A Grand Teton Sleigh Ride: Four Generations of Wyoming Ranchers Celebrate Love at Christmas Read Online Free Page B

the white world outside. The snow had stopped, and at last the sun broke out from behind the lead-gray clouds.
    Not for the first time did she feel a mixture of grief and joy when bundling into her heavy coat and opening the front door. The snow came up to her knees, and that was in the meager path between the cabin and the snug barn a stone’s throw away. Patch was likely more than ready to eat, not to mention Daisy, the cow. Hopefully the small herd of cattle that had hunkered down near the barn had fared well in the storm. Mr. Tolliver was supposed to come to help with chores yesterday, but the weather had obviously kept him away.
    The view outside made her stop and stare, even as a burst of cold air swept into the cabin. The mountains rose into the sky, jagged, wild, beautiful. She thought she’d seen mountains in Massachusetts and New York State. But these? Their height and ruggedness made her feel smaller than she’d ever felt in her life. The empty cabin made her feel more alone than she’d ever felt before.
    What was she doing here? Helping young women become more refined? Or merely trying to survive and build a life like everyone else?
    She needed to stop wondering and get set with the tasks ahead of her today. Last night, she’d found some snowshoes in the corner of Melanie and Ham’s old room, a place she’d left untouched since the horrible accident. She still recalled the sight of their broken bodies after their team bolted. She couldn’t bear looking at the horses and sold the team, but she’d kept Patch. Somehow, she knew Ham wouldn’t mind she’d sold the team, especially if she might need the money for replenishing supplies in the long months to come.
    “Here goes nothing.” She managed to strap the snowshoes to her boots then grabbed the milk pail before stepping on paddled feet onto the snow. The sun hurt her eyes; the wind stung her cheeks. Melanie had done this for more than four years? Her sister had said the winters were long and cold; Belle said she knew what cold felt like. At the time, Melanie had laughed. If her sister could but see her now.
    Belle took a few strides in the direction of the barn. One step at a time. She concentrated on the snow in front of her then stopped when she heard someone calling out.
    “Miss Murray!” A figure in the distance came plodding toward her on snowshoes. “Halloo!”
    “Hello!” she called out, squinting against the light. Zebulon Covington, of course. She continued along the path to the barn. He could catch up quickly enough if he wanted to speak to her. Why he’d trudged the distance from his next-door claim to hers, she didn’t know. But she knew he’d tell her soon enough.
    Belle kicked at the snow in front of the doorway, a feeble effort. Then she dug at it with her milk pail until the door would budge open to allow her to slip through.
    “You ever seen so much snow?” Zebulon asked, as he grew closer to the barn. The cattle taking refuge lowed as he approached.
    “No, never.” She dug at the door a little more.
    “Here.” He pulled on the door, and the snow wedged higher behind it. “You should have kept a path broken during the storm. Doesn’t take much time to do. Makes it easier to get your work done when the snow’s over.”
    “I didn’t know.”
    “I thought as much, which is why I came by.” He held the door open. “After you, Miss Murray.”
    She hesitated a moment. She wasn’t accustomed to having a man follow her into an empty barn. Yes, the other evening at the Smythes’ they’d both gone to the barn, but they were both leaving, and she wasn’t exactly alone on the property as she was right now.
    Belle glanced at him before entering the snug, warm space filled with the scent of animals.
    “Miss Murray, my intentions are completely honorable. You need a hand with the chores, and I think a few suggestions to help you are warranted.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “And you’d much prefer my help instead of