As we crested the ridge, the landscape opened up before us. A vast alpine meadow stretched out, dotted with hundreds of black and brown shapes. It was our cattle, grazing peacefullyagainst a backdrop of snow-capped peaks. In another context, it might have been a postcard image of Montana beauty. But the dark clouds were now directly overhead, and I could feel the temperature dropping by the minute.
Cole had ridden ahead and was now conferring with two other hands who had been staying with the herd the past couple of days. They gestured toward the cattle and then to the sky, their expressions serious. When Cole turned back toward us, his face was grim.
“Change of plans,” he announced as we gathered around. “Storm’s movin’ in too fast and I don’t want any casualties in a blizzard. We’re leavin’ the cattle here and settin’ up camp now. Let’s shelter up on the eastern side to stay out of the wind.”
I felt my stomach drop. This was all my fault. I was the one that convinced him to postpone the cattle drive to help cover the cost of the freezer. And now, before we even got started, things were bad. This was why ranchers didn’t wait until November to bring their cattle down from the mountains.
I turned to Cole, opening my mouth to apologize. But the words never came out as the wind picked up and I turned my gaze skyward. My breath fogged heavily in front of me as the storm arrived.
Snow had begun to fall.
Chapter 12
Cole
By the time we reached the sheltered portion of the mountain, the snow was blowing in sideways. Visibility was so bad I couldn’t even see the cattle anymore and the trees wouldn’t be far behind. It was a blizzard alright. I just hoped it didn’t last too long. We hadn’t packed to be stuck on the mountain for days.
The ranch hands rushed to set up a makeshift camp as fast as they could, everyone working with the practiced efficiency that comes from years of dealing with Montana’s unpredictable weather. They knew what they were doing. Jesse on the other hand… he looked like a lost puppy staring down a bear.
“Come on!” I shouted at him over the wind. “Help me with the tent!”
Jesse nodded, sliding out of his saddle and hitting the ground a bit harder than he intended. He fumbled with the saddle bags, searching for what I assumed was the tent. But it was attached to the other side. I jogged over, not wanting to wait for him to figure it out.
“Get your head out of your ass, Jesse,” I barked, pulling the rolled-up tent out of the leather straps. “Or this snow is gonna bury us.”
Jesse looked at me like I’d just kicked his dog, but he nodded and moved toward me, reaching for the tent. His fingers were already red from the cold, and he was shivering. He wasnotused to mountain weather anymore.
“Where do you want it?” he asked, voice nearly lost in the howling wind.
“Over there!” I pointed to a small clearing between two large pines. “The trees will block some of the wind!”
We struggled with the canvas in the gusting snow, the waxed canvas material snapping and billowing like it was trying to escape. Jesse fumbled with the stakes, his hands clearly numb. I bit back my frustration, reminding myself that he hadn’t done this in years. Still, every second we wasted was another second closer to frostbite.
“Hold it down!” I shouted, driving a stake into the frozen ground with the heel of my boot. “Use your body weight!”
Jesse threw himself across the canvas, finally getting the idea. Together, we managed to secure the corners, though the tent looked more like a drunken sailor’s attempt at origami than proper shelter. It would have to do.
“Get inside!” I ordered, grabbing our saddlebags. “Start setting up the bedrolls!”
The rest of the hands had their own tents up already, working in pairs with practiced movements. Mitch caught my eye as he secured his last stake, giving me a nod that said they were good. At least someone knew what they were doing.
I ducked into our tent after Jesse, zipping the flap closed behind us. The wind still howled, but the canvas walls cut the worst of it. Inside, Jesse was struggling with the bedrolls, his fingers shaking too badly to untie the straps.
“Here,” I said, taking them from him. “Get those wet clothes off before you freeze.”
His eyes widened. “What?”
“Your jacket’s soaked through,” I explained, efficiently untying and unrolling our sleeping gear. “You need to change or you’ll get hypothermia.”
Jesse hesitated, then began peeling off his wet outer layers. I tried not to look, focusing instead on arranging our sleeping bags as far apart as the small tent would allow… which wasn’t more than an inch or so. The memory of this morning’s incident was still too fresh, too uncomfortable. But what choice did I have?
“I’m sorry about the cattle,” Jesse said suddenly, his voice small as he pulled a dry sweater over his head. “This is my fault.”
I paused, surprised by the apology. “What are you talking about?”
“The freezer. Making you wait to bring the herd down.” He gestured toward the tent wall, where snow was building up against the canvas. “If we’d done it when you wanted, we wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. He wasn’t wrong, but blaming him wouldn’t improve our situation. And to be honest, we wouldn’t have been able to afford the freezer without the delay. Despite my reservations, I’d still agreed to the plan.
