Pawliday Love

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

T he world is nothing but a white void. Hot tears filling my eyes further impede my vision. My toes and fingers are dangerously numb as I push through the knee-deep drifts of snow. He’s got to be close, except I don’t even know where I am anymore. The usual familiar landmarks around the family ranch are obscured by the dense snowfall. Visibility worsened by the brutal wind whipping the flakes in a chaotic swirl of white. I can’t give up, though. I’ve lost Holly, I can’t lose River.

I can barely push through the snow anymore, it’s so dense, and my warm boots are too short to stop the snow from sneaking in the tops, leaving me with soaked feet. The wind roars through the evergreens so hard it’s almost forming words. “Everly!” it screams at me.

Great, now I’m hallucinating. The foal should be the least of my worries. My own life is on the line now. I’m lost in the middle of a raging blizzard, and my limbs are freezing up. Every movement is painfully slow, like trying to push through quicksand.

A vicious gust tips me forward, stealing my balance, and I know this is it. If I lose my footing, the snow is going to pull me under until I’ve lost all concept of up or down. I struggle, teetering on wobbly legs when something hard lands on my shoulder and I’m yanked up before I can fall.

I blink, trying to clear away the hallucination, but no. He’s real. He must be. Sawyer Hartman is staring down at me. A long rainbow knitted scarf is wrapped tight around his face, leaving only his bright blue eyes visible, but they’re narrowed in a familiar glare. I’ve seen that look way too many times to mistake it for anything but anger.

“Sawyer.” The words come out in an inaudible croak.

The shifting ground disappears from under my feet as I’m lifted into the air until I’m sitting behind him on the rump of a massive beast. He twists around in his saddle to help me rearrange myself, gloved hands closing over my thigh to lift the numb limb up and over the back of the horse. The warmth of the animal’s body slowly seeps through my soaked ski pants.

Once I’m settled in place, Sawyer drags my arms around his waist, leaning in close to my ear so I can hear him over the roar of the wind. “Hold on tight.”

My eyes fly open. He’s going to take me home, but I don’t have River. I shake my head. “River.”

He blinks at me, anger shifting to confusion, unable to hear my whisper.

I try again, forcing my uncooperative voice to project. “I need to find River.”

He shakes his head at me, anger winning again, and kicks his horse forward. The world sways underneath me as the big Shire strides forward. He has very little trouble forcing his way through the deep snow. If only we had a horse this size on our farm, maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.

Tears are flowing for a different reason now. I’m going to lose my baby. My girl’s baby. I’m going to let her down after I promised I’d look after him. I clutch Sawyer around the waist tighter, laying my head against the thick black material of his winter jacket.

The big guy forces his way through the snow until we finally reach a familiar landmark large enough to see through the storm. The layered gray boulder vaguely resembles a giant wing, and it’s large enough to jut out of the snow. We’re on Hartman land. The Fairy Stone, as we named it when we were children, is not too far from the border between our family’s adjacent properties. And it has always been our guiding star over the years.

He pushes on past the stone, and I realize we’re not heading back toward either of our ranches. But there is a small, protected area of the forest not too far from here. Maybe we’re headed for it. The fear fueled adrenaline is seeping out of my body, leaving me too tired to ask where we’re going, or even to keep my eyes open. My snow-tipped lashes are getting heavier with each step.

The rough scratching sound of needle-tipped branches scraping our coats forces my lids open. We force our way through the forest until we burst through the dense growth into a small clearing I was very familiar with in my past life. Only the little shack we used to visit has grown. A small, tidy cabin is squatting in its place. Constructed of logs, it looks almost like it sprung right out of the forest, and there are two other matching buildings resting beside it.

Our mount picks up his pace a little until we get to the larger building behind the cabin. Three sides hold up the roof, but the front is open with a fence to contain its occupants. Sawyer slides a leg over the horn, dropping to the ground as soon as we halt in the enclosure.

He reaches back up, helping me slide down. My feet shatter into a million pieces when I hit the ground. The cold and the distance were too much for them. The pain takes my breath away and my knees buckle, but Sawyer catches me before I hit the ground. He scoops me up in his arms.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he says to the horse in a gruff tone, carrying me toward the cabin.

It’s still chilly when we walk in the front door, but there’s immediate relief from the whipping wind, and a small nicker catches my attention.

“River!” I squirm in Sawyer’s arms, trying to escape his hold.

He sets me down beside the unlit fireplace. Right beside my baby.

“I’ve got to look after Kingsley. Start taking off your wet things. I’ll be right back in.”

He stomps out of the cabin to tend to his horse while I wrap my arms around mine. I lay my head on his wet black coat, and the pungent smell of damp horse is a beautiful thing. He nips at my coat.

“River. How could you?” My voice is still a little weak, and there’s no bite to my scolding words. I’ve got nothing in me but relief.