Read Blizzard: Colorado, 1886 for Free Online Page B

relentlessly uphill. Hadyn stopped only once, to take out the corn bread he had brought. Then he ate as he walked, the food reviving him.
    At the top of one ridge, the snow suddenly gave way to dark, uneven rock. Hadyn slowed, uncertain what to do. The tracks were impossible to see here. He searched the trees ahead, hoping for another glimpse of the sorrel horse, a chance to shout at its rider. He could see nothing. Hadyn glanced at the sky. The clouds were thicker and darker now. Snowflakes battered at his face.

Chapter Six
    Maggie shifted in her saddle and squinted up at the sky. It was snowing harder now. If she left the road to look for Hadyn, she could end up in trouble too. But what else could she do? Even if the Cleaves, or the McAllisters, or the folks at the Elkhorn Lodge were willing to come immediately, it’d be late afternoon before they really got started—if the storm let them search at all. And Hadyn had already been out all night. . . .
    Maggie pressed her heels into Rusty’s sides. He grunted, startled at her sudden decision, reluctant to step off the road into the drifted snow. She leaned down close to his long, shaggy ears. “Rusty, you have to be good today. I am about as scared as I have everbeen in my life.” She rocked her weight forward, digging her heels into his ribs. Slowly, Rusty gave in, lifting his hooves high in distaste as the snow deepened.
    Maggie was heading straight into the wind at first. Rusty plodded along, ignoring her pleas to go faster. He walked with his head low, his ears pinned back. Maggie skirted a rocky area, then found Hadyn’s tracks on the far side and followed them again. Where Hadyn had waded drifts, Maggie had to get off and lead Rusty through. He balked at the icy touch of the snow on his belly.
    The storm was getting worse. Maggie looked behind herself every few minutes. Rusty’s tracks were filling in. In an hour or two, if it kept up, they would be covered completely. Over and over, Maggie looked up at the sky to orient herself, then remembered that the sun was hidden by the thick, snow-heavy clouds.
    Maggie came to a rotten aspen snag that looked like an old lightning strike. More than half the trunk was blackened. Beside it, Hadyn’s tracks stopped, turned, then stopped again. Maggie rubbed her hands together, pressing hard. She kept at it long enough to feel a little warmth coming back into them. Thenshe tightened her collar and pulled her hat down over her ears. How far could Hadyn have gone? He was headed straight away from the road now.
    Maggie remounted. The thick stand of aspens ended at the base of a steep slope. Hadyn’s tracks veered off to the north. Even though the wind had softened them, blurring details, Maggie could tell he had been running all out, skidding. She shook her head, tucking her hands beneath her thighs to warm them.
    â€œWhat was he so scared of?” Maggie wondered aloud.
    She guided Rusty across the clearing and uphill again, following Hadyn’s tracks. He had still been running, that much was easy to see. With almost every step he had slid backward a few inches, sometimes leaving knee and glove prints in the snow as he lost his footing.
    Hadyn’s tracks kept changing direction, sometimes plowing through deep drifts, sometimes angling off and running in long curves. The tracks finally swerved and headed straight uphill. At the top, Maggie let Rusty stop.
    Blinking into the wind that scraped over the crestof the hill, Maggie saw an expanse of broken rock. Some of the boulders were huge. Many were deeply fissured, with wedge-shaped cracks disappearing beneath the snow.
    Slowly, Maggie rode around the edge of the field of rock, her eyes on the ground. She hunched her shoulders against the wind. It was getting colder. She tried to remember whether Hadyn had dressed warmly before he left. Even if he had, he must have spent a miserable night.
    Finally, on the far side, she saw Hadyn’s