Spring faded to summer, then winter. Icy winds, deep drifts of snow and frigid temperatures overtook the mountains. Sheltered in the cozy safety of her cottage, the girl continued alone. Growing toward womanhood, her natural grace and humor were tempered by the constant isolation. Subtle changes in her personality went quite unnoticed until the following spring.

In the welcome warmth of sunlight, she rode one of the mares back from White Rock, the blue roan carrying her supplies. Bundled in a sheepskin coat, a cap with earflaps hanging from a cord around her neck, she was enjoying the freedom and fresh air. The abrupt lift of the mare's head startled her. Slowing down, the horse gave a soft, suspicious whinny. Tugging the rifle free of it's boot in the saddle, the young woman stiffened.

The horse was looking toward home. A quick glance back confirmed it. The stallion's head was up, nostrils flared as he pawed the ground in agitation.

"Okay," she soothed them quietly. "Let's take it easy. No use warning whoever's up ahead we're here."

Sliding from the mare, she took the reins, walking softly with the rifle ready in her hands. They crossed the tracks first. A shod horse passed through here less than an hour ago. Kneeling, her gloved finger traced lightly over the bent grass. Because of the cold, it hadn't righted itself yet, pointing away from the valley.

She'd learned that horses stepped in such a way that the grass bent in the opposite direction the animal was going. If a body didn't know better, they'd follow the way the grass went, all the while getting farther from their target. Carefully scouting the ground, she confirmed it was a single rider. One that rode cautiously, sticking to shady patches and bare ground where available. That meant only one thing to her.

Whoever it was wanted to sneak in. Grimly, her full lips thinned into a hard line, steely gray eyes lifting.

"If you want to play hide and seek, I'll play along." Tying the reins loosely around the mare's neck, she moved off on foot, staying low. The horses would make their way to the valley in their own time.

It took almost an hour to work her way up the last ridge and through the narrow rock passage the led into the higher slopes of the valley. Below her, the cottage sat in plain sight, deceptively still. Her skin tingling in alarm, the girl didn't move. Something wasn't right, but she couldn't place it immediately. Carefully studying the ground she could see, it suddenly hit her.

"Clever," she muttered, easing forward. Whoever it was had ridden in, which meant there should have been tracks in the snow still on the ground. There weren't any, not even the ones she'd left behind early this morning leaving for White Rock.

Sound carried farther in the cold, still air, and she heard the soft thud of a closing door, then footsteps. A moment later he appeared, a stranger in a knee length fur coat. She guessed his horse to be somewhere on the other side of the cottage, since she couldn't see it. When he strode toward the shack, she stiffened.

The fact he'd been prowling around inside her home was bad enough, but now – when he opened the door she sat up, abruptly realizing what was about to happen. The chests! They were stacked on the wall just inside the door. A single look inside and he'd know her secret. Taking sight with her rifle, the girl was about to put a warning shot across his shoulder when the door opened, blocking her view.

Muttering angrily, she took a chance and broke from the cover of the trees, racing in a loose half-circle to get a better angle on the shack. Panting, feeling sweat begin to gather beneath her clothes, she skidded to a halt, flattening to the snow as the intruder came back into sight. Studying something in his hands, she heard him grow more and more excited, finally letting out an enthusiastic whoop. Angry now, she lifted her head, shifting to lay the rifle along the snow, sighting along the barrel.

"Second mistake, mister," she whispered. "That's mine."

The sharp crack slapped against the trees, the stranger jumping like he'd been bit. He dove for the cover of the shack, but she'd anticipated that, rolling farther to one side. It gave her a clear view as he pulled a pistol out from inside his jacket.

"Let's talk!" He hollered, staying low. Nostrils flaring, she coolly aimed for the doorframe next to his head. Splinters broke off, flying in every direction as her next bullet hit. He swore, scrambling farther back.

"Now, wait a second!" His shout was hoarse. "This here is treasure money! I got as much right to it as you! Ever'body knows it was stole-!"

