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but not before I saw the long, emaciated body covered with gray fur, the glowing greenish eyes, the lolling tongue. It had been following us all this time, perhaps since early morning, keeping just out of sight, patient, waiting.

Too frightened to think coherently, I clicked the reins frantically, and the horse picked up even more speed and the wide wooden runners spewed crusty showers of snow on either side of the sleigh, and the sleigh rocked and skidded and the wolf kept up, in plain sight now, leaping, loping, edging closer to the road. Although wearing blinders and thankfully unable to see the wolf, the horse sensed

my panic and galloped even faster and I saw that I was going to lose control and turn us over if I didn't slow down.

What to do? What to do? In my panic, strange as it may seem, it didn't occur to me to wake Jeremy. We sped down

the icy road, thick woods on either side, and my arms felt like they were being pulled out of their sockets and I felt a stabbing pain in my back and knew I couldn't keep up this speed a minute longer. My foot touched the butt of one of the rifles. I knew then what I had to do, it was the only solution.

I pulled gently on the reins, slowing the parse down, and from somewhere deep inside I miraculously found some semblance of calm that formed a barrier against the shrieking panic still alive inside.

I slowed the horse down more, even more, and the wolf slowed down, too, moving along at a lazy gait, head turned

toward the road, watching with dark greenish eyes, curious,

cautious yet utterly brazen. Now, I told myself. I let go of the reins and the horse continued to trot slowly down the road. I reached down to grab the rifle, knocking Jeremy's

head out of my lap. The wolf growled, the long body tensing, preparing to leap. Jeremy tumbled to the floor of the sleigh, waking with a start as I swung the rifle into position

and saw the wolf leaping, saw it sailing toward me like a gigantic gray arrow.

I pulled the trigger. The impact of the blast knocked me back against the seat, the butt of the rifle kicking painfully against my shoulder. The explosion was deafening, and through the thick puff of smoke I saw the wolf hang suspended in mid air for a second, saw its chest splattering

red and slimy pink as the force sent it hurtling backward, crashing to the ground at the edge of the road.

The horse reared, coming to an abrupt halt, and the sleigh skidded violently. I dropped the rifle, trembling all over. Jeremy climbed up off the floor of the sleigh, his face chalky white, his blue eyes full of shock and, it seemed, twice their normal size.

"Jesus Christl" he yelled.

"I shot it," I said.

"What the hell is going onl"

I pointed. He was standing in the sleigh now, and he turned and looked at the shattered gray heap at the side of the road and saw the crimson pools on the snow and sat down abruptly. Beads of perspiration began to break out on his brow. After a moment he reached down and picked up a canteen, looked at it, put it down, picked up another.

Unfastening the top, he took a great gulp, tossing his head back, and then he wiped his mouth and handed the canteen

to me.

"Here, you'd better have a swallow."

I gave him a grateful nod and raised the canteen to my lips. I expected water, of course, and as the raw vodka burned the insides of my mouth and scalded my vocal cords

and set my chest afire I coughed and spluttered, eyes smarting with tears. Jeremy took the canteen from me and screwed the top on and set it down while I continued to burn and blink the watery tears from my eyes.

"Why-in-hell-didn't you-wake me up!" He enunciated the first five words slowly, carefully, ending in a roar.

I couldn't speak. My vocal cords were still on fire. I waved my hand in front of my open mouth, as though to cool the fire, and Jeremy glared at me with blazing blue eyes that were positively murderous. The sleigh shook as the horse pranced skittishly in place.

"You-you're scaring the horse," I whispered hoarsely.

"I could strangle you, Marietta! Of all the goddamn foolish, idiotic, imbecilic-letting me sleep when-"

He couldn't go on. His voice started to tremble and he cut himself off and wiped the perspiration from his brow and sat there with a face still several shades whiter than normal. I opened a canteen of water-making bloody certain

it was water-and took a long swallow and sighed with relief as the burning ceased. Jeremy still looked like a man in shock.

"I -I didn't think about it," I said.

"You-didn't-think-about-it."

He was being very, very patient, and I was beginning to grow just a bit weary of it.

