He thought he heard the horses moving restlessly farther down the ravine and was glad he’d corralled them so far away from the wagon. They might have kept the girls awake during the storm. Then Two would think she’d have to go check on them, and of course he’d have to go with her.

He’d better go check on them early, before he had two or three of the girls following him.

He’d like them to sleep a bit longer, for this morning there was no campfire to warm up around.

As he walked toward the makeshift corral, he realized something was wrong. Maybe some animal was trying to get to them. He’d heard that in cold winters mountain lions would come down this far looking for food.

He heard something strange on the wind. The tiny giggle of a spur. The sound of leather rattling and the shuffling of human feet.

Trouble! That gut feeling he always got. Every nerve in Trapper’s body went on full alert.

He raised his rifle to the ready and moved into a heavy fog that had settled low to the ground.

Just as he turned a bend, something slammed into the back of his head, knocking Trapper to the ground. Someone or something hit the dirt a few feet to his left. Trapper turned left, but the fog blocked a clean shot.

Trapper took one step left as two more men, dressed in western clothes, dropped from above on his right. One man’s knee hit hard into Trapper’s middle, while another’s fist got in two hard blows before Trapper could get in just one.

He was a trained fighter, but so were they. After delivering several blows, two of the men caught his arms, and the third man, with the stance of a boxer, delivered a fist to his chin that knocked back his head.

Trapper’s world went black and he could no longer respond, but the boxer continued hitting as his partners kept Trapper from collapsing.

He hurt in so many places he could barely feel the new blows coming. He was seventeen again, thinking his midnight rides through the lines were exciting. Bullets flew past his ears, but he rode on believing he was somehow saving lives.

Suddenly, in his mind, he couldn’t draw in enough air to breathe and his horse slowed. Now he was running. Not riding for a cause he didn’t understand. Not trying to save lives. Just running.

In his nightmare he was reaching out, trying to touch someone. Running to Emery. He called her name, but the sound never met his ears and night closed in around him. The ground finally rose up to slam against him and all was silent.

When Trapper finally fought his way awake, the sun was high. The first thing he heard was snow dripping as it melted. All was silent around him.