Page 24 of Clashing Moon

The exertion kept me warm, other than my exposed face. But if we kept moving, we’d be fine.

My feet sank with each step, sometimes plunging deeper than I’d expected. At one point, I stumbled, nearly tumbling forward. But Rafferty’s hand shot out, steadying me, his grip firm.

A few minutes later, I slipped for the third time, nearly disappearing into a hidden snowbank. He came charging toward me, holding out his hand and yanking me to my feet.

“That was scary,” I said.

“You’re okay,” he said. “You’re tough.” When I looked up, his face was close to mine, his eyes warm and reassuring.

They anchored me. Gave me the courage to keep going. I nodded. “I’m ready.”

We continued down the hill, one foot at a time. Finally, as we rounded a bend, I caught sight of my father’s ranch down below, the roof and the outline of the barn barely visible beneath thick piles of snow. I stopped and bent over my knees, breathing heavily, frightened of what awaited me.

Rafferty paused beside me, and when I glanced at him, he was looking down at me with tenderness. “We’ll find him. One way or another. I’ll stay with you every step of the way.”

“Thank you.” I felt a sudden, overwhelming wave of gratitude for this man who had been my companion for almost twenty-four hours. He’d never complained or wavered. Steady as they come.

Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders in a quick, grateful hug. “I couldn’t have made it without you,” I whispered, near tears.

His arms hesitated, then wrapped around me, our puffy coats a barrier between us. “Whatever you need. Whenever you need, I’ll be here. You won’t be alone.”

“Thank you.”

Together, we turned toward the ranch, each step bringing us closer to home and the truth of what had happened to my father in the worst storm we’d ever witnessed.

As we reachedthe edge of the property, something caught my eye. Near the barn—something dark and out of place against the blinding white.

A flash of red-and-black flannel.

I stopped, my breath freezing in my throat. Rafferty followed my gaze, and he sighed and cursed under his breath. There was no doubt. It was my father half-buried in snow, his form slumped, still, almost swallowed by the drifts around him.

“No, no, no,” I whispered. Somehow, my legs carried me forward, yet stumbling as I tried to run. I fell, then got back up.One foot in front of the other, I told myself.Stay calm.Raffertyreached him first. He fell to his knees beside my father, feeling for a pulse we both knew would not beat.

I finally got to them, plunging into the snow to kneel by my father’s body. I pressed my hands to his cold, unmoving shoulder. His face was pale, his eyes closed, the faintest shadow of a peaceful expression frozen there.

“Why was he here?” I asked. “How did we not see him?”

I pressed my hands to his chest and then his grizzled face, unable to tear my gaze away. He was gone. There was no life left to witness in his corpse. How he’d ended up here, so close to the barn and yard we’d combed over, I couldn’t begin to understand. And yet here he was, lying in the snow as if he’d simply sat down and fallen asleep.

Sobs racked my body, tears hot against my frozen cheeks. “Dad, what did you do? What did you do?”

6

RAFFERTY

While we were cocooned away at the cabin, I’d been able to convince myself that Mr. Collins would be fine. I wasn’t sure how, obviously, but I’d had faith that he’d somehow found his way back to the house without getting as terribly disoriented as Arabella, and I feared he had. However, seeing his dead body lying in the snow left little doubt. He’d indeed wandered off somewhere and had not found his way back to safety before the storm. His skin was pale, and his lips tinged with that unmistakable blue that told me he’d been dead for hours. Most likely, the entire night.

Watching Arabella sob over his body brought tears to my own eyes. Regardless of how he’d treated her, he was her father. She’d given up her entire future to come home and take care of him. She’d loved him. I wasn’t sure if he’d been capable of returning it, but that wasn’t the point.

I reached into my pocket to pull out my cell phone to see if we had service. We did. There were countless calls from my mother, brothers, and my nurse. They’d obviously been worried. I’d call them in a moment, but I had to contact the sheriff first.

I placed my hand on Arabella’s back. She flinched but looked up at me. The pain in her eyes made my chest ache. “We need to call the sheriff. Is it all right if I do that now?”

She nodded, her face crumpling as she turned back to her father.

I stepped a few paces away and found Sheriff Winthrop’s contact in my phone. Sadly, I had it in my favorites. He was usually the first call I made after the death of one of my patients. He answered right away, sounding raspy and exhausted as if he’d been up all night.

“Rafferty? Are you all right? Your mother’s been a wreck.”