W
ITH A GRUNT SHE dragged the half-frozen body across the icy trail and rolled it into a foot-high snow drift. The wind was no help, buffeting her about while she covered every sign of that bastard Rafe French. Squeezing her arms together for warmth she stumbled back to check her handiwork. It would do till she could return with his brother Lunsford in tow. If she had to, she’d drag them both over the ice and snow back to Muskogee. Now to make sure she left some sort of indication… a mark she could find on her way back. Limber tree limbs nodded and danced, and she kicked her way through the snow to tie a leather strip high as she could reach. By-passers, if there chanced to be any, would not notice anything. In the wind it appeared to be a loose branch. Folks tended not to look above their heads much anyway. With gloved fingers she adjusted the furry hood so it covered most of her face and turned to mount the patient Appaloosa. Ice fringed his eyes, and she brushed it away, then cleaned off the saddle before stepping into the slick stirrup. Heels nudging his sides,
she leaned forward to get out of the wind. He spoke to her down in his throat and high stepped through the deepening snow. “I know, buddy, it’s bad, but we’re almost there. We’ll make it, won’t we?” His long tail and mane whipped around. Hugging his neck she thanked God, or whoever was in charge of this dreadful weather, that if the wind had to blow at least it was a tail wind sweeping them along toward Chetocah. When he had her at gunpoint, Rafe had made the mistake of bragging that his brother was probably already home in Caney Springs just south of there. Thinking he’d kill her before moving on, he spoke too soon, for she found her chance when he turned his back to fight a frigid gust of wind. Her rifle still in its scabbard along her leg was in her hands before he knew it, and he paid the price. She shot him through the head that fast—without thinking or even aiming, just pointed the Winchester and pulled the trigger. Blood froze before it ran all the way down his face. She swore his eyes cursed her before they closed, like he might tell someone later who’d shot him down.
