through Luke's activity. She felt wonderful, relaxed, more at ease than she had in weeks. It was amazing what one night of spilling one's feelings and making love could do for a person. She combed her hair and twisted it into a bun, put on a clean dress. Today, finishing the ironing didn't seem like such a terrible chore. She took down most of the clothes. It occurred to her that something was different, but she couldn't figure out just what it was.
The door opened then, and Luke came inside carrying Nathan, who clung to his horse. "Well, Mommy is finally awake!" Luke exclaimed. He set Nathan down and the boy ran to her. Lettie picked him up and gave him a hug and a kiss.
"Mommy, shine!" he told her, pointing toward the door.
Lettie frowned. "Shine?"
"Come on outside. Nathan and I have something to show you," Luke answered.
"Don't you two want breakfast?"
"It will only take a few minutes." Luke threw her heavy shawl to her and took Nathan back into his own arms.
When Lettie had put on the shawl, she followed them both outside. She realized when they got into the tunnel of snow that above it was a clear, blue sky. "Sunshine!" she exclaimed.
"That's what Nathan was trying to tell you," Luke answered. He climbed up a stairway of snow that he had dug from the tunnel so that a person could stand on top of it. He plunked Nathan on top, and the boy fell giggling into the snow. Luke took Lettie's hand and helped her up.
Lettie smiled in startled pleasure, realizing they were standing as high as the roof of the cabin. Glorious sunshine lit up the land for miles around, snow-capped mountains, sprinkled with the deep green of pine trees. Everything sparkled, and there was actually some warmth to the sunshine. "Oh, Luke, isn't it beautiful!"
"You see all that?" He waved his arm. "It's all going to be ours, Lettie. Someday I'll own this land for as far as you can see, and right down there in the valley is where our home will be, a big house, two, maybe three stories, lots of rooms for all the kids, lots of land for all the cattle. You've got to admit it's damn pretty."
"Oh, Luke." She turned in all directions. "Why didn't we think of climbing up here to see everything before? We've stayed buried in the cabin, making our way through tunnels like moles, when we could have been climbing up top and enjoying this wonderful freedom."
"This is the first nice day we've had since the snows started coming. And we've been so busy—" He put his arms around her from behind. "There's something else different. Do you realize what it is?"
She shook her head, puzzled, remembering that she had sensed something different as soon as she awakened.
"Listen, Lettie. Just listen."
She stood still, listening for a sound, then realized there was no sound. The air was utterly still, so quiet it almost hurt her ears. "No wind!" she said softly. "There's no wind!" She walked through soft snow that glittered like a fairyland, her feet sinking in some places, so that finally she just sat down in the snow and listened... to nothing... a glorious, wonderful quiet that brought tears to her eyes.
She looked back at Luke, her rock. He had remained calm through her fit of nerves last night, when he could have shouted right back at her. "Thank you, Luke." She threw her head back and breathed deeply. "For bringing me out here."
"Spring is just around the corner, Lettie."
She nodded. "Yes, it surely is."
CHAPTER 7
Lettie took another blanket from the clothesline Luke had strung up for her outside. Spring had come just as suddenly as winter had, rapidly melting the snow through the month of April, at least in these lower elevations and in the valley even farther below, which at the moment was so full of water that part of it had turned into a small lake. Not too far from the cabin water rushed down from a mountain above, fresh, cold water. One simply needed to walk to the rocks where the waterfall was and hold the bucket under it. Luke was afraid the plentiful water would disappear or at least dwindle to a trickle in summer, but for now it was a godsend. All winter they had gotten their water by melting snow, or by bashing through the ice of a distant stream, a stream which now was more like a