Into The Storm. Helen DePrima

out, so I threw my saddle out the window along with the mare’s bridle and a lead rope. I boosted Stranger through the window and climbed out after him.”

      The wind had picked up, the snow thicker, already clinging to the horses’ rough coats and Stranger’s fur. Jake hated leaving Shelby here; he didn’t trust her not to bolt again.

      “Look,” he said, “this weather’s blowing in hard.” He offered his watch. “Wait fifteen minutes and then follow me. I’ll talk to Ross and have the trailer ready to load the colt. Okay?”

      She hesitated and then took the watch, shivering so hard she almost dropped it. “Okay,” she said. “Fifteen minutes.”

      “Sooner if the tracks start to fill in. I’ve known folks to die a hundred yards from shelter, going in circles.” Although the mare would head straight to the barn for shelter.

      He forced himself to ride away but then looked over his shoulder. Already the little group was only a dark blur in the swirling whiteness.

      “Fifteen minutes,” he yelled, and she raised a hand as if to show him the watch. He turned and kicked the gelding into a run.

      * * *

      ROSS PACED IN front of the barn with snow building up on his hat and shoulders. “I was about to ride out looking for you.” He peered past Jake. “Did you find her?”

      “She’ll be along in a few minutes.” Jake dismounted and led the gelding into the barn. “Is Gary back?”

      “They got in while you were looking for Shelby. He said he came back early because his horse threw a shoe. He and Shelby were in the barn, just fooling around, he said, and she set her dog on him.” Ross held up his hand. “You don’t need to tell me that’s a crock—we’ve been cleaning up his messes ever since he got kicked out of high school. Is Shelby okay?”

      Jake didn’t bother sparing Ross’s feelings. “Other than a split lip and scratches when he tried to tear her clothes off? Yeah, she’s okay. I’m taking her home with me, and the gray colt, too, if you’ll sell him.” He tried to recall how much he had in his checking account, maybe a couple thousand this time of year and none to spare.

      “You can have him for nothing—I didn’t want him in the first place.”

      “Say two hundred. He might make a nice ride for Lucy once he’s gelded.” Jake moved out into the snow. “Help me get the ramp down on my trailer. Shelby can load him straight in and we’ll be on our way before the roads get bad.”

      They had just gotten the ramp lowered when the chestnut gelding neighed; a whinny from the gloom answered him. Two horses emerged from the falling snow with the dog like a ghost behind them. Shelby reined in by the corral.

      Jake took a step forward, but Ross put a hand on his arm. “This is between me and Shelby,” he said. He raised his voice. “Sugar, bring the horses in out of the snow, how about?”

      For a moment nobody moved, and then the mare tossed her head, eager to reach shelter. Shelby loosened the reins and rode into the barn with the colt and Stranger following.

      Ross took the colt’s lead rope. “Shelby,” he said, “I’ve got a pretty good notion of what happened.”

      Shelby dismounted slowly.

      “Take your hat off,” Jake said, “and open your coat.”

      Still facing the mare’s side, she took off the hat and hung it on the pommel before unzipping her jacket. She turned to face Ross.

      His face blanched. “You want to press charges, I’ll back your play.”

      A rapidly darkening bruise marked her jaw below the split lip. Most of her shirt buttons had been ripped off, and livid scratches ran from her collarbone to the ruins of her tank top. Even though he’d already seen her face, the full extent of Shelby’s injuries left Jake speechless with rage. Whatever damage Stranger had done wasn’t near enough.

      “No.” A husky whisper. “No police.”

      “He’s bad news with women,” Jake said. “He needs to be nailed to the wall.”

      “Not by me.” She zipped her coat. “Can we leave now?”

      The ragged edge in her voice warned Jake not to push. He took the colt’s lead rope from Ross and handed it to Shelby. “The trailer’s ready. Ross, can you get Shelby’s stuff while we load?”

      Ross nodded and stalked toward the house, outrage in every step.

      Shelby cleared her throat. “If you’ll put a hay net in the trailer...”

      The colt loaded easily, following the scent of good alfalfa. Shelby ducked out the front hatch just as Liz arrived carrying a backpack and a sack of dog food.

      “I hope everything’s here,” Liz said in a choked voice, her face ashen. “I looked around...”

      “I never unpack,” Shelby said, her teeth chattering.

      Liz embraced her awkwardly. “I can’t tell you how sorry—”

      “Please—it wasn’t your fault.”

      “We don’t have enough cash on hand to pay all we owe you, but here’s three hundred on account.” Liz tucked a roll of bills into Shelby’s hand. “I’ll send a check for the rest to Jake’s first thing in the morning.”

      “Thanks, Liz,” Jake said. “Like Shelby told you, it’s not your fault.”

      “Maybe it is.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “We’ve tried so hard with Gary...”

      “All you can do.” He opened the door for Stranger to jump into the backseat and tossed in the dog food and Shelby’s saddle. Shelby stood motionless, her pack clutched to her chest. He climbed behind the wheel and spoke over his shoulder.

      “Come on, Shelby—help me get my new horse home.”

      She gave a jerky nod and climbed into the passenger’s seat.

      “You take her to a doctor, Jake,” Liz said. “Send us the bill.”

      Jake touched his hat to Liz and eased his rig forward.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      SHELBY CLENCHED HER teeth and wrapped her arms tighter around her pack. If she could just stop shivering... Heat blasting from the vents didn’t seem to reach her, as if she still felt the icy wind.

      She should have kept riding and taken her chances; now she was trapped in Jake’s truck. She fought down panic. The whole sequence had lasted only minutes but looped endlessly in her brain: Stranger’s roar, footsteps approaching, Gary’s smug leer... Or another man’s face, hands touching her as she lay helpless. She choked back a whimper and reached for the door handle.

      “Ain’t that the way!” Jake said. “No more than a dusting here in the canyon, but the high country will get another foot. Take a peek over your shoulder, Shelby—looks like the gates of hell where you were headed.”

      His soft drawl steadied her, and she glanced at the mountains behind them. Blue-black clouds hid the peaks, and swaying curtains of snow grayed the lower slopes.

      “Warming up?” He reached to adjust the vents in front of her, and she shrank back reflexively.

      “Is there...” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Is there a used car lot in town?”

      He glanced at her with a puzzled frown. “Sure, Bert Dawson sells pretty decent vehicles.”

      She looked down at the roll of bills she still clutched. Another couple hundred in her pack... “Let me off there, okay?”

      Jake steered his rig into a small roadside picnic area and then turned to face her.