MISSING

By CoryLynne

Chapter 1

The weather was warm for the end of April and the man and his dun horse had been enjoying their journey north, but after three warm days on the trail it suddenly turned cold. As he reached into his saddle bag, the man was thankful that he had packed the wool lined vest that he had received for Christmas, exchanging his light weight vest for the warmer one. He also had his heavy wool lined coat if he needed it, so all in all he wasn't suffering too badly. Towards evening he found a nice wooded area to camp in, with plenty of fuel to keep a fire going all night.

During the night it clouded up and by morning it was looking very stormy. They had only traveled about fifteen miles when it began getting colder and looked like it was going to snow, so he kept his eyes open for a camp spot. The snow storm started about the same time that he found a small rock overhang which would provide a little protection for him and his horse. There wasn't much wood to be found … enough to cook supper with, but not enough to keep them warm throughout the night.

Neither man nor beast rested much and they were both anxious to move on. If the camp had been more protected and wood more available they would have sat out the storm, but that wasn't the case. There was better than a foot of snow on the ground by the time they broke camp and when they hit the trail they were riding in a snow storm.

It was snowing hard, the snow getting deeper and deeper every minute and there was no shelter in sight. It was getting late in the afternoon when he finally spotted a thicket of trees, turning his horse in that direction, they rode deep into the forest. He found a number of fallen trees, some that had caught on the branches of standing trees, forming a roof of sorts and an open area beneath the trunks and boughs. He dismounted and led his horse under the trees where they immediately felt relief from the snow and wind. He broke off some of the hanging limbs and after clearing an area for a fire he went in search of fuel, finding a dead tree with an abundance of small, pitch filled limbs, he soon had a fire going. He spent the next hour pulling more wood into his camp, finally having enough to last through a couple of days. It was still snowing heavily, with the snow building up on the limbs and boughs above him, which formed a roof over them, and the logs and limbs he stacked on the windward side of the shelter provided a barrier from the wind. They were comfortable, with lots of wood and adequate supplies for him and his horse to last for two or three days.

The snow finally stopped during the second night, but man and horse would wait another day to let it settle some. He had kept busy by cleaning his six-gun and rifle, soaping his saddle, and brushing the dun horse to a sheen. The morning dawned bright and sunny and after a quick breakfast, they broke camp and were back on the trail.

With up to three feet of snow in some areas and after being on the trail for a few hours his horse was beginning to struggle, nearly having to lunge through the snow in places in order to make any forward progress.

The rider pulled him to a stop and dismounted, stroking his muzzle and talking to him soothingly as the horse stood trembling and breathing hard. "I'm sorry boy, I'm looking for a good place for us to stop for the night, but I'm not familiar with this part of the country and I haven't seen any good camp areas, so we'll just have to keep going until we find some place that looks good." The horse nuzzled him as much to say he understood. As much as he liked his bay horse that he normally rode, the man was really beginning to like this sturdy little dun, given to him as a Christmas present by one of his best friends. He hoped that he could find shelter for both of them soon.

After giving the horse time to catch his breath and rest a little the rider gave him another pat then began walking, leading his horse as he struggled to break their way through the snow. They were nearly across an open hillside when suddenly they heard a roar coming from up on the mountain … with a frightened whinny from the horse and a shocked and horrified exclamation from his rider, they struggled through the snow, hurrying as fast as they could, trying to make it to the safety of the trees. But it was not to be, just ten yards from their destination they were hit with a wall of debris laden snow. The rider tried to keep hold of the reins, but he was hit hard by a broken tree limb as it tumbled down the mountain with the snow and other debris. The blow knocked his body towards the edge of the snow-slide, pushing him out of sight under the snow.

The horse was lunging and kicking, trying to keep his feet under him to stay on top of the rushing snow, he was almost to the safety at the edge of the snow-slide when a large tree in the debris knocked him off his feet. He kept struggling ...

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A four room log home was tucked up against a hill at the edge of a south facing valley, overlooking a small creek and meadows. Not far away was a pole barn large enough for a number of horses and the milk cow, with a large loft in which to store the hay that was harvested from the big meadows every summer. A chicken coop was built along one inside wall, protecting it from the weather, with a small door leading to the outside, providing access for the chickens to forage in the open barnyard when the weather permitted.

