Free A Grand Teton Sleigh Ride: Four Generations of Wyoming Ranchers Celebrate Love at Christmas by Elizabeth Goddard and Lynette Sowell

forever, it feels like.” Another wallop came from the little life inside her. Or, not so little anymore.
    “I’ll bring the sleigh around. Can’t keep a pregnant lady waiting long, can we, Mrs. Covington?” Zeb winked at her before stepping outside.
    She laughed and let the effect of Zeb’s wink wash over her.
    Oh yes, she loved being Mrs. Zebulon Covington. She loved it even more when he’d bought out Abel Quinn who was desperate for money, and Zeb titled the claim over to Belle in the springtime. She loved it especially when Zeb held her in his arms and all propriety flew from the room. She loved it when she heard his warm, rich voice as they took turns reading to each other on a cold winter’s night.
    The sound of sleigh bells peppered the air, and she went to the window, new paned glass they’d installed. There stood the team, Zeb’s pride and joy, waiting for them. Zeb hopped down from the sleigh and trotted to the house.
    Just as he opened the front door, Belle’s water broke.
    “Oh, Zeb, it’s time.”
    “Time?”
    “Get Mary Smythe.” At that, a contraction ripped through her.
    “I’m not leaving you here alone.” With that he swooped her up into his arms and carried her to the sleigh.
    A change of plans, in his arms. Where she always wanted to be.
    She knew great pain would come, but as long as Zebulon was beside her, she could face it.
    As he gently placed her on the sleigh’s seat, she grabbed his coat sleeve, making him pause.
    “Zebulon Covington, I love you.”
    “I love you, too, Mrs. Covington.”
    He gave her a swift kiss before they sped off to welcome their baby into the world.

A MIRAGE ON SNOW
    by Lynette Sowell

Chapter 1
    Jackson’s Hole, Wyoming, November 1919
    T he whistling wind bit into Emily Covington’s cheeks; she squinted against the snow pelting her face at the same time. Her muffler had crept away from her nose and chin, but the urgency of her mission didn’t allow her the luxury of stopping.
    Mother would be horrified when she saw Emily’s chapped skin.
    The thought almost made her smile, but childish notions wouldn’t help her right now. Focus. She had to keep focused on the trail as she and the others raced back to Jackson.
    The fool they’d all headed out to rescue claimed to have been going for a simple hike in the foothills. Simple and hike didn’t go together in the Teton Range, which towered above them in the gathering dark.
    Her six sled dogs surged ahead, pulling, as their momentum carried her and the sled closer to the ranch. They knew a hot meal awaited them, along with a towel-dry, and pats and kisses from Emily. They’d earned any of the scraps she managed to procure tonight.
    Because of them, Billy Adams would live.
    Somewhere nearby on the trail, he lay wrapped in a blanket on a flatbed sleigh, a contraption made by Sven Olsen and used for pulling everything from hay to firewood, and now, frostbitten humans who’d been stupid enough to go for a hike.
    She’d lived here in Jackson her entire life and couldn’t imagine calling anywhere else home.
    Billy Adams had left when he was about nine years old, his mother exchanging the shadow of the mountains for the security of the city and family. His sudden absence at their schoolhouse left an empty desk. She’d missed her onetime schoolmate. But the lawyer who’d hung his shingle in Jackson before October’s first dusting of snow wasn’t the young boy she once knew.
    Faint lamplight glowed here and there in the valley as the team drew her closer. When she was but a little girl, the homes were much farther apart and more sparse.
    “A man’s losing his breathing room,“
her Pa liked to say. The Covington spread, over six hundred acres now, seemed like the entire world to her, and she didn’t understand what he meant by the saying.
    Now she knew, as she saw the town growing. Once Jackson got electricity, Pa would likely lose what breathing room he had, save for the acreage. More people all the