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

time got the urge to try their hand at life in the once-wild West.
    The grayness descended along with the snow, and the increased cold helped take the edge off Emily’s aggravation with going to rescue Billy Adams.
    She almost scolded herself for her attitude. Billy was someone’s son, someone’s family. She’d done her share of foolish things without considering the consequences. Thankfully, she hadn’t nearly died or been in as bad a spot as Billy.
    No, her mood wasn’t because they’d had to leave the supper table and go on a rescue.
    The dogs slowed ahead of her. Sven Olsen had reined in his team and glanced over his shoulder at her. She could barely make out the shape of Billy Adams, covered in blankets and lying on the rear of the open flatbed sleigh.
    “Emily!” Sven’s voice rang out against the trees. “Billy wants to talk to you.”
    “Whoa, whoa!” Emily stepped from the runners to slow the sled’s forward motion, and the dogs skidded to a stop. “We really need to get home, Mr. Olsen. The temperature’s dropping every minute.”
    “Please, Miss Covington,” came the voice from the back of the sleigh. “I must apologize.”
    Trying not to sigh, she left her sled and hiked over to Mr. Olsen’s sleigh. “Billy …”
    “It’s Will,” he said. “I don’t go by Billy anymore. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I treated you just now. You were trying to help, and I was being …”
    Emily bit her lip. She thought of several adjectives.
Condescending. Pompous. Hurtful
.
    Relax. He had no idea who she was at first, and in her trousers and long coat, how could he not assume she was a man, although a bit on the short side?
    “Apology accepted, Will. You … you didn’t know. You were delirious with cold, or something. It’s …” She glanced at Mr. Olsen, who sat patiently waiting for them. “It’s getting late, and you need to get indoors as soon as possible.”
    Billy rolled onto his side and reached toward her. He caught hold of the sleeve from her fur overcoat. “Miss Covington, I promise you our next encounter will be more pleasant. I am in your debt, and Mr. Olsen’s, and everyone else who went out to search for me.”
    “Thank you. I … we really should go. It’s almost too dark to see very far down the trail anymore.” The dogs knew the way in the dark, but even she was starting to feel the chill through her coat and layers.
    “Until next time, Miss Covington.”
    “Until next time, Mr. Adams.” She stepped onto her sled’s runners and called out to her team. Mr. Olsen urged his own horse team along, and they continued on their way.
    At last she and her team arrived back at the Covington Ranch, where the stately home stood, welcoming her. But first she headed for the barn along with the dogs. It had taken some begging and convincing for Pa to let the dogs have their own area. But she’d paid for everything herself, their pen and shelters.
    She wondered how long she ought to wait in the barn, caring for the dogs. Perhaps her pa, or maybe Sam, would take Billy back to Jackson. If Mother had her way, and often she did, Billy Adams would likely be thawing out by their fireplace in no time, instead of in his room behind his office, in town.

    Will Adams fought against the drowsiness threatening to overtake him on the Olsens’ makeshift sleigh. He ought to have known better, getting himself into this kind of a pickle. He’d only been a child when he left Jackson, but he still remembered the tales of at least one man who’d gone off on a trek in the foothills and never returned. They hadn’t found his body until spring, frozen solid.
    He’d stood with the others on the muddy main street of Jackson and watched as the rancher who’d found the man toted his body, laid out on the back of a wagon, all the way through town, to his widow’s doorstep. The women’s gasps and the men’s murmurs echoed in his ears, and Emily Covington whispered into his ear.
    “Think we can get a