For Kane and Ian, they had their wife, Emma, to help them pass the time, and with the noticeable way her belly was growing, they'd been quite busy. Andrew and Robert had Ann and their infant son, Andrew, Jr. to keep them quite occupied. It was the bachelors of Bridgewater who endured the long winter nights, alone. I sighed, wondering if Brody and I would ever find the woman for us. It wasn't an easy task, finding a woman who would marry two men, for that was what we'd have—a wife for both of us. That was our way, the way of the men of Bridgewater—find a woman, make her ours, cherish, protect and possess her for the rest of our lives.
I sighed to myself as I shrugged into my shearling coat, flipped up the collar and slipped on leather gloves. A woman wouldn't be appearing tonight, no matter how much I wished for it. As I opened the back door, a blast of frigid air struck me full force, swirling snow into the kitchen. I stepped outside quickly, shutting the door behind me, keeping the warm air inside. On more clement weather, I could see the lights of the other houses off in the distance. Tonight, however, there was nothing but black and white. Stacked beneath the eaves of the house was a pile of wood big enough to sustain us for the winter. Grabbing a few logs, I piled them in my arms, went inside, carried them into the parlor and piled them on the hearth.
"Need help?" Brody asked, still at work.
I shook my head. "Another load here and one in the kitchen. I'm going up to bed when I’m done."
"'Night," Brody replied absently, focused on his work.
Once again in the bitter outdoors, I piled more wood on my forearm. It was as I picked up the last log that I heard a horse whinnying. I paused. All the horses were in the stable for the duration of the storm. They wouldn't survive outdoors on a night like this. No doubt we'd have a cow or two dead by morning. The wind kicked up as snow slid down my neck. Lifting my shoulders, I winced at the coldness against my skin. I was hearing things.
There.
I heard it again. It was a horse. This time the whinny sounded more like a scream. I'd heard it before, a horse in pain. Injured. I looked out into the darkness, but could see nothing. No animal, nothing was in sight, just snow. It was up to my ankles; no doubt the accumulation would build overnight. By morning, the drifts would be waist high if the wind sustained. Had one of the other men missed a horse? Was it wandering out in this weather?
I put the pile of wood back, opened the door and yelled for Brody. He came quickly.
"I heard a horse. I'm going to go look for it."
Brody was surprised. "That's odd. Could be the wind."#p#分页标题#e#
"Could be," I agreed. "I have to check. I don't want to lose an animal to this."
He held up a hand. "You'll need a lantern, and take the rifle." He went to the gun rack where six rifles were vertically aligned on the wall, ready for any kind of emergency. On Bridgewater, there was always a chance for danger. Brody picked one and checked the barrel before handing it to me. He picked up another for himself.
"Give me five minutes, then fire a shot," I told him, ensuring I knew which direction to turn to return. "I won't go far."
"Don't get lost because I don't want to go out in that bloody weather to find you." He grinned.
I couldn't blame him. I didn't want to go out in this weather either. But I had heard a horse. I wouldn't be able to sleep if I didn't check.
After slinging the rifle over my shoulder, I tucked my collar up around my neck again and forged a path out into the snow. After about ten steps, I paused, listening. Wind, nothing but wind. Wait. There. I turned toward the sound, walked in that direction. One minute, then two. Then another. It was slow going in the deep drifts, fighting the wind. I finally saw it. The animal was only about ten feet in front of me, lying on its side. Thankfully it had a dark coat, otherwise I might have missed it. I squatted down by the head, heard it breathing heavily, eyes wide and wild. Sweat coated the animal's fur, even in this weather, and the snow was beginning to cling to it, pile on top of him. The sound that escaped the animal was of pain, almost a tortured scream. It had a bridle, the reins beginning to be covered with snow. A saddle. Which meant there was a rider. Somewhere.
I stood and ran in a quick circle around the animal and found a dark mass in the snow. A man. Was he dead? It would not be a surprise, either from the elements or being tossed from the horse's back. Thankfully, the snow was fairly deep and cushioned the fall. While the horse made agonizing sounds, I put my hands on the dark coat of the silent rider. It was not a broad man's physique I felt, but a narrow waist, flared hips. A woman! Holy hell. A woman was out in weather such as this.