Fury curled her features into a black snarl. Without letting him finish she fired again. Agitated though, her aim was wide, the thunk of lead against the wooden wall loud. Realizing where the shots were coming from, the stranger rushed from the shack, firing bullets as he broke into a run for the far corner of the cottage. Something caught the fur cap, giving it a hard tug. By the time she recovered from the shock of being shot at, the man had disappeared from sight.

"We can be partners!" The yell came from beyond the cottage. "Split the take fifty-fifty! What'dya say?"

'Die', she muttered silently. 'I'm not giving anything to a no-good thief.'

Crawling toward the cottage, she stayed low, pausing frequently to listen. Nothing. Where had he gone? Would he have just ridden off with a single coin? Unease prickled along her shoulders, scalp tingling as the silence grew heavier.

Where was he? A soft creak warned her almost too late. Sunlight flashed off the metal barrel. Hurling herself to one side, she heard the hard bark of his pistol an instant before searing heat bit into her arm. Gritting her teeth in a pained scream, she sat upright, jerking the rifle up.

"You're a girl-?!" but she was already firing, working the lever smoothly until it sounded like the roar of thunder in her ears. The empty chamber clicked, making her blink rapidly, heart pulsing so hard it hurt. Flopped over the open windowsill, the intruder's blood dripped into the snow. The pistol dangled uselessly from limp fingers.

Beginning to tremble, tears of shock and pain flooded her eyes as she tried to stand up. Knees wobbling, she collapsed back into the snow, shivering. She'd just killed someone. He'd stolen something from her, shot her, and she'd killed him. Tummy rolling, she swallowed hard, clenching her jaw tight.

"No," mumbling the sound, she forced herself upright. "I'm not feeling guilty about it. I won't feel sorry for you. Trespasser. Thief. Liar..." just then she realized why she was so angry.

He'd said the gold was stolen. That meant her parents had either taken the gold, or knew it wasn't rightfully theirs. Either way, the girl didn't believe it. Even without being able to recall them, she refused to believe anything so vile. However the gold came to be here, it was lawful.

Sniffling, wiping a sleeve across her nose, her chin lifted. Her arm hurt bad, and she began to feel warmth seeping into her clothes, oozing down her skin.

"Never been shot before," she mused, craning her head to see. A large gap was torn into the sleeve of her coat, the layers beneath wet with blood. "I don't much care for it."

Barely had she tugged the man's body from the window, letting it plop into the snow, when she heard the approaching pound of hooves. Flying around the corner of the cottage, she raced to the shack, hurriedly reaching for a box of rifle shells, reloading the spent chamber. Trembling, cold, the wound stinging wickedly, her temper was short. Priming the rifle, she leaned against the doorframe, peering toward the sound of riders.

Four were coming, strangers. They jerked to a stop when bullets kicked up snow and earth beneath their horse's hooves.

"Not another step!" She shouted angrily. "You wanna live, you turn around now and get!"

"Miss!" One of them lifted his rifle, a white bandana tied to the barrel. "We're peaceable! It's Tyler!"

"What do you want!" She snapped, suspicious. "I told you not to come here!"

"We was ridin' the line an' heard gunfire. I knew you was here somewhere, an' we was worried," voice steady, he let the sorrel take a step forward. "Are you alright?"

"What's it to you!"

"We're neighbors, miss," gentle now, he eased from the saddle, moving to stand in front of his horse. Too far away to see his expression, still, she had the feeling he was being honest. "What sort of menfolk would ride on, knowin' a girl alone might be in trouble?"

"You tell them with you to get!" She ordered shakily. "If you're a mind to, you can stay, but shuck your guns!"

Turning his head, she watched as he spoke to the men behind him. Warily, uneasily, they backed away, slowly riding back the way they'd come. Tyler carefully uncinched his gun belt and hung it over the saddle of his mount, the rifle barrel down.

"They'll come lookin' if I don't show by mornin'," he called. "Just so you know."

"You won't be here that long," her retort was less venomous now. Once they were out of sight, she moved forward, the rifle gripped in both hands. His dark eyes instantly went to her bloody sleeve.

"You're hurt."

"I'll manage."

"Do you know how to treat a bullet hole?"

