Christmas at Saddle Creek. Shelley Peterson

I’m a horse.

      You said you’re smarter than me.

      I was joking.

      Should we wait for an ambulance to come?

      How long?

      I don’t know. It might be several hours.

      Then cut these ropes and let me go. I know the way.

      Bird hated putting Mrs. Pierson through the rough ride, but an ambulance would be bumpy, too, and Mrs. Pierson couldn’t wait much longer to get help. She was finished second-guessing. Let’s go home the way we came, Sunny.

      There’s no other way.

      Keep an eye out for Cody.

      I’ve been looking for him all night.

      Bird and Sundancer crossed the ice-covered road very carefully. To keep from slipping, Sunny needed to walk over the leaves and sticks, but even the slightest variance on the surface caused Laura Pierson to whimper.

      Bird solved the problem by pulling the sled over the icy part of the road herself. She stepped between the horse and the sled, took the ropes in her hands, and moved over to the right. Sunny and Bird walked parallel to each other, allowing the sled to travel over the ice, and Sunny on the path of debris. It was much better, but far from perfect.

      Their tension dissipated slightly once they reached the other side of the road and were on to firmer footing.

      The moon was lighting up their way, the wind had abated, and the temperature was moderating. Bird counted their blessings. Still, pulling the sled with an elderly, injured person on board made the journey ­difficult and stressful, and within half an hour they both needed to stop.

      Laura Pierson had stopped making noises fifteen minutes earlier. Bird checked to be sure she was alive, and she was happy to hear a feeble cough. She brought the thermos to her lips and tried to get her to drink. Mrs. Pierson took only a sip.

      The big chestnut gelding stood with his head down. He was breathing heavily. Bird patted his neck. You’re doing great. We’ll be home soon and can get some rest.

      I’ve ceased caring. I’ll die out here.

      Sunny! Don’t make jokes like that.

      I’m not joking.

      Suddenly, the horse lifted his head. His upper lip flipped up, over his nostrils.

      What is it? asked Bird.

      It’s Cody.

      Where?

      Very close.

      But where? Why can you hear him and not me?

      I smell him. The wind keeps changing, but he’s somewhere over there. Sundancer motioned slightly to the left and ahead of them with his nose.

      In the woods, off the path?

      Yes.

      You stay here with the sled, and I’ll go look.

      Bird took the flashlight from the toboggan and headed off in the direction Sunny had indicated. She shone the light under each bush and behind every rock. Cody? she transmitted. Cody? Where are you? Please, please stay alive until I find you!

      Tears rolled down her face as she searched. She didn’t want to give up, but Mrs. Pierson needed help. Bird made the decision to circle back to the sled. She hoped the coyote would turn up by the time she got back.

      He hadn’t.

      Sunny, I can’t find him. Can you still smell him?

      Yes. He’s close by. Try over there. The big gelding looked ahead and to his right this time.

      Okay.

      Bird shone the light on the right side of the path and kept walking. Sunny was moving along with her, in the direction of home. Cody! Cody, where are you?

      Nothing came back to her. No sound at all, either by vocal cords or telepathic transmission. She closed her eyes and imagined the small coyote. A sudden ­emotional tug caused her to move a bit farther into the brush. She opened her eyes.

      There. Pinned under a fallen branch. Was that a large lump of dirt or a mossy rock? It was the same size as the small coyote and coated with sleet.

      Bird edged closer, ducking under cedars and shrubs, until she crouched beside it. She shone the light right at it. It was furry. It was an animal, for sure. And it looked dead.

      Slowly she reached out a gloved hand and brushed the ice off the creature.

      It reacted. Bird jumped back. It was alive, but what was it?

      Very faintly, she got a transmission. Bird girl.

      Cody! It’s you!

      Goodbye, Bird girl.

      No! It’s not time!

      The other world is calling. I’m going to the western sky.

      No, Cody, I’m taking you home with me.

      With a great effort, Bird pushed the broken bough aside. She scooped him up as gently as she could. Don’t be upset with me, Cody. I can’t leave you here.

      She protected him from the stinging branches with their hanging loads of ice and snow. She carried him close to her chest, intermittently walking backward and sideways and on her knees until they were back onto the path.

      Sunny was there, waiting for them.

      Cody’s alive but barely. He was hit with a falling branch.

      Bird lifted the blankets from Mrs. Pierson’s legs and placed the coyote beside her.