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area.
    In one hundred years, the Barlows had never lost sight of their past. Even their late father, Rafe, was named after their fiery grandmother, Rafaela.
    Watching Court leave Snake River to join the rodeo circuit had been difficult for all of them. To see him return with a synthetic rope, like some kind of… Texas cowboy …and no more mature now at twenty-six than he’d been when he’d left at twenty, well…
    “If he could see you now,” Walker said in a near-whisper.
    Seth watched Court’s eyes widen. “Okay!” Sawyer said, cutting through the tension. He grabbed Court’s arm and pulled him toward his tent. “It’s late. We’re all tired. Hit the sack.”
    Court flung Seth’s arm off, looking like he was going to spit nails or take a run at Walker.
    Seth shoved him, hard, in the direction of the tent. “Not tonight,” he growled in his younger brother’s ear. “ Not tonight. ”
    Court’s nostrils flared, but finally he turned and ducked into his tent.
    Seth didn’t relax until he saw Walker crawl into his own. Austin picked up a battery-powered lantern and was already heading toward his tent. He was right to get as much sleep as he could before his turn at the watch.
    In the dark, a howl erupted, but even Seth, who was not half the mountain man his older brother was, knew it was a mile away, possibly more.
    Austin paused and grunted. “We’ll likely lose a head or two tonight in the dark if we can’t scare them away,” he muttered. “Damn wolves.”
    There was nothing for it, though. It was too dangerous to split up this early in the season, and shooting anything in the dark was likely to hit one of the cows rather than any faster-moving predator. Now that they’d located their cattle, tomorrow they’d round them up and drive them west toward grazing lands. There was no grass yet on this snow-covered ground, but it would be easier to drag in hay. It’d be safer there, too, closer to the homestead, farther away from the wilds.
    To maintain the uneasy truce, Seth kept the watch all night, with the others trading off in the wee hours. Despite the near-constant howling, Seth wasn’t worried as much about bears or wolves as he was his own family tearing into each other. Most of the herd had made it through the winter. The Barlows, it seemed, were still left in the cold.

Chapter Four
    ‡
    R owan was grateful that the drive to the Archer farm was quick, at least compared to the trek across the entire bottom of the state of Wyoming she’d made the night before. Within twenty minutes of leaving the city limits, Rowan was winding her way up the long driveway toward home. The two-story house could use a new paint job. Its white boards were cracked and peeling in some places, but it was still the most comforting sight in the world to Rowan.
    She pulled up in front of the house, driving past the low-slung barn where the sheep were housed during the worst months of the year. As she got out of the car, she could already hear the dogs in their chain-link run, clamoring for her attention.
    Willow had fallen asleep in the car, so Rowan left her in the heated interior while she let the dogs out. Kinka, Jory, and Kono were barking furiously at her as she approached them. They were large, all three of them Great Pyrenees, with long white hair rivaling the sheep they looked after. The breed made excellent livestock guards, protecting the flock from wolves, coyotes, and any other predators that came down from the mountains looking for a quick meal. They were friendly, though, toward humans, at least, and Rowan always smiled when she saw them. Kinka was the pack leader, the oldest and the largest. He jumped up to greet her, paws on her shoulders.
    Rowan grabbed frantically for the chain-link gate, grasping at it with her gloved fingers to hold herself up under the large male’s immense weight. He licked her face enthusiastically, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Nothing to do but grin and bear it. After a few