Wildest Dreams - By Rosanne Bittner Page 0,33

hunting for game. Animals after an easy meal made that job easy for him.

She folded the shirt she had been ironing and laid it aside. She glanced at the mantle clock her mother had given her, which sat on a shelf against the wall. Two a.m. She and Luke should both be asleep, but the wicked winter weather had totally upset their normal schedule. Lettie could not sleep because of the constant wind and the feeling of being buried alive. Sometimes she feared that if she went to sleep, perhaps she would never wake up again. She and Luke and Nathan would lie in this frozen wasteland, their bones found years later. If she stayed awake, she wouldn't die; she wouldn't be lost forever to civilization. Were there really other people out there somewhere? Were there really cities? Theaters? Railroads? Churches? Schools? Were her parents and family happily settled in Denver now, near supply stores and doctors, banks and eateries?

She set the iron back on the stove, checked on Nathan, who slept soundly on his bed. The boy didn't seem at all distressed by being buried up here. Thank God he was a good boy. He took pleasure in the simplest things, like a tin cup and some little stones. He thrilled in going out with Luke into the winter wonderland just outside the door. He had no problem with cabin fever. Will and Henny had warned them about that before they parted, told them they'd have to guard against the loneliness that would hit them before winter was over.

She walked to the front door, leaned against it. It wasn't just the loneliness that made her want to scream, this aching need to have a nice visit with another woman, to go to town and see other people; what troubled her the most was this constant fear that something would happen to Luke, or that there would be an avalanche and they would all be buried alive, that they would all either freeze or starve to death before the snow ever melted enough for them to get back to town and restock their supplies. She reminded herself there was plenty of meat, but as the snow continued to fall and the loneliness and isolation set in even deeper, no supply of food seemed to be enough. If Luke were to get hurt... or die... she wasn't even sure how to get back to town, and here she was four months pregnant.

She looked down and touched her belly, which was just beginning to swell. What if the baby came early? Even if it didn't, there was no doctor in Billings, and they were so far from town and from Will and Henny. Who would help her? What if Luke was off hunting when the baby came?

She listened at the door, worried about Luke. He had gone out two hours ago with his rifle, determined to lie in wait for the cougar that had returned a few nights ago to raid the chickens and cause havoc among the other animals. Every night since then Luke had watched for the cat's return, and every time he went out, Lettie lived in terror. Maybe he would miss, be attacked himself.

There was no use looking out the one and only window. Wood was stacked against it. She thought how hard Luke had worked cutting and storing that wood, from dawn to dark for weeks. Now it was piled on the little front porch and far beyond. The tar paper and stacked hay bales around the cabin helped protect it against the fierce winds, but the snow had fallen so deep that it came nearly to the rooftop, creating a natural insulation that worked much better than the hay.

There was nothing to hear, nothing but the constant moaning wind and the swishing sound of new snow drifting and whispering against the door. She turned away, ducked through and around the maze of clothes, took down another shirt to iron. She had just folded it when she heard the distant screech of the cougar. A chill moved through her, and she set the iron back on the stove and hurried to the door. There it was—another shrieking growl, then a gunshot. A second gunshot!

"Luke!" she whispered. She grabbed a cloak from a hook near the door and ran out, putting it on as she ran through the tunnel-like pathway toward the shed. "Luke!" This time she screamed his name. God, it felt good to scream. Yes, that