Several months after Nolan’s meeting with Shapiro the first flurries of snow fell, dusting the mountains with soft, white powder. From a distance an observer might think it romantic, wistful almost, the sort of view to turn one’s mind to ideas of long winter evenings nestled in front of burning log fires, holding one’s beloved close. Cole knew it was none of these things. Nature was turning, transforming the land from baked hard to one riddled with deep ruts hidden under the snow where untold perils could throw a horse, twist its ankle. After that, the chances of finding oneself exposed and alone, to suffer and freeze to death multiplied. Winter was the time Cole feared most. Its uncertainties, its unforgiving nature. Blazing sun he could cope with, prepare himself for, have enough water t
