The Man In The Snow

Synopsis

The mountain pass was buried in snow. Jennifer Bennett was gathering the last batch of plum blossoms in the yard. Seven days. Her father had said he'd be back in three after getting medicine from town. But seven days had passed—no father, no medicine. Then she saw a figure stumbling up the path, not riding, but leading a horse that could barely walk. One man, one horse, sinking deep into the snow with every step, looking like they'd collapse any second. As he got closer, she saw it was a young man. Covered in blood. The blood had frozen, black and red, smeared all over his face and clothes. He leaned on the horse's neck with one hand, clutching his side with the other—blood still seeping between his fingers. He heard her footsteps and looked up. Jennifer froze. Those eyes were strikingly beautiful and piercingly bright. Even so badly wounded, his gaze cut through the snow like a blade. Then his body swayed, and he pitched forward. She reached out to catch him, but they both tumbled into the snow, him on top, her underneath, completely dazed. Jennifer lay there, staring at the swirling snowflakes, and suddenly felt that life was just impossible. Her father was gone, and she'd picked up a dead man.