A large corral was located next to the barn, with water piped from the creek into a large wooden trough to provide water for the stock. A lean-to, attached to the barn served as the blacksmith shop, replete with forge, anvil and all the necessary tools to shoe horses and repair equipment.

Two years earlier Jason and Jenny Blake had settled on this property, which was located about fifteen miles southwest of Hartville (1). They ran a few head of cattle, but mainly made their living raising, training and selling horses, as well as selling vegetables from their large summer garden.

Jenny was cooking bacon when her husband came in from the barn. He handed her four eggs, "This is all I could find, it's so cold the chickens aren't even laying. We're getting a little low on chicken feed and I need to pick up the garden seed that Harvey ordered and I'm sure you need some staples, so hopefully, if the snow settles I'll be able to take a trip into town later this week."

He knew that their meat locker was getting low, but the unexpected snow storm had hit before he could do any hunting. There was enough venison for two or three more meals, but he would have to get some meat soon or he would have to butcher one of the steers.

Jason sat down at the table with a cup of coffee and explained, "I will go out after breakfast and see if I can track down an elk or deer. They should be moving a little today now that it's stopped snowing and I heard what I think was a snow-slide last evening, so if I can't find any live animals, maybe I can find one that was caught in the slide."

Jenny dished up their plates and placed them on the table, she refilled their coffee cups then joined him, replying, "If you can find a deer or elk, we will be in good shape. We are doing all right on vegetables, as well as rice and beans, we do need flour, salt and sugar, but what we have will last until we can get to town. Just be careful, the snow could still be unstable."

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The dun horse lost his gallant battle with the snow-slide and was swept away down the mountain and into the ravine below, where his body was soon covered with hard packed snow, rocks and trees, erasing the identity of his rider.

The man fared little better. His battered body was tossed to the ground on the down slope side of a large rock that acted as a small barrier to the snow, trees, rocks and other debris that were cascading down the mountain slope at an alarming rate of speed. But the large rock didn't prevent the man from being slammed head first into a smaller pile of rocks, nor did it stop the snow from burying most of his body, but at least he was out of danger of being swept down the mountainside to join with his horse.

He had automatically covered his face and head with his arms as he was being pummeled end over end and when he came to a stop below the rock they were still covering his face, but neither the snow, nor his arms could stop the pulsating flow of blood from a deep laceration to the side of his head. Only the cold and the slowing of his heartbeat was doing that and as darkness arrived the blood flow was down to a slow seepage.

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Jason had been hunting all day with only another hour of daylight left and he had seen no deer or elk. He was heading home, walking alongside the path of the snow-slide, looking for animals killed in the slide when he saw a cougar stalking something. Knowing that he probably saw a meal, he fired a shot, scaring him away and hoping that what the cat was hunting was a nice fat elk that had gotten caught in the slide. But nothing moved and when he finally got to the spot where the cougar had been standing all he saw was a pile of snow. Walking closer he kicked at the snow, knowing the cougar had to be after something, but what he found was a total shock.

What his snowshoe contacted was not the carcass of a deer or elk, it was a man's leg. Falling to his knees Jason began to use his hands to uncover the man who was buried in nearly two feet of snow. Dragging the snow away from his body, he worked his way up to the man's head. What he found there nearly made him wretch. The man's scalp was peeled to the bone on the side of his head, the blood matted skin and black hair lying over his ear.

Jason sat back on his heels, shocked at the sight in front of him. Finally, taking a deep breath, he examined the man further. He fully expected him to be dead, but to his great surprise there were slow, shallow breaths moving his chest in and out, as well as an occasional drip of thick blood from his head. His arms had covered his face and mouth had effectively kept him from suffocating in the snow. Jason carefully laid the scalp back over his head and wrapped it with his bandana while he thought about how he was going to move the man.

He was only about a half mile from the cabin, but it was all uphill through nearly three feet of snow. The man was stiff from the cold and was going to be difficult to handle and Jason was on snowshoes, not the easiest to navigate even without a cumbersome burden. He was not quite as large as the injured man, so he was going to have to work hard in order to get him to shelter and medical care. If the man spent one more night out here, he would surely die … he might die anyway, but it wouldn't be because Jason wasn't going to try and help him.

