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"Thank you for filling my bucket," Emma finally broke the stillness.

Josiah grunted.

The mountain man returned to his work while Emma trundled back to the cabin with her water. Casting a backward glance over his shoulder, Josiah grinned. That was some woman he had married.

After the horses were fed and watered, Josiah took up his Hawken and decided to go hunting. Now that the streams were frozen, beaver trapping would have to wait until spring thaw.

"Emma," Josiah announced as he tramped into the cabin with snow on his moccasins, "how about going hunting with me?"

"Me?" she asked in surprised.

"Bring yer shotgun," he directed, not waiting for her to accept his invitation. "Put on my capote and them snowshoes I traded for from the Crows."

Emma had intended to spend a little of the morning reading her Bible and giving herself to prayer, but Josiah was waiting, and she didn't want to make him unhappy. Readying her pa's shotgun, Emma hurried into Josiah's oversized capote.

The snow let up as they left the cabin, causing Emma to hope the sun might come out from hiding. The reprieve was a brief one, however, and before long the skies were sprinkled with white once more. Panting in the frigid air, Emma tried her best to keep up with Josiah's quick strides as they hiked over the deep drifts in their snowshoes.

The mountain sloped downward beneath Emma as she followed Josiah to the valley below. A mixture of excitement and dread pulsed through Emma. She wasn't sure she could keep up with Josiah, and yet, she was excited that he was willing to take her hunting with him.

Suddenly, Emma bumped into Josiah's backside when he unexpectedly stopped. Before she could understand what was happening, Josiah roughly knocked her to the ground, clamping a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.

"Hush!" He breathed so quietly Emma could barely hear him. Josiah's eyes were fixed straight ahead, his free hand tightly gripping his Hawken in readiness.

Emma was paralyzed, but not out of fear. Josiah was pinning her to the ground with the full weight of his body, and she could barely move.

"Blackfoot," Josiah answered the alarmed eyes peering at him from beneath the hood of his capote. "Keep silent." Emma's head nodded in willingness, so Josiah slowly moved his hand from her mouth.

From under Josiah, Emma was unable to see a single thing. She could hear men speaking in a language she couldn't understand, and she could feel Josiah tensing his muscles above her. She shuddered at the look on his face: it was nothing short of hatred. Then, Josiah ducked his head, breathing excitedly into Emma's ear,

"Crows!"

Emma had no chance to ask what he meant, for the sound of gunfire rapidly filled the air. War whoops followed more gunshots, and arrows whistled toward their human targets.

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