Saddle Up: a Cedar Ridge Ranch novella

CH 9: "The Cabin"

Struggling with Garland had gotten Heff's blood circulating, vanquishing the deadly warmth that was seeping through his body. Heff felt the cold again—down to the marrow of his bones. He clung to Garland, teeth chattering, and breath labored as the arctic air froze his lungs. He feared the hound would freeze to death before it found its way home... if it even knew the way back through the blizzard. The continual tug of the lead rope alerted Heff the animal was still moving forward—but in which direction? Did the hound know... or was it traveling blindly?

The rope abruptly went slack, and the gelding halted. Heff could see nothing through the wind and snow, though he thought he heard the heavy swoosh of the massive evergreens swaying in the storm, their thick limbs whipping in the wind. He was close to the tree line. Was it safer in the woods? Greater shelter from the storm?

Heff feared the slack lead rope meant the dog had gotten loose. He tugged on the rope—and felt resistance. What if he couldn't take the cold anymore... and collapsed? Heff loosened one arm from around Garland and patted his numb thigh with a numb hand. "B-Boy? What is-is it?" Heff stuttered as his teeth continued to chatter, the tendons in his throat quivering. "Y-You okay, b-boy?"

The hound whined... then let out a short bay—and the rope tugged forward. Heff nudged the gelding with his heels and the horse followed after the dog. They'd hardly gone ten feet or so when the rope slackened again, and the gelding stopped. What was up with the hound?

Making sure Garland was secure in the saddle, Heff carefully slid off the gelding's back—again collapsing on the ground as his numb legs gave out beneath his weight. Using the rope as his guide, he crawled toward the dog. The hound stood still, shaking with cold, and bayed a second time.

What if it's a bear?

Heff suddenly felt vulnerable on the ground. The wild animals would take shelter in the trees... wouldn't they? He didn't know much about the behavior of predatory animals but it seemed an instinctual strategy.

A fresh fear invading him, Heff looked up, following the hound's focus. Just into the trees a few yards, a huge shadow loomed—much larger than a bear. Heff squinted as snow flung into his eyes. What was he looking at...?

The hound darted forward and Heff staggered to his feet, stumbling after the dog, tripping and falling every few paces... until finally collapsing before a door.

A cabin.

The hunting cabin. He'd forgotten it was out here. Heff grabbed the hound, who stood pawing at the door, and hugged the animal, kissing its head, choking back sobs. "You did it, boy."

Heff crawled to his feet, renewed hope keeping him upright, and hurried back to the horse. He led the gelding forward, bringing it as close to the cabin door as possible. The hound raced inside the cabin as soon Heff unlatched the door and pulled it open. A quick glance through the one-room cabin revealed one cot, a fireplace, a small, kitchen-type area, and not much else. It was enough.

Unhooking Garland's feet from the stirrups, Heff wasn't sure how to hoist him off the horse with the man unconscious, but he had to get him out of the weather and warmed up. Reaching up, Heff wrapped his arms around Garland's waist and gently slid him out of the saddle. The weight of his slack body was too much for Heff and he tumbled down on top of the young man, taking them both to the ground. Heff gasped and spit out snow and rolled Garland off him.

Half crying, half cursing, Heff grabbed him beneath the arms and dragged him toward the cabin door, inch by inch. Heff collapsed at the doorway with Garland partly in his lap, panting and sobbing. He was so heavy... like dead weight.