Montana Sky

right,” she said half to herself. “Something’s off here.”
    She walked to the gate, shoved it open.
    At first she didn’t believe it, thought her eyes were dazzled by moonlight on snow. But the smell—she recognized the smell of death too well by now.
    “Oh, God, Adam.” With her free hand she covered her mouth, fought back the gorge that rose like a fountain in her throat. “Oh, sweet God.”
    Calves had been slaughtered. It was impossible at first to tell how many, but she knew she’d brought some of them into the world herself, only hours before. Now, instead of huddling against their mamas for warmth, they lay tossed into the snow, throats and bellies slit.
    Blood glittered on the ground, rich and red, in a hideous pool already crusting in the cold.
    It was weak, but she turned away from the carnage, lowered her rifle, and leaned on the fence until her insides settled into place.
    “Why? Why in God’s name would anyone do something like this?”
    “I don’t know.” He rubbed her back, but he didn’t turn away. He counted eight infant calves, mutilated. “Let’s get you back to the house. I’ll deal with this.”
    “No, I can deal with it. I can.” She wiped a gloved hand over her mouth. “The ground’s too hard to bury them. We’ll have to burn them. We’ll have to get them out of here, away from the other calves and the females, and burn them.”
    “Nate and I can do that.” He struggled not to sigh at her set expression. “All right, we’ll all do it. But I want to get you back inside for a few minutes. Will, I have to check on the horses. If—”
    “Jesus.” Her own misery faded in fear for him, and his. “I didn’t even think. Let’s go. Hurry.”
    She didn’t head back to the house, but half ran toward the horse barn. The fear raced giddily in her head that she would fling open the door and be met again with that hideous smell of death.
    They hit the door together, wrenched it open. She was already prepared to grieve, prepared to rage. But all that met her was the scents of hay and horse and leather.
    Nonetheless, by tacit agreement they checked every stall, then the corral beyond. They left lights burning behind them.
    Adam moved to his house next, to look in on his dogs. He’d started locking them in at night right after the incident with the barn cat. They greeted him happily, tails thumping. He suspected, with a mixture of amusement and worry, that they would have greeted an armed madman with the same friendly enthusiasm.
    “We can call the main house from here, ask Nate to meet us at the pole barn. You want Ham, too.”
    Willa bent down to scratch an eager Beans between the ears. “Everyone. I want everyone out there. I want them to see what we’re up against.” Her eyes hardened. “And I want to know what everyone’s been doing for the last couple hours.”
     
    T HE TASK WASN ’ T PHYSICALLY ARDUOUS, BUT IT WAS painful. Dragging butchered newborns into a pile on the snow-covered ground. There were plenty of hands to help, and there was no conversation.
    Once Willa caught Billy surreptitiously wiping a hand over his eyes. She didn’t hold the tears against him. She would have wept herself if it would have done any good.
    When it was done, she took the can of gasoline from Ham. “I’ll do it,” she said grimly. “It’s for me to do this.”
    “Will—” He cut off his own protest, then nodded before gesturing the men to move back.
    “How can she stand it?” Lily murmured, shivering with Tess beyond the corral fence. “How can she stand it?”
    “Because she has to.” Tess shuddered as Willa sloshed gas on the small heap. “We all have to,” she added, draping an arm over Lily’s shoulders. “Do you want to go inside?”
    More than anything in the world, Lily thought, but she shook her head fiercely. “No, we’ll stay till it’s finished. Until she’s finished.”
    Willa adjusted the bandanna she’d tied over her nose and mouth and took the box of matches from Ham. It took her three attempts to get a flame to hold in her cupped hand,and with the teeth of the wind snapping against her, she had to crouch low and close to start the fire.
    It burned high and fast, spewing heat. In only seconds, the odor of roasting meat was thick, and sickening. Smoke whipped out toward her, making her eyes water and her throat clog. She stepped back, one step, then two before she could hold her ground.
    “I’ll call Ben.” Nate shifted to her side.
    She