Page 15 of Storm in Montana (Montana Becketts, Wild Spirit Ranch #3)

Snow slashed through the darkness in horizontal sheets, transforming the Montana prairie into a howling void.

The stagecoach sat motionless, its wheels buried in deep drifts while arctic winds screamed past its wooden walls.

Inside, five figures huddled close, their breath forming clouds in the weak lantern light as they listened to the gathering wolves.

The driver held up the lantern he’d lit to help ward off the chill and the approach of the menacing pack. It didn’t appear to help either, though he continued to hold it out as if warning off evil spirits.

Hope Lassiter pressed closer to her sister Grace, both young women drawing what warmth they could from each other’s trembling forms. Across from them, an elderly couple clasped hands, the woman’s silver hair glinting in the wavering lantern flame.

The driver kept his eyes fixed on the window, his weathered face lined with concern.

“They’re getting closer,” Grace whispered, her voice barely audible above the wind’s endless moan. Her fingers dug into Hope’s arm as another howl pierced the night, closer than the last.

The driver shifted, his boots scraping against the wooden floor. “Been driving this route fifteen years. Never seen a storm hit this fast, this hard.” He pulled his coat tighter. “Them wolves know we’re trapped.”

Outside, dark shapes moved through the whirling snow, their eyes reflecting brief flashes of greenish light. The pack circled wider, then tighter, testing the limits of their prey’s shelter. One bold wolf approached the coach, its massive paw prints marking fresh snow.

The elderly woman let out a small sob. Her husband pulled her closer, whispering words of comfort lost in the storm’s fury. Hope stared at the lantern’s flame, watching it dance as gusts found their way through the coach’s seams. The wolves’ calls grew more frequent, more demanding.

“Someone will come,” Grace said, though her voice wavered. “Tripp knows we were due in Gumption hours ago.”

The driver nodded. “Better hope they come soon. This storm ain’t letting up, and them wolves are getting braver by the minute.”

As if to confirm his words, a heavy body thumped against the side of the coach. The entire vehicle shuddered. Hope bit back a scream as claws scraped wood, testing for weakness. The lantern swayed again, throwing grotesque shadows across the frightened faces within.

Through the howling wind came a new sound. Distant at first, then growing stronger. Hoofbeats. Multiple horses, moving fast through the deep snow. The wolves’ calls changed pitch, becoming more uncertain.

“Thank the Lord,” the elderly man breathed, squeezing his wife’s hand.

A rifle shot cracked through the night air, sharp and decisive. The wolves scattered back, their dark forms melting into the swirling white. More shots followed. Through the coach’s window, Hope caught glimpses of mounted figures emerging from the storm.

“It’s Tripp!” Grace pressed her face to the glass. “And the Becketts. I see Grayson and Eli. Josh, too!”

The rescue party materialized from the white haze like avenging angels.

Tripp Lassiter led the charge, his face set in grim lines as he directed the others with sharp hand signals.

Brodie and Nash flanked the group, rifles ready as they scanned for returning predators.

The Beckett brothers moved swiftly, creating a protective circle around the stranded coach.

Annalee urged her horse forward, breaking from the group. “Hope! Grace! Are you all right?” She dismounted and rushed to the stage, ignoring Brodie’s warning look.

“Stand ready,” Tripp commanded, his voice carrying through the storm. “Joshua, Eli. Watch the far side. They’ll try to circle back.”

The wolves’ calls echoed from multiple directions now but more distant. The rescue party’s presence had disrupted their hunt, forcing them into hiding. Annalee reached the coach door, her fingers working the frozen latch.

The door creaked open, letting in a blast of arctic air. Hope and Grace practically fell into her arms, their relief evident in choked sobs.

“We’ve been worried sick,” Annalee said, holding both women close.

“The axle broke,” the driver explained, climbing down stiffly. “Tried to fix it, but the storm came on too fast. Wolves started gathering not long afterward.”

Tripp dismounted, moving to embrace his sisters while keeping one hand on his rifle. His eyes never stopped scanning the white void beyond their circle of safety. “You’re safe now,” he said quietly. “We’ll get you to Gumption.”

The elderly couple emerged last, accepting help from Joshua and Elijah. The group wasted no time, knowing the wolves might return if they sensed weakness. Brodie and Nash maintained their guard positions, rifles ready.

A long howl rose above the wind, closer than before. The horses shifted in fear, steam rising from their flanks.

“We need to make repairs and get out of here,” Tripp ordered.

With the wolves driven back into the storm’s white embrace, the rescue party turned their attention to the stranded coach. The wind still howled its arctic fury, carrying ice crystals sharp enough to sting exposed skin. Everyone knew the respite from the weather and wildlife might prove temporary.

The rescue party hurried to get the passengers settled with thick blankets wrapped around them, Annalee beside them offering quiet comfort. The wolves’ calls faded as the men worked, finally giving up to seek easier prey.

The men worked in silence as they made repairs to the stage. Finishing thirty minutes later, they surveyed their work.

“It should hold until we get to town,” Grayson said, turning toward the driver. “You’ll have to take it slow. We don’t want to repeat the work up the trail.”

As they began the slow journey toward Gumption, Hope pressed close to her sister, watching the snow swirl past. She could almost see the wolves’ eyes gleaming from the darkness beyond their circle of safety.

The rescue party had arrived just in time, turning what might have been tragedy into a fearful misadventure.