Jason might be smaller, but he was strong. Even then, it took every ounce of muscle he had to lift the stiff bodied man over his shoulder. Now if he could just make it to the cabin without falling. It was slow going, but by leaning against rocks and trees to rest he finally made it. It was dark as he unlatched the cabin door and stepped into the room, collapsing to the floor with the man's body laying over his.

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Jenny gasped as the door flew open and the men crashed to the floor. As she tried to regain her composure, she skirted the bodies and closed the door. Bending down, she picked up the fallen rifle and held it on the men, because in the darkness she was not sure who they were. She continued to watch them closely and as one of the men began to move she stepped back far enough that she was out of reach.

She heard a muffled voice call, "Jenny? Jenny, can you get this man off of me, I can't move?"

Realizing it was Jason, she set the rifle by the door and went to the men. She grabbed the unconscious man's coat and pulled until she finally slid him off of Jason's back enough that he could roll over and sit up.

"Jason, what happened … who is this man?" Jenny went to her husband and as she helped him stand she saw the blood on his coat. "Jason, you're hurt! Take your coat off and let me look at you."

He caught her helping hands in his and explained, "I'm all right, the blood is his," pointing to the man on the floor. "He's been hurt bad and needs immediate care. Help me get him onto the couch."

It took both of them to drag the man across the floor and every bit of strength to lift him onto the couch. Jason lifted him into a sitting position while Jenny struggled to remove his coat and vest, then stripped him of his shirt. As Jason worked to remove his boots and the rest of his clothing Jenny rushed to their bedroom and grabbed extra blankets and the heavy quilt.

"The first thing we have to do is to get his body temperature up, he is nearly frozen. It may have saved him from bleeding to death, but he will die if we don't warm his body." Using one of the blankets she vigorously rubbed his body from head to toe, trying to get his blood circulating, finally covering him with a number of warm blankets.

While Jason kept a close eye on the man, Jenny began heating pots of water. She had caught a glimpse of the head injury and knew it would take a lot of washing and scrubbing to remove all of the blood and small debris that had lodged under the skin and in his hair. She was suddenly very thankful that she had learned some basic medicine while working in a doctor's office before moving west with Jason. She was going to need every bit of the little she had learned.

While the water was heating Jenny gathered up everything she would need to clean the man's head wound. When everything was ready she had Jason help her turn the man onto his side then gingerly took the bandana from around his head. She tried not to react to the sight as she began to clean the dried blood from his hair and head, then she carefully shaved the hair around the wound.

Pulling the skin away from the skull, she began rinsing the dirt, blood and debris from his head and from under the lacerated skin. Jenny closely examined the man's head, it wasn't caved in, but she was afraid it may be fractured, although there was no bleeding from the ears or nose.

The wound was bleeding freely again, helping to push the last bits of loose hair and debris from under the skin. She now felt that she could stitch the wound closed without danger of infection settling in. After Jenny finished closing the wound she collapsed onto a chair and as she watched the man's slow breathing she prayed that he would survive.

Darkness had turned to daylight by the time Jenny had finished tending to the man. Jason handed his wife a steaming cup of coffee, "Sweetheart, he looks pretty bad, do you think he'll make it?"

After taking a swallow of the potent brew she shook her head and answered, "I really don't know. He looks like he's a healthy man other than his injuries, therefore he should be able to fight to get well, but a lot of it will depend on his internal drive. If he doesn't want to live, then there is nothing I can do to make it happen."

"Why do you say that? Is there something that you think will keep him from wanting to survive?"

Shrugging her shoulders she explained, "He has a very severe head injury and we won't know until he regains consciousness if there is any brain damage. He could be blind, deaf or even paralyzed. We won't know what other injuries he may have until he wakes up, if he wakes up. In all honesty, he needs a doctor to examine him."

"Doc is supposed to be here tomorrow evening, if he can get through the snow, do you think he will survive until then?"

Jason stood looking down at their patient, wondering if he would survive even another hour, because he looked more dead than alive at this time.

Jenny looked closely at her husband, then glanced back at the unconscious man on the couch. "I really don't know."