Hard as I tried to catch up, my fort had to be higher because of my size. Muncie ended up throwing the first snowball of the battle.

“Foul!” I cried, leaving my work on the fort and pounding a snowball into shape. “I wasn’t ready.”

Caleb raced around the field, his bark echoing through the crisp air.

I ducked behind my wall as another of Muncie’s snowballs whistled toward me.

Clumps of snow stuck to my mittens as I mashed and shaped snowball after snowball. I surveyed Muncie’s fort, found the weakest point, and pounded it until I’d knocked it down. Caleb jumped over the collapsed wall, barking at Muncie.

Muncie, without any more protection, came forward, closer to the line, trying to score on me. She got my fort down in spite of my efforts to drive her back.

By afternoon, we both dripped—outside as well as inside our winter clothes.

“I surrender,” I said.

Muncie crossed her arms over her snowsuit and gloated.

We brushed the worst of the snow off each other and started up toward home, Caleb leading the way. I heard Ripley yelling for Tyrus somewhere back on his property. We stopped in the field and stared in the direction of the shouts.

Within moments Ripley emerged from the woods.

Caleb came and sat, alert, at my feet.

Red Jackson had warned Ripley to keep Tyrus on a chain after the last sheep kill. He’d said we’d be in our rights to shoot Tyrus if he came after our sheep again. Red swore he’d stop Tyrus for good the next time he saw him loose. But either Ripley didn’t pay attention, or he didn’t have any control over that dog, because it looked like Tyrus had slipped him again.

“You seen my dog?” Ripley yelled.

I shook my head. “How long has he been missing?”

“Since last night,” Ripley said.

I’d checked all the pastures this morning and there’d been no sign of trouble. I worried about the sheep with Tyrus on the loose.

Muncie, standing a little ways behind, bent down, shaped a snowball, and lobbed it toward me. I dodged and the snowball sailed across the road to land near Ripley’s feet.

“You two want to fight?” Ripley yelled, forming a snowball of his own.

“What’d you do that for?” I whispered to Muncie.

Slam! Before I knew what was happening, Ripley’s snowball zipped past me and hit Muncie right in the stomach. Her breath popped out of her like a lamb suddenly born. Muncie doubled over. Caleb ran to her and whined.

“Ripley!” I yelled.

I ran over to Muncie. “You okay?”

Muncie nodded, unable to speak. The material of her snowsuit rubbed against itself, making a nylon song.

Another snowball sailed out of Ripley’s hand and smashed against my leg. The hair rose on Caleb’s back and every muscle tensed.

“Cut it out!” I yelled at Ripley.

“Cut it out,” he mimicked.

Caleb growled. The sound carried in the cold air.