Still, none of them would soon forget the sound of those howls or the way the wolves’ eyes had gleamed with hungry intent through the storm’s white curtain.

Annalee sat between the passengers, offering water and comfort. She paused next to Hope and Grace. “You’re both so brave,” she said, squeezing their hands. “When Tripp realized you were overdue…”

“We knew someone would come,” Grace replied, though her voice still shook. “When we heard those wolves…”

“Don’t think about that now,” Annalee interrupted gently. “Focus on getting warm. We’ll be in Gumption soon, sitting by a proper fire.”

A wolf’s howl cut through the wind. Everyone tensed, hands moving to weapons. “Time to pick up the pace,” Tripp called out.

Hearing the order, the driver slapped the reins. The horses responded, carrying the stagecoach closer to Gumption.

The repaired coach creaked and groaned but held together. The rescue party maintained their protective formation with Tripp and Grayson in front, Brodie and Nash on the flanks, and Joshua and Elijah bringing up the rear.

Wind-driven snow reduced visibility to mere yards. The horses pushed forward, steam rising upward from their nostrils. Inside the coach, Annalee kept up a steady stream of conversation, drawing Hope and Grace’s attention away from the storm’s fury and the occasional distant howls.

“Remember when we were children?” she asked, smiling at memories. “How we’d play school in your father’s barn? Grace, you were always the teacher.”

Grace managed a small laugh. “You were the worst student, always trying to teach the horses instead of learning your letters.”

“The horses were better listeners,” Annalee replied, drawing more chuckles from the sisters. Her strategy worked to keep their minds occupied with happier thoughts as the miles passed.

The storm began to ease as they approached Gumption, though the wind remained bitter. Lights appeared through the gloom, the windows glowing with warmth and welcome. The entire town had worried when the stage failed to arrive on schedule. Now, word of the rescue began to spread.

They reached Gumption’s main street, the buildings providing some shelter from the relentless wind. People emerged from the hotel and restaurant, ready to help. The elderly couple was whisked away to warm rooms, while the driver headed straight for the nearest whiskey.

Tripp helped his sisters down from the coach, his relief evident in the way he held them close. “Let’s get you both warm. There’s hot food at the restaurant.”

The rescue party dismounted, their task complete.

As they led their horses toward the livery stable, Annalee caught Brodie watching her, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

She looked away, her cheeks warming despite the cold.

The day’s dangers were past, but something in his look promised other adventures might lie ahead.

Light from the restaurant windows spilled onto the snow-covered street, creating golden rectangles.

Inside, the rescue party enjoyed a meal of venison stew and fresh bread, their earlier tension melting away in the warmth.

Tripp sat between his sisters, his quiet words of gratitude to the others conveying his relief.

“You all risked your lives today,” he said, his voice low enough only those nearest could hear. “I won’t forget it.”

The group finished their meal as evening settled fully over Gumption. Hope and Grace sat in silence, exhausted from their ordeal. Tripp invited everyone to spend the night at his ranch a few miles west of town.

“I’ll ride with you to the Lassiter ranch,” Brodie said, approaching her table. “Roads might still be dangerous.”

“I can manage,” she replied, though her heart quickened at his offer.

“Humor me.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I’ve had my fill of wolves for one day.”

They rode in comfortable silence, their horses’ hooves making soft patterns in the fresh snow. The storm had passed, leaving behind a transformed landscape. Moonlight painted everything in silver, creating an almost ethereal beauty.

At the ranch, Brodie helped her dismount, his hands lingering perhaps a moment longer than necessary at her waist. “Walk with me?” he asked, nodding toward the barn. “I want to stretch my legs before bunking down.”

Annalee knew she should decline. The day had been long, full of danger and excitement. Yet something in his expression made her nod. They walked side by side, their boots crunching in the pristine snow.

“Remember when we were young and would spend hours exploring, looking for adventure?” she asked.

“You were always the fearless one,” he replied. “Climbing the highest trees, racing your horse faster than anyone dared.”

“Not fearless,” she corrected. “Just unwilling to let fear win.” She paused, gathering her courage. “Brodie, do you intend to keep serving as sheriff?”

He stopped walking, his expression growing serious in the moonlight. “I have to,” he said finally. “Even if the cost is more than I’m prepared to pay.”

“What if duty eventually leaves us with nothing?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, loaded with meanings neither had voiced before.

Brodie turned to face her fully, his green eyes intense. “Then perhaps we’ll have to choose each other over the law.”

The words hung between them, heavy with possibility. Annalee’s breath caught as Brodie reached for her hand, his fingers warm despite the cold air. Their hands fit together perfectly, neither willing to break the connection.

They stood in silence beneath the barn’s looming shadow, snow falling in soft flakes around them. When Brodie finally spoke, his voice was rough with emotion.

“Annie…” He stepped closer, one hand rising to brush snow from her cheek. The touch sent sparks through her entire body.

A horse nickered from inside the barn, breaking the moment.

Yet neither moved away. They remained frozen in the moment, their eyes locked, hands still joined.

The night stretched around them, full of promise and danger in equal measure.

Like the wolves in the storm, something wild and untamed circled their hearts, waiting to pounce.

Choices lay before them. Duty or desire, safety or risk, the known path or the unknown adventure. In the silver moonlight, with snow falling like stars around them, the choices hung suspended, waiting for one of them to make the first move.