. The entire party froze, eyes turning to the peaks above where heavy clouds had gathered, dark and menacing.
“Another storm,” Nash warned. “Big one, coming fast.”
“How long?” Grayson demanded.
“Hour, maybe less.”
Annalee urged Cricket forward, past the men. “Then we don’t have time to debate. They’re up there, in one of those caves, and that storm will bury any chance we have of finding them.”
The wind picked up, driving sheets of snow between the rocks.
Another rumble echoed through the mountains, closer this time.
The rescue party exchanged glances, each understanding the choice before them.
Push on toward the caves with a killer storm bearing down, or retreat to safety and abandon their brothers to the mountain’s mercy.
Brodie looked at each face in turn, seeing the same resolution he felt. Without a word, he turned his horse toward the caves. The others followed, their figures growing indistinct in the thickening snow as thunder rolled across the peaks above them.
The race between rescue and nature’s fury had begun. The question was, who would reach Cody and Nathan first? Their family, or the storm threatening to entomb them in white silence forever?