"My horse."
I looked toward the mare.
"She's alive."
The young woman closed her eyes.
"Please don't leave her."
I studied the broken sleigh.
Then the slope.
Then the worsening snow.
Getting her to my cabin would be difficult.
I couldn't lift her.
No man alive could safely carry someone of her size through that ravine, and pretending otherwise would've risked both our lives.
But I'd spent decades moving cattle, heavy supplies, and disabled wagons through rough country.
Weight didn't frighten me.
The wrong method frightened me.
I looked toward the ruined runners.
Then toward my cabin beyond the trees.
"What's your name, miss?"
Her lips trembled.
"Josephine."
I nodded.
"Well, Josephine, I'm Hiram."
She tried to speak.
I leaned closer.
"What was that?"
Her eyes met mine.
"Are you going to leave me here?"
The question struck me harder than it should have.
I looked toward the storm.
Then back at the frightened young woman.
"No, ma'am."
I pulled the canvas around her shoulders.
"Not while I'm still breathing."
I ran back to the cabin and brought Copper, a heavy freight sled, ropes, blankets, and the block-and-tackle rig I used for hauling timber.
The trip took longer than I liked.
By the time I returned, the wind had strengthened, and fresh snow was beginning to cover the broken sleigh.
Josephine was still conscious.
Barely.
I examined the safest way to move her.
The damaged compartment remained mostly intact, but the broken runners couldn't support a journey. The strongest option was to brace the compartment, secure it to the freight sled, and let Copper provide the pulling force while I guided the load over a carefully cleared path.
I explained what I intended to do.
Josephine listened through chattering teeth.
Then whispered, "That sounds like a lot of trouble."
I tightened a rope.
"You're not the first stubborn load I've hauled through these mountains."
She tried to laugh.
The sound became a cough.
I looked toward her.
"Sorry."
She shook her head weakly.
"I was going to say something rude, but I'm too cold."
"Save it for supper."
That earned another faint smile.
I worked as quickly as I dared.
The rig wasn't elegant.
But the timber supports held.
Copper leaned into the harness, his broad shoulders straining as the sled began moving across the snow.
I walked beside Josephine, checking the ropes and speaking to her whenever her eyes began closing.
"Tell me something about yourself."