Page 59 of Relentless

Her loud voice snapped Oakleigh to attention. She scrambled to her feet, her boots crunching through the snow as she ran back for the sled. The horses were nowhere in sight, undoubtedly galloping at full speed back to the safety of the barn.

Following Maeve’s strict orders, Oakleigh unzipped her pack and located the radio. She squeezed the button, pulling the walkie to her lips.

“Crew, we need you,” she exclaimed, trying to keep her voice steady. She impatiently waited for a response through the hiss of the radio static.

“Crew, respond, please!”

There came a sharp crackle.

“Well, give me a chance, love,” Crew finally replied. “Everything okay?”

“We’re in the East Pasture, and Sawyer’s down,” she informed him, doing her best to stick to the facts and keep her anxiety from exaggerating the details.

“Are you okay?” he asked quickly. “Maeve?”

“We’re good,” she informed. “Call the doc.”

“Roger that.”

Going to the sled, she gripped the heavy spool of wire and heaved it into the snow. She shoved off the fenceposts and what remained of the tools until there was a clear space for Sawyer to lay. Throwing her leg over the snowmobile, she revved the engine and brought it as closely as she could through the dense trees.

In the time that it took for Oakleigh to return, Maeve had somehow successfully rolled Sawyer onto his back. She was gently patting his bearded face, doing everything she could to rouse him.

“Come on, son,” she insisted. “It’s time for you to come to.” She looked up, connecting with Oakleigh. “We’ve got to get him out of the cold and back home.” Her tone was steady, but her eyes had an uncharacteristic dash of worry.

“I need you to be strong, Oakleigh.”

Although Oakleigh had gained some physical strength with her years of ranch work, she doubted she could lift Sawyer’s dead weight off the ground.

“Maeve, there’s no way,” Oakleigh faltered with a shake of her head.

“We don’t have a choice,” Maeve demanded, her eyebrows pulling together as her calm exterior began to crack.

Oakleigh knew better than to challenge further. She nodded, and went to Sawyer’s side.

Maeve put her arm under his shoulder, and instructed Oakleigh to do the same.

At the count of three, the young woman hoisted with all her might. Despite all the squats she had performed while hauling heavy hay bales, she was wholly unprepared to deadlift a cowboy out of the snow. She glanced at her counterpart, who was doing fractionally better.

Maeve was admittedly stronger than her, but even she was struggling to gain more than an inch.

“We’ve got this, Oakleigh,” she encouraged.

“Wedon’t,Maeve,” Oakleigh replied, dousing her delusion with a dose of reality.

With one last heave, Maeve’s boots slipped from under her, sending Sawyer slamming back to the ground.

“Bear,” Sawyer groaned.

Maeve exhaled in relief, choking down the emotion in her voice. “You alive, son?”

The Callaways were the only ones who could seem to find humor, even during a crisis.

“I’m alive,” he strained, clutching his ribs. “There’s a bear off in those trees,” he grunted. “The horse spooked.”

As though the bear had been summoned by Sawyer’s call, another deep growl resonated through the trees. Oakleigh’s eyes went wide, feeling vulnerable and exposed as the menacing sound vibrated through her bones.

The firearms were packed on the horse’s saddles, but they were likely miles away by now, safely tucked away in the corrals.

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