"Yes." Walking slowly toward him, her features were pale from shock and pain. "You've seen me, mister. Now get."

"Are you serious? You're bleed-"

"If you don't start moving, I won't be the only one."

"Easy, girl," he soothed, lifting his hands again, the rifle left leaning against his leg. "I ain't a threat. Not even a little."

"How can I be sure," gritting it out, tears burned her eyes. At such a tender age, she'd been forced to grow up too fast. It was showing now, the barrel of her rifle beginning to waver. Tyler saw it but didn't move.

"You decide for yourself, girl. If you ain't goin' to believe me, nothin' I do will make you."

"I..." swallowing hard, the lump in her throat was painful. "I got..."

A neigh sounded just then, and they both looked. The mare with the blue roan in tow appeared over a sloping hill. Her head was up, ears perked. Tyler's sorrel answered but the stallion charged forward, ears laid back. His challenge was abruptly halted by the rope tied to the mare, who neighed in protest at the violent tug. The supplies on his back were a mild nuisance in the presence of a strange horse. Sharp hooves dug into the earth as he pawed furiously, bugling loudly.

Eyeing Tyler, she moved toward them, shivering.

"Easy now," murmuring softly, her soothing tone was familiar, and both horses looked toward her. "Everything's okay. Just calm down."

"Miss-"

"Don't move," she ordered without looking. "They don't really take to strangers."

"I can tie my horse up behind the cottage if that'll-"

"No!" Her sharp cry startled everyone, but she whipped around, face pale. "Don't go near there!"

"Okay," he still hadn't moved, but she was close enough now to see true concern in his eyes. "Take it easy, girl."

He began to get the feeling she was just as wild and free as the horses she was trying to soothe. The same wary, untrusting look brimmed in her eyes that they had.

"They'll be fine for a bit, but if your arm ain't cared for soon, it'll fester. Then you get sick. It'd be best to not let it get that far."

"I can handle it."

"Sure, you can," his smile was easy. Calm. "But who says a little help ain't a good thing?"

"I'll kill you, mister," a large tear startled him as it escaped, dripping slowly down her cheek. "If you give me the smallest cause, I'll kill you."

"I won't hurt you." Palms up, gloved fingers spread, he took a step toward her. "I swear it, Miss."

Shivering, her eyes nearly feral, she let him approach until he stood close enough to touch the torn fabric of her jacket. Appraising eyes studied the wound briefly.

"Will you let me see it?"

"Back up." He did, and she gingerly peeled from the jacket sleeve, adjusting to hold the rifle where she could still easily use it. Tyler didn't miss the silent warning. The sleeve of the cream-colored tunic she wore was soaked with blood. Concern hardened his features.

"I need to see it. If I cut off the sleeve, you won't shoot me, will you?"

"No,"

Retrieving a knife from his saddlebags, he approached her slowly, keeping the blade down. Gray eyes were razor sharp, the fingers nearest the rifle trigger quivering.

"Don't shoot me," he urged kindly, reaching up to slice through the fabric at her shoulder. It fell, pooling around her wrist, revealing a raw wound. Relief flooded his features.

"A graze," gently probing the torn flesh, he made sure the bullet wasn't lodged beneath her skin. "It'll hurt plenty, but I reckon it'll heal quick."

"Thank you."

"I can wrap-"

"No." Shaking her head, the girl backed up. "I don't want your help, mister. I can do it myself."

"You got a lot to handle with a busted wing, miss." He pointed out. "I figure there's a body 'round here somewhere that'll need buryin', horses to unload, supplies to put away, and a wound to care for. You're mighty handy, that I can tell, but..."

She waited, but he didn't attempt to finish. After staring at him for a moment, she nodded toward the stallion, who'd been glaring unhappily.

"If he'll let you, I'd be obliged if you'd get the supplies on the porch. I can do the rest."

Going into the cottage, she went about warming water to bathe the wound before working up a poultice to spread on it. By the time she'd wrapped it and pulled a new tunic on, Tyler had the supplies stacked neatly on the wooden porch. She met his eyes, features stiff with uncertainty.