"You were asleep. and I saw the wolf, only at first I wasn't sure it was a wolf and I didn't see any sense waking

you up and then when I saw it again I was so frightened I forgot all about you and drove faster and faster. The wolf kept up with the sleigh and moved closer to the road and I knew it was going to attack and then I placed my foot on the rifle and remembered we had the rifles so I just slowed down and shot it."

"You just shot it," he said.

"I'm an excellent shot. You know that."

"What if you'd missed?"

"I didn't, did I?"

"Goddamn, Marietta-"

"Listen, you son of a bitch, I happen to love you with all my heart and soul, but there are times when I'd gladly slap you silly-particularly when you assume that patient, superior

air. I am not, nor have I ever been, a weak, defenseless female who turns into jelly at the first sign of danger, and you had better be damned glad I'm not!"

"I am. I am!"

"Do you feel less a man because I shot the wolf?"

"I'm glad you shot the goddamn wolf!"

"All right, then."

"A II rightf"

"We're both a little upset," I said.

"Life would have been so much simplier if I'd married Janette Henderson when I was twenty-six years old. She was rich and she was reasonably attractive and her father wanted to take me into the business-he was a coal king in Newcastle, a whole fleet of barges-but no, I wanted adventure,

I wanted to live, and, by God, I did. "

"You never told me about Janette Henderson."

"So I lived, carefree, independent, one adventure right after the other, and then I had the poor judgment to go to the Colonies and the wretched luck to wind up in New Orleans

and just happened to be passing through the old market and you just happened to be there at the same time and I saw you and that was it and I haven't had a single moment's

peace since."

"I didn't ask you to fall in love with me. If memory serves, I did everything in my power to discourage you."

"If only you'd been able to," he said grumpily.

"You don't mean that, Jeremy."

"I've aged ten years since that day in New Orleans."

"It doesn't show," I told him. "If anything, you're even better looking. I love you in that black sheepskin coat and hat. You look wonderfully rugged and virile. That red scarf adds a nice touch, too."

"Don't humor me. I'm still upset."

"I know, darling, but it looks like it's going to start snowing any minute now and I think we'd better be onwhat-what's that noise?"

"What noise?"

"Behind us. It sounds like-"

Jeremy raised up and turned around and looked behind us and then he told me to hand him one of the rifles. His voice was very, very calm, frighteningly calm, and I turned around too and saw the four enormous wolves slinking toward us on the road behind, not fifty yards away. They moved stealthily, bodies low to the ground, their huge paws thumping softly on the hard-packed snow.

That thumping was the noise I had heard.

"They-they often travel in packs," I said in a tight voice. "The wolf I shot was prob-probably the leader."

"Hand me the rifle, Marietta. Then pick up the reins and go. Not too fast."

I gave him the rifle and placed the other two on the seat beside him, and Jeremy got up on his knees, leaning against the seat for support, resting one elbow on the back of the sleigh as he took careful aim. I picked up the reins and clicked them and we began to move, and although my heart was beating rapidly a hard tight core of calm inside kept me steady. The panic was there, too, a live thing inside,

shrill and shrieking, but it was contained. Jeremy was depending on me and both our lives depended on our staying calm. I was not going to let him down.

I held the reins firmly, jiggling them, encouraging the horse to move at a steady trot. Not too fast. Not too fast.

He

had to be able to fire properly and he couldn't afford to miss. I turned my head and looked back and saw that the wolves were no longer ambling behind, they were running now, pursuing us with swift, loose-limbed gaits. One was ahead of the others, gaining on us by the second, eyes glittering

bright as it bared sharp fangs and began snarling.

Jeremy fired. The lead wolf turned a somersault, spinning in air, scarlet spraying the snow, then hit the ground with a heavy thump.

I turned my attention back to the horse as Jeremy threw the rifle down and grabbed another, positioning himself carefully. Moments passed, and he didn't fire. I glanced back to see that the remaining three wolves had paused to examine the bleeding gray corpse. They began to howl hideously

and then deserted the limp body and raced after us again, moving even faster than before in a series of bounding

leaps. The sleigh swayed, rocking, and I devoted all my attention to driving. Bloodcurdling howls split the air behind

us, and the horse began to panic, racing faster and faster despite my efforts to control him. As the second shot

exploded he broke into a mad run, tearing down the road, hoofs pounding, kicking up crusty splinters of snow.

