You couldn’t live with them, and you couldn’t live without them.

Five minutes later, Pappy’s head hit the pillow. He was asleep within seconds, but his restless sleep was invaded by dreams featuring Sam Rainford, and his dog Alpha following beside her.

He called out, but she didn’t seem to hear him. He called again, and Alpha barked. Loudly and ferociously. She turned, smiled, and waved.

“No!” he shouted. “No! Don’t go there, it isn’t safe. Alpha, bring her back!”

The wolf-dog ran to where Sam was standing. She looked so beautiful in her white ski suit, her long, dark hair swirling around her face. Alpha skidded to a stop and barked, shrilly. Sam reached down to tickle the dog behind his ears.

The red spot confused him at first. Then, his eyes widened in shock as the spot grew bigger and bigger until the whole front of the white suit was splashed with red. Strawberry jam, he thought crazily. He dropped down until he was crawling toward the dog and the woman. Popping sounds were everywhere. Balloons? Guns? “Help me, Kollar. Please, help me,” Sam pleaded.

The smile was gone, the summer blue eyes closed, never to open again. He cradled her in his arms, his own ski suit smeared with the strawberry jam that wasn’t strawberry jam. He struggled to pick her up but realized he couldn’t lift his right arm.

Somehow, with his left hand and Alpha’s superb strength, they managed to pull Sam, to safety, at which point the wolf-dog raced off for help.

Pappy woke, his body drenched in sweat. He threw off the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was gasping for breath.

Alpha lifted his head, eyed his master. Satisfied that he was all right, he dropped his head between his paws and closed his eyes.

Pappy dropped his head into his hands, his own eyes burning unbearably.

Chapter Ten

The cold front that socked the mountain continued for the next four weeks with daily snowfalls, sometimes an inch, sometimes as much as six inches at a time. The bitter cold stayed around, too, the temperature dropping to the low twenties, frequently to single digits.

Pappy was forced to call an undefinite halt to the outdoor routine, concentrating on workouts in the gym and additional classroom studies. No one complained. Like Slick said, you could get frostbite just walking from the dining hall to the classroom. Thanksgiving had come and gone in a blur. There had been the traditional turkey, the plum pudding, and everything that went with a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Even the staff and teams ate together to save Kyros work. With so many people in the dining room, all talking at once, it should have been a lively dinner and evening, but it didn’t work out that way.