"Thanks kindly, mister."

"Miss," a smile teased the corner of his mouth. "I get the feelin' you gave me the hard job on purpose."

Frowning as he chuckled, she followed the line of his arm toward the roan. The horse's ears were laid flat, nostrils flared wide as he stared menacingly at the cowhand.

"He don't like me none."

"It's not you." Smiling a little, she moved onto the porch as he respectfully backed up. "They don't like strangers."

"Well, I'll be goin', if that's all you need."

"Goodbye." Firm, there was no hesitation or give in her tone and expression. "Thanks for your help."

"Sure thing." Going to his horse, he stepped into the saddle, wheeling the gelding around. With an arm raised, he called goodbye before heading off at a slow gallop.

Watching until he was out of sight, she leaned against the wooden rail with a sigh. They knew where she was. Unease settled into her bones but looking down at the neatly stacked boxes and sacks, she couldn't help but smile. Tyler was shaping up to be a genuine man. Her hopeful heart tugged at her, murmuring that those he kept company with might be the same.

Working late into the afternoon, she got everything put away, the horses rubbed down and loved, the body dragged from the window and up into the trees. Burying him was out of the question with the wound on her arm. The ground was still icy from the winter frost, so that left a problem.

"What to do with you," chewing on her lip, she looked around. Then it hit her. Calling to the black mare, she tied a rope around his feet, swung onto the horse bareback, and dragged the body from the valley. Up into the bare slopes and rugged peaks, she didn't stop until reaching a barren stretch of granite. Sliding down, she untied him then immediately searched his pockets for the coin. Finding it, she scowled at the body.

"Serves you right, you know."

Walking away with the mare in tow, she didn't look back. Her mind was preoccupied with another problem. He hadn't been the first, and likely wouldn't be the last. The gold coins weren't safe at home anymore, but what to do with five huge chests? Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she thought that over on the way back home.

The answer came to her about half a mile from the hidden pass. The cougar's print was plain the crisp snow, heading into the slopes above the valley. Following the trail with her eyes, the young woman began to smile. It was unorthodox, but what in her life was normal? This could work.

Keeping the mare with her, she followed the trail carefully, listening for any sound or smell. It would be a bad idea to startle the cat. Up above the tree line, following a game trail across the face of loose shale, she found it. A slim path that led to a cave with a wide overlook of the entire range. Cougars had a natural liking for lairs with a view.

Calling out to make sure the lion wasn't home, she eased into the cave. The entry was low but after only a few feet it widened out enough for her to stand. Moving to the back wall, she ran her hands along the cragged rock, surprised to find a large nook in the back. A natural cove that was large enough for what she wanted. Smiling, she left the cave, patting the mare's neck.

"Will you help me, pretty girl? I need to move some things up here over the next few days."

Blowing softly, the big horse nuzzled her cheek, rubbing stiff whiskers against her chin. Giggling, she hugged the horse's neck.

"Thank you, my friend."

Watching the sunset turn the horizon into vibrant flames of pink, amber, and gold, she sighed. Then frowned. Whatever happened to the stranger's horse?

She found it on the way back to the valley. Or what was left of it. The stranger had hitched it to a low-slung branch of a pine, that much obvious by the wood snarled in the traces of reins. A grizzly had come across it, and the hitched gelding hadn't been able to escape in time. After dragging the carcass off to feed, the bear had scraped leaves, mud, and debris over the cache to hide it for later.

Deciding nature had lent a helping hand, she determined any interference on her part would only cause more work for herself.

"Sorry, boy," her murmur was faint as she rode on. "You got the short end of it, and it wasn't your fault."

Beneath her, the black mare flicked her ears, tossing her head. It made the young rider giggle. Strong fingers twisted into the thick mane as the girl leaned forward, whispering a few words of agreement. As if shot from a cannon, the black horse bolted forward, covering ground like a scared rabbit. Her laughter floated on the wind behind them, fading with the pound of hooves.

The bodies would disappear with time. Wounds would heal, scars fading, but the memories would stay a lifetime. Memories that shaped how she viewed the world, and what she must do in order to survive in it.