"Slow down!" Jeremy shouted.

"I'm trying!"

"We're going to turn over!"

The ice-encrusted trees seemed to fly past us on either side in a blur of shiny silver-gray and the road was like a huge pale pewter ribbon being ripped out from under us as the sleigh bounced and swayed and skidded wildly. I held the reins tightly, the thin leather curled around my fingers, cutting off circulation, and, half standing, I pulled with a steady motion, afraid to jerk on the reins, afraid the horse would rear. All of my efforts seemed to be futile and the horse sped along down the road and the wooden runners

scraped noisily and sprayed snow,

"Jeremy! I-I can't control him!"

"You must! I can't aim properly at this speed!"

"The wolves-"

"They're still coming!"

"Are they-"

"They're twenty yards behind us!"

I redoubled my efforts, praying fervently, pulling firmly, steadily, fingers numb now, my arms burning with pain, my spinal cord feeling as though it might snap. I stumbled, crashing onto my knees on the floor of the sleigh, and I reared back and somehow managed to regain my seat and

still hold on to the reins. Jeremy held the third rifle, trying to take aim, and the wolves howled, racing behind us. I closed my eyes and pulled even harder, and a spear seemed

to pierce my back and my arms seemed to pull out of their sockets but the pain was unimportant, slowing the horse down was all that mattered.

"Pull, Marietta! Pull!"

"I'm pulling!"

The horse finally responded to the pressure of the bit in its mouth and slowed down and the sleigh stopped swaying

and Jeremy was able to take aim. He pulled the trigger but there was no deafening explosion, only a loud click, for the rifle was the one I had fired earlier and there had been no time to reload it and both of us had forgotten that in the excitement.

I didn't panic but momentarily lost my senses and let go of the reins and grabbed the pistol at my side and thrust it up to Jeremy. He shouted at me and I tried to grab the reins but they sailed in the air and slashed the horse across the neck and he reared and the sleigh skidded

noisily to the left, almost overturning, crashing into the mound of snow at the side of the road.

Jeremy stood up on shaky legs, gripping the pistol, and I

. saw the furious streak of gray lightning sail through the air, almost upon us, and Jeremy fired the pistol and fell out of the sleigh as the wolf slammed against his body.

The

wolf was still alive, howling in pain, thrashing, and Jeremy pulled his knife out and slashed and blood gushed and my hands were shaking violently as I grabbed the powder horn and the bag of shot. The last wolf was crouching low, snarling, preparing to spring, and the horse was neighing and trying desperately to break out of its harness as I seized one of the rifles and fumbled with it, trying to get it loaded.

Jeremy had shoved the dead wolf aside and was on his knees on the ice and gripping the bloody knife in his hand.

The wolf crouched even lower, exposing horrible fangs, slobbering, eyes burning, and then it sprang into the air as I leaped to my feet and swung the loaded rifle around and pulled the trigger all in one motion, hitting the beast right between the eyes. It fell crashing to the ground and landed approximately two feet from where Jeremy was still kneeling. He stared at it and then turned to look at me standing in the sleigh with tendrils of smoke still curling from the barrel of the rifle. The horse had stopped thrashing

about and stood making pathetic whinnying noises.

Jeremy shook his head. His face was white. Mine must have been even whiter.

"Nice work," he said shakily.

"I –I didn't think I was going to get it loaded in time."

He wiped the blade of his knife on the fur of the nearest wolf and climbed to his feet and then retrieved the pistol he had dropped when he tumbled out of the sleigh.

"Are-Jeremy, are you all right?"

"Probably bruised as hell. No injuries."

"I've never been so frightened in-"

"Neither have I, love. I don't mind admitting it."

He thrust the pistol into his waistband and retrieved the hat which he had also lost in the fall. I noticed that his hands shook too as he pulled it back over his head. He sauntered over to stroke the horse and calm it down, murmuring soft, reassuring words into its ear, and I put the rifle