Dread rose as she recognized the black-and-white pattern of Smoke’s heavy coat, his face barely visible beneath a layer of snow. Her eyes burned as she crouched and ran a hand over the dog’s cold, still body. She looked up to see Kade standing beside her, long legs splayed, rain slicker blowing in the wind, his jaw as hard as granite.

“It’s Smoke,” Ellie said. “He’s dead.” Her throat felt raw and so tight she could barely force out the words.

Kade crouched beside her, leaned over, and brushed the snow off the dog’s familiar face. Ellie started to help so Kade could take Smoke home when a faint whimper escaped.

“He’s alive!” Ellie shouted into the wind.

Kade scooped the animal into his powerful arms, lifted Smoke against his chest, and started striding toward his horse. “It’s okay, boy. I’ve got you now. We’re going to get you home, and you’re going to be okay.”

Kade stepped into the stirrup, swung a leg over the horse’s rump, and settled in the saddle, holding the dog against his chest.

“Go ahead,” Ellie said. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Kade whirled the big bay and thundered away as Ellie swung up on Painted Lady and hurried to catch up with him. He paused to look over his shoulder, making sure she was all right. Then the big horse leaped forward as Kade raced for the house.

Billy was waiting. It was Friday night. The boy had spent the night instead of going home. His mother worked at a bar in Eagle and didn’t pay much attention to where he was or when he got back. Kade looked out for Billy and kept him safe.

“Is that . . . is that Smoke?” the boy asked. “What . . . what happened? How bad is he hurt? Is he . . . is Smoke gonna be okay?” Billy loved Smoke even more than Kade did. Ellie’s heart went out to him.

“We’re going to do our best, son.” Kade dismounted and strode toward the house, the dog secure in his arms. By the time Ellie had helped Billy take care of the horses, Kade had a blanket draped over the kitchen table. Smoke lay silently on top while Kade examined him.

“Can you tell what’s wrong?” Ellie asked as she walked up to him.

His jaw firmed. “I can tell, all right. Smoke’s been shot. Got to be the same bastard who killed my steers.”

“God, Kade. How bad is it?”

“The bullet entered just in front of his right front leg and kept going. It tore the muscles and tendons, but it didn’t break any bones. He’s hypothermic, and he’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Can we get the vet out here?” Ellie asked.