Montana Sky

mount to her other side as a shield. He had his rifle out in a lightning move even as he plunged knee-deep into the snow. “Use the trees, and stay down.”
    But she’d seen now, the blood that stained the sleeve of Adam’s jacket. And seeing it, she was running toward her brother, in the open. Ben swore ripely as he tackled her, used his body to cover hers as another shot exploded.
    She fought bitterly, bucking and clawing in the snow. Terror was a hot, red haze. “Adam—he’s shot. Let me go.”
    “Keep down.” Ben’s face was close to hers, his voice cold and calm as he held her under him. Charlie barked like thunder, quivering for the signal to hunt. He subsided only when Ben gave him the terse order to stay.
    Still covering Willa, Ben shifted his eyes as Adam bellied toward them. “How bad?”
    “Don’t know.” The pain was bright, a violent song up his arm to the shoulder. “I think he got more of the coat than me. Will, you’re not hit?” He rubbed a snow-coated glove over her face. “Will?”
    “No. You’re bleeding.”
    “It’s okay. His aim was off.”
    She closed her eyes a moment, willing herself to calm. “It was deliberate. It wasn’t some stupid hunter.”
    “Had to be a long-range rifle,” Ben murmured, lifting his head enough to scan the trees, the hills. He slid a hand over his dog’s vibrating back to calm him. “I can’t see anything. From the direction, I’d guess he’s holed up in that gulch, up there in the rocks.”
    “With plenty of cover.” Willa forced her breath slowly in, slowly out. “We can’t get to him.”
    Trust her, Ben thought, to think first of attack. He slid off Willa, steadied his rifle. “We’re almost to the cabin. You and Willa make for it, keep to the trees. I can draw his fire here.”
    “The hell with that. I’m not leaving you here.” She started to scramble up, but Ben pushed her flat again. In the seconds that his eyes held Adam’s, the men agreed how to handle it.
    “Adam’s bleeding,” Ben said quietly. “He has to be looked after. You get him to the cabin, Will. I’ll be right behind you.”
    “We can make a stand in the cabin if we have to.” Blocking out the pain, Adam walked his way through the details. “Ben, we can cover you from up ahead. When you hear our fire, start after us.”
    Ben nodded. “Once I get to that stand of rocks where we used to have that fort, I’ll fire. That’ll give you time to make it to the cabin. Fire again so I’ll know you made it.”
    Now she had to choose, Willa realized, between one man and the other. The blood staining the snow gave her no choice at all. “Don’t do anything stupid.” She took Ben’s face in her hands, kissed him hard. “I don’t like heroes.”
    Keeping low, she grabbed the reins of her horse. “Can you mount?” she said to Adam.
    “Yeah. Stay in the trees, Willa. We’re going to move fast.” With one last look at Ben, Adam swung into the saddle. “Ride!”
    She didn’t have time to look back. But she would remember, she knew she would remember always, the way Ben knelt alone in the snow, the shadows of trees shielding his face and a rifle lifted to his shoulder.
    She’d lied, she thought when she heard him fire once, twice, three times. She had an open heart for heroes.
    “There’s no return fire,” she called out as she and Adam pulled up behind a tower of rock. “Maybe he’s gone.”
    Or maybe he was waiting, Adam thought. He said nothing as Willa unsheathed her rifle. She fired a steady half dozenrounds. “He’ll be all right, won’t he, Adam? If the sniper tries to circle around and—”
    “Nobody knows this country better than Ben.” He said it quickly to reassure both of them. He’d left his brother behind, was all he could think. Because it was all that could be done. “We’ve got to keep moving, Willa. We can give Ben the best cover from the cabin.”
    She couldn’t argue, not when Adam’s face was so pale, not when the cabin, warmth, and medical supplies were only minutes away. But she knew what none of them had said: There was no cover for the last fifty yards. To get inside, they would have to ride in the open.
    The sun was bright, the snow dazzling. She had no doubt that they stood out against that white like deer in a meadow. In the distance she could hear the frigid sound of water forcing its way over ice and rock and, closer, the rapid sound of her own breathing.
    Rocks punched out of snow, trees crouched. She rode