Red Snow Bride

by T. S. Joyce

My brother leveled me with a green-eyed glare. “You know, you used to be all mannerly and boring. What happened to the Jeremiah who wouldn’t rub shit like that in my face?”

  I shrugged. “Lost him I guess. Cheer up, Luke. We’re going hunting.”

  “We ain’t huntin’ for bunnies, Jeremiah. This prey has weapons and logic and itchy trigger fingers.”

  “And we have the element of surprise. They aren’t expecting anyone comin’ after ’em this quick, and they sure as hell aren’t expecting wolves.”

  “We aren’t bulletproof. We can still die, remember?”

  I whistled. “Being married has made you soft! What happened to the Luke who was always itching for a saloon fight? You ain’t exactly a novice at gun fights, little brother. Get your head in the right place or you will be going home in a casket.” I kicked my horse into a slow gallop. “Let’s get this done with so we can get back to ’em.”

  We stopped in Colorado Springs to chat up Elias on the way out about what was happening. Other than that, we steered clear of the small towns and homesteads on the way into the mountains for fear they’d send a rider out to warn Dirty Bill we were coming for him. Instead, we rode through the brush when we could and avoided contact with people as much as we were able. By the second day, we were low on smoked deer meat and the canteens needed a refill. We’d be on them tomorrow if they hadn’t fled the area already, and a good night’s sleep wouldn’t hurt before going into what promised to be a dangerous situation.

  Luke had stalked off into the wilderness and come back with a fat spring pig that had escaped someone’s farm along the way. While it roasted on a spit over the fire, I packed everyone’s sloshing canteens back into their horses’ saddle bags. Sheriff Hawkins sat with his elbow propped on his knee staring off into the fire like it held the answers to the world’s secrets, and Luke squatted near the flames with his hands against the warmth of them. He flipped the collar of his duster up to shield his ears from the cold. The higher we went up into the mountains, the more snow and bitterly cold wind we met.

  “When do you plan on telling your wife what you are?” he asked as I walked by.

  Hawkins looked up from the fire briefly but he already knew the big secret. He wouldn’t have recruited our special talents if we didn’t have any.

  “When the time is right.”

  Luke poked at the fire with a long stick. “You know there isn’t a right time to tell her something like that. It’s best if you do it quick.”

  I snorted. “Like you did?”

  “Yeah, well you could stand to learn from my mistakes.”

  I sat beside him with a sigh of resignation. I really tried my best not to think about telling her, so talking about it in detail sounded about as much fun as the roasting pig was having at the moment. “I have to make sure she won’t run away first. I can’t lose her.”

  “She ain’t running, Jeremiah,” he said quietly. “Any man with eyes can see she loves you somethin’ fierce. You’re stalling is all.”

  The stick between my fingers bent and made a popping sound as I broke it in half. He was right. The time had been ideal for a while now but I’d chickened out time and time again. Every time I’d opened my mouth to tell her I wasn’t human, this whining voice, like the buzz of a mosquito said, you’ll lose her if she finds out what a monster you are. Even if the risk was small, it was still a risk.

  “My wolf lets me in now,” I admitted quietly. “He ain’t so crazy anymore. I forgot what it feels like to hunt as an animal. To enjoy the woods like only an animal can, where my oversensitive hearing and smell make sense. It’s a scary thing to feel like someday soon I could be whole again, and that could be taken away before it happens.”

  Luke inhaled and nodded slowly. “I’d probably be stallin’ too if I had that much to lose.”

  ****

  Lorelei

  Things were downright gloomy around the big house. We’d unanimously decided to live in there until our men came home because it was farther from the entrance to the property and we could each have our own rooms. And it didn’t smell like horse poop, as Daisy pointed out.

  Three sets of waiting eyes never strayed far from the road, and even though we knew it would be five days yet until they were due home, we continued to hope just the same. An apparent guilt consumed Kristina by the second day.

  “I should’ve sent him off with a good memory of me. I should’ve been understanding and given him a proper goodbye.” It was no secret she agonized over their parting moments together.

  She milked the cow while Daisy sewed away at a hole in the hem of her dress with a needle and thread she’d borrowed, and I hauled feed to the horse’s stalls.

  I dropped the bucket and wiped moisture from my forehead with the back of my hand. “Look at us, wallowing here like they’ve died,” I said. “They aren’t dead. They are out for some noble cause to rid the world of evil and we’ve already given up on them. They survived a hanging and a hail of bullets. They survived a train robbery and killed every last outlaw that boarded us, basically with their bare hands. And then they survived a night in the woods with a pack of wild wolves running around trying to eat people. And lord knows what the sheriff has survived.” I arched my eyebrows at Daisy.

  “An awful lot,” she admitted.

  “These aren’t normal men we’ve sent out there. Five more days until they come back. Until then, let’s keep busy and enjoy each other’s company.”

  “Hello,” a man’s voice hailed.

  “Aaaaack!” I screeched.

  Trudy’s husband stuck his head in the barn door. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. You ladies decent?”

  It was so much easier when Jeremiah and Luke were around to hear every little leaf fall from the trees.

  “Yes, yes, come on in,” Daisy waved him over.

  “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” he said as he held out his hand. “Elias Jones.”

  “Lorelei Dawson,” I said, shaking it gently.

  He took off his hat and fidgeted.

  “Take a seat,” Kristina said between pats into the milk pail. “We were just trying to motivate ourselves to be more optimistic about our gallant husbands and their chivalrous missions.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, those husbands are the reason I’m here. They stopped in town on their way into the mountains and asked me to check on you every few days. You ladies need anything?”

  “Have there been any telegrams for any of us at the post office?” Daisy asked hopefully.

  “No ma’am, not unless one’s come in from this morning until now. I checked on it earlier, but nothing.”

  “Who else knows we’re out here alone?” I asked.

  “Just me and Trudy. Trudy wanted to come today but her ankles are all swollen and tender and I told her she needs to take it easy today. She sent me along with dinner though. It’s in the back of the buggy.

  The boys hadn’t had a chance to hunt before they left and the chicken coop was getting low. The prospect of a dinner we didn’t have to cook and of Trudy’s caliber of expertise was enough to make my stomach think it was completely hollow. I felt better already. “Have you eaten, Mr. Jones?”

  “Please, call me Elias.”

  Kristina chirped up with a scrunched face. “Seriously do. Mr. Jones sounds mighty strange.”

  He had a kind smile and laughing eyes and it was easy to see why Trudy had fallen for him. “I have not. I was hoping you’d ask me to stay for a visit.”

  “Let us finish up in here and then we’ll head to the house,” I said with a kind smile. Bless that man and his golden heart for checking on us. The least we could do was offer him the warmth of the fire before he had to make that long trip back into town.

  With the animals taken care of and the barn locked up for the night, we unloaded bound cloth sacks full of panned food and walked back to the house together. Dinner took time to reheat over the fire, so I gave Elias the tour of the house. It still smelled like new
ness and sawdust and was mostly bare of furniture, but the walls kept the wind at bay and the fire warmed the living area in no time.

  Elias gulped his last bite of seasoned ham and said, “Trudy told me to tell y’all to put the leftovers in a sack and tie them up in a tree to keep them safe from bears. She packed enough for a couple of meals and its cold enough outside that it’ll keep. I can do that before I leave if you want.”

  Kristina clapped him on the back. “Much obliged, Elias.”

  He stood and stretched. “I’d better get on the road. I want to get back to Trudy before nightfall. Before I leave, Lorelei, can I talk to you in private?”

  I frowned and set my fork down. “Of course.” I shut the front door gently behind me and waited patiently for Elias to track down whatever it was he was looking for.

  From the pocket of his vest he pulled a folded piece of paper. “Jeremiah said to give this to you.”

  I unfolded the letter carefully.

  I love you. Always will.

  - Jeremiah

  The letter shook in my hands and I fought the stinging tears that threatened to spill over. “What is this?” I asked through clenched teeth. “He’s never told me he loves me, so why would he give it to me in a letter unless this was his way of saying goodbye? Is he giving me closure in case something happens to him? Elias, is this his goodbye?”

  His fair eyebrows lifted and he looked nothing short of frightened. “No, ma’am. I think he was just thinking of you and didn’t want to leave without telling you how he felt.”

  Sniffing, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and tried to smile. My heart hurt that I was reading these words and not hearing them from his lips. “Thank you for bringing me this and for checking in on us today. It was mighty kind of you to think of us.” My voice was thick with emotion but it couldn’t be helped.

  “Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice.

  “I’m fine. I’m so sorry. It’s just hard not knowing what is going on out there.”

  His smile was small and understanding. “My wife would be worrying just the same as you are. They’re strong and able though, Mrs. Dawson. They’ll be fine.”

  Everything in me hoped he was right.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jeremiah

  The snow hadn’t quit the late winter up in the mountains. Here, amongst the crags and cliffs, it was a different world from our home in the valley. The air was thinner and harder to breathe and muscles fatigued faster, requiring Sheriff Hawkins to rest often. We’d left the horses down the hill at the first sounds of a camp up ahead. Someone was up here in the frigid country where no one would willingly inhabit unless they were the occasional mountain man tracking and trapping winter game, or outlaws slipping their nooses.

  I’d heard what Dirty Bill Burton had done to the families he robbed. He’d tortured them until every hard-earned penny was squeezed from them. He’d stolen gold fillings from their mouths with a dirty knife, and then he and his men had raped the women in front of their husbands before he killed them all. He’d murdered countless families who lived on the outskirts of small towns, and all far enough away from civilization where no one would hear the screaming.

  Just the thought of those children in his evil clutches was enough to run my blood hotter than hell fire. The noose was too kind a death for a man like him. It was too kind for any of them.

  With our senses on the camp, we traveled in a circle around them and came out of the scraggly trees that braved yearlong snow above them. They’d been clever about their campsite. There were no trees or places to hide anywhere. Just piles of snow. It meant no relief from the relentless snow and wind for them but it also made it possible to see every mouse move within fifty yards. Unfortunate for human hunters, but not such a problem for a wolf.

  “Dammit,” Luke breathed between me and the sheriff. “Where’s Gable when we need him?”

  Luke was right. We worked well hunting as a pack, and two wolves did not a pack make.

  We were lying on our stomachs, overlooking a small cliff some ways above them when Hawkins said, “I can’t see a damned thing. How many?”

  I ticked the bodies off in my head. “Looks like Burton’s grown his crew by two men. There’s six plus Burton.” I’d never seen him in person before, but I had a wanted poster of him in my pocket and he looked spot on. The long scraggly black hair and gold front tooth gave him away. “Wait,” I said as a man emerged from the tree line some distance off, zipping up his pants. “Seven and Burton. Eight altogether.”

  Hawkins cursed and rolled to his back. “Eight to three. What’re they doing?”

  Luke squinted toward the firelight. “Looks like they’re getting ready to eat supper. Their getaway horses are about fifty yards down the hill from them, tied to a line.

  Their laughter and conversation whipped around on the frantic wind, allowing only bits and pieces to be heard and none that made any sense. I gauged the setting sun through the clouds. If they kept passing around that rotgut whiskey, we’d be all right but either way, we were going to have to settle into the snowcapped hill and wait for them to fall asleep or pass out drunk.

  I turned to Hawkins. “How good are you with a long shot rifle?”

  “Good enough to save your carcasses from a hanging.”

  Fair enough.

  By the time we’d stalked slowly back down the mountain and retrieved the proper weapons, dark had fallen over Colorado. The moon glowed as a pale orb through the cascading clouds, and the sounds from camp were starting to slowly die down. For hours we sat there, waiting for that instinct that would tell Luke and me the moment was right. When the moon shone right above us and after we hadn’t heard any noise from camp bar the movements of two guards and the occasional snoring of the others, Luke headed a hundred yards down the mountain to change. I’d be worthless as a wolf. A half-crazy werewolf completely unreliable. We needed an animal with human logic, and Luke was the monster for the job.

  His fur shone silver, black, and cream in the dim cloud-saturated moonlight.

  I crouched down and spoke low. “We can’t use guns on the sentries or it’ll ruin the element of surprise for the others. Pull one of them into the woods. When they’re taken care of we’ll attack the camp and Sheriff Deadeye over there can pick off any bodies he can get a good shot on.” I turned to Hawkins with as much seriousness as I could muster. “Don’t shoot me or my brother please.”

  He snorted. “You two bickered the whole way here. If I haven’t shot you by now, you’re good.”

  I crept as close as I dared to the camp. Inhuman speed was good and well, but we had to be delicate about this if we wanted to survive it. And thinking of Lorelei standing naked in the moonlight that night by the creek, I definitely wanted to survive it.

  Two lookouts leaned on trees some twenty-five yards apart. The one nearest me yawned and shifted his weight like he was stretching out sore legs. A flash of gray to my left had him jerk his head up with the movement. He cocked his pistol and straightened his spine.

  Another flash.

  “Hey, Duggard,” he whisper-screamed. “I think there’s a wolf out here.”

  “So shoot it,” came the harried reply.

  “Ain’t there only, say, three hundred or so left in these here parts?” he asked.

  And explosive sigh came from Duggard. “Just shoot the damned thing before it brings its friends.” He pushed off from the tree and tramped over to where the first sentry was wading into the woods.

  Luke ran out from a tree further down the mountain and disappeared behind a snow bank.

  “I gotcha, you little bastard,” the man said with a grin in his voice.

  I stilled my breathing as he passed the tree I hid behind. It was Duggard who was my target. He was quieter than the first and if I had to bet, smarter too. His boots crunching through the snow were as loud to me as someone talking in my face. I yanked the gun out of his grasp and wrapped my hand around his throat so tightly he couldn’t
utter a sound before I snapped his neck.

  Luke’s prey hadn’t died so quietly. He’d lunged on his back and as the man fell, his gun went off harmlessly in front of him before Luke’s teeth sank into his spine. The crack of the shot echoed from the cliffs and there wasn’t any time to think. We had to do this now or never and the men in the camp were starting to sit up with questions on their lips.

  “Duggard? Campbell?” One of the men called.

  I drew my pistols. There was no point in being quiet about it now. The first man fell as my Peace Maker found its mark, but the others were already drawing their weapons, and the sparse trees hid me poorly. I fired and missed but a shot rang out behind me and the Sheriff’s aim had been better. Another dropped like a sack of flour, and that’s where things went south for us.

  A flying bullet ripped through my shoulder and rocked me back into the snow and the firing, running outlaws were almost to their horses. I righted myself and bolted to cut them off.

  Burton. I have to find Burton.

  He and his men scattered as soon as they were mounted but I’d seen his horse just before he disappeared into the trees. Luke ran at a graceful lope beside me as shots sailed through the quiet forest. Another stiffened body fell with a thud to the frozen earth, and I hoped to God it wasn’t Hawkins. Trees whooshed by as I gained speed and the sound of another horse’s hooves thundered nearby. Someone from his gang was loyal enough to offer Burton help.

  My shoulder screamed with every pump of my arms and liquid warmth oozed down my ribcage, soaking my shirt, but still, I couldn’t stop. I was so close.

  The other horse was catching up and fast on our other side, and its rider peppered shot after zinging shot at us. Luke cut off and ran for him and just as I launched myself at Burton the other rider found a solid mark.

  A bullet made a different sound when it hit something than when it missed. A miss echoed on and on as the bullet sailed through air and space. A hit made a solid thunk.

  A whine escaped Luke’s throat as his body hurdled into